Cairo 1922
Lady Julia Digby shook out a long silk dress with a drop-waist that came to just above Ella’s knees. Julia frowned and picked up the telephone to call the hotel concierge and have a seamstress sent up.
Damn, Ella thought. The hotel has seamstresses on call? She was sitting on the room’s huge double bed in one of Julia’s silk dressing gowns and watched her new friend create a new identity for Ella. Until she could figure out how to find either the crack behind the bakery or some other way to get back to 2013, Ella was grateful for clothes, shelter and food. It seemed little enough if she had to pretend to be someone Lady Digby needed her to be.
Ella did, of course, draw the line at contract killing.
“I don’t mean murder him, of course,” Julia had said. “But I’ve made a frightful mistake marrying him. Papa said I had but you know how it is to be the youngest child. Once you’ve had your way for twenty years, it’s hard to quit having it.”
“Why did you marry him?” Ella asked. Her stomach had been steadily growling for an hour and she hoped Julia was about to order room service or say it was time to go down to the dining room.
“I married him,” Julia said, as if speaking to a simpleton, “because he was Lord Carnarvon’s best friend—or so he said—and because he was part of Howard Carter’s party. Oh, please, Miss Stevens, you can’t be so ignorant as to not know about the dig at the Valley of the Kings?”
Ella shrugged. “Sorry,” she said. “Guess I was busy doing other things.”
“He made it sound so romantic. Egypt! Buried treasure! Pyramids! And I was so dying for some adventure.”
“Do you love him?” Ella couldn’t imagine Julia could possibly love him if she was scheming to find a way to get rid of him.
“I thought I did. But he changed after the wedding. Or, more precisely, after we arrived in Egypt.”
Ella looked around the room. “When is he due back?”
Julia looked at her with confusion and then shook her head. “We don’t share a room, if that’s what you’re implying,” she said.
“Do married people not do that in your…er, your world?” Ella was open to believing just about anything at this point.
“Common folk may do. My kind of people are civilized enough to have their own rooms. Heavens, I can’t imagine!”
“So do you, er, I mean, have you at least, you know, consummated it?”
“Miss Stevens, really. To even ask such a thing! That is so coarse and lowbrow. And none of your business.”
“Sorry. I apologize.” There was an awkward pause.
“We have not yet had…relations,” Julia said. “There hasn’t really been an opportunity. Thank God.”
“But eventually,” Ella said. “That’s probably somewhere in his plans, don’t you imagine?”
Julia looked at her with such alarm and fear that Ella couldn’t help but wonder if there wasn’t something else going on beyond a virgin’s jitters.
“Anyway,” Julia said, as she picked up a square of netting from the bed where she had tossed it a few minutes ago in search of a pair of gloves for Ella. “You’ll meet him and see for yourself tonight. Perhaps you will like him for yourself.”
“I’m taken,” Ella said.
Julia made a face. “Your fiancé back in America?” she said sarcastically.
Hmmm. She had a point. Ella probably couldn’t use Rowan as an excuse for anything in this timeline. In any case, the brief thought of him made her bottom lip tremble a little.
“Are you all right, Miss Stevens? You look so sad all of a sudden.”
“I’m okay,” Ella said. She forced herself to push thoughts of Rowan away. She would see him again. She reminded herself that she was only two taxi rides and one flight away from being right back there on the couch with him in Dothan, watching the Military Channel or some boring documentary on how the Pharaohs built the stupid pyramids. Right now, that sounded absolutely wonderful. She would find the crack in the wall tomorrow morning after she’d rested and had a decent meal.
And oh what a great story this would all make later.
The Shepheard Hotel’s main staircase fanned out to a wide base in the famous lobby. Thickly carpeted in a royal blue to mirror the celestial ceiling of gold-studded starry heavens, the staircase had ornate gold-plated railings decorated with intricate finials. When Ella stood at the landing before the final dramatic descent, her arm looped in Lady Julia’s, she realized why such effort had gone into creating the commanding staircase. The sheer drama of such an entrance was undeniable. Every face looked up, every eye admired. “Remember,” Julia had told her, “Don’t smile. Americans are always too eager to be pleased with themselves.”
