Four
E llie leaned back in her chair as three ladies from Lady Sabita’s household staff cleared the table and set out little dishes of sweetened fennel seeds. As the light overhead fell into dusk, the courtyard around her warmed with lamplight.
“Mr. Forster-Mowbray is such a nice young man,” Sabita said with a significant look at her daughter.
Constance had just thrown a pinch of candied seeds into her mouth. She spoke through them in an aggrieved tone. “ Mother! ”
“No, Jhia—you mustn’t dismiss this one out of hand like all the others, especially now that we are here in Egypt,” Sabita retorted. “There are not so many eligible gentlemen here as there are in London, and I do not think that you have forgotten our little talk about the importance of putting some thought into settling down —now have you?”
Constance’s mouth clamped shut at her mother’s words. The lack of response was so uncharacteristic, it left Ellie arching her eyebrows with surprise.
Across the table, Kumari Padma’s expression was serenely unreadable—but there was a keen, careful glint in her eyes as she watched her daughter and granddaughter.
“He has a very nice family,” Sabita continued in a more reasonable tone. “Very respectable, and none of the ladies here speak of him spending too much on the horses or—” She cast an awkward look over at Ellie. “Frequenting less reputable establishments.”
Ellie figured that ‘less reputable establishments’ was Lady Sabita’s polite way of referencing Cairo’s brothels. That Julian Forster-Mowbray didn’t utilize them or engage in an inveterate degree of gambling seemed a low bar for considering him a prospective son-in-law.
A door closed firmly from the direction of the entry. Heavy footsteps thudded along the balcony that lined the nearest wing of the house. Ellie looked up to see Adam Bates stalking past the open spaces between the meshrabiyeh screens, a snippet of his muttered monologue catching her ear.
“…dunno how a guy’s supposed to find a damned fountain when he needs one…” he grumbled before disappearing around the corner.
Another impatiently closing door punctuated his departure.
The three other women at the table stared up in the direction of Adam’s irritable parade. Lady Sabita was the first to recover. “All that I am saying is that you should not dismiss Mr. Forster-Mowbray out of hand.”
“Whatever would I do that for?” Constance’s words seemed casual, but Ellie could hear a note of steel running through them.
“Why indeed?” Padma fixed a thoughtful, diamond-sharp look on her granddaughter.
Constance paled a little. Ellie couldn’t entirely blame her for it. The silver-haired, jewel-draped princess at the table was not a force to be trifled with—and something in the kumari’s tone had held a thrill of danger.
“Now why don’t you show Ellie Jhia to her room?” Padma continued smoothly. “I am sure that she must be tired. She has had a very long journey to get to us.”
Padma punctuated her suggestion by shifting that dangerously astute look to Ellie—leaving her with the uncomfortable notion that somehow Constance’s grandmother knew exactly how long her journey had really been.
“Oh yes, Aai.” Constance hurriedly rose from her seat and hooked her arm through Ellie’s elbow, half-hauling her to her feet. “I’m sure she’s absolutely bushed. We’ll get you settled right in, won’t we?” She steered Ellie forcefully toward the stairs to the balcony. “Goodnight, Mum! Shubha ratri, Aai!”
Constance more or less shoved Ellie into the stairwell to the upper floors.
“I really am rather tired,” Ellie offered hopefully as Constance propelled her up the steps.
“Oh no, you don’t,” Constance retorted. “You’re not going anywhere until I’m finished with you.”
“I’m sure that I have no idea what you mean,” Ellie protested a little desperately as Constance wheeled her past the opening to the floor with the guest rooms and compelled her upward.
“Yes, you bloody well do,” Constance returned. “Ah! Here we are.”
They popped through a doorway onto the flat rooftop of the house, which was furnished much like one of the sitting rooms below. Long benches thickly covered in colorful cushions lined a recess set into the floor. Intricately carved meshrabiyeh screens framed the space, topped by wooden awnings that granted it privacy from any peering eyes from the neighboring buildings. Potted palms, night-blooming jasmine, and even a lemon tree, all warmed by the glow of the scattered glass lanterns, gave the space a lush atmosphere.
