Chapter Five

As I walked out of the driveway from the Howards’ elegant house in the most exclusive expatriate district of Cairo, I glanced at the fob-watch pinned to my blouse and noticed with satisfaction that it was already ten past four. That was when the apricot flew past me, just touching the edge of my sleeve and leaving an orange stain. I looked up and saw the branches in the tree behind the wall tremble slightly. There was a muffled sound of laughter and the thump of boots colliding with the ground.

I adjusted my straw boater, deciding it was beneath my dignity to acknowledge that one of my reluctant pupils had just got his own back on me with his catapult. Even so, I couldn’t help wishing the little brat had chosen another day to practise his aim. This was my best Russian blouse with blue ribbons threaded through the waistband and collar. Just as I was wondering whether I would be able to slip upstairs without being seen to change it, a carriage drew up.

“Kate, get in and let me drive you home,” said Bella.

I hesitated.

“Come on. You surely don’t want to walk home in this heat.”

I sighed. It was hot still and I didn’t relish the journey back. “All right. But tell the driver to go slowly. I don’t want to be back too early.”

“Why on earth not? I thought your museum board people were coming today?”

“Exactly. That’s why I don’t want to be there too early. I want them to know how much extra work I have to do since they stopped sending us any money.”

“Oh, I see. You want them to feel guilty.”

“I certainly do,” I said as I got up into the carriage beside her. “I don’t see why they should expect us to drop everything and dance to their tune the moment they deign to turn up. They can jolly well wait until I’m ready to see them. What?” I added, noticing the grin on her face.

“You’ve been arguing with your father, haven’t you? I bet those are the exact words you said to him. I can just see it from the look on your face.”

I frowned. Bella knew me too well, which was disconcerting when we’d only been friends for a short while. She had been sent out here in disgrace after ruining her London Season in a spectacular fashion by being caught kissing the wrong man at a society ball.

“What’s that stain on your sleeve?” she asked now, poking my arm and wrinkling her nose in disgust.

“Apricot juice. One of the Howard twins has just been practising with his new catapult.”

“The little beast.”

I shrugged. “They usually throw dried camel dung at me when they think I’m not looking.”

Bella looked at me in horror. “Kate, how can you stand it?”

“I think of it as penance for all the times I was awful to my governesses. The gods are getting their own back on me.”

“Ugh. Camel dung though. Can’t you tell their parents?”

“I could. But they might decide it’s proof that a mere woman isn’t capable of teaching their darling boys and dismiss me. And we need the money.”

Bella sighed. “I wish I could just give you some of mine, but Aunt Augusta grills me about every tiny purchase I make. It’s a pity you’re not a boy. Then you could marry me.”

“Would they let someone like me marry you?” I asked with interest. Bella still had eighteen months to go before attaining her majority, and I knew Lady Faversham was determined she wasn’t going to be allowed to repeat her London faux-pas.

“Oh yes,” said Bella, as she smoothed down the folds of the primrose- yellow teagown she was wearing. “You’re studious and serious and even if you haven’t got any money, you’ve got position and status. And I know Uncle George thinks digging up old tombs is interesting. He asks me sometimes if you talk about your adventures in the Valley. But to be honest, Kate, I don’t want to marry anybody just yet. I want to enjoy my money myself, without having to ask someone else all the time if I can spend it.”

I patted her hand. “Never mind. Eighteen months will soon pass. Here we are,” I added as Bella’s carriage drew up outside the house. “Thank you for bringing me home.”

“Let me come in.”

“What?”

“Let me come in with you. I can tell them how hard you work.”

“That’s a kind thought, Bella, but to be honest, I don’t—”

“Oh, I know I’m young, but so long as you introduce me properly, they’ll listen a bit if only because I might be persuaded to donate some money later on. Please, Kate. Aunt Augusta’s been fussing about the new curtains in the drawing room all day, and I shall go mad if I have to listen to another discussion on the comparative merits of fringed swags and ties over valances with tassels. Besides, I told her we’d arranged an extra lesson this afternoon. Please, Kate.”