Got it, Ella thought, as she slowly walked down the staircase. No smiling. I am but a thing of beauty to be admired and lusted after from afar. She caught the eye of a handsome young man in a British uniform who was watching her descend. For one mad moment she imagined a knife and fork in each hand and a napkin tied around his neck as he hungrily devoured the vision of her. I think this age has the whole woman-on-a-pedestal thing down, she thought as she stood a little straighter and pushed her chest out a little more. And I like it.
With the help of the hotel’s seamstress and Julia commandeering the process every step of the way, Ella had been outfitted in a gown that hugged her curves and draped off them in what even she could see was suggestive yet demure. This is an art that has, unfortunately, not survived the decades, she thought sadly. Right now, she would give absolutely anything if Rowan could see her in this dress.
When they entered the hotel dining room, Ella gasped at the opulence. Designed to look like the inside of an Arabian temple, the room was lined with two dozen hand-painted pillars. They supported, not the ceiling, but the recessed rim of the ceiling which was the largest skylight Ella had ever seen. Every square inch of the skylight had been etched with swirls and scrolls that flickered and danced with the movement of the light from twin gigantic crystal chandeliers that illuminated the entire room with electric light.
Every head turned as they passed. Julia’s maid had dressed Ella’s hair for the evening. She was thankful that her hair had grown enough from her Heidelberg adventure—where she had found it necessary to crop it short to pass for a boy—to be twisted into the chignon she now wore. Two long glittering needles topped with semi-precious stones held the coif in place. As they approached their table, the two men seated there tossed down their napkins and stood up.
I could totally get used to this, Ella found herself thinking. She glanced at Julia to see if it was okay to smile yet but she found her new friend looking stern and wooden.
“Good evening, my dear,” said one of the men as he took Julia by the elbow. He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek but his eyes locked with Ella’s.
So this was Viscount Digby. Ella pretty much disliked him on sight. He was thin with a pale complexion and strawberry blond hair combed in greasy waves. His nose was pronounced and strong with a nearly invisible blond mustache beneath it and his lips were thin and mean. He looked at Ella like he wanted to take a very large, meaty bite out of her.
“Edward, this is Miss Stevens.”
Viscount Digby bowed and held out his hand to Ella. She reached out to shake it and was surprised when he brought her hand to his mustachied lips and kissed it. Feeling the skin under her long gloves crawl, she forced herself not to snatch her hand away.
“Charmed,” he said, his eyes dropped to the bodice of Ella’s gown.
Hey, bub, my eyes are up here, Ella thought, finally pulling her hand back. “Pleased to meet you,” she murmured.
“And Mr. Howard Carter,” Lady Julia said. She turned from her husband and Ella to shake hands with a tall, middle aged man standing patiently at the table.
“Good evening, Lady Julia,” he said. “Very pleased to meet you Miss Stevens.”
Julia seated herself, which cued Ella to do the same. The men sat down.
“Miss Stevens is an American,” Julia said, “who has responded to my father’s advertisement for a traveling companion for me.”
Ella was in the process of tugging off her gloves when Julia spoke and she was sure her reaction was as dramatic as a vaudevillian double take.
I did what?
“Oh, very good, Miss Stevens,” Digby said. “So you will be accompanying us to the dig site?”
Ella stared at Digby in astonishment.
Julia deftly removed her own gloves in a single movement. “Oh, yes, she’s very excited to be a part of it all,” she said. “She has read all about your work, Mr. Carter, and is an Egyptian aficionado. Isn’t that true, Miss Stevens?’
Ella looked at Julia and tried not to register on her face the solid nudge Julia gave her shin under the table. “Er, yes,” she said. “Very excited.” She gave Julia a return nudge with her foot and hoped it would be interpreted correctly as what the hell?!
