“Seen what three times?” Sir Julian demanded. “Will someone tell me what’s going on?”
Martin looked apologetically at him. “Forgive me, sir. All I can tell you about this picture is that there is another version of it among the antiquities we commandeered in Egypt. When I first saw it, I was quite sure there was no cat in the scene, but when I looked a second time, there it was.”
Tansy added her contribution. “And I first saw the scene on the wall at the temple where we took refuge. When we left, I looked back at it, and was quite convinced the cat had vanished.”
Hermione looked at her in surprise, for this was the first she had heard of it. Sir Julian was equally surprised, and yet, perhaps not. He gave Tansy and Martin a slightly rueful smile. “Well, to be truthful with you, I too have experienced something odd. You see, I am ashamed to admit that I, er, borrowed a papyrus from the British Museum, because it reminded me so of a similar papyrus here at Chelworth. It proved to be so similar as to be another piece of the
same
papyrus.”
Tansy and Martin gazed at him, then Tansy asked, “Which one is this? Yours, or the one from the museum?”
“Ah, well that is the strange thing. What you have there is
both
fragments. They have, well, joined themselves together somehow.” He spread his hands, not knowing quite what to say next.
There was utter silence; then Amanda gave a scornful sigh. “Oh, how very silly! Such things simply do not happen.”
Sir Julian shifted uncomfortably, for truth to tell he felt a little foolish for having confided such a matter. Amanda was right; two pieces of ancient papyrus
couldn’t
fuse into one. Yet the single papyrus now before them was proof positive that the impossible had become very possible indeed. And taken together with vanishing and materializing cats…. Oh, he didn’t know what to think.
Hermione was quite prepared to believe it all, having developed a healthy respect for the mysteries of the past. She was disappointed not to have a tale of her own to add. “Well, I fear I have nothing out of the ordinary to report. Mayhap more than a leaning to the psychic is required, mayhap a belief in it.”
Amanda’s irritation grew. “For goodness’ sake, how ridiculous you all sound. None of the things you say can possibly have happened, so I think you are all letting your imaginations run away with you.”
Sir Julian shrugged. “Maybe you are right. Who can say?”
I
can,
Tansy thought, for she was in no doubt that these strange things were happening. If only she knew
why!
Sir Julian stroked his chin. “It is all most mystifying. So there is another version of the scene among the antiquities, eh?”
“Yes,” Tansy said.
Hermione shivered. “Dear me, I daresay I’m being foolish, but although I may not be psychic, I nevertheless feel something untoward is going on.”
Sir Julian smiled at her. “I tell you, dear lady, I believe Egypt was once a civilization more advanced than Greece or Rome, which it undoubtedly preceded by many centuries. I do not find it hard to imagine they had powers then that we have forgotten now. After all, we in England have stories of fairies and giants, but can we be sure they are simply stories? Who is to say that such things did not once exist? Maybe our fairy tales have some basis in fact, and merely
seem
fanciful to us in this modern age.”
Amanda was more irritated than ever. “Soon you will be telling me that Ali Baba is centuries old, when we
all
know he was created for the pantomimes at Astley’s!”
Everyone endeavored not to look at one another, but no one corrected her about Ali Baba’s far more ancient antecedents. An invention for Astley’s he most certainly was not! The wind stirred outside, and a draft drew down the chimney, making the flames flare for a moment. The brighter light glanced around the room, and Hermione happened to be looking at the statue of Isis that stood beside the mantel. It was the first time she had really noticed it, and now she straightened with great interest. “Good heavens, it’s one of those!” she said.
“One of what?” Sir Julian turned. “Isis, do you mean?”
“Yes. My late husband showed me….” She caught up the skirts of her gray velour gown and went closer to the statue. Before Sir Julian realized what she was doing, she reached up to its headdress and pressed down on the scarab that was carved there. A little flap swung down, revealing a cavity behind, in which lay some folded sheets of paper.
Amanda hurried to join her. “Oh, something really exciting at last! Is it a map to buried treasure?” she cried, and she grabbed the papers to see what they were. It was unforgivably rude, but Amanda was never one to observe the niceties of good manners.
Sir Julian spoke sharply. “No! Please be so good as to replace it immediately, Amanda!”