She gave me the full force of her most hang-dog expression as she said this. The lesson she was referring to was in conversational French, another of my languages. It was how we had met in the first place. She had waylaid me at a tea party one afternoon soon after arriving here and begged me to give her lessons, flattering me with compliments about how clever people said I was. Afterwards I found out she only wanted the excuse to get away from her formidable aunt for a while, but I never turn down the chance of making a little extra money. Besides, unlike the awful brats I usually taught, Bella was fun, and I looked forward to our two hours a week as much as she did.

“All right,” I said, shrugging. “But don’t blame me if you’re bored. All they’ll do is talk about hieroglyphs and money.”

“Nothing could be more boring than curtains, Kate, believe me,” she replied as she accompanied me into the house.

From the hallway, I could hear voices in the parlour, and in spite of my determination to remain calm, my stomach started to flutter. I took a deep breath and opened the door.

Papa was seated on the most comfortable, least dilapidated sofa, his leg with its ludicrous bandages propped up on a stool and next to him sat Alice. She was exactly as I remembered her from that first day eight years ago, elegant and graceful looking, even in her widow’s weeds, the black crape skirt and high collar only serving to accentuate her fair beauty, her blonde hair drawn up in ringlets around her ears.

“Darling! How lovely to see you,” she said as she stood up and kissed me on the cheeks. “And you look so well. I swear the heat of this country seems to make you bloom.”

I smiled heroically, trying my best to forget that this was the person who had ruined my wonderful romance and to remember instead that she had just lost her husband. Bella told me afterwards I looked like I had sucked on a lemon.

“Alice. It’s lovely to see you too. We were so sorry to hear about Sir Henry.”

Her eyes lost some of their sparkle for a moment. “It was very quick. And he died doing something he loved. I was just telling James he was in the conservatory repotting some orchids when it happened. He’d been so weakened by the last two attacks, but we thought he was getting better. Thank you for your lovely letter, darling.”

“Not at all,” I said stiffly. I was desperate to ask where everyone else was and by everyone I meant Adam, but I didn’t want to sound as though I actually cared and besides, Alice was looking at Bella. I made the necessary introductions, and everyone professed themselves charmed.

“Adam should be here soon,” Alice said. “He had to go back to the hotel to pick up a paper he forgot.”

“Oh. I hope you’re settled in comfortably.” I felt rather proud of how careless I sounded at the mention of Adam’s name.

“Of course, dear. The Winter Palace is always so pleasant. I—oh, here’s Mr. Tillyard,” she said breaking off as a carriage pulled up in front of the window. “He’s our new treasurer. Such a charming, hard-working man. He decided to leave England before us as he had some sites to visit in Giza, and he was only due to arrive in Luxor today. Run outside and help him, would you, darling?” She turned to Papa. “He hardly speaks any Arabic, and the cab drivers take such terrible advantage.”

Papa snorted. He didn’t think much of foreigners to Egypt who didn’t bother to learn at least a few phrases, but he was very fond of Alice. I left the room and hurried into the street, expecting to have to fight off beggars demanding baksheesh as well as haggling with the cab driver over his fare. But by the time I’d reached our guest, he’d already paid the driver and was at the gate.

“Mr. Tillyard? How do you do?” I said, putting my hand out. “I’m Katharine Whitaker. I believe you’re looking for us. Lady Faulkner is inside.”

“Miss Whitaker.”

He took my hand and surprised me by bowing slightly over it, before putting it to his lips. He was a tall, dark-haired man in his mid thirties, rather handsome in a studious kind of way, and there was something vaguely familiar about him, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.

Back inside the parlour Sayeed had just come in with the tea, and I began to serve as Alice introduced our new guest. Papa shook his hand.

“Pleased to meet you, Tillyard. Alice was telling me you were there when she found poor Henry.”

“Sadly yes,” said Mr. Tillyard. “I’d been hoping to discuss the new Persian room we were thinking of opening at the museum. If only I’d been a little sooner, perhaps I could have prevented his passing.”