“The Americans, especially, seem to love all the excitement happening in archaeological circles in Egypt today,” Digby said. “Especially at KV62.” He gave a nod in Carter’s direction but Carter merely signaled for the waiter to fill the ladies’ wine glasses.
“Miss Stevens has read all about Lord Carnarvon’s interest in the Valley of the Kings,” Julia continued, ignoring Ella’s angry glare. “I’m sure she will be thrilled to meet him. I mentioned to you, did I not, Miss Stevens, that my husband is good friends with his lordship?”
“Yes,” Ella said. She glanced at Digby who was doing a good impersonation of a slathering dog in front of a bone as he stared at her breasts. “Very impressive,” she said.
“Mr. Carter is only briefly in Cairo,” Julia said, “to meet with us and escort us to the dig site across from Luxor. I just love saying dig site. I can’t thank you enough, sir.”
Carter picked up the menu and frowned briefly at Julia.
“Not at all, Lady Digby,” Carter said. “It is my honor.”
“Lord Carnarvon gave us entrée, you see,” Julia said to Ella. “As I am sure you know, his lordship, who is presently in London, has the license for the dig and is convinced that we shall find the tomb of King Tutankhamun there. Oh, my, did you hear what I just said? I said ‘we.’ It appears I too am caught up in the archaeological fervor. I am as bad as the Americans.”
With that comment and one final, determined nudge against Ella’s lightly slippered foot, Julia steered the conversation away from Ella’s credentials or background and firmly into the realm of subjects of unfailing interest to the men: themselves.
Later that night, as they prepared for bed, Ella confronted her.
“I can’t go, you know,” she said. “Whatever you’ve got planned for us doing away with your husband—”
“Shhhhh!” Julia said, looking over her shoulder. “My maid is still in attendance.”
“Okay, well I’m sure it’s okay for her to hear this. I am not going with you tomorrow. I have an important engagement.”
“With whom, pray tell? The disgraced valet? You have no such engagement.”
“As it happens, I do, and while I’m grateful forever for your help today, I need to be on my way tomorrow.”
Julia jumped on the bed next to Julia, her dressing gown flowing around her. “It’s only for two weeks. You have nothing else to do and it would be a wonderful adventure. One you will tell your grandchildren about. Think of it, Miss Stevens. To be present when they find the tomb of King Tutankhamun!”
“It sounds swell, really,” Ella said. “And as much as I’d love to, I have to get back—”
“Miss Stevens, you must come. You saw him! Surely, you can’t expect me to spend two weeks with him in a desert tent.”
“Look, you’ve got your maid there—”
“Alice isn’t coming.” Julia made a face as if astounded anyone could be so ignorant. “I am not bringing a lady’s maid to the dig site. Really, Miss Stevens, you are so funny.”
“Okay, well, you aren’t bringing me either, Julia, er, Lady Julia. I’m sorry, I can’t do it.”
Julia plucked at a feather sticking to her sleeve. “You have to come. I’ve already told them you were my traveling companion.”
“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have done that without talking to me first.”
“But I already have done it. How can I tell them now you’re not who I said you were?”
“Look, I don’t know. See? This, Lady Julia, is why people shouldn’t lie.”
“How dare you! Are you accusing me of lying?”
Ella felt exhausted just talking with this creature. Perhaps she should give in and agree to come and then sneak out in the morning. It had been a long, over-stimulating day and she really needed to just fall into bed and sleep if she could turn her brain off long enough to do it.
“Look, Julia,” she said, with resignation weighing down her shoulders with every word. “I’ll go. Just let me please sleep now. Okay?”
Julia held up her hand with her finger and thumb making the symbol of the letter O. “O-kay,” she said, happily.
The next morning, Ella slept late. Any chance of slipping out of the hotel had evaporated hours earlier. When she opened her eyes, she saw a hotel maid approaching with a large breakfast tray which she placed on the bed. Ella pulled herself to a sitting position while the maid poured her a steaming cup of tea and, without asking, added milk and sugar. She dropped a small linen napkin across the covers in front of Ella and then went to the bathroom where Ella soon heard water running.
