Tomb of the Golden Bird - Elizabeth Peters [72]
Everyone wanted to come with me (though Sethos’s offer was somewhat perfunctory), but it did not take long to convince them that a descent in force would only attract undesired attention. Ramses retreated to his workroom, Daoud went with the others to the West Valley, and I set off alone for Gurneh, leaving Sethos coolly drinking coffee.
Kadija was expecting me. “I am sorry to put you to this trouble,” I began.
Arms folded, she shrugged her broad shoulders. “It is no trouble, Sitt Hakim. Though it was trouble for Daoud,” she added with one of her rare smiles. Kadija admired strong women.
She had locked Margaret into one of the rooms reserved for visitors. It had only one small window, high in the wall, but it was pleasant enough, with a nice little bed, a basin of water for washing, and bottles of water and lemonade. I had supplied various items to make the prisoner more comfortable, including a reading lamp and several of the latest novels. Margaret was sitting on a pile of cushions when I entered. She looked up and then rose.
Many people, including my husband, claimed Margaret and I resembled each other. I could never see it myself, though her hair, like mine, was thick and black. She was a few inches taller than my meager five feet and a bit, and her figure was not so full, particularly around the chest. Her features were strongly marked, with dark brows and a prominent chin. It protruded even more than usual just then.
“Would you like a proper chair?” I asked, observing that she had had some difficulty getting to her feet.
“I would like an explanation.” She sat down on the bed and folded her hands.
“You are taking it well,” I said. “Daoud said you stopped struggling as soon as he put you over his shoulder.”
“I accepted the futility of struggling with a man the size of Daoud.”
“And you knew he was acting on my orders.”
“I assumed so. But you cannot keep me a prisoner, Mrs. Emerson.” Her dark eyes smoldered. “I’ll get away by one means or another.”
So I was no longer Amelia to her. I couldn’t blame her.
“When I explain, you will understand why I had to act as I did. Are you aware that your husband is in mortal danger?”
“There is nothing new about that.”
“Don’t you care?”
Her eyes no longer smoldered. They blazed. “He promised me before we were married that he would give up his career, if you can call it that. He lied. It was his choice. I cannot spend the rest of my life in agony over a man who cares so little for me that he…”
Her voice cracked, and she bit her lip. So she did still care for him. I hadn’t been certain. Their affair had been temptestuous. However, a lasting relationship is not based on passion alone but on mutual esteem as well. I had to admit Sethos hadn’t shown much for her.
However, this was not the time to settle their marital difficulties. I would work on that later. Without further delay I told her about Sethos’s present situation. I held nothing back, for there was a chance she might have a useful idea. “The danger to you cannot be dismissed,” I concluded. “The people who are after him may know his true identity, in which case they will know you are his wife.”
One quality of Margaret’s that I believe I may claim to share was that she was quick to understand the ramifications. She at once realized that I had acted out of concern for her, and her face softened a trifle.
“It is an interesting problem,” she conceded. “The attack on that unfortunate young man—Nadji?—and the comments he overheard certainly suggest that he was mistaken for my husband. His opponents can’t be very clever, though, since the two do not have the same physical characteristics. Does that mean they don’t have an accurate description?”
“That occurred to me, of course. It seems unlikely that they don’t know what he looks like, but I confess I cannot explain the attack on Nadji.”
Margaret shrugged. “I wish I could help, but I know nothing about his recent activities. Must I stay here until the matter is resolved—one way or another?”
I wasn’t entirely certain what she