Over it all hung the enormous, dusk-streaked sky. The sun had dipped below the horizon in the west, painting the cloudless expanse overhead in hues of rich purple and fuchsia.
From this high perch, Ellie could see the needles of the minarets and the great dome of a nearby mosque. Further on, glimpses of the dark ribbon of the Nile were just visible between the buildings. She took it all in as the warm night breeze danced over her skin, soft as a caress.
A speckled tortoiseshell tabby slept comfortably on the cushions. Constance tossed herself down beside it and reclined there like a tiny, dangerous goddess.
“Is that your cat?” Ellie asked, stalling for time.
“No.” Constance gave the animal a cozy scratch. “This is Egypt. There are cats everywhere. And now you are going to tell me exactly what you have been up to.”
“Well,” Ellie said a little nervously, “since we last spoke, I have discovered the remnants of a mythical city, come up against the most dastardly cabal of villains—”
“Not that,” Constance cut in. “I want to know about you and Mr. Bates.”
Ellie bristled. “How is my connection to a man more important than the discovery of a secret civilization that completely upends our understanding of the Mesoamerican world?”
“You know full well why,” Constance retorted. “Now spill.”
The cat blinked at Ellie unsympathetically. She sensed the mouth of an inevitable trap closing over her.
“I haven’t the foggiest idea where to begin,” she protested weakly.
“Try the beginning, then,” Constance replied impatiently.
“I met Mr. Bates in British Honduras, where after a few… less than fortuitous encounters, he was kind enough to agree to serve as my guide to the interior of the country. In that capacity, we engaged in a somewhat precipitous expedition to the Cayo District, which is the area of the colony least cataloged by modern survey—”
“Have you kissed him?” Constance demanded.
“What?” Ellie’s cheeks flushed. “What would make you think… How is that the most important…”
“That’s a yes, then,” Constance declared with a wicked note of triumph. “Have you done anything more than kissing?”
“I haven’t even admitted to kissing!”
“You didn’t have to.” Constance made an airy wave. “It was clearly implied. But has he actually made love to you yet?”
“ Constance Tyrrell! ” Ellie retorted in scandalized tones.
“Don’t act like I’d judge you for it,” Constance returned breezily. “I’ve been considering taking a lover myself.”
“You— what? ” Ellie burst out, forgetting her own embarrassment.
Constance flipped over onto her back, the tabby moving irritably and unhurriedly out of her way. Her hand flashed out, unerringly plucking a date from a platter that had been left out on the little table nearby. “It’s hardly unreasonable. You see, Mum and Bapa have begun to insist that, as I am approaching the age of twenty-four, I must more seriously consider the matter of marriage. In fact, if I have not agreed to a choice of husband by my next birthday, they say there must be… consequences. ”
She contemplated the date in her hand as though the plump, sweet fruit were a jewel she was thinking of purchasing.
“Consequences?” Ellie echoed. “What does that mean, exactly?”
“Well, of course they can’t technically marry me off against my will,” Constance replied. “But if they were to lock me up inside until I relented, I am sure I’d go mad and take the next man who came knocking simply to escape, even if he was some dried up old buzzard.” Constance paused, considering. “Perhaps I should pick a dried up old buzzard. Then I might outlive him and enjoy myself in the full bloom of young widowhood. I have always thought I would be best suited to a life of independent adventure. It is not as though I haven’t the money for it, and I feel certain that traveling the globe while engaging in a series of wild and temporary affaires du coeur would keep me quite content with my lot.” She frowned. “Though that plan would be ruined if my elderly husband turned out to have unusually robust health and live to a hundred.”
“I suspect an old buzzard might prove more trouble than he was worth, even if he did turn out to be fortuitously short-lived,” Ellie offered. “But what does your Aai have to say about all this?”
Sir Robert and Lady Sabita were both generally kind-hearted people whom Ellie knew lacked any real gift for torment, however much they might be driven to extreme measures out of concern for their daughter’s well-being. Constance’s grandmother, on the other hand, was a five-foot force to be reckoned with. When Maharajkumari Padma Devi chose a battle, she won it—without exception.
