by Pride
“It is about time I had my portrait painted,” said Mrs Bennet. “Your father would never commission one, though I asked him to time after time. I am looking forward to hanging it in the drawing room at Longbourn. How green Mrs Long will be.”
Mrs Bennet continued to relish the faces of her neighbours while the others worked at their appointed tasks.
“At least sand is one thing we are never short of in Egypt!” said Sophie as she sanded her letter. “Although the ink dries so quickly here it is not really necessary.”
“But it is hard to break the habit,” Elizabeth agreed. “Have you written to everyone? Once we set off down the Nile, there will be no more opportunity to post a letter until we return. I am sure the dig site is very primitive, despite Sir Matthew’s boast, and he only sends to Cairo once a month for letters and supplies.”
“Yes. I have written to Mama and my sisters,” said Sophie. “I have told them all about our stay in Cairo, but by the time I write the next letter, there will be something even more exotic to talk about.”
She wandered over to one of the windows and looked out over the desert.
“It is strange to think that a mighty civilisation flourished here but that it is now covered in sand,” she said. “Whole temples have been buried beneath the desert. I am glad we are going to join Sir Matthew at his dig. I never thought about the wider world before; indeed, I never thought about anything outside Meryton, but now my eyes have been opened and it is all thanks to you, Elizabeth.”
“My dear Sophie, we were only too glad to bring you with us.”
“Do you think Mr Fitzwilliam will really find an undiscovered tomb, with all its treasures?” asked Sophie.
“He certainly hopes so.”
“The pyramids, the tombs… they make me wonder about the people who made them. And yet it shows the insignificance of men, do you not think, that their most triumphant works can be buried so easily by nature?”
“But they are still there,” said Elizabeth, “not destroyed, only lost. And that which is lost can be found.”
Sophie paused, much struck. “Yes, it can.” Her voice took on a musing tone. “I thought I had lost something forever…”
“Mr Rotherham?” asked Elizabeth gently.
“No, not Mr Rotherham, but something more important, my joy in life. I thought he had destroyed it. But he had only buried it, and I believe I am finding it again.”
“It is lucky that Edward is so adept at archaeology,” said Elizabeth innocently.
“Elizabeth!” said Sophie, blushing.
“Well it is he, is it not, who has reawakened your joy in living?” said Elizabeth teasingly. “Unless it is Mr Inkworthy?”
Sophie’s colour subsided slightly, although not completely, and a faint flush could still be seen beneath her tanned skin.
“I confess I like him, too. He is very different from Edward, more serious perhaps and not as confident, but he is an interesting person. He is no less passionate in his own way.”
“And his looks, although not handsome, have a way of growing on one,” said Elizabeth.
“Yes, they do.”
Elizabeth paused for a minute and then said, “Sophie, you have no mother with you and so I will say to you what my aunt said to me, many years ago, when I thought I was on the way to being in love with George Wickham. I have been very happy to see you coming back to life, and a light flirtation with Mr Inkworthy is an agreeable thing, but I want you to be on your guard. Anything more serious would be imprudent because of a want to fortune on both sides. I have nothing to say against him; he is a most interesting young man, but I think you must not let your fancy run away with you. I hope I am not offending you by speaking so openly?”
“No, not at all. But you must not take it too hard if I cannot follow your excellent advice. Oh, I do not mean that I am in love with Mr Inkworthy—far from it—only that you did not allow a matter of fortune to sway you in your marriage, for I believe you would have married Mr Darcy if he had been a pauper. And how can I promise to be wiser than you and so many of my fellow creatures if I am tempted, or how am I even to know that it would be wisdom to resist? All that I can promise you is that I will do my best.”
Elizabeth laughed.
“And now you have answered me as I answered my aunt. Well, I can ask for no more than that. Now, I had better instruct the servants, there will be plenty to do over the next few days. If we can complete our journey down the Nile without Jane falling overboard or Laurence bartering his grandmama for a camel, then I will think myself fortunate indeed.”
Chapter 9
The remaining few days in Cairo passed quickly. Paul travelled out to Giza to sketch the head of the sphinx and returned with a tale of having accepted a camel ride back to Cairo, only to be taken deeper into the desert by the camel’s owner, who demanded money of him and threatened to leave him if he did not pay. He returned to the house chastened, and it was a reminder to all of them that they needed to be aware of the dangers all around them and properly prepared for their journey. But at last all the preparations were made, and they embarked on the flat-bottomed boat that would carry them down the Nile.
Their journey was enjoyable, and Elizabeth regretted it when the last night on board arrived. She was dressed in a loose muslin gown. A large hat was shading her face and protecting her eyes from the low rays of the sun. They were all lingering on deck, eager to make the most of it—all but Jane and Margaret, who, tired, had been put to bed.
