Lord of the Silent - Elizabeth Peters [27]
“Enough of that, Emerson,” I said. “This is a social occasion—at least it would be, if you would leave off badgering the poor man. Have a glass of brandy, Howard.”
“Thank you, ma’am, I believe I will.” Surreptitiously Howard wiped his perspiring brow. “May I smoke?”
“Certainly. Now tell us what you are doing in Cairo.”
Howard looked mysterious, or tried to. “I can’t talk about it, Mrs. Emerson.”
“Ah,” I said. “Intelligence. I am sure you are making yourself useful.”
“You would be of more use in Luxor guarding the tombs,” said Emerson. “Damnation! I am tempted to make a quick trip there myself.”
“One must do what one can for the war effort,” Howard protested.
The poor man looked so uncomfortable I attempted to change the subject. “Howard, do you happen to know of any unemployed Egyptologist who is looking for a position?”
“Why, are you taking on new staff?”
“No,” said Emerson, who had been holding his breath and was thus able to forestall me. “Curse it, Amelia, I thought we had agreed to think the matter over before we took steps.”
“I have thought it over, Emerson. You see, Howard, David, and Lia are not coming out this year. Without them we will be shorthanded, and we can always use a skilled copyist.”
“Ah, yes,” Howard said. “Someone told me they would not be with you. They had a child last year, I believe. Is that why Todros has deserted you?”
Gossip, gossip, I thought. Men love it, no matter what they say. I hastened to clear David of the imputation of disloyalty, but I could tell by Howard’s cynical smile that he considered a wife and child an inadequate excuse.
“I wish I could offer my own services,” he said. “But I am committed to Lord Carnarvon, and I expect to be occupied with—er—other duties. I will put the word out, though I don’t know offhand of anyone.”
We parted soon thereafter and I managed to get myself and Emerson out of the room without our being seen by Miss Minton. I had a feeling we would hear from her before long, however. She was too good a journalist to let go her hold on a source.
When we passed the dock on our way home we saw there were lights in the saloon of the Amelia. Emerson brought the motorcar to a jolting stop. “They are still awake. What do you say we drop in and—”
“No, my dear.”
“Ramses will want to know what Carter said about—”
“Emerson, this is their first evening alone. I expect Ramses will have other things on his mind.”
However, when we got to the house we found them waiting for us in the drawing room. “Ah,” said Emerson, shooting me a triumphant look. “I felt certain you would want to hear the news. What about a final whiskey and soda, eh? We ran into Carter—”
“Do be quiet, Emerson,” I exclaimed. My intuition is seldom at fault, and I had known at once that they had news of graver import than ours. “Something has happened. What?”
“Nothing to worry about,” Ramses said. “I tried to persuade Nefret it could wait until morning, but she insisted we come.”
“A spot of whiskey is definitely in order,” Nefret said grimly.
“That bad, is it?” I inquired, taking the glass Emerson handed me—for he had proceeded to act on his own suggestion. Ramses reached for his, and I remarked, “You are favoring your right arm. Another shirt ruined?”
Ramses let out a sputter of laughter, and Nefret’s tight lips relaxed. “Trust you, Mother, to put the matter in proportion,” she said. “Not only a shirt, but his best linen coat. No, Ramses, you are not allowed to speak; you’ll try to make light of it, and I won’t have that. I will tell them.”
Ramses listened in silence, his eyes moving from her expressive face to the equally expressive movements of her slim hands. He did not interrupt; it was Emerson who exclaimed, “Hell and damnation, Ramses! Why didn’t you defend yourself? You deliberately let him—”
Ramses shrugged. “It was only poor Asad trying to be heroic. He scuttled off as soon as he’d made his point.”
“Was that a pun?” I inquired.
“Inadvertent,” said Ramses.
“Stop that,” Emerson bellowed. “Both of you. All right, Nefret, go on. The