“So far, she has supported my determination not to settle for a man I do not think fully suits me,” Constance replied. “Aai has always professed the belief that a lady ought to know herself first before she chooses a partner… but lately she has dropped a hint or two that perhaps I am taking longer about the matter than I ought to be.”
Constance’s breezy expression dropped, replaced by a flash of fear.
“If Aai decides that I have delayed for too long, there will be no getting around it,” Constance admitted. “She is fully capable of devising the most dire consequences for me… and that is without even considering those thirty-nine favors I owe her.”
Ellie was familiar with Padma’s policy of counting the incidents in which she intervened to save Constance from trouble or help her get away with something she should not have been doing as ‘favors.’ Constance had been accumulating them for years now, with Padma calling in only a handful over that time.
But when the favors were called in, there could be no refusing them—not least because Padma now had a veritable pile of dirt on Constance’s past adventures… and Ellie had no doubt that Constance’s grandmother knew exactly how to use it.
“Thirty-nine!” Ellie repeated, aghast. The number sounded like a curse.
“Indeed,” Constance confirmed direly. “And so, if she comes to agree that I have taken too long to choose, I am frankly terrified to think of what it will mean for me. Ugh!” She threw her hands out, sprawling across the cushions. “Not one of them is capable of conceiving that I might live a perfectly full and happy life without the burden of a husband!”
“I should like to see how long they continued to hold that opinion when faced with the countless women subjected to confinement, neglect, or outright abuse on the part of their spouses, without any viable legal recourse to escape it!” Ellie shot back. “Never mind the others who are forced to submit themselves to a man they hardly know because the sole alternatives available to them—”
“—are impoverishment or prostitution,” Constance recited automatically with a wave of her hand. “Yes, yes. Do give me some credit, Ellie. I am hardly going to ally myself with a fellow who’d try to lock me in a cellar. And besides, even if he did, I’d just pick the lock. I have been continuing to refine my skills in that department.” She popped a date into her mouth, chewing it enthusiastically. “It’s not as though I’m opposed to the very notion of marriage—though of course I have nothing but respect for your own principled objections to it as an institution. I would be glad enough to marry if I could find someone who didn’t bore me to tears. It’s only that so many of these gentlemen are completely lacking in imagination! They might shower me with flattery and admiration for a little while, but then they will wander off to their clubs without sparing a thought as to how I am supposed to retain my sanity when I have only a bit of shopping and charity work to keep me entertained.”
Constance plucked out her hairpins and sat up forcefully, her black curls tumbling around her shoulders. “I want a man with a healthy spark of adventure… but who also isn’t an obvious cad. You wouldn’t think that is such a hard thing to find—but trust me, I have looked.”
“Don’t tell me that Sir Robert and Lady Sabita are considering Mr. Forster-Mowbray as a potential match for you.” Ellie grimaced with distaste.
“Oh, Julian is not so bad as some of them,” Constance replied tiredly. “I might even be tempted to accept him if my circumstances were slightly more desperate.”
“You can’t possibly mean that!” Ellie protested as she recalled their obliviously self-important dinner companion.
“At least his presence here in Egypt shows that he’s amenable to travel,” Constance countered. “But you needn’t worry. I won’t marry Julian, or anyone else for that matter—not until I have first seized a little romantic experience for myself.”
“Tell me we aren’t back to that notion of taking a lover again,” Ellie burst out with a thrill of alarm.
“We never left it!” Constance exclaimed. “That was the point! My parents insist that I must marry—but I insist that I will not have my amorous horizons so precipitously constrained. Men are outright encouraged to do as much, after all. Who hasn’t heard young gentlemen being exhorted to sow their wild oats before settling down? If they are not held the same standard, why should we women be?”
“Men are not at risk of becoming ruined and socially outcast if they take lovers,” Ellie pointed out. “And what about pregnancy?”
“There are ways to avoid that,” Constance asserted with a dismissive wave of her hand.
