Lord of the Silent - Elizabeth Peters [156]
“It seemed to me that the best scheme—subject of course to your approval, dear Amelia—would be for you to take her back to Cairo with you. None of the schools here can teach her anything more. Cyrus and I would be delighted to bear the cost of her education.”
I felt sure they would be. For Katherine, at least, no sum would be too great if it would remove the girl from her beloved and susceptible son.
“I see no objection,” I replied. “I would want to meet her first, of course.”
“There will be no difficulty about that,” Katherine replied somewhat snappishly. “She has been here almost every afternoon. Bertie has begun studying hieroglyphs with Mr. Barton, and he suggested she join the class.”
Cyrus had overheard. “Well, now, Amelia, doesn’t that make sense to you? A little competition spurs a student to work harder, don’t you think? He’ll have to spread himself to keep up with her.”
It was clear, from his appeal, that he and Katherine had had words on the subject. Naturally I agreed with Cyrus. In my opinion there was not the slightest possibility that a serious attachment could develop—the girl was only sixteen, and once Bertie was back in the world again he would undoubtedly find other young women to whom he was attracted. In the meantime, anything that encouraged the boy to perk up was all to the good. Only time would tell whether his interest in Egyptology would last. I sincerely hoped so. It would be just the thing for him, and would please Cyrus a great deal.
Before I could express my views—more tactfully than I have done in this private journal—Sennia interrupted. Tearing her attention away from Ramses, she announced, “I can teach Bertie hieroglyphs. He doesn’t need another teacher.”
“I’m sure you could,” Bertie said, with an affectionate grin. “But we didn’t know you were coming, Sennia, and you will be going back to Cairo before long. I’d invite you to attend the class, but I’m afraid it wouldn’t be advanced enough for you.”
This left Sennia in something of a quandary, for though she obviously agreed with Bertie’s assessment of her skills, she was loath to abandon her role as mentor.
While she was thinking it over, Albert announced that luncheon was served, and we had to force down more food. I had been watching Ramses closely, and as the meal went on I began to see signs of fidgeting—not easy to observe in an individual so controlled, but clearly perceptible to his mother. My burgeoning suspicions were strengthened when he and Nefret declined Katherine’s thoughtful suggestion that we four might like a little time together.
“You’ll want to rest for a while, surely,” Nefret said to me. “One doesn’t sleep well on a train, and you must have been frightfully busy getting ready to leave on such short notice.”
“Who needs to rest?” Emerson demanded. “Cyrus and I are going to Gurneh to talk with Yusuf about hiring a crew.”
A general outcry from everyone except Cyrus—and William, who had not ventured to express an opinion on any subject whatever—put an end to this idea. I reminded Emerson that we had yet to unpack and settle in. “And,” I added, with a meaningful look at my son, “there is still a great deal of news to be imparted.”
“Quite,” said Ramses, rising in haste. “After you’ve had a good long rest. We will come back for tea, if we may.”
“Supposing Emerson and I come to you,” I said. “I yearn to see the dear old Amelia again.”
Nefret’s countenance was a good deal easier to read than that of Ramses, but she rallied quickly. “Of course. What a good idea.”
I managed to nag and prod Emerson into leaving earlier than he had intended, not because I hoped to catch my dear children doing something of which I would not approve . . . Ah well, if I must be honest, that was exactly what I hoped. That they had some private and secret activity planned for the afternoon was manifest from