He Shall Thunder in the Sky - Elizabeth Peters [58]
“By the time this is over, no respectable person in Cairo will be speaking to Ramses,” I said with a heartfelt sigh. “Do not mistake me, David; if nothing worse than that happens I will be heartily grateful. So he was supposed to have gone to you last night before returning to the house?”
David nodded. His arms rested on his raised knees and his lashes, long and thick like those of my son, veiled his eyes. “I doubt he was in condition to think very clearly. He must have headed blindly for home.”
“Yes.” I took out my handkerchief and dabbed at my eyes. “Good gracious, there is a great deal of sand blowing about today. Well, David, it looks as if we must play this same game again tomorrow. The following day is Christmas Eve; Ramses should be on the mend by then, and we can have a quiet few days at home. All of us except you, my dear. Oh, I wish . . .”
“So do I.”
“Don’t kiss me, Ramses never does,” I said, sniffing.
He kissed me anyhow. “Now,” he said, “have you given any thought as to how I am going to put on a show for the general populace this afternoon without Nefret getting a close look at me?”
“It is going to be horribly difficult, but that isn’t the only reason I wish Nefret could be told. David, he won’t see a doctor, and I did the best I could, but I am not qualified to treat injuries like those, and she is, and she would never—”
“Aunt Amelia.” He took my hand. “I knew this was going to come up. In fact, I had meant to raise the subject myself if you didn’t. Ramses told me he was afraid he had failed to convince you that she mustn’t know the truth. There are two excellent reasons why that is impossible. One is a simple matter of arithmetic: the more people who know a secret, the greater the chance that someone will inadvertently let it slip. The other reason is a little more complicated. I don’t know that I can make you understand, but I have to try.
“You see, there’s a bizarre sort of gentleman’s code in this strange business of espionage. It applies only to gentlemen, of course.” His finely cut lips tightened. “The poor devils who take most of the risks aren’t included in the bargain. But the men who run the show keep hands off the families and friends of their counterparts on the other side. They have to, or risk retaliation in kind. If Ramses and I were suspected, they wouldn’t use you to get at us, but if it were known that you, or the Professor, or Nefret, or anyone else, were taking an active part in the business, you’d be fair game. That’s why he didn’t want you to find out, and that is why Nefret mustn’t find out. Good God, Aunt Amelia, you know how she is! Do you suppose she wouldn’t insist on taking a hand if she thought we were in danger?”
“She would, of course,” I murmured.
“I know you’re worried about him,” David said gently. “So am I. And he’s worried about you. He’d never have brought you into it if he’d had a choice, and he’s feeling horribly guilty for endangering you and the Professor. Don’t make it harder for him.”
* * *
I have always said that timing is all-important in these matters. When we returned to Giza the sun was low enough to cast useful shadows; the tourists had begun to disperse, but there were still a number of people ready to turn and stare. As well they might! Draped dramatically across the saddle and supported by David’s arms, my loosened hair streaming out in the wind, I rested my head against his shoulder and said, under my breath, “This is a cursed uncomfortable position, David. Let us not linger any longer than is absolutely necessary.”
“Sssh!” He was trying not to laugh.
Trailed by a curious throng, Risha picked his way through the tumbled sand and debris till we were close to our tomb. David pulled him up in a flamboyant and completely unnecessary rearing stop, and Emerson came running toward us.
“What has happened?” he shouted at the top of his lungs. “Peabody, my dear—”
“I am perfectly all right, Emerson,” I shouted back.