He Shall Thunder in the Sky - Elizabeth Peters [45]
“Holy Jehoshaphat,” he ejaculated. “How did she get up here? Not by way of the stairs, or I’d have seen her coming.”
Seshat gave him a critical look and began washing her face. “She climbs like a lizard and flies through the air like a bird,” I said, laughing. “It is quite uncanny to see her soar from one balcony to another eight feet distant. Our cats have always been clever creatures, but we’ve never had one as agile as this.”
The appearance of Seshat anticipated by less than a minute the arrival of Ramses; either she had seen him coming, from some vantage point atop the house, or the uncanny instincts of a feline had warned her of his approach. Anna was with him.
Katherine’s daughter by her first, unhappy marriage, was now in her early twenties. She was, truth compels me to admit, a rather plain young woman. She did not at all resemble her mother, who was pleasantly rounded where Anna was not, and whose green eyes and gray-streaked dark hair gave her the look of a cynical tabby cat. Anna’s eyes were a faded brown, her cheeks thin and sallow; she scorned the use of cosmetics and preferred severe, tailored garments that did nothing to flatter her figure. She had never appeared interested in a member of the opposite sex, except for one extremely embarrassing period during which she had taken a fancy to Ramses. He had not taken a fancy to her, so it was a relief when she got over it.
It seemed to me that there was a certain coolness in her manner toward him that day. After greeting us she sat down on the settee next to Nefret and began questioning her about the hospital.
“I have decided I want to train for a nurse,” she explained.
“You are welcome to visit anytime,” Nefret said slowly. “But we do not have the facilities for such training. If you are serious—”
“I am. One must do whatever one can, mustn’t one?”
“You could receive better training in England,” Nefret said. “I can give you several references.”
“There must be something I can do here!”
“Some of the ladies have formed committees,” I remarked. “They meet to drink tea and wind bandages.”
“That is better than doing nothing,” Anna declared. She directed a glance at Ramses, who appeared not to notice. Ah, I thought; so that is the trouble. Her brother, to whom she was devoted, was in France. I did hope she was not going to add to Ramses’s collection of feathers. Open contempt would be even more awkward than expressions of unwelcome affection.
We had been able to obtain a box for the opera season that year, since many of the former patrons had left the country—voluntarily, or after they had been expelled as enemy aliens. The performance that night was Aida, one of Emerson’s particular favorites, since the music is very loud and the renditions of Egyptian costume and scenery give him an opportunity to criticize them.
There was not room for all of us in a single vehicle, so Nefret went with us and Ramses accompanied the Vandergelts. I had, much against his will, persuaded Emerson to let Selim drive us that evening. The Reader can have no idea of how I looked forward to NOT being driven by Emerson. He was looking particularly handsome in white tie, which was de rigeur for box holders.
“I do wish Ramses would have the courtesy to tell us of his plans in advance,” I said, taking Emerson’s hat from him so he would not sit on it or let it fly out the window. “I was under the impression he was going with us until he turned up in ordinary evening kit instead of white tie.”
“What difference does it make?” Emerson demanded.
“Where is he going?”
“I did not have the impertinence to inquire, my dear. He is a grown man and is not obliged to give us an account of his activities.”
“Hmph,” I said. “Nefret, I don’t suppose you—”
“No,” said Nefret. “Perhaps I ought to have mentioned earlier that I won’t be coming home with you.”
“Have you and Ramses something planned?”
“As I told you, I have no idea what his plans are, except that they do not include me.”
“Where are you—ouch!