Lord of the Silent - Elizabeth Peters [146]
“Vandergelt Effendi?” he repeated hollowly. “Here?”
Cyrus was waiting in the saloon, impeccably garbed in his favorite snowy linen, radiating good humor. He gave his disheveled host a long look, and his eyes twinkled.
“Hope I’m not disturbing you. Figured you’d be up and about by now.”
“We were. We are.” Ramses tried to smooth his hair and focus his brain. He still hadn’t thought of a story to tell Cyrus. “Always glad to see you. How is Bertie getting on?”
“Real well.” The twinkle intensified. “Even better since our little visitor dropped by.”
“Good Lord.” Ramses dropped into a chair. “Jumana?”
Nefret arrived in time to hear the last word. “What’s she done now?”
“Paid a call on Katherine, proper as you please. Presented her with a pretty bouquet. Got the flowers out of my garden, I think,” Cyrus added with a grin. “That’s quite a girl. She said you had promised to teach her everything she needs to know to become an Egyptologist.”
“What else did she say?” Ramses asked apprehensively.
“Quite a lot. She was trying to impress us with how much she already knew about the subject.”
“I do apologize, Cyrus,” Nefret said.
“What for? No reason why she shouldn’t pay her respects, even if she did have an ax to grind. It’s a refreshing change to find someone who wants books instead of baksheesh. And I’ll tell you something else. Bertie perked up like you wouldn’t believe.” Cyrus chuckled. “He didn’t make much headway with the young lady; once he’d admitted he wasn’t an Egyptologist she ignored him as if he were a block of wood. As soon as she left he went off to his room with a stack of books.”
Nefret looked at her husband. There was no meaningful exchange of glances this time; his face had gone courteously blank and she knew he had stopped listening to Cyrus. There was enough on his mind, heaven knew, but Nefret had a feeling he wasn’t taking this latest development seriously enough. Katherine would certainly disapprove of Bertie’s attachment to an Egyptian girl, however innocent the relationship.
I’ll make damned good and sure it is innocent, Nefret thought—for Jumana’s sake if not for Bertie’s.
She brought her attention back to Cyrus, who had launched into an animated discussion of his future plans. Bertie wasn’t the only one who had “perked up” since they arrived in Luxor.
“I thought maybe you two would like to go around with me looking for possible sites.”
Ramses looked as if he had been poleaxed. “Today?”
“I’m anxious to get started. But if you folks have something else to do—”
“I’m afraid we are busy today,” Nefret said. “What about tomorrow—or the day after?”
“Why, sure.” Cyrus rose and picked up his hat. “You’ll have to excuse me. I got so carried away I forgot you might have other plans.”
“Not at all,” Nefret said. “We’d love to go with you. Soon.”
“There’s no hurry,” Cyrus said amiably. “Lots of other things I can do. I might have a word with Yusuf, ask if he has any suggestions.”
“Excellent idea,” Ramses said.
As soon as Cyrus had gone he turned on Nefret. “Tomorrow? He won’t be recovered by then, will he?”
“Probably not. We’ll just have to put Cyrus off again. You didn’t tell him about his ailing sister.”
“I couldn’t think of any explanation that made sense,” Ramses admitted. “My brain seems to have gone dead.”
“Small wonder. Why don’t you get a few hours’ sleep?”
He went to her and took her hands in his. “You didn’t get much sleep last night either.”
“I don’t have the kind of day ahead that you do.” She freed her hands and put them on his shoulders. “Go and lie down. I’ll wake you in time for lunch.”
He hadn’t supposed he would sleep but he did, waking of his own accord after a dream so outrageously horrific that he smiled drowsily as he remembered it. The boat capsizing and Margaret calling him names as she sank, while he trod water and made no move to rescue her; Cyrus riding up and down the west bank, bellowing, “That’s not my sister Emmeline!”; Sethos telling Nefret that he would