The Ape Who Guards the Balance - Elizabeth Peters [124]
It would have been rude as well as risky to abandon our guests without a word, however, so I was forced to wait until the weary travelers had had their sleep out. Lia was the first to wake; her cry of surprise roused her mother, and when I went in I found them locked in a fond embrace.
When we met for a late breakfast, I was not surprised to find that the alleviation of Walter’s concern had been succeeded by extreme annoyance. This is the normal parental reaction. Lia’s response was normal too, for a person of her age. One night’s sleep had fully restored her, and although she expressed her regret for having worried them I did not suppose she meant a word of it. Her face glowed with happiness and excitement, whereas her parents looked ten years older.
The appearance of Sir Edward made Walter put an end to his lecture. He and Evelyn were well acquainted with the young man, and expressed their pleasure at seeing him again. He was easily persuaded to join us for coffee. “I wondered whether you had decided on your plans for the day, Mrs. Emerson,” he explained. “What would you like me to do?”
This reminder, tactful though it was, had a sobering effect. I explained that we had decided to wait until the others returned before discussing our plans, not only for that day, but for the immediate future. “So I may as well go on over to the Valley,” I said casually. “The rest of you stay here.”
The objections to this reasonable suggestion ranged from Lia’s outthrust lip and mutinous look to Walter’s indignant protest: “You certainly are not going off alone, Amelia.”
Sir Edward and Evelyn added their remonstrances, so it was decided that the best thing would be for all of us to go. Fatima packed an enormous lunch, and we were in good spirits when we set out. The secret of happiness is to enjoy the moment, without allowing unhappy memories or fear of the future to shadow the shining present. It was a shining day, with bright sunlight and clear air; we were on our way to one of the most romantic spots on earth, with loved ones to welcome us and wonderful sights to see. Lia’s excitement was so great she kept urging her little donkey to a quicker pace, and Walter forgot care in his interest in the new tomb. He was a scholar as well as a fond father, and he had excavated in Egypt for many years.
Sir Edward was on horseback, but since there were not enough horses for all of us I rode a donkey so that I could chat comfortably with Evelyn—as comfortably, that is, as the pace of a donkey permits. She had a professional reputation of her own, as an excellent painter of Egyptian scenes; but that day her interest in archaeology was overcome by her affectionate care, not only for her child, but for the rest of us.
“I really do not know what I am to do with you, Amelia! Why can’t you and Emerson have a single season of excavation without becoming involved with desperate criminals?”
“Now that is certainly an exaggeration, Evelyn. The 1901–02 season . . . No, that was the Cairo Museum swindle. Or was it that season that Ramses . . . Well, never mind.”
“It’s getting worse, Amelia.”
“Not really, my dear; it is pretty much the same sort of thing. The only difference is that the children are taking a more active role.”
I had never been certain how much Evelyn knew, or suspected, about my encounters with Sethos. There seemed no sense in keeping from her matters the children already knew, so I poured forth the entire story. Over the years I had developed a great respect for Evelyn’s acumen. She was surprised—I thought she would fall off her donkey when I described the seductive garments Sethos had once demanded I assume—but when I had finished, her first comment was practical