Alice patted his hand. “I don’t think there was anything anyone could have done, Richard, but you’re kind to say it. Richard has been a blessing to the museum ever since we first appointed him. He works so hard. Always making trips here, even in the heat of the summer.”

Mr. Tillyard bowed slightly as he sat down on one of the less shabby armchairs. “You flatter me unduly, Lady Faulkner.”

“Not at all—” she started to say, but just then we heard the sound of another carriage drawing up outside the house.

“It must be Adam,” said Alice as Bella got up to look.

But when she turned back from the window, there was a wicked grin on her face. “I do believe it’s Mr. Bennett, Kate,” she said happily.

My heart sank. Peter Bennett was the local inspector of the Antiquities Service and as much as I liked him, he had an unfortunate habit of saying the wrong thing at the worst possible moment. This was a dreadful handicap in a job where diplomacy was of paramount importance, and consequently he was not advancing as quickly as might be expected. I felt sorry for him because he was basically good at his job, being diligent, hard-working, and honest. But this afternoon was going to be hard enough as it was. The last thing I needed was to have to keep an eye on Peter in case he offended our guests before they gave us money. I excuse myself and left the parlour. My only hope was to get him to come back later.

“Good afternoon, Miss Whitaker,” he said as I opened the door to the heat of the afternoon. “May I come in?”

“Peter, how lovely to see you,” I began desperately, barring his way. “However, we are rather busy at the moment and—”

“I know. Your sponsors from the Cavendish are here. That’s why I’ve come. It’s imperative that the Service is kept apprised of your latest venture now that real progress is being made.”

“Real progress?” I echoed, somewhat surprised. “Who told you that?”

“Naturally the Service is privy to all sorts of information regarding the current status of each dig,” he said bombastically. Then he relented since it was me and added with a shy smile, “I’m really pleased that you and your father are finally experiencing success, Kate.”

“Thank you, Peter. That’s very kind of you to say so. But could you possibly come back later? We’d really like to speak to them alone first.”

“Um, sorry, Kate. I was given specific orders to see them today. Monsieur Chouan was very insistent.”

I resisted the unladylike urge to curse. Monsieur Chouan was Peter’s immediate superior at the Service. He’d probably got some important people coming to the office too and was using this as an excuse to get Peter out of the way.

“Peter,” I said as emphatically as I could. “We really need the museum to give us more money.”

“I know, Kate. I promise I won’t do or say anything to jeopardise that. Please let me in,” he begged. “It’s jolly uncomfortable out here in the heat.”

I gave it one last go. “Peter, Bella’s here.”

He flushed deeply. Peter has pale gingery hair and the almost lily-white complexion that often goes with that colouring, and he embarrasses easily. And since he has the most enormous crush on Bella, whenever he is in her presence he spends the entire time looking like a huge beetroot and sounding like a stuttering fool. But he took a deep breath, determined not to shirk his duty.

“Be that as it may, I must insist that you allow me to speak to…er…”

Here he began to falter, no doubt thinking about Bella already. I sighed and opened the door, careful not to let too much dust from the street in.

“Very well, Peter,” I said gloomily. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Inside the parlour, I introduced him to Alice and Mr. Tillyard. To be fair, he was fine, if a little stiff, until he turned to Bella.

“—and of course, Miss Wyndham-Brown you’ve already met,” I said, wanting to cover my eyes at the debacle I knew would ensue.

“Oh…um…yes…Miss Wyndh—”

“Mr. Bennett, how lovely to see you again,” Bella said, the evil smile still on her face. “Oh dear, you’ve dropped your hat on the floor. Oh, and now your gloves.” She turned to the others. “Mr. Bennett is always dropping things. I declare I wonder how safe it is sometimes to have him on a dig. Kate, would you allow him to handle any of those old pots and things you find? They are valuable, aren’t they? Although I suppose since they’re all broken up anyway, a few more cracks wouldn’t make that much difference.”