Ellie paused. “And… what might those be?” she asked with careful nonchalance.
“I am still gathering information about the best options.” Constance picked up another date. “But I do know that there are a number of physical activities one might engage in that do not entail the risk of conception. Bapa has a very interesting book on the topic hidden in the bottom of his wardrobe that he does not think I know about. It is in Urdu, of course, but the illustrations are most… illustrative.” She popped the date into her mouth. “I should be happy to lend it to you if you like.”
With effort, Ellie worked to keep her expression bland.
“I might possibly be interested in examining it,” she replied carefully, “for historical and cultural reasons.”
Constance fixed Ellie with a dangerously astute look. “You are now going to tell me exactly what you have been getting up to with Mr. Bates.”
“I don’t think you want to know all that we’ve been getting up to,” Ellie blurted out in wild protest.
“Yes,” Constance countered flatly. “I most certainly do.”
Ellie’s cheeks burned. “Well, I am not going to tell you all of it. Suffice to say that Mr. Bates and I… That we have… What I mean to say is…” She raised a hand to her temple, where she felt the start of a headache coming on. “It’s complicated. ”
“Has he asked you to marry him?” Constance pressed curiously.
“Of course, he asked ,” Ellie admitted, and then quickly caught herself. “But only because he was trying to do the honorable thing.”
Constance’s eyes widened.
“After he learned that I was not in fact a widow!” Ellie continued hurriedly. “Because we had been traveling in the wilderness together.”
“And how firmly is he insisting on it now that you’ve…” Constance let her voice trail off expectantly.
Ellie pointedly refused to take up her bait. “The matter has not come up in recent weeks,” she primly returned.
“Might he have dropped the subject after you lectured him about how marriage is built on the exploitation of women and enforced by their complete exclusion from any other legitimate means of self-support?” Constance offered dryly.
Ellie drew in a breath, striving to keep her response reasonable. “I may have elaborated somewhat on the injustice of matrimony as a legal and social institution. But why should we be talking of marriage at all? We have only known each other for a matter of weeks! To throw ourselves into a permanent legal arrangement after such a short acquaintance would be an act of sheer madness!”
Constance shrugged. “People do it.”
“That is hardly an endorsement.”
Constance fixed Ellie with a canny stare. “Just out of curiosity, what exactly are you planning to do with yourself after you leave Egypt?”
“Leave Egypt?” Ellie echoed helplessly.
“You have lost your job. Your family think you are on a very extended holiday in Bournemouth—but I should imagine after two months they might be starting to worry that you’ve run off to join a carnival,” Constance noted wryly. “So what is your plan, exactly? Unless you intend to stay here in Cairo with me indefinitely.”
Ellie stiffened. “I am not interested in living on anyone’s charity.”
“It’s not charity if it’s among friends, Eleanora,” Constance reminded her tiredly.
Ellie lifted her chin. “When I have finished what I need to do here, I will return to England and seek other employment.”
“What sort of employment?” Constance lounged back against the colorful pillows.
Ellie’s shoulders fell. “The only employment available to a university-educated woman without a reference is most likely to be… teaching. ”
She ground out the word like a curse.
Constance studied her fingernails. “Probably at some backwater school for girls. And you abhor children.”
“I don’t abhor them,” Ellie returned defensively. “I just find them exceptionally tedious and believe they serve as tiny anchors binding a woman further into the virtual slavery that is the reality behind modern marriage—”
“Yes, yes. Tiny anchors,” Constance interrupted quickly. “But tell me, now… where exactly is Mr. Bates in this scenario?”
Ellie opened her mouth to respond… and realized she hadn’t the foggiest idea what to say.
Fear swept over her, numbing her skin despite the soft warmth of the Egyptian evening. Her hands clenched, gripping the sturdy folds of her twill skirt.
“Mr. Bates has taken a leave of absence from his position in British Honduras,” she elaborated carefully. “He can extend it for perhaps another month, but after that he must either return or give up his position. Of course, as he is a man, he has far more options for employment at his disposal,” she grumbled.
