Page 12 of Loving Graystoke's Heir

When the older man looked at her again, his smile was back. “Tell me he has been a boar to you, and I will have him tied to the bumper of his car for you.”

The laugh that burst from her lips was genuine and a release of much of her tension. “Magheli has been nice, but I can see that you’ve known him awhile.”

She heard the awkward shuffle of boots behind her, and Mzamo winked at her.

“Too long.” He stepped back and gestured into the house. “Come. Come inside and sit. We shall see how we can make him even more uncomfortable.”

Tamsin looked over her shoulder as she stepped inside and watched Magheli rub his hand over his face in frustration, mumbling under his breath.

Mzamo drew a chair away from the table and tapped the back with his hand. “Sit, please.”

Tamsin sat in the chair as Mzamo sat down opposite her at the table. Magheli paused behind a chair along the side waiting for permission. And waited.

When Mzamo’s smile twitched at the corner of his mouth, he turned to speak. “Go ahead,” he nodded at the empty chair. “Sit.”

Magheli sat down quickly as if he was afraid if he dallied that their host would change his mind. “Ngiyabonga, Mzamo. Thank you. I know you weren’t expecting me to come.”

“I expected you eventually.” The older man’s tone said that they had a history, but he managed to make it seem like a mild, almost friendly, irritation to see her guide. “I just did not expect you to bring a woman. Have you finally given up on my daughter?”

Tamsin turned to look at Magheli, her head snapping toward him with a silent question in her eyes.

Magheli managed to keep his expression composed. “I think you know me better than that. This is Tamsin Ellery. She’s come to find her friend.”

Magheli’s words were true, but Tamsin felt her cheeks grow hot as if labeling Donal as a friend was a bald-faced lie.

And Mzamo’s eyes widened a little as he looked at her, but all he said in reply was, “A friend. Hmm.”

Reaching into her pocket, Tamsin withdrew a picture of Donal and handed it to the older gentleman. “Donal Graystoke.” Just saying his name twisted her up inside. “He came to Africa a few years ago to take care of his family’s interests and eventually we lost touch with him.”

Mzamo lifted the picture to get a closer look.

She knew what he saw. It was a picture she carried with her all the time. It was the last picture she had taken of Donal before his departure. Standing in the garden of his family home, he was leaning up against the garden wall with tangled vines just a foot away from his shoulder. He looked at ease.

Calm.

It was the way she tried to think of him.

Magheli was the one who broke the silence. “There have been people looking for him, but they don’t seem to be doing much.”

The gentleman nodded. “And so, you come to me.”

Magheli looked at Tamsin when he spoke. “If Donal is anywhere in or near Zulu land, Mzamo can find him. He knows everything that goes on.”

A significant look passed between the two men, and Tamsin tried not to let her imagination delve into the meaning.

“Besides,” Magheli sighed, “it’s not like Donal would blend into the scenery.”

Mzamo spoke up a moment later. “You say things,” he shook his head, “but I do not think you know what you talk about.”

Magheli leaned forward on the table. “I know… I know… I’m not good enough for your daughter.”

The older man set the photo down on the table and gestured at the younger man beside her. “I am grateful that you finally accept that, but again, you do not know.” He turned his gaze toward Tamsin, and she was relieved to see that his eyes were kind and carried something that gave her hope. “And you come looking for this man… as a friend?”

Oh, her stomach twisted into a knot, making her chest ache. Or was that her heart?

“He needs to be found or his uncle is going to try to have him declared dead.”

“If he has come here to disappear,” he shrugged, “then maybe the declaration is something he might welcome.”

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