Bella isn’t mean really, but as an heiress, she’s used to the attentions of older, more sophisticated men. The stuttering hopelessness of a gauche twenty-something boy was little more than a game to her, although poor Peter felt it dreadfully when she made fun of him. I glared at her. Meanwhile, Papa was studying Peter, a cynical expression on his face.

“What can I do for you, Bennett?”

Peter turned gratefully to him. “I believe you’ve had some success of late with the site at the Temple of the Nobles, Professor Whitaker. Is this true?”

Papa nodded. “Indeed we have, my boy. And now I suppose, the Service wants to know when we expect to make the big discovery?”

Peter smiled. “Well, you know that the Service has a responsibility to make sure any treasures found are divided fairly between finder and the people of Egypt. These days it’s not such an easy task to perform.”

He was referring to the rule that any treasure found must be divided equally between the excavators and the authorities. It was a rule which was difficult enough to enforce at the best of time, but since the appearance of Il Namus and his shady dealings on the thriving black market of antiquities, it was proving almost impossible to police recently. Most of the local inspectors suspected that the archaeologists and other amateur Egyptologists who came here to dig were spiriting their finds away before the Service was properly informed, but they couldn’t be everywhere at once and they had to rely on the integrity of the museums who sponsored or bought the finds to help them. Unfortunately, not all museums felt they had a duty to honour this rule.

“You’ve got a hard job, Bennett,” said Mr. Tillyard sympathetically. “I doubt these rogues who skulk about in the bazaars have any idea what sacrilege they’re performing.”

“Quite, sir. But our task would be much easier if the museums back home and on the Continent and America did not continually buy from them, then profess themselves amazed to hear the items they buy have been illegally obtained.”

I cringed. This was exactly the sort of tactless comment that got Peter into so much trouble, and I could see our sponsorship money flying out of the window. But miraculously Mr. Tillyard just smiled.

“Steady on, old chap. I’m on your side. We’ve been losing out badly to this beggar Namus ourselves recently, haven’t we, Lady Faulkner?”

Alice smiled. “Indeed we have, Richard. The Cavendish has taken quite a few losses in the past year, thanks to the actions of this dreadful man. When you finally manage to identify him, Mr. Bennett, no one will be more pleased than us.”

“And that will be very soon, won’t it, Mr. Bennett?” Bella added, handing him a cup of tea. “Weren’t you telling me the other day that Mr. Bennett was the scourge of all scoundrels in the bazaar, Kate? Oh dear, Mr. Bennett, I do believe you’ve spilled hot tea on your lap.”

“Peter! Are you all right?” I cried, seeing his face turn purple with pain at the upended the cup in his lap.

“No, no, it’s fine,” he gasped, dabbing frantically at the hot liquid with the towel I passed him.

“What a shame, Mr. Bennett.” Bella was enjoying herself immensely now. I could have shaken her. “Your trousers will be ruined now. I hope they weren’t new.”

Peter turned almost apoplectic at the thought of having a conversation with Bella about his wardrobe, so whilst Alice was quietly handing him more napkins, I took her firmly by the arm.

“Bella, go and fetch Sayeed, would you? And ask him to bring some towels,” I said loudly.

“Of course, Kate.”

“And if you don’t stop being mean to Peter,” I continued softly but with, I hoped, due menace, “I’m packing you straight off back to your aunt and cancelling our lessons.”

Obviously the menace failed, my threats having as much effect on Bella as they did on my other pupils.

“No, you won’t.” She grinned as she said this. “You need the money.”

“Bella—” I began and she sighed.

“Oh very well, if it means that much to you. Who’s this?” she added, hearing a sound from the garden.

I turned too, still with a scowl on my face, and felt the blood rush to my cheeks. Bella told me afterwards I looked positively ferocious, and although I had retaliated, not unreasonably, that it was all her fault, by then it was far too late. For there, walking through the French windows at last, was Adam.

