The Falcon at the Portal - Elizabeth Peters [96]
Emerson sang louder than anyone else but the rest of us managed to drown him out. He enjoyed himself a great deal.
The older guests began to drift away. Nefret remained at the piano, playing bits of melody and humming softly to herself. I went with Karl to the door and asked Mr. Fisher, who was leaving at the same time, if he would see Karl safely home. Karl kept assuring me of his profound admiration and trying to kiss my hand. “If at any time you wish me to die for you, Frau Emerson, you have only to say the word,” he remarked. “You have been a friend to a lonely man and forgiven a sinner for a crime he will never forgive himself. Your magnanim”
However, he got tangled up in the syllables and could not stop, so I pushed him gently into Mr. Fisher’s grasp and said good night to both. They went off arm in arm, singing. Mr. Fisher was rendering “The Holly and the Ivy” and Karl “Vom Himmel Hoch.” Both were off key.
When I returned to the sitting room, Nefret was trying to persuade Ramses to sing with her. He has rather a pleasant voice and they sound well together, but he hardly ever consented to perform in front of strangers. I supposed he considered it beneath his dignity. Geoffrey offered to take his place, so we had a nice little concert, with all the old favorites and some of the newest songs from the music halls and theaters. “When I was Twenty-One and You Were Sweet Sixteen” was popular that year; in the mellow lamplight, with the curls clustering round his brow, Geoffrey looked no more than sixteen himself, but he had a surprisingly, robust baritone. I remember he rendered one of Harry Lauder’s Scottish songs with surprising panache and an exaggerated accent that made us all chuckle. I had never seen him enjoy himself so much.
FROM LETTER COLLECTION B
Dear Lia,
I am peppering you with letters, aren’t I? I had to respond at once to your last, for it seemed to hold a certain note of reproach. My darling Lia, no one will ever replace you as my confidante; certainly not Maude Reynolds! If I have mentioned her often, it is only because the confounded girl is always here! So it feels, at any rate. I’ve told you why. She and I could never be friends; we have nothing in common; but I feel so sorry for her I can’t bring myself to keep her entirely at arm’s length. She’s head over heels, Lia; it’s one of the worst cases I’ve ever seen. She has sense enough to know he prefers women with intelligence and spunk, but her desperate efforts to impress him are so pitifully inept! I told you about the time she followed us down into the pyramid; it took a lot of courage, because she was absolutely petrified with fear, and of course it backfired the way such gestures often do. When she saw Ramses on Risha she insisted on trying to ride, and made a perfect fool of herself bouncing up and down in that stiff style. It’s impossible to fall off Risha unless he wants you off, but she came close.
Ramses is handling it well—he’s had plenty of practice!—but he’s hating the whole business. You know, he’s really very sensitive under that stony exterior. It’s that quality that really attracts women, isn’t it? Especially when the man in question is also tall and strong and handsome.
But I meant to tell you about our Christmas. You were sadly missed, my dears. Aunt Amelia and I did our best, but our decorative skills couldn’t begin to match David’s. Your parcel arrived in good time, somewhat battered, but intact—you shouldn’t have taken the trouble, darling, but I loved the Greek earrings … [Several paragraphs of miscellaneous gossip omitted.]
The only other news of mild interest is that I have had two proposals of marriage—that makes three this season, including Percy’s, which is of course the one I cherish most. Yes, Jack Reynolds took the plunge, emboldened, I do not doubt, by Mr. Vandergelt’s champagne. I refused him cheerfully and amiably and he informed me, cheerfully and amiably, that he would try again. Why can’t men take no for an answer? He was a perfect gentleman,