Someone had pulled the long sheer window curtains back and the sun was streaming into the room creating rectangles of gold across the coral Isfahan rug on the floor. The bed itself was encircled with a fine white mosquito netting that seemed to give the scene outside the bed a soft-focus glow. Ella found herself strangely content. She nestled back into her pillows and lifted a silver dome on her tray to reveal four savory sausages. The aroma of lavender mixed with cardamom was exquisite. Removing the lid of the other plate revealed a soft-boiled egg perched in a small ceramic cup. A silver spoon was tucked prettily on the saucer.
Wow. It’s good to be rich in the 1920’s, Ella thought as she took the first restorative sip of the hot tea. Maybe the expedition to Luxor wouldn’t be quite as rough as she’s imagined—not that fear of sleeping primitively was the reason she knew she couldn’t go. She glanced out the window at the beginning of what looked like a truly gorgeous summer day. She reminded herself that she couldn’t go because she had to get back to Dothan. And Rowan. She cut into one of the sausages and chewed it while surveying the room. Even the walls were dressed in silk, she thought in wonder. The furniture had well-appointed, clean lines. Ella knew little to nothing about antiques but these chairs and dressers were a pleasure to the eye—even her nondiscerning eye.
“Oh, my dear! Still in bed?” Julia swung open the door and swept into the room. She was holding a large dress box. “I had to order a few things for you since you can hardly continue to wear my clothes. I never felt so huge before I had to watch you drown in all my frocks. I have to say I envy you, Ella. Do you mind if I call you that? I would love to be diminutive and petite. Women like you are what the romance book sheiks are always lifting effortlessly up onto their Arabian ponies before galloping off into the Egyptian night.”
“Funny,” Ella said, cracking the top off her egg. “You don’t strike me as the kind of woman who reads romance novels.”
“Oh? Well, I suppose not. My sisters and I did sneak one or two into the nursery, I admit. Oh, do hurry, Ella. Your bath will be ice by now and Mr. Carter is literally holding the dahabiya as we speak.”
“The dabi-what?”
“The boat, dearest. Didn’t I mention? We’ll travel to Luxor down the Nile. But you must hurry.” Julia came over to the bed and picked up a triangle of buttered toast. She took a small bite and dropped it back onto the tray. “I am so glad you’ve changed your mind. I cannot tell you what a godsend this is to me.”
“Okay,” Ella whispered. “Just as long as you know we’re not getting rid of anyone.”
Julia gave her a look, one that Ella found disconcertingly difficult to read. “Of course not. I’m just grateful to have a friend,” Julia said.
As they neared the docks where the boats were waiting, the confusion and noise grew increasingly unpleasant. The French Director of Antiquities, Monsieur Maspero, was standing dockside speaking with Carter. He bowed over Julia’s hand and nodded pleasantly to Ella. Ella wore a pale blue gingham skirt with a pleated undershirt and wide lacy cuffs. Something itched her desperately underneath it all and she was already exhausted from lugging the heavy garment across her shoulders and hips—the undergarments alone weighed more than what she usually wore back home. The heat at this time of day was punishing. Her face reddened and was damp with perspiration as she walked onto the dock.
Named Satiah, the dahabiya had several cabins on the main deck, joined by one large salon and all under one single roof. With a canopy and deck chairs, the upper deck became a comfortable open-air living room. The kitchen and engine were below deck where the crew lived.
The dahabiya was flat-bottomed and had two masts. Looking at the other boats on the river, Ella had to admit they were a stunning sight in full sail. She decided they were fairly clean, too, even by 2013 standards. She and Julia would share a large carpeted stateroom attached to a hallway which led to the communal salon and also to stairs to the sundeck. The exterior wall of the room had six long windows with linen curtains trimmed in gold. There was also a formal dining room, which meant they would dine as a group each night.
It would take three full days to reach Luxor, the docking point for the excavation site—longer if the wind lulled. From there, they would switch to a horse-drawn carriage for the last mile to the dig site.