He looked tanned and fit, his hair slightly longer than Mr. Tillyard’s or Peter’s. He was also dressed comfortably in white linen, in contrast to the high, tight collars and black tailcoats that they were both wearing, despite the heat.

“Adam, here you are at last. Where have you been?” said Alice.

“Sorry,” he said, walking across to Papa and handing him a newspaper. “I’d forgotten how difficult it is to get a cab at this time of day. Here you are, Professor. The article on Khaemwaset’s on page thirteen.”

I was aware that Papa and Alice were staring at me rather nervously, clearly worried how I was going to react. I walked back into the room.

“Dr. Ellis,” I said coldly.

“Miss Whitaker. How are you?”

It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him how he thought I was after he had abandoned me a year ago and turned the museum against my father out of spite. But good manners and the fact that we just might get some money out of the board now Alice and Mr. Tillyard were here restrained me.

“Very well thank you, Dr. Ellis. Teaching Latin to nine-year-old boys is immensely rewarding. It’s what I’ve always longed to do rather than be spending time in the Valley with Papa—”

“Kate, darling, I’ve just realised I haven’t told you the wonderful news yet, have I, Alice?”

“No, you must tell her straightaway.”

At any other time I would have been amused at the sight of both Papa and Alice straining to avoid a scene but not today. I scowled as I sat down on the sofa, Bella beside me, both of us having forgotten all about poor Peter and his sodden trousers now.

“Kate, Alice is temporarily the new chairman of the board. Henry left instructions in his will that all his voting rights be given to her, until a new chairman could be elected. That’s how she managed to persuade the board to send a team out. Now we’ll be able to show them everything.”

“Why are you teaching Latin to nine-year-old boys?” asked Adam, frowning.

“Well, ever since your last trip here, which we all enjoyed so—”

“And what’s more, Adam and Alice are going to come out with us to see the site. Isn’t that wonderful?”

“Absolutely super, Papa,” I said. “By the way, will the board be paying the expenses for this trip? Because we are somewhat embarrassed financially at the moment, since we haven’t been paid for the last three months.” I glared at Adam, who still looked confused. “That’s why I’m teaching.”

“Kate, I don’t think this is the time to discuss finances—” Papa began, but before he could say anything else, Mr. Tillyard spoke up.

“Of course all expenses will be met by the board, Miss Whitaker. But what do you mean, you haven’t been paid?”

I turned to Mr. Tillyard, confused. “I mean we have received no money from the museum since June, Mr. Tillyard.”

Mr. Tillyard looked equally perplexed. “This is most irregular. There was no reason for you not to be paid.”

I frowned. This was not the answer I had been expecting. “But I wrote to you many times, Mr. Tillyard. I even telegraphed you once.”

“Indeed. And yet I’ve received no communication from you since July. I must say I was somewhat surprised when your usual reports didn’t turn up.” He took his glasses off and began polishing them. “Lady Faulkner, we really must look into this matter when we return. I have suspected before now that not all mail is getting through to the proper departments.”

“Of course, Richard.” Alice took a delicate sip of tea. “I’m sorry about this, darling. I was so busy after Henry’s passing sorting out all his other affairs. I’ve only recently managed to start spending more time at the museum.”

“I’m sure you’ve been very busy, Alice,” I said, frostily. “But ever since the museum was persuaded Khaemwaset wasn’t a good enough risk, we’ve been forced to rely on our own resources.” I glared at Adam.

“Yes, dear. Henry didn’t—”

“Wait a minute, Alice. Do you think I’m somehow to blame for the museum not supporting you, Kate?”

I laughed nastily. “Why on earth would I think that, Dr. Ellis? Just because we happened to lose all support from the museum the minute you returned home—”

“Kate, dear, do you remember Mr. Tillyard at all?”

Alice spoke so loudly, I couldn’t in courtesy ignore her, although I was tempted to; her cousin wasn’t the sole culprit in this situation. But she was the new chairman of the board, even if it was only a temporary position, and we desperately needed the money, so I looked briefly at Richard Tillyard. He seemed uncomfortable, but then they all did, with the exception of Peter, who was taking advantage of the fact that he was being ignored to try and dry his trousers.

