The Deeds of the Disturber - Elizabeth Peters [85]
Gargery had been watching for us. He opened the door before I could knock, and fell back, eyes wide with consternation, as I pulled the dripping, squirming, filthy child into the hall.
He was not Ramses.
Even the muck that smeared his face could not blur features so distinct from those of my son. This child’s nose was a mere button; the eyes that gleamed ferretlike between squinting lids were a pale, washed-out blue.
‘Emerson,’ I said. ‘You will wake the whole house laughing so loudly. I see nothing amusing in the situation.’
I started up the stairs. Emerson stayed behind in the hall; I heard the chink of coins – his inevitable panacea for social distress – and a muttered colloquy with Gargery, broken by infuriating gurgles of laughter. He soon caught me up, however, and put his arm around my shoulders.
‘Off to bed, are you, Peabody? Good, good. You must be very tired. I believe I will just –’
‘If you are going to look in on Ramses, I will accompany you. I will not believe that child is where he is supposed to be until I see it with my own eyes.’
Ramses was where he was supposed to be, in the strict legal sense of the phrase, though he was not in his bed. His door was open and he stood on the threshold, his small bare toes just touching the sill. ‘Good evening, Mama, good evening, Papa,’ he began. ‘Hearing Papa’s voice downstairs, I ventured to –’
‘Go to bed, Ramses,’ I said.
‘Yes, Mama. May I venture to ask –’
‘No, you may not.’
‘Knowing of your destination,’ said Ramses, trying another tack, ‘I was in some concern for your safety. I trust you have taken no –’
‘Oh, good Gad,’ I cried. ‘Does nothing escape your insatiable curiosity, Ramses?’
‘Ssssh,’ said Emerson, putting his finger to his lips. ‘You will wake the children, Amelia. I don’t doubt that every servant in the house has been gossiping about our expedition; didn’t you observe Gargery lurking at the library door while we were talking with O’Connell? Since you are awake, Ramses, and understandably concerned, come downstairs and Papa will tell you all about it. I promised Gargery –’
‘Ramses is confined to his room,’ I reminded Emerson. My voice was, as I hope it always is, quite calm.
‘Ah, yes,’ said Emerson. ‘I had forgotten. In that case, I will ask Gargery to come up here. I promised him . . .’
I am the most tolerant of women, but to join my husband, my son, and my butler in a discussion of our evening in an opium den and at Bow Street was really a bit too much. I went to bed, knowing full well that one of Emerson’s reasons for such uncouth conviviality was to avoid the questions he expected on a certain subject I had vowed not to mention again.
IX
HOW long the discussion continued I cannot say; but I know that the housemaids complained next day of the strong smell of pipe smoke and beer in Ramses’ room, and I was obliged, in all fairness, to clear him of the imputed accusation. When I awoke, Emerson was at my side, sleeping as sweetly as if he had nothing whatever on his conscience, and smiling in a way that roused the direst suspicions. He had taken care not to disturb me when he came to bed.
Though I had slept only a few hours, I felt quite fresh and full of ambition. Righteous indignation has that effect on my character.
As I sat at breakfast looking through the morning post I was pleased to find letters from Evelyn and from Rose. The latter elaborated on the recovery of Bastet in terms that made plain the writer’s affection for that estimable animal, and reassured me as to its health. Rose’s conjectures concerning the reasons for the cat’s absence and subsequent return need not be repeated here, for I have already touched upon them; and succeeding events were to prove her – and me – quite correct. (Though no one has ever explained, to my satisfaction, why a feline of such outstanding intelligence should have been so retarded in this particularly interesting area.)
Evelyn’s letter contained the usual amiable domestic news, but unfortunately she had seen the reports of the riot at the Museum, and her alarm and distress filled several