“But would he go back to England with you?” Constance pressed, her expression serious.
Ellie closed her eyes as the weight of Constance’s gentle question swept through her.
Would Adam go back to England with her?
She thought of the rich, powerful current of affection she could see in his eyes when he looked at her. The warmth in his voice when he spoke her name.
He hadn’t hesitated for a breath before agreeing to accompany her to Egypt—but that was Egypt, as part of a desperate quest to thwart a pack of villainous thieves. Would he feel the same way about following her to some backwater English village?
Ellie tried to imagine Adam in a place like Netherwallop or Upton Snodsbury—and failed. He was too big and wild to fit into some remote little hamlet. Asking him to confine himself to a place like that felt like an enormous sacrifice.
Constance spoke carefully into the silence where Ellie’s answer should have been. “You know, you wouldn’t necessarily have to teach—or work at all—if the two of you stayed together.”
Ellie latched on to the far more comfortable feeling of indignation that Constance’s suggestion aroused. “I am not interested in making myself a dependent, even upon a man whom I trust entirely not to take undue advantage of the situation! And anyway, such an arrangement would only really make sense within the confines of a marriage.”
“You are forgetting the most obvious alternative,” Constance pressed.
“And what is that?” Ellie returned skeptically.
“Just take him as your lover!”
“ What? ” Ellie squeaked. “I couldn’t possibly!”
“Why not?”
“For all of the reasons we talked about before! Never mind that the gentleman involved would need to agree to it.”
“That is not usually a major obstacle, as I understand it,” Constance declared authoritatively.
“You don’t know Adam,” Ellie pushed back. “I’m afraid that despite all appearances, he is desperately honorable. He was already insisting on telling Neil about our travels together, and that was before we’d even—”
Ellie caught herself and bit off the rest.
Constance’s eyes glittered with avid interest as she plucked another date from the dish. “Before you’d even…” she prompted.
“It isn’t important,” Ellie dismissed.
Constance tossed the date at her.
“What was that for!” Ellie exclaimed.
“You know perfectly well,” Constance returned easily, then frowned. “It must be nearly a decade since I’ve seen your brother, but I can’t imagine Stuffy has changed that much. Finding out you’ve been running about with his best friend will go over about as well as that time we tied all his socks into a rope for our makeshift hot air balloon.”
“Neil was rather upset about that one,” Ellie recalled—and then straightened. “But it’s no matter, because I have been giving the situation a great deal of thought, and there is a perfectly logical solution to the problem of my connection to Mr. Bates—one that even Neil could not possibly object to. And that is for us to be…”
“Yes?” Constance prompted, leaning closer.
“Colleagues,” Ellie finished.
“ Colleagues? ” Constance echoed in tones of disbelief. “You mean like a pair of solicitors skipping out for the occasional luncheon?”
“I mean devoted companions in scholarship and intellectual inquiry!” Ellie countered. “Really, when I gave it a bit more thought, it seems the perfect term to describe my relationship with Mr. Bates. The Latin word ‘collega’ suggests being deputized together in the service of a greater cause. It could be almost like a marriage, only without all of that… erm…”
“Physical intercourse?” Constance offered mercilessly.
Ellie’s cheeks flushed. “Connie!” She drew in a breath, recovering herself. “I know that such an arrangement between a gentleman and a lady is not strictly the ‘done’ thing, but if it was clear to all the gossips that our connection was purely one of mutual respect and admiration…”
Constance frowned. “Are you saying you’re not interested in physical intercourse with Mr. Bates?”
Ellie’s cheeks heated even further. “That would not be… strictly accurate to say,” she replied carefully. “But I am quite capable of controlling myself! It is hardly the most important aspect of a relationship, even a very close one! It is the meeting of minds that matters—the intellectual sympathy and shared curiosity of two scholars out to discover the true inner workings of the world and its history!”
“Right,” Constance agreed skeptically. “And how would Mr. Bates feel about following you to England to be part of this meeting of intellectual minds?”
Ellie deflated. “I… am not entirely sure.”