“I’m sorry, I’m afraid I don’t. As I was saying—”

“Oh, that’s right. You were out here in ’97, weren’t you, Tillyard,” Adam said, the confusion now replaced by a worrying grin. “Or was it ’98?”

“That’s very interesting, Mr. Tillyard, but I’m sorry I still don’t recall you. But as I was saying—”

“Let’s see,” said Adam. “Would that have been the mosquito net? Or the glue on the saddle? Or would it have been—”

“The what?”

Suddenly I had a sinking feeling I knew why Mr. Tillyard had seemed faintly familiar. Mr. Tillyard smiled gently as he poured a little more milk into his cup. Outside, a donkey was making its ugly braying noise, protesting at being moved on.

“Dr. Ellis is teasing you I fear, Miss Whitaker. I was your father’s assistant in 1897. I’m not surprised you don’t remember me. I think you would have been about twelve then.”

I groaned. Now I knew why he had been faintly familiar to me. He was a good ten years older, and his hair a little greyer, and he hadn’t worn spectacles when I’d known him, but of course he was one of Papa’s old assistants. I felt myself blushing with shame.

“Of course I remember you, now, Mr. Tillyard. And I can only hope you’ve forgotten me. Or least forgiven me. I was a horrible little girl.”

Mr. Tillyard’s smile grew. “You were delightful, Miss Whitaker. Simply high-spirited.”

“You’re making me hot with shame, Mr. Tillyard.”

“Yes, don’t spare her any blushes, Tillyard. Here’s your chance to get even,” Adam said happily. “After all, it isn’t—”

“Adam, I’ve just realised you haven’t been introduced to Miss Wyndham-Brown,” said Alice desperately. “Miss Wyndham-Brown, this is my cousin, Dr. Adam Ellis.”

“How do you do, Dr. Ellis,” said Bella brightly, holding out a gloved white hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. You and Kate seem to know each other so well.”

I could have cheerfully strangled her, but Adam just grinned. “Very well, Miss Wyndham-Brown. In fact, we—”

“And of course Mr. Bennett,” Alice interrupted again, even more desperately. “This is Mr. Bennett, the local Antiquities Service inspector. Mr. Bennett, my cousin and fellow board member, Dr. Ellis.”

Peter looked up from the piano where he was still quietly brushing at the damp patch on his trousers. “What? Oh, yes. How do you do, Dr. Ellis,” he said, finally giving up with the napkin and coming forward.

“Bennett?” said Adam suspiciously, as they shook hands. “Isn’t that the name of the fellow who you said keeps writing accusing us of selling our finds on the black market, Tillyard?”

“Ah, well, I’m not entirely certain I used the word ‘accused,’ Dr. Ellis,” Mr. Tillyard said.

“Yes, that’s me,” said Peter, ignoring him. He looked at Adam squarely. “I find it too much of a coincidence that so many of your sponsored digs find little or no treasure worth speaking of, but items of the period they have been searching for appear in wealthy collections soon after, Dr. Ellis.”

“Yes, so do I. But that doesn’t mean it’s us that’s embezzling them,” said Adam.

Both men looked at each other unflinchingly for a few minutes, whilst Alice’s complexion grew pale, as though she expected them to start punching one another any second. But Adam merely nodded.

“Well, you and I must talk about this again at a more appropriate time.”

“Certainly, Dr. Ellis. I think I should be going now, Kate,” said Peter. Bella was staring at the stain on his trousers, and I don’t think he could bear it. “Good luck with your dig, Professor. I look forward to hearing from you very soon. Lady Faulkner, Miss Wyndham-Brown.”

“Goodbye, Mr. Bennett,” said Bella, but she was looking at Adam with much more interest. Peter looked crestfallen as I escorted him to the door. I wanted to say something encouraging, but I was too tense myself to be of much comfort and between us we parted in very low spirits.