Feeling infected with a sense of excitement at the beginning of this adventure, Ella stood at the railing next to Julia. They both wore wide hats against the punishing sun and watched the Egyptian dockworkers untie the mooring ropes and push the boat away from the bank. When the largest sail swelled with the wind, the dahabiya moved swiftly away from the dock and began its journey down the river.
The sun was high but the breeze was gentle and cooling on the top deck where both Julia and Ella had retreated. From this vantage point they could see palaces and gardens—one right after another like scenes from Arabian Nights, stream past their boat. For the first time since her arrival in Egypt, Ella saw the pyramids in the distance, and actually clapped her hands when they came into view.
Julia looked at her with amusement. “Your valet didn’t take you to the pyramids to steal kisses in the dark?”
Ella ignored her. Without having an inkling that she would feel this way, she found herself exuberant in her expectation of joy and delight at each new sight. The breeze forced her to keep one hand on her hat to keep it from cartwheeling into the river.
As soon as the last vestiges of the city disappeared around the last bend, Julia retired to her chamber for a nap but Ella stayed on the top deck under the harsh sun. She was enjoying every magical minute of her adventure. The dragoman that Digby had hired in Cairo, a Copt named William, came up to erect a huge umbrella over one of the deck chairs. And it was there that Ella remained quite happily. Except for two very welcome trays of hot tea and little cakes delivered to her by William, she was undisturbed until dinnertime.
The Nile stretched before her like a winding green ribbon, edged on both sides by reed-filled shores. Once, Ella saw a large log morph into a crocodile as it slid from the bank into the opaque waters. She wished she had her cellphone to videotape the event.
That evening, after Julia had climbed up the stairs to tell Ella she must dress for dinner, Ella bathed and put on a silk brocade gown she would have thought too dressy to wear to a royal wedding let alone a trip on a riverboat. Julia was appalled at how much sun Ella had allowed on her face.
“I know you’re American, but really,” she said as she helped Ella into her gown. “Do you just not even care if men find you attractive?”
The dining room was elegant but basic. It afforded a wonderful view of the sun setting in the western sky. Ella had not seen Digby all day and for that she was grateful. He and Carter were again in evening dress and Ella imagined that the two could easily have spent hours dressing and polishing and fiddling with the proper cuff links. She tried to imagine Rowan in this world. Her rough and ready Rowan, who rolled out of bed and hit the shower and was on the road before Ella had even put the toast down for her breakfast. She smiled while fondly thinking of him. No, this was probably not the ideal century for her cowboy marshal, she thought. It was too slow and deliberate. Although, now that she thought of it, he did have his moments…
“Penny for your thoughts, Miss Stevens?” Digby was leering at her from across the table and Ella found her mood come flying solidly back down to earth.
“I say, I think I’ve flustered your traveling companion, my dear,” he said to his wife. “Now you must tell me what you were thinking of.”
God, what an ass he is, Ella thought, trying to camouflage her thoughts from appearing on her face. How could Julia ever have thought him charming?
“We can’t be too delicate, ladies,” Digby said. “We are going to be roughing it as soon as we land. Imagine! Sleeping every night in the ancient city of Thebes. It’s enough to give you goose pimples, eh, Miss Stevens?”
Digby leaned over and gently pinched Ella’s arm. And although she was covered by a long sleeve blouse, she felt the spot burn on her elbow where he had touched her. She forced a smile. “Very exciting,” she muttered.
“But not to worry. You will, of course, have all your needs attended to.” Digby poured himself another tot of brandy. “It may not be quite the level of service you are used to, my dear,” he said, addressing Julia. “But I’ll wager my man Abdullah is worth two of your average footmen—even as he is Arab and all.”
In addition to the dragoman William, who translated for the party when necessary and served as pseudo butler, Digby had hired a bodyguard in Cairo named Abdullah—a sour, mean-faced ferret of a man with glittering black eyes. He carried a wicked, curved knife clearly visible to all.
Ella couldn’t help but wonder why Digby felt he needed a personal bodyguard.