He Shall Thunder in the Sky - Elizabeth Peters [110]
The gâteau au rhum which Miss Molly was devouring certainly fell into that category. Her enjoyment was so obvious I could not help smiling.
“A little indulgence now and then does not hurt a child,” I said. Miss Molly, talking with her mouth full, did not hear this. Ramses did. He gave me a sidelong look.
As Miss Molly chattered cheerfully on, I began to be a trifle uneasy about the time. Miss Nordstrom had declined a sweet but had accepted coffee. The dining salon was now full, and several acquaintances stopped by to say good evening on their way to or from their tables. One of these was Lord Edward.
The son of Lord Salisbury, he was in birth and lineage the most distinguished of all the young men whom Kitchener had brought into the Egyptian civil service. He had had no training for his position in the Finance Ministry, but by all accounts he had done an excellent job and was high in the confidence of the Government. He also had a certain reputation as the wittiest man in Cairo. Making fun of other people is the easiest way to acquire such a reputation. What he and his set said about us behind our backs I could only imagine. They would never have had the audacity to say it to our faces.
Gravely and deferentially he congratulated Emerson on the discovery of the statue, told me how well I looked, pinched Miss Molly’s cheek, and asked after Nefret. Miss Nordstrom got a condescending nod. Last of all he addressed Ramses.
“I thought you might like to know that Simmons has been reprimanded and cautioned to behave himself in future.”
“It wasn’t entirely his fault,” Ramses said.
“No?” Lord Edward raised his eyebrows. “I will tell him you said so. Good evening.”
“We must say good evening too,” Miss Nordstrom said, after the gentleman had sauntered away. “It is shockingly late.”
Miss Molly looked rebellious. “I haven’t finished my gâteau.”
I said briskly, “You have had quite as much as is good for you. Run along with Miss Nordstrom. Good night to you both.”
“And do give our regards to the Major,” said Emerson.
“She is becoming something of a nuisance,” I remarked, watching the young person being towed away by her governess. “What is the time?”
Ramses took out his watch. “Half past ten.”
Emerson hailed the waiter by waving his serviette like a flag of truce.
“Emerson, please don’t do that.”
“You told me I mustn’t shout at the fellow. What else am I supposed to do to get his attention? Finish your coffee and don’t lecture.”
I took a sip. “I must say the Savoy’s cuisine does not live up to that of Shepheard’s. The coffee has quite a peculiar taste.”
Emerson, occupied with the bill, ignored this complaint, but Ramses said, “Mine was all right. Are you sure you didn’t add salt instead of sugar?”
“I don’t use sugar, as you ought to know.”
“May I?” He took my cup and tasted the coffee. “Not nice at all,” he said, wiping his mouth with his serviette. “Would you like another cup?”
“No time,” said Emerson, who had finished settling the account.
He bustled us out of the hotel and into the motorcar. As we circled the Ezbekieh Gardens and headed north along the Boulevard Clos Bey, Ramses pulled a bundle from under the seat and began removing his outer garments. No wonder he had looked lumpy; he was wearing the traditional loose shirt and drawers under his evening clothes.
While he completed the change of clothing I looked back, watching for signs of pursuit. Nothing except another motorcar or a cycle could have kept up with Emerson, and by the time we reached the Suq el-Khashir I felt certain we had not been followed. Turning to Ramses, I beheld a shadowy form swathed in flapping rags. The smell had already caught my attention. Pinching my nose, I said, “Why are your disguises so repulsive?”
“Nefret asked me that once.” He adjusted a wig that looked like an untrimmed hedge. It appeared to be gray or white, and it smelled as bad as his clothes. “As I told her, filth keeps fastidious persons at a distance. I expect you and she would rather I rode romantically about in white silk robes, with a gold-braided