Lord of the Silent - Elizabeth Peters [130]
“Oh, I don’t mind,” Bertie said quickly. “I’d like to take a hand myself as soon as I’m feeling a bit stronger. Er—was that young woman at the station one of your people, Ramses?”
“No. Well—yes, I suppose she is. In a way.”
Nefret gave him an amused look and explained.
“I remember her,” Katherine said. “Miss Pinch said she was one of the most capable students she had ever taught, but of course there was no future for the girl. I’m surprised Yusuf hasn’t married her off by now.”
“She’s trying to make her own future,” Nefret said. “You should have heard her, Katherine, insisting that she could be just as good a reis as Jamil.”
“She didn’t say as good,” Ramses corrected. “She said she’d be better. That wouldn’t be difficult. Jamil is lazy and disinterested. Don’t even think of hiring him, Cyrus.”
Cyrus grinned. “I could tell by the look on your face what you thought of him. Maybe I’d better hire the girl.”
“Don’t make fun of her,” Nefret said, dividing a frown between Cyrus and Ramses. “Why can’t she be trained as an Egyptologist, as David was? Would you be willing to help, Katherine?”
“Of course she will,” Bertie said. “Won’t you, Mother? I mean to say, just because she’s a girl—”
His mother fixed him with a curious stare and he stuttered to a stop. “She was a pretty child,” Katherine said. “I expect she’s turned into quite an attractive young woman.”
“She’s a stunner,” Cyrus said enthusiastically.
His wife turned the stare on him. “You saw her?”
“I didn’t know who she was, but I couldn’t help noticing her. Any man would.”
Nefret decided it would be advisable to change the subject. “How is Anna getting on? I believe Mother said she had finished her V.A.D. training.”
Before the meal was over Bertie showed signs of fatigue, and Ramses offered to help him upstairs, an offer Bertie accepted. The others had finished dinner and had retired to the drawing room before Ramses came back. He accepted a cup of coffee and responded to Katherine’s anxious look with a reassuring smile.
“He wanted to talk. Got a few things off his chest, I think.”
“I’m so glad,” Katherine murmured. “Thank you, Ramses.”
“I didn’t do anything. Just listened. And,” Ramses went on, “I assured him that it wasn’t too late to begin a career in Egyptology.”
“Really?” Cyrus leaned forward, his eyes bright. “Holy Jehoshaphat, but that’s wonderful! D’you think he means it?”
“It seems to have given him a new incentive to recover. He was gulping down pills and drinking some noxious brew that’s supposed to build him up.”
“I’ll see Yusuf tomorrow,” Cyrus declared. “Get a crew together. Do some preliminary surveying. Talk to MacKay about permits. The Valley of the Queens, maybe.”
Nefret had been watching her husband. He was doing his best to enter into Cyrus’s enthusiastic plans, but his eyes were half veiled by lowered lashes and he looked tired. She made their excuses as soon as she could. Cyrus ordered his carriage, but they had gone less than a mile when Ramses ordered the driver to stop and got out of the vehicle. “I feel like walking. Go on, I’ll see you in a bit.”
“I’d like a walk too.” He stood looking down at her, his face in shadow, and she added uncertainly, “Unless you’d rather be alone?”
“No.” He lifted her down and they started off arm in arm. The road was pale in the moonlight.
“Was it bad?”
“About what you might expect. Mud, pain, vermin, fear, loneliness, disillusionment. You don’t want to hear the details. The worst of it was realizing that the enemy weren’t demons but men like himself—just as lonely for their homes and families, just as frightened.”
“I think he’ll be all right,” Nefret said gently.
“I hope so.” He laughed, suddenly and unexpectedly. “He’s certainly found a new interest in life. Peppered me with ingenuous questions about excavating—as if I couldn’t tell what was really on his mind. God help me, I heard myself offering to give him a few lessons in hieroglyphs and Egyptian history.”
“With Jumana?”
“That was definitely implied.”
“Poor