“Well, perhaps you ought to ask him about it.” Constance dropped back onto the cushions and reached for another date.
Constance’s entirely reasonable suggestion sparked a roiling, uncomfortable feeling in Ellie’s chest.
“At any rate, it sounds as though you might have more immediate concerns,” Constance continued. “What is this terribly urgent business at your brother’s excavation in Saqqara? And are you certain it can’t wait for another day or two? I should love to show you more of Cairo. We might even make an excursion to the bazaar! There is a wonderful lane completely lined with booksellers that I am certain you would happily get lost in.”
Ellie gratefully accepted the change in the subject. She thought longingly of how very much she would enjoy browsing through countless stalls of jumbled books in the shadow of an ancient mosque.
“I am afraid the bazaar will have to wait,” she asserted with a note of regret. “Do you recall our mutual acquaintance, Mr. Jacobs?”
“How could I forget?” Constance returned. “You led him on quite the merry chase back in London. Don’t tell me that he’s turned back up?”
“In fact, he followed me to British Honduras, and Mr. Bates and I had quite a bit of trouble with him while we were there. I have reason to believe that he is now on his way to Egypt—if he isn’t here already—and that he has an interest in Neil’s excavation.”
“That is serious,” Constance agreed. “But what could Mr. Jacobs possibly want with your brother’s dig?”
“I suspect Jacobs, or whomever it is that he works for, is using the dig at Saqqara as a means of pursuing a very important and dangerous artifact.”
Constance frowned. “How can an artifact be dangerous?”
Ellie reached into the pocket of her skirt and removed a battered tin cigar tube. The paper label, which read The Belize Tobacco Company , was faded with age.
“Have you taken up smoking, Ellie?” Constance eyed the tube skeptically.
Ellie didn’t reply. Instead, she opened the lid and slid the contents of the tube into her palm.
“Is that a finger bone?” Constance asked with gruesome delight, scooting closer.
“It’s from a wing, actually,” Ellie corrected her. “It is inscribed with Glagolitic characters—an early Slavic script. I am afraid I haven’t yet been able to translate it. There is some resemblance to modern Cyrillic but…”
“Why are you showing me the bird bone, Eleanora?” Constance cut in.
Ellie gave up her scholarly explanation with a sigh. “Because it does this.”
She made a neat snap of her wrist—a maneuver she had discovered after days of frustrated experimentation inside her cabin on the boat from the Caribbean. The movement was quicker and certainly more elegant than the vigorous shaking that the previous owner of the bone had subjected it to.
The bone—the firebird arcanum —flared to life, spilling a fierce, moonlike illumination out across the rooftop. Rays of it pierced through the delicate filigree of the meshrabiyeh screens.
“Oh, but this is marvelous! ” Constance said wonderingly.
“The object—the arcanum —that Mr. Jacobs’ masters are seeking here in Egypt is far more powerful,” Ellie pressed. “Should it fall into their hands, the consequences for the world could be devastating. I cannot allow that to happen!”
Constance met Ellie’s gaze across the ferocious glare of the bone, her eyes bright with determination. “Then we shall simply have to stop them.”
The words filled Ellie with a surprising sense of relief. She knew that she shouldn’t feel that way about the notion of her friend being exposed to the threat of Mr. Jacobs—but the truth was, the prospect of facing him alone, or even with only Adam at her side, had filled Ellie with dread.
She would need help if she was to succeed at this—and Constance was a formidable ally.
But even as she soaked up that mix of both relief and worry, Ellie’s thoughts pulled back to the tangled puzzle of her relationship with Adam Bates. She didn’t realize that she had gone quiet until Constance slipped an arm around her shoulder, giving her a squeeze.
“It will all work out, you know,” she said confidently.
“How?” Ellie demanded as the firebird bone continued to blaze, bright and silent, in her hand.
“I haven’t the foggiest idea,” Constance replied easily. “But it will. You’ll see.”
Ellie tried to let herself be reassured—but still felt as though the future loomed with peril like the rising cloud of a storm.