“But it’s only an old letter from—”
“Enough! It may only be an old letter, madam, but it’s
my
old letter! A private matter that is no business of yours, so put it back this instant!”
She flinched at his anger, and hastily shoved it back into the statue. An embarrassed hush fell on the room as Hermione, mortified at having exposed the secret in the first place, quickly closed the flap, turned the scarab, and stepped away from the statue as if she feared it would point an accusing finger at her.
Sir Julian overcame his anger, then summoned an apologetic smile. “I must ask you all to forgive me, but the letter happens to be precious to me.”
Amanda tossed her head and went back to the bookcase she had been examining before. Hermione was still too embarrassed to meet anyone’s eyes, and she quickly went to take a seat on an empty sofa opposite Tansy, who smiled encouragingly at her.
Sir Julian put the papyrus away and came to join them, being careful to sit with Hermione, by way of showing her he was not upset with her. She stole a shy glance at him, found his upon her already, and looked quickly away again. But the awkwardness did not last long, for they both had too much in common and far too much to talk about.
Amanda sighed loudly as she sauntered to the next bookcase. Her sequined gown glittered in the combination of candles and firelight, and Tansy’s attention was drawn to her. There was definitely something different about her tonight, something reminiscent of an occasion in their childhood when Amanda had been the first to find out that Tansy’s mother was ill and would not get better. Tansy could hear her childish, taunting voice even now.
I
know something you don’t know. I know something you don’t know
…. Amanda had that look about her again tonight.
Martin watched Amanda too, and he shared Tansy’s suspicions. Something was afoot, and he did not think it boded well for anyone. His hand crept up to rest over Tansy’s once more, and this time her fingers curled into his, warm, gentle, and more beloved to him than he had quite realized.
The handclasp between Tansy and Martin did not escape Amanda’s eagle eye. Scarcely able to credit that he could show such favor toward the Church Mouse, Amanda was immediately stirred with a malignant urge to spoil things if she could. So she went to the decanter of sherry, poured a glass, and took it to Martin, approaching him in such a way that Tansy was forced to release his hand and step aside. Amanda promptly inserted herself neatly in the resulting gap, then turned her back on Tansy as she pressed the glass upon Martin. “I think it most splendid of you to come down like this, Lieutenant, and I for one do not wish you to scurry away again when we go in to dine.”
He summoned a slight laugh. “I do not think I am about to scurry anywhere, Miss Richardson. A painful shuffle is about all I can manage at the moment.”
“Well, however you move from A to B, sir, I must beg you to stay down here with us. I look to you to rescue me again from the horrors of Ancient Egypt, for I vow that so far tonight the conversation here has more resembled the market chatter in Cairo or Alexandria than a country house in England!”
Sir Julian raised an eyebrow at her. “Come now, Amanda, I do not think we have been
that
bad.”
Tansy went to sit down on a nearby chair, where she was able to feast her eyes on Martin. She drank in the soft shadows cast by his dark lashes, and admired the curve of his lips, lips she had now kissed twice. Her heart almost turned over with love.
Please don’t let me be misunderstanding this now. Please don’t let it be a lonely fantasy
….
Amanda was replying to Sir Julian. “Oh, yes, your conversation has indeed been that bad,” she said, fussing over Martin like a nurse with a small child. “I am not in the least bit interested in old pieces of stone or bits of horrid papyrus, yet that is all you and Mrs. Entwhistle have talked about. I think I will scream if you continue in the same vein when we go in to dinner.”
Sir Julian held up his hands in mock submission. “Very well, Amanda, we promise not to utter the word
Egypt
at the table.”
“I trust instead that you will tell us all about London. Didn’t you say earlier that you’d been there recently?”
“Er, yes, I believe I did.” Sir Julian didn’t see the trap yawning before him.
“Did you encounter Lord Sanderby while you were there? Oh, you must have done, for how could you not? Do tell me all about him, Uncle.” Amanda was curious to know what he would say. After all, he had been most sparing with the facts so far!
Sir Julian did not wish to speak of Randal Fenworth, but Amanda pressed again until at last he decided to be frank. “My dear, you already know that I do not like Sanderby in the least, so I think it would be wiser if we left the subject alone, don’t you? I wish to enjoy my dinner, not suffer indigestion because of him.”
