Lord of the Silent - Elizabeth Peters [45]
Emerson looked from Gargery to Fatima. Both of them were nodding vigorously. Despite their competitiveness in regard to serving the food, they were allies in all matters that might affect our safety and well-being, and if Fatima believed the situation was serious she would inform Selim and Daoud and Kadija, and then the whole lot of them would be trailing after us. Recognizing the logic of my remark, Emerson said, “It seems Miss Minton ran into Sethos summer before last, when she was in Arabia. She was unaware of what happened this past winter.”
“Ah,” said Gargery. “So he is dead, then. You wouldn’t lie to me, would you, sir?”
“No,” said Emerson.
I hoped we had seen the last of Miss Minton, but I did not count on it, especially since I had taken the liberty of borrowing her manuscript. In the hope of forestalling further communications I copied the pages out before I went to bed that night and sent them back to her by messenger the following morning, with a little note explaining politely but firmly that I had told her all I could and saw no reason for further contact. Somewhat to my surprise, there was no response. Perhaps she had regretted her decision to confide in me. It had certainly been a most revealing document.
With Miss Minton on the trail, I was all the more determined to get the children away from Cairo. There was no reason why they could not leave immediately; the Amelia was ready, and after remaining blandly indifferent to his father’s increasingly blunt hints, Ramses had finally announced that he was willing to go. He had given up hope of hearing from Asad, who could easily have communicated with him had he chosen to do so. We concluded that he had left the city for parts unknown.
It was Nefret, however, who had been the deciding factor. We had had a little chat one day, while we were cutting flowers for the saloon. The roses were particularly pretty that year.
“Did Father agree?” she asked.
“Emerson proposed the scheme himself,” I assured her. “Not that I believe there is any cause for concern. Emerson really is worried about the Luxor tombs. You wouldn’t mind leaving the hospital for a while?”
For a few moments she was silent, her attention apparently fixed on the perfectly formed crimson rose she held. Then she said, “You know that when I went back to Switzerland to complete my medical training it was a form of penance.”
“My dear girl, we agreed not to refer again to those unhappy times.”
She went on as if I had not spoken. “The hospital was in desperate need of a woman surgeon. It still is. Aunt Amelia—Mother—” She put the secateurs down and turned to face me. “Is it wrong to care so much about someone that nothing and no one else matters to you?”
“I don’t know whether it is right or wrong, my dear; but I understand.”
“I thought I loved him before we were married, but it was nothing to the way I feel now. You know how much the hospital means to me. I would abandon it forever, without a backward look, if it would help to keep him safe.”
“Now, my dear, there is no need for such a theatrical gesture,” I remarked, for I felt it advisable to lower the emotional temperature. “Ramses would not want you to give up your professional career on his account; in fact, he would be extremely vexed if you considered such a thing. So we are agreed? You can persuade him?”
“Oh, yes.” Her pensive features relaxed into a little smile. “I can persuade him.”
I had not doubted she could. To say that her slightest wish was his command would not have been strictly true—and a good thing, too, for a man who will give in to a woman’s every whim is not worth having—and the other way round, of course—but one had only to see them together to know that the attachment was as strong on his part as it was on hers.
The only remaining difficulty was Sennia. However, she returned from school that afternoon looking quite pleased with herself, and started telling us about her friends Mark and Elizabeth.