Elizabeth and Darcy were sitting apart from the others at the back of the boat. As they watched the sun sinking into the water, Darcy dropped soft kisses on her hair. Elizabeth leaned back against his chest, enjoying the view. The graceful palm trees on the banks made intricate silhouettes against the rapidly darkening sky.
“First a sunrise and now a sunset. We have seen some magnificent skies in Egypt,” she said. “It is strange to think of other people watching this same sight, going back for thousands of years.”
“Strange and also humbling to think of other lovers watching the sun go down, even as we are doing now.”
“Yes, love is the one thing that never changes,” agreed Elizabeth as she basked in Darcy’s love and the beauty of the evening. “Although people themselves do. Those lovers in earlier times did not know why the sun sank beneath the horizon every evening. They thought it happened because the sun god, Ra, left the heavens to travel through the underworld, where he would fight the serpent Apophis before emerging again, triumphant, the following morning, bringing with him the new day.”
“I see that Edward has been telling you about the Egyptian myths.”
“Yes, he has. And I am not the only one,” said Elizabeth, looking toward the front of the boat, where Edward was entertaining the children with an Egyptian tale, while Sir Matthew looked on with a kindly air. Edward’s words drifted through the still, calm air toward them:
“…the king did not want to go to war, as it meant leaving all his treasure behind. But at last he had no choice, and so he left his treasure on the island of Elephantine, which was guarded by a powerful magician. As soon as the king left, his relatives tried to claim the treasure for their own—”
“He should have passed a law forbidding anyone to touch it,” said William.
“He should have left some soldiers behind to guard it,” said John.
“He didn’t need to; he had the magician to guard it,” said Laurence. “No one would be able to steal it if it had a magician guarding it; it would be safe.”
“Unfortunately not,” said Edward. “They slew the magician—”
“Then the king should have chosen a better magician,” said Laurence. “He wasn’t very powerful if he got killed so easily.”
“He was a very powerful magician,” said Edward, “for he rose from the dead, turning into an enor
mous serpent who ate them all. And there the serpent remains to this day, guarding the treasure.”
“How are we going to kill him then?” asked Laurence.
“It’s only a story,” said William.
“We are not going to the island of Elephantine,” said Beth. “We are going to a dig in the desert; it is not the same thing.”
“Quite right, Miss Darcy,” said Sir Matthew. “A real dig, not a fairy tale.”
“But some bold adventurer might steal the treasure one day,” said Laurence, ignoring them.
“The serpent is too powerful, with a light on his head which blinds all who see it,” said Edward.
“Yes, but sometimes it leaves its cave and goes down to the river to drink; you said so yourself,” remarked John thoughtfully. “If I had a sword and a party of good men, I could take the treasure in its absence and then lie in wait for it in the back of the cave. I would tie a cravat round my eyes to protect them and then my men and I would kill it when it returned.”
“I wouldn’t need a sword and a party of men to get the treasure,” said Laurence with contempt. “If the stupid serpent has been guarding the treasure for thousands of years without realising the king must be dead, it will be easy to outwit. If I ever find the island, I will just close my eyes and feel my way up to the serpent, pretending to be a beggar. I will tell the serpent the king has sent for it, and then steal the treasure when the serpent slithers away.”
Darcy laughed.
“Our youngest son is nothing if not enterprising.”
Elizabeth laughed with him. “Whatever problems they face in life, our sons will always deal with them in their own individual ways. William will legislate for the problem, John will fight it, and Laurence will trick the problem into solving itself.”
“Whereas Beth will charm it and Jane will torment it, while Margaret…”
He stopped suddenly. Elizabeth turned her head slightly to see what he was looking at and saw that Margaret had appeared on deck, dressed in her nightgown.
“Is she sleepwalking?” Darcy asked.
“I am not sure,” said Elizabeth.
The little girl appeared to be looking at something on the bank.
“Margaret?” asked Elizabeth, rising to her feet.
Her daughter ignored her and padded softly toward the railings, her eyes fixed steadfastly on a point beyond their sight. Her plump cheeks were flushed in a way that Elizabeth was beginning to recognise. In her hands was the doll.
“Meg,” said Darcy, reaching her before Elizabeth and bending down to speak to her. “What is it? Could you not sleep?”
But still Margaret showed no sign of being aware of them.
“She is asleep, Darcy,” Elizabeth whispered. “Take care not to startle her.”
Just then Margaret’s eyelids fluttered open.
“Mama, Papa,” she said and put her arms around her father’s neck.
“What is it, my darling? Did you have a nightmare?”
Margaret rubbed at her eyes with one chubby hand.
“No, but Aahotep wanted to come upstairs. She’s feeling happier now she’s nearly home. She told me she’s missed the sand under her feet.” The little girl giggled. “She went for a run without any shoes on.”