There was an awkward silence; then Amanda’s chin came up resentfully. “I don’t think that is very amusing, Uncle!”
“Nor is it meant to be. I’m sorry, my dear, but since you insist upon speaking of Lord Sanderby, you leave me no option but to be frank with you. In my opinion he is a scoundrel of the first water, and I can hardly bring myself to be civil about him, let alone discuss him amicably over dinner. You are my niece, so I feel a responsibility toward you, which is why I have to advise you—again—to withdraw from this match while you can.”
The others remained awkwardly silent, for there was really nothing any of them could say or do. Hermione kept her eyes downcast, and Martin studied the wall opposite. Tansy just fidgeted. Amanda, however, was ready to argue. “Why do you
really
offer such advice, Uncle? Can’t you bear to think I will enjoy a greater status in society than you?”
Martin squirmed, wishing he’d remained in his room after all. Tansy and Hermione were shocked by what Amanda said. “Amanda!” they both cried together.
She regretted nothing. “Oh, keep out of it, for you two are nobodies anyway!” She didn’t take her eyes from Sir Julian. “My Lord Sanderby didn’t fall out with you over your horrid Egyptian things, his father did, so why are you so venomous about him? I demand you tell me!”
“You will demand
nothing,
miss!” Sir Julian replied sharply.
Amanda didn’t even flinch. “I don’t care what you think about the earl. I’m going to marry him anyway! And if you think I will have anything to do with you afterward, you are very much mistaken! When I am Countess of Sanderby, I will be far too grand a lady to bother with a silly old antiquarian who is the laughingstock of London!”
A nerve twitched at Sir Julian’s temple. “I will forgive you for this outburst because I do not doubt that you are very tired after your demanding voyage, but if you speak to me like this again, I will expel you from Chelworth and leave you to manage as best you will,” he said quietly.
Amanda stared at him. Her expression was still truculent, and for a moment it seemed she would continue to defy and insult him, but to everyone’s relief she fell silent. Hermione found her tongue and changed the subject; then Martin injected a note of humor into the proceedings, and the atmosphere lightened perceptibly. The brief altercation was forgotten—but not by Amanda, who never forgot an insult, real or imagined.
The new topic Hermione raised was cats, which, of course, was something else in which Amanda was completely disinterested. As Sir Julian, Tansy, and the chaperone discussed the merits of their favorite creatures, Amanda leaned down close to Martin. “Aren’t they all too boring for words?”
He cleared his throat slightly and didn’t reply, so she tried a different tack. “It truly is delightful to have you here like this,” she whispered, giving him the full benefit of her most alluring expression as she set about driving the Church Mouse completely from his mind.
“I have never seen myself as delightful company, so I think you are far too kind, Miss Richardson,” Martin replied.
“Amanda, please,” she corrected. “After all, I sat with you every day on the voyage, and you called me by my first name then.”
“Did I? I don’t recall.”
“You are trying to spare my blushes, I know. But the truth is that I feel far more for you than I should; indeed, I am in danger of forgetting which man I am soon to marry.” She was confident of playing him like a fish.
Martin looked up at her and spoke in a low voice only she could hear. “Miss Richardson, what I did when at death’s door I cannot really comment on, but now that I am on the way to recovery, I can assure you that I have no desire whatsoever to address you by your first name,” he said. “In fact, I have no desire for you at all, having overheard far more of your shrewish tongue than you think. I find it very hard indeed to believe that you would
ever
forget that you are to marry Lord Sanderby, because gaining a title is clearly the be-all and end-all of your shallow existence. So pray do not try to charm me, for it will not work. I cannot be impressed by a woman I consider to be despicable in every way. Your cousin puts you completely in the shade, and I would rather spent one minute with her than a thousand with you.”
Amanda recoiled as if he had stuck her with a pin, not only because it was the first time a man on whom she had set her sights had rejected her, but because he had been aware of some of the things she’d said to Tansy. Conflicting emotions battled on her face so that she almost grimaced with the effort of controlling them. Jealousy swung through her like an unstoppable pendulum. How dared he prefer Tansy! How dared Tansy win him! With a superhuman effort, she gathered in her rage and turned suddenly to Sir Julian. “I…I fear I feel a little unwell. Another headache….”