The Mummy Case - Elizabeth Peters [79]
As soon as she recovered she insisted, almost hysterically, upon leaving the room. Apparently the very idea of being in a young man’s bedchamber in her nightgown was indelicate. I had ascertained that she was unharmed, so I gave in to her foolish insistence, and when we reached the parlor she became calmer.
The expected invasion had not yet occurred, but I felt sure Emerson was right; the outraged brother would come in search of his sister, and Brother David would undoubtedly be with him, though Emerson’s designation of the latter as Charity’s lover was only another example of Emerson’s failure to comprehend the subtler currents of the human heart. I decided I had better take advantage of this opportunity to talk with the girl alone, and I got straight to the point.
“You must not be angry with John, Miss Charity. His action was precipitate and thoughtless, but his motives were of the best. His only concern was for your safety.”
“I see that now.” The girl brushed the waving locks from her face. “But it was a terrifying experience—the shouting, and the flames—then to be seized like that, without warning…. I have never—it is the first time a man…”
“I daresay. You have missed a great many things, Miss Charity. Most ill-advised, in my opinion. But never mind that. Don’t you like John?”
“He is very kind,” the girl said slowly. “But very, very large.”
“But that can be an advantage, don’t you think?” Charity stared at me in bewilderment, and I went on, “No, you would not know. But let me assure you, as a respectable married woman, that the combination of physical strength and moral sensibility, combined with tenderness of heart, is exactly what is wanted in a husband. The combination is rare, I confess, but when one encounters it—”
“Tactful as always, Amelia,” said a voice from the doorway.
“Ah, there you are, Emerson. I was just explaining to Miss Charity—”
“I heard you.” Emerson came into the room, buttoning his shirt. “Your tactics rather resemble those of a battering ram, my dear. Why don’t you make the tea and leave the poor girl alone?”
“The tea is ready. But, Emerson—”
“Please, Amelia. I believe I hear the approach of the invasion I mentioned, and if I don’t have my tea before I face it…”
The girl had shrunk down into her chair, her arms clutching her body and her face averted, though Emerson politely refrained from looking at her. When the strident accents of Brother Ezekiel were heard she looked as if she were trying to squeeze her body into the framework of the chair.
Emerson hastily gulped his tea, and I went to the door to see whom the visitor was addressing. As I might have expected, it was Ramses.
“I told you to stay in your room,” I said.
“You told me to go to my room, but you did not say to stay dere. Seeing dis person approaching, I felt it would be advisable for someone to meet him in order to—”
“Talks a blue streak, don’t he?” Brother Ezekiel slid clumsily off his donkey and fixed Ramses with a critical stare. “Sonny, don’t you know children should be seen and not heard?”
“No, I don’t,” Ramses replied. “Dat is to say, sir, I have heard dat sentiment expressed more dan once, but it is no more dan an opinion and it is not based on sound t’eories of—”
“That will do, Ramses,” I said, with a sigh. “Brother Ezekiel, will you come in? Your sister is here, safe and sound.”
“So you say.” Brother Ezekiel pushed past me. “Well, she’s here, at any rate. Charity, where’s your penknife?”
The girl rose. Head bowed, she murmured from under the hair that veiled her face, “Under my pillow, brother. There was such confusion I forgot—”
“Didn’t I tell you never to take a step without that weapon?” Brother Ezekiel thundered.
“I am guilty, brother.”
“Yes, you are. And you’ll be punished.”
“A moment, sir.” Emerson spoke in the purring rumble that often deceived persons unfamiliar with his temperament into believing he was in an affable mood. “I don’t believe we have been formally introduced.”
“It ain’t my fault if we wasn’t,” Ezekiel replied. “At least this here unfortunate