Chapter Fourteen

London, Spring 1921

After the discovery of the alabaster vessels of Merneptah, Eve’s determination to become a lady archaeologist was stronger than ever, but back home in London, Almina had other ideas.

“Ideally you should have been engaged after your first Season,” she said, regarding her daughter critically. “But to be single after your second would look as if there’s something terribly wrong with you. Shall I invite Tommy Russell for dinner this week?”

Eve cringed. “Please don’t, Mama. You would embarrass us both. He has his eye on many other girls apart from me and seems content to sow his wild oats.”

“There are subtle ways a girl can encourage a man,” Almina said, looking coy. “Perhaps he doesn’t realize you are interested.”

Eve snorted with laughter, wondering what methods her mother had in mind. “Believe me, Lord Russell knows exactly where he stands.”

Her mother’s expression clouded over. “Such a shame. He would be perfect. If you’re too fussy, you’ll miss the boat entirely. How about Wilfred Beningfield?”

Eve gave a mock shudder. “He’s inoffensive, I grant you, but . . .” She screwed up her face, and Almina couldn’t help but laugh.

“We’re counting on you, Eve,” she said. “Porchy’s the mischief-maker in our family, but you’re a good girl. You won’t let me down.”

Eve knew what had sparked this conversation. Porchy had fallen in love with a girl called Catherine Wendell, who was spectacularly beautiful, with strawberry blond hair and the darkest blue eyes she’d ever seen. Pups was vehemently against the match because she was virtually penniless and he’d been hoping the estate would get an injection of cash from Porchy’s wife’s dowry. Almina was against it because she was American, and, what’s worse, it seemed her father had been an actor before his early death.

Eve liked Catherine enormously and couldn’t imagine a sweeter sister-in-law, so she was doing her best to change her parents’ minds. Porchy was so headstrong that she knew he would marry Catherine with or without their approval, and she feared that could cause a family rift.

Eve loved Highclere and knew that Porchy did too. They’d had an immensely privileged upbringing, but the price was high if they couldn’t marry for love. Sometimes she wished she wasn’t Lady Evelyn Herbert, daughter of the Earl of Carnarvon, but just plain Eve, from a normal family, who could pick any man she wanted as a husband, be he a lord or a chimney sweep.

All around her, friends were settling down. Lois had agreed to marry her childhood friend after the “kissing test” proved successful, and she was the first of the unholy quadrumvirate to walk down the aisle. Emily was engaged to a flashy friend of Tommy Russell’s. She chased around town in taxis following him from one party to the next, breathless and giddy, in no mind to listen to her friends urging caution.

Maude was Eve’s closest confidante in those years as they scrutinized the available men and endlessly discussed the type of marriage they wanted—and then Maude found Cuthbert, leaving Eve the last one on the shelf.

* * *

Fifty-one years later, over dinner with Maude and Cuthbert in the dining room of her London apartment, Eve smiled to remember that they had met because of her.

“Do you ever think of all the coincidences that brought the four of us to be sitting here tonight?” she asked. “I met Brograve by chance at the Residency in Cairo; I met Maude when she saved me from social humiliation at Queen Charlotte’s Ball; and, Maude, you met Cuthbert because I pressed Brograve to bring a friend to your party. Otherwise we could all have married quite different people, and where would we be now?”

“I think I deserve some of the credit,” Cuthbert said. “I had a deuce of a time persuading Brograve to go to that party. He made every excuse under the sun to bow out, and finally agreed only to stop me from throttling him.”

“If you and I hadn’t met that night, I’m sure we would have found each other on another occasion,” Maude murmured.

“But you might have been swept off your feet by another man by then, and I would have had to worship you from afar.” He turned to Eve. “I had the strangest feeling when Maude greeted us at the front door. Right from the start I knew—I just knew I had to marry her.”

Maude smiled at the memory. “By the end of that evening, I felt the same way. After all the agonizing you and I had done, Eve, when the time came it was simple.”

Mrs. Jarrold brought the main course of beef Wellington and there were gasps of admiration. The pastry was golden and flaky, the beef pink and tender. Eve had hesitated over the choice of beef because it was tricky for her to cut meat. She could hold cutlery in her right hand but not firmly. She saw Brograve wondering whether to offer to cut it for her, but she was determined to manage herself. She stabbed her fork into the beef and sawed with the knife in her left hand until she had a mouthful.

“I remember chatting to you at the end of that party,” Eve told Maude, “and you couldn’t wipe the grin off your face.”

For her, the evening had not had such a happy conclusion.