The Hippopotamus Pool - Elizabeth Peters [177]
‘But you had some idea of its becoming something more.’
His eyes shone with unconcealed amusement. ‘I have never taken you in, have I, Mrs Emerson? You know how it is with us younger sons; an advantageous marriage is our only hope of getting on in the world. She represented herself as a wealthy window; she was young, attractive, and – er – receptive to sympathy.’
‘And Nefret?’
He laughed aloud and shook his head. ‘You need have no fears for the virtue of your ward, Mrs Emerson. I was unaware of her identity when I first met her. Once I learned that she was Lord Blacktower’s heiress . . . Well, she is worth waiting for, don’t you think? In a few more years she will be even more beautiful, and in control of her own fortune.’
‘I admire your candour if not your principles,’ I said. ‘It might be advisable for us to leave now, don’t you think?’
Unaided, he got to his feet and preceded me into the next room. It was unoccupied; Layla had deemed it advisable to remove herself.
‘Can you manage?’ I asked. ‘Take my arm, if you are feeling faint.’
‘The injury is superficial. I feel very foolish for having behaved so feebly.’
The injury was superficial. He had feigned faintness because he was reluctant to lay violent hands on a woman – not only a woman, but a lady, and a lady, moreover, for whom he had felt some tenderness. Some might call this chivalrous. I call it silly and impractical, but his action had relieved me of a painful decision. It would have been difficult to condemn a woman in her delicate condition to the rigours of prison, and in fact I had no proof of criminal behaviour on her part except for her attack on me – and I understood the motive for that only too well. Had I not felt the same pangs of jealous rage when I feared I had lost Emerson’s love to another? My jealousy had been transitory and without foundation; Bertha’s was fixed and without hope, for Emerson would never be hers. No wonder she hated me!
Musing thus, I allowed Sir Edward to lead me to where the horses were waiting. He tossed the urchin who had been holding them a coin, and helped me to mount. ‘Are you going to tell your husband about this little adventure?’ he inquired.
‘I see no other choice.’ Tenderly I touched my bruised throat. ‘Unless you would like to confess to throttling me.’
He returned my quip with a jest of his own. ‘And you to stabbing me.’
‘He is going to roar,’ I said regretfully. ‘Ah well, venting his emotions will be good for him. Er – I will tell him the exact truth, of course: that I came to pay my respects to Abd el Hamed’s widow and was astonished to discover she was harbouring the mystery woman. She will claim, of course, that she was ignorant of her late husband’s criminal activities, and that she had no idea the poor Inglîzi lady was involved in them. The lady came to her because . . . hmmm, let me think. Because she had wearied of the social life of the hotel and wanted solitude and peace, far from the madding crowd? Out of the kindness of her heart Layla took the lady in . . . Yes, something along those lines.’
‘Oh, well done!’ Sir Edward exclaimed. ‘Have you ever thought of writing a novel, Mrs Emerson? You have quite a gift for fiction.’
‘That is what she will say,’ I replied somewhat severely. ‘I never lie to my husband, Sir Edward. I will tell him the exact truth – that to my utter astonishment I was attacked by a female whose existence we had postulated, but of whose identity we were . . . Er, I presume, Sir Edward, that you arrived at the house only moments before you burst into the room? I am curious to discover how you knew I was in need of rescue, since I do not recall crying out.’
‘I do not suppose you could have cried out; you were being throttled very efficiently.