“What a pleasant young man,” said Alice as I re-entered the room. “And now I really think we should be discussing the trip. There’s a great deal to be decided, and we don’t want to tire poor James any more than we have to.”

With her impeccable hostess skills, Alice finally managed to steer the conversation away from inappropriate subjects, and soon everyone had retired to Papa’s study, and all the talk was of lists and maps and studies of the area. Then Papa realised he had left a schematic of a tomb in the drawing room, and I went to look for it.

I found it behind the aspidistra, and I was on my knees trying to retrieve it when I heard someone follow me into the room. Thinking it was Sayeed, I looked up.

“Ah, Sayeed, could you—oh!”

It wasn’t Sayeed, it was Adam. He crouched down beside me. “You and I need to talk, Kate.”

“No, we don’t,” I snapped, standing up again. “I’ve got nothing to say to you.”

“Really? You sounded as though you had a lot you wanted to say just now.”

“Well, I haven’t. Now if you don’t mind, I’m very busy. Give these to Papa, would you please?”

I thrust the notes in his hand and swept back into the parlour, where I began clearing up teacups, furious with him and myself for still allowing him to affect me this way. I clashed the crockery together and smashed a saucer, then swore in a very unladylike fashion.

“May I help you, Miss Whitaker?”

I turned. Mr. Tillyard was standing next to me, the gentle smile still on his face.

“Please don’t bother,” I said, flustered that he’d heard me be so indelicate. “I already feel bad enough about blaming you for not paying Papa, when clearly it wasn’t your fault. And of course I still feel dreadful about…” I tailed off, not really too sure what trick it was I had played him all those years ago.

“About starching my underwear?” His smile grew, as I blushed. “Please think no more of it. I’m sure we assistants were an irresistible source of amusement to you.”

“You really are far too kind, Mr. Tillyard,” I said as he held the door open for me and we made our way to the kitchen.

“I’m just glad to be here, Miss Whitaker. I’ve been reading your reports on the excavations for the past year before they seemed to go astray, and may I say I have always been impressed by their clarity and attention to detail. I might even add I feel as if I know you.”

“You’re very kind,” I repeated. “I didn’t realise you had been with the Cavendish Museum for so long.”

“I was the assistant treasurer before taking up my present position, Miss Whitaker. And as I said, I’ve long been privy to the work you and your father have been doing here in Egypt, but unfortunately my influence has not been very great up till now. I’m only glad I was at last able to help Lady Faulkner persuade the board how important your work out here is.”

“I’m flattered, Mr. Tillyard. Of course I knew Sir Henry wasn’t happy with the direction Papa’s research was taking, but I can’t help feeling he was listening to outside influences.”

Of course, by this I meant Adam. Mr. Tillyard looked at me speculatively.

“Might I give you some advice, Miss Whitaker?”

“Of course,” I said, stopping by the kitchen door.

“Be careful about whom you take into your confidence. And warn your father to do the same. I know he has had to endure a great deal of mockery over the last few years because of his interest in Khaemwaset and his Scarlet Queen, but the recent discovery of the mummy pits caused quite a stir in certain circles. The news even travelled as far as London. It would be a mistake to think that nobody is taking you seriously.”

I met his gaze, looking for mockery, but finding only sincerity instead. I nodded. “Very well, Mr. Tillyard. Thank you for your advice.”

I took the tray into the kitchen and as I returned, I noticed Bella’s carriage still waiting outside. I looked quickly at my watch; it was five minutes to six. I hurried back into the study and found Bella seated by the window, talking animatedly to Adam. As I approached them, she looked up at me, giggling.

“Kate! Dr. Ellis has just been explaining to me about your father’s assistants and the glue on the saddle. Did you really do that to poor Mr. Tillyard?”

“No,” I said crushingly. Adam’s smile was unbearably smug.

“Well then, it must have been the time you sabotaged the mosquito nets. Or was he the one whose boot soles you cut so they let in mud from the Nile? Or perhaps—” Bella’s eyes were growing rounder as he catalogued my litany of mischief.

