Crocodile on the Sandbank - Elizabeth Peters [100]
Lucas’s eyes narrowed. I saw, as never before, the hot Latin blood of his sire.
“So,” he said softly. “You dare…. You will answer for this, Emerson, I promise you.”
Evelyn stepped between them.
“Lucas—Walter—for shame! I have said what I must do. I will do it. Nothing can change my mind.”
“Evelyn!” Walter turned to her, ignoring the other man. “You cannot do this! You don’t love him—you are sacrificing yourself because of some absurd notion that you are the cause of our troubles—”
“She could not possibly be so stupid.” Emerson’s calm voice broke in. He had not moved during the little scene; sitting at ease, his legs stretched out, he was smoking his pipe and watching like a spectator at a play.
“Sit down, all of you,” he went on, his voice taking on a sharp tone that forced obedience. “Now let us talk like reasonable human beings. If Miss Evelyn decides to become Lady Ellesmere, that is her right; but I cannot allow her to take that step under a misapprehension.”
He turned to Evelyn, who had dropped into a chair, where she sat with one trembling hand over her eyes.
“Young woman, do you really believe that you are the jinx, the Jonah, who brings evil upon us? That is unbecoming a sensible woman.”
“Amelia, today,” said Evelyn in a faint voice. “It was the final warning. Danger to all those I love—”
“Nonsense!” The word burst from Emerson’s lips. “Simple nonsense, my girl. Have you forgotten what we decided, at the beginning of this obscene charade? The only possible motive for it all is the desire of some unknown to force us away from this site. How will your departure accomplish this, if Walter and I remain? While you sail safely down the river toward Cairo, in the arms of your betrothed—”
There was a wordless protest from Walter at this. Emerson gave him a sardonic look before proceeding, in a tone that seemed designed to provoke the young fellow even more.
“As you sail along in soft dalliance under the moon, we may be beleaguered here. No; if your motive truly is to benefit us, your flight cannot accomplish that. If, on the other hand, you yearn to be alone with his lordship—”
It was Lucas’s turn to protest.
“Emerson, how dare you take that tone? You insult a lady—”
“Quite the contrary,” said Emerson, maddeningly cool. “I pay the lady the compliment of assuming that she has a brain and is capable of using it. Well, Evelyn?”
Evelyn sat motionless, her hand still shading her eyes.
I don’t know what had kept me silent so long. Emerson’s motive eluded me; that he had some ulterior purpose, however, I did not doubt. I decided it was time to add my opinion.
“Emerson states the facts with his usual boorishness, yet he is basically correct. We are still in the dark as to the motive for this charade, as he rightly terms it. Precipitate action may be fatal. You may ignorantly do precisely what our unknown adversary wants you to do.”
Lucas turned to look at me, and I knew that if I had not been a woman he would have threatened me as he had Walter. I cared not at all for his opinion. Anxiously I watched Evelyn.
“I don’t know what to do,” she whispered. “I must be alone—let me think. Don’t follow me, please.”
Slowly, her face averted, she passed along the ledge and began to descend.
Lucas started to follow.
“Your lordship!” Emerson’s voice cracked like a whip.
“Don’t interfere with me, Emerson,” Lucas said tightly. “You are not my master.”’
“Interfere?” Emerson’s eyes widened in honest indignation. “I never interfere. You are, of course, too much of a gentlemen to lay hands on the young lady again; I need not caution you as to that. I was merely about to remind