The Snake, the Crocodile, and the Dog - Elizabeth Peters [9]
“Come along, Walter.” Emerson rose. “We are in disgrace and may as well spare ourselves the trouble of self-defense. A woman convinced against her will—”
I threw a muffin at him. He caught it neatly in midair, grinned, and walked off, trailed unwillingly by Walter.
“I do beg your pardon, Amelia,” Evelyn said. “If I have put Radcliffe in a bad humor …”
“Nonsense, your criticism was much milder than the sort he is accustomed to receive from me. As for being in a bad humor, have you ever seen him more pleased with himself, more cursedly complacent, more infuriatingly good-natured?”
“Most women would not find that a source of complaint,” Evelyn said, smiling.
“It is not the Emerson I know. Why, Evelyn, he has not used bad language—not a single, solitary ‘damnation!’— since we returned from Egypt.” Evelyn laughed; I went on in mounting indignation, “The truth is, he simply refuses to admit that we have a serious problem on our hands.”
“Or rather, under the oak tree.” Evelyn’s smile faded as she contemplated the girl’s graceful figure. The kitten had wandered off and Nefret sat perfectly still, her hands in her lap, looking out across the lawn. Sunlight sifting through the leaves struck sparks from her hair, and the diffusion of light made her look as if she were enclosed in a golden shadow.
“She is as remote and beautiful as a young goddess,” Evelyn said softly, echoing my own thought. “What is to become of such a girl?”
“She is willing and intelligent; she will adjust,” I said firmly. “And she seems happy enough. She has not complained.”
“She has learned fortitude in a hard school, I fancy. But then, my dear Amelia, she has little to complain of so far. You have—quite rightly, in my opinion—kept her relatively sheltered from the outside world. All of us accept her and love her as she is. Sooner or later, however, she must take her rightful place in the world that is hers by birth, and that world is pitilessly intolerant of anything different.”
“Do you suppose I am unaware of that?” I said, adding with a laugh, “There are some individuals who actually consider ME eccentric. I pay no attention to them, of course, but… well, I admit I have wondered if I am the best possible mentor for Nefret.”
“She could not do better than emulate you,” Evelyn said warmly. “And you know you can count on me to help in any way I can.”
“We shall get on all right, I expect,” I said, my natural optimism reasserting itself. “After all, I survived ten years of Ramses. With your help, and that of Walter… You were perhaps a little hard on him, dearest Evelyn. The decipherment of ancient unknown languages is not only his profession but his most passionate interest. Next to you, of course—and the children …”
“I wonder.” Evelyn looked like a Raphael Madonna, golden-haired and sweet-faced, with the babe cradled in her arms, but her voice held a note I had never heard in it before. “How strangely the years change us, Amelia … I dreamed last night of Amarna.”
It was the last thing I ever expected to hear her say, and it had the oddest effect on me. An image flashed across my eyes, so vivid that it replaced reality: a scene of baking desert sands and frowning cliffs, as empty of life as a lunar landscape. I could almost feel the hot dry air against my skin; I seemed to hear again the ghastly moaning cries of the apparition that had threatened our lives and sanity.… *
With an effort I shook off this seductive image. Unaware of my distraction, Evelyn had gone on speaking. “Do you remember how he looked that day, Amelia—the day he first declared his love? Pale and handsome as a young god, holding my hands in his as he called me the loveliest and most courageous of women? No crumbling papyrus or Rosetta Stone would have replaced me in his heart then. Danger, doubt, and discomfort notwithstanding, those were wonderful days! I even find myself thinking fondly of that wretched man and his absurd mummy