“If you must know,” I snapped at last. “I starched his underwear. Bella, I hate to drive you away, but it’s six o’clock, and I don’t want you getting into trouble with your aunt.”

“Oh. Yes, of course.” Reluctantly Bella stood up. I could tell she was insatiably curious, but I had no intention of entering into a discussion with her now. I hustled her away from him and out into the street.

“You are going to tell me everything on Thursday, you horrible girl,” she said, as she climbed into the carriage.

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“Nothing to—Kate, you’ve been spitting venom at that man from the moment he walked through the door! What on earth happened between you?”

“Nothing. I—we—nothing. Bella, I can’t discuss it now. I have to get back.”

“All right,” she conceded reluctantly, pecking me lightly on each cheek. “But I want to know everything next time.”

“Bella, you’re a dreadful gossip.”

“Of course I am. That’s what we heiresses live for. See you on Thursday,” she cried as the carriage pulled away at top speed. The driver had been relieved to see her, and I suspected he was contemplating Lady Faverham’s ire at her niece’s late arrival.

I returned to the house and went back to the parlour, hoping to escape and have a few moments’ peace. I sat down in Papa’s chair. A faint aroma of cigar smoke clung to the upholstery, and I found it very comforting.

“You’ve still got a wicked tongue, Kate.”

I jumped as Adam appeared at the door. He came and sat down on the sofa beside my chair, and I considered getting up and walking out, but only briefly. After all, if we were going on an expedition together, we were going to have to get used to one another. Besides, wasn’t this what I really wanted?

“Why did you come out here, Adam?” I asked coolly.

“I’m the new secretary of the board, Kate. If you want money out of us, you’ve got to expect to be able to justify your needs.”

“Really? Well I’m amazed you’d bother coming. You made it perfectly clear what you thought of Papa’s theories last time. Let me see, ‘The nonsensical fantasies of a romantic eccentric.’ I seem to recall that was how you phrased it last time. Or what about ‘The last desperate efforts of a once respected scholar in his decline’? I was particularly struck by that one.”

“I shouldn’t have said those things—”

“No, you shouldn’t. But you did, Adam. And you have the nerve to accuse me of having a wicked tongue.”

He sighed and sat forward, rubbing his eyes. “I seem to remember you said a few things that didn’t do you any credit either.”

“If I did, then I apologise. But you had no call to just abandon me, Adam—”

“Abandon you! Do you know how many times I tried to see you during that last week? I had to go back to England. My father was ill and my mother needed me—”

“I needed you.”

“It wasn’t the same. I—”

“No, it wasn’t, was it, Adam? I didn’t have Alice to snap her fingers for me.”

We glared at each other, then Adam gave a curt laugh. “Still jealous of her, Kate? After all this time?”

“You gave me plenty to be jealous about, Adam,” I said, feeling myself becoming as heated as if the years had never happened and we were back in the same room having that same argument all over again. “You could have stayed and helped Papa. Even to make him see sense if that was what you truly believed. You could have stayed to be with me. But when Alice wrote to you that last week, calling you back, you just left without a second thought. Because whenever Alice beckons, you come running, don’t you?”

He was glaring at me now, all traces of condescension gone. We were very close to one another, so close I could see the faint hints of green in his dark brown eyes, smell the familiar scent of cologne he always used.

“How many times do I have to say it before you believe me? I never received any letter from her. I got one from my mother and—”

“You’re lying!”

He glared at me, his fury just contained within his control. “I can’t have this conversation with you again,” he ground out finally, and strode out the door, slamming it shut with alarming force.

Left alone, I sat down on the sofa again, as confused as I had been over a year ago. He was lying, I knew this for a fact. But why?

I sat and thought. The answers I had waited fifteen months for seemed as far away as ever. But this time I was older and wiser and despite that inauspicious start, I was no longer so angry. I was more in control now and determined to find out why he had lied.

I took a deep breath. One way or another, before Adam returned to London, I would know the truth of what had happened that summer.