The Falcon at the Portal - Elizabeth Peters [127]
“Children that age learn quickly and forget easily, Amelia. I have a feeling she has been sheltered from the worst of it. A mother can do that—or try to do it.”
Katherine’s first husband had been a drunkard and a wife beater. I did not doubt she knew whereof she spoke.
During dinner an idea occurred to me that I was anxious to investigate. I saw no reason to explain it to Emerson, in case I was mistaken, so I simply informed him that I had not seen Jack Reynolds for several days and felt I ought not neglect that duty.
“He has been doing quite well, but men often relapse unless someone keeps after them,” I explained. “Katherine will go with me, won’t you, Katherine?”
We declined the offers of the gentlemen to accompany us, for I was afraid that if we did find Jack in a state of inebriation he might remember his old grudge and behave badly. Escorted by two of our men carrying lanterns, we set out on foot. It was a beautiful night and Katherine had said she would be the better for a bit of exercise.
We found Jack alone and in full possession of his senses. He was in his study, from which he emerged to greet us carrying the book he had been reading. I was glad to see the book was not a yellowback novel but the first volume of Emerson’s History. The sitting room was neater than it had been on the occasion of my first visit, but it could have done with dusting and there was a faint whiff of that strange odor.
If Jack was not pleased to see us, he was faultlessly polite, offering us chairs and refreshments, the latter of which we declined.
“We were out for a stroll and decided to stop by for a moment,” I explained.
Even a few days without the dire effects of alcohol had restored the young fellow to his former healthy looks and intelligence. “You stopped by to see if I had gone back to the bottle,” he said bluntly. “The cure has begun and you need not fear I will give way again. As you yourself reminded me, I have obligations to carry out.” His jaw protruded and his teeth were bared; I could almost see Mr. Roosevelt leading the charge on San Juan Hill.
“I am delighted to hear it,” I said, hoping I spoke the truth. “We will not keep you longer, then. Is Geoffrey here?”
“I no longer need a nursemaid, Mrs. Emerson.”
“You misunderstood my meaning, Mr. Reynolds. I asked after Geoffrey as I would ask after any friend.”
“Well, then, he’s not here. He went off yesterday—I don’t know where. He left a message saying he’d be gone for a few days. I was away from home.”
“I see. Good night, then.”
He insisted on seeing us to the door, and when I gave him my hand in farewell, he held on to it. “If I was rude or abrupt, Mrs. Emerson, I hope you will forgive me. I will always be grateful to you for your help.”
“What was that all about?” Katherine asked curiously, as we started back toward the villa. “I found his manner very odd, Amelia.”
“Men are very odd, Katherine. I cannot say for certain what is on his mind. I thought I detected some resentment of Geoffrey, but I would not care to say whether Jack was angry because his friend had deserted him or because he had come to his assistance in the first place! The poor creatures do dislike admitting they are dependent on others for help. I must confess that concern for Jack was not my primary reason for calling on him this evening.”
“You thought Nefret might have gone to him?”
“To Geoffrey, rather. She is better friends with some of the young men than with the young ladies of Cairo society, which is not surprising, considering that the latter are empty-headed ninnies. It is surely more than a coincidence that Geoffrey went off leaving such a vague message. If she was in some distress, as I believe her to have been, he would have offered himself as escort to—well, to wherever she wanted to go. Nor would he have betrayed her confidence to Jack. Yes, that must have been what happened. I confess I am relieved to know she is not alone.”
“He is not the sort of man to take