Tomb of the Golden Bird - Elizabeth Peters [78]
“How about me?” Cyrus asked hopefully.
“You will be very welcome, Cyrus. I am sorry I cannot include anyone else.” She gave Suzanne a pleasant smile, and the girl closed her mouth.
“Hmph,” said Emerson. “Ramses, are you going to let that child stuff herself with cake? She will spoil her dinner.”
Ramses removed his daughter from the proximity of the tea table, and their guests, taking the hint, said good-bye.
His mother had one more bombshell for them. Gesturing at the mail basket, she said, “I received a wire from David today. He is coming out to Egypt, with Sennia and Gargery.”
“Good Lord,” Ramses said, taking a firmer hold on his squirming child.
Charla let out a shriek of delight. “Uncle David? And Sennia and Gargery too!”
“That will be very pleasant,” said David John.
“No, it…Er. Yes,” said Emerson in a strangled voice. “Very pleasant. Good Gad, Peabody, I told Gargery in no uncertain terms that he was not to come out to Egypt again. He’s supposed to be a butler, for God’s sake!”
“Language, Emerson,” said his wife. “Gargery considers that his duties include defending us when the occasion demands; he has often wielded a cudgel on our behalf, and he has appointed himself Sennia’s guard and defender.”
“The old rascal can barely walk,” Emerson groaned.
“He claims that his rheumatics improve in our dry hot climate. Medical opinion bears this out.”
“David doesn’t suffer from rheumatics,” Emerson growled. “Confound it, I suppose it’s the dam—er—confounded tomb.”
“They are coming because they want to be with us at this season,” said his wife. “Have you forgotten that Christmas is only a few weeks off?”
Speechless for once, Emerson got heavily to his feet and went for the decanter.
Cyrus turned up early next morning, ready and eager, as he put it. He joined us for coffee, and at my request Nefret repeated her report on her visit with Margaret. “She’s hell-bent on getting an exclusive story,” Nefret said with wrinkled brow. “She kept asking about our ‘feud,’ as she called it, with Lord Carnarvon. I made light of it, and denied all her allegations, but we had better come up with something important or she’ll go for the scandal aspect.”
“What scandal?” Ramses asked. “What allegations?”
“You don’t want to know,” Nefret said, with an amused glance at her husband.
“But there hasn’t been—”
“Newspaper persons will invent scandal if none exists,” I said. “I want you to accompany me to the East Valley this morning, Nefret. You get on well with gentlemen, and Carnarvon can’t have anything against you. You weren’t even with us that night. In fact, the only one who was warned off was Emerson.”
“Is that right?” Cyrus asked. “Then why have we all been pussyfooting around as if we’d done something wrong?”
“Precisely,” I agreed. “I allowed myself to be influenced by…Never mind. From now on we will behave as if nothing untoward had occurred. If his lordship makes a fuss, it won’t be our fault.”
Emerson had remained silent, pretending not to hear the hints or see the glances directed at him. He slammed his coffee cup into the saucer.
“I am going to the West Valley,” he announced. “To work. There is an interesting area north of WV 25. I intend to have the crew excavate down to bedrock.”
“Good luck,” said Cyrus.
“Bah,” said Emerson.
He stamped out. With a little cluck of disapproval, Fatima took the cracked cup and broken saucer away.
For the benefit of ignorant Readers I should perhaps explain that the system of numbering tombs in the Valleys had begun in the 1820s. Since then other tombs had been added in the order of discovery. Those in the main East Valley were distinguished by the initials KV, those in the main West Valley as WV. There were only four of the latter, and my distinguished spouse had always suspected other entrances were hidden in the rugged cliffs that enclosed the Valley.
Selim was in the stable, under the motorcar. Hearing our approach, he slid out, modestly