“Aahotep should remember she needs lots of sleep,” said Elizabeth shortly. “Come back to bed now.”
Margaret rubbed her eyes again and nodded. Darcy picked her up and she lay her head against his shoulder.
“Mama,” she said as they began to walk along the deck back to the cabins. “Aahotep is sorry about your parasol.”
“My parasol, darling?”
“Yes. She was angry with you before because you said you were going to take her away from me, so she made the sea ruin it. But I told her off. I said it was your favourite and you would never steal her from me anyway.”
“Of course not, my dear.” Elizabeth and Darcy exchanged worried glances at this statement.
“She is sorry, really,” the little girl insisted. “She told me she does things like that without thinking and then realises afterward that she was wrong. I told her she should count to ten before she does something and then think about it again, and she said she will try. She also said to tell you your dresses are very pretty and suit you even though you are quite old and our clothes are funny shapes.”
“How kind,” Elizabeth said, unsure how to reply to such a queer statement from her youngest daughter, which did not sound like Margaret’s usual language at all.
Margaret yawned.
“Aahotep wants to be kind; she’s just not very good at it. She did something very bad once and she’s been punished for a very long time over it, and now she’s sorry and she’s tired and she wants to go home.”
They had reached the cabins where the girls were sleeping now. Jane was fast asleep in her narrow little bed, and Darcy and Elizabeth crept in silently so as not to disturb her. They slipped their youngest daughter under the netting they had strung up to deter mosquitoes and tucked her in.
Elizabeth kissed her daughter and suddenly asked, “Meg, what was it Aahotep did that was so bad?”
“Aahotep won’t tell me. She says it is not for the ears of the young and innocent.” As she drifted off to sleep, it was almost as though they could hear the words coming from older lips.
Elizabeth and Darcy waited until Margaret’s breathing was light and regular and then they slipped out of the cabin and back onto the deck again. It was now completely dark; stars glittered against the deep velvet black of the mysterious Egyptian night sky, and the moon was visible in all her ghostly white splendour, full and heavy, with the faint outlines of a face grinning at them. Despite the heat Elizabeth shivered.
“Are you cold, my love?” asked Darcy.
“No, but that was… disturbing, was it not?” Elizabeth said to him. “Just for a moment I wondered if Aahotep really spoke to Meg.”
As soon as she said it, she felt foolish. What was she thinking? That the doll was somehow alive? What nonsense! She would find herself believing Edward’s stories about serpents next.
“It was nothing but a bad dream,” said Darcy reassuringly.
Of course, she thought, what else could it have been?
“I wonder if it was even prompted by a guilty conscience,” Darcy went on. “You know how Meg loves to come into our room in the mornings. Perhaps she went into our cabin and opened the portholes for some fresh air, and then forgot about them and felt guilty when the water came in and ruined your parasol. You know how she loved to play with it. And you said yourself that her doll was wet. It was—”
Before he could finish his sentence, there was the sound of muted argument from the servants’ quarters. They turned to see the boat’s captain, the reis, berating his staff roundly. Chastened, the men slunk off.
“What is it?” Darcy enquired.
The reis turned to them.
“Nothing, just some foolish peasants who know no better. They have been telling each other ghost stories, and now one of them swears he has just seen a real ghost. They are stupid, not like we educated people,” he said, sticking out his chest with pride. “They believe the old stories about gods sailing the skies in their ships and wicked magicians and evil spirits. They think there are ghosts everywhere.”
“They were probably dazzled by the moonlight,” Elizabeth said, though she had the curious feeling she was trying to reassure herself and not the reis.
“You are very gracious.”
“What did he see?” Darcy asked curiously.
The reis laughed.
“He imagined he saw a woman running along the bank in the clothes of long ago, with the sand firm beneath her bare feet. She was laughing, he said. And then she disappeared in front of his eyes. No doubt she was being pursued by
a powerful magician and was beautiful and rich too. These peasants and their tales! Good night, effendi,” he said and walked off to continue his duties on the boat.
Darcy and Elizabeth looked at each other.
“It is coincidence, nothing more,” said Darcy at last.
Elizabeth nodded her head vigorously. But even as they returned to their seats on the deck and Elizabeth lay her head once more against Darcy’s shoulder, she could not help but remember Margaret’s words about Aahotep running with delight along the riverbank. Also, unbidden and unwelcome, a line from Edward’s story, told to them in England, echoed in her memory: “…to this day, one can see a mad woman fleeing along the riverbank when the moon is full.”
“Darcy, I think the time has come for us to take the doll away from Meg.”
“You surely cannot believe this folklore and superstition?” he asked.
“I am not sure what I believe,” said Elizabeth. “Out here in the desert anything seems possible. And besides, whatever else, this attachment to the doll cannot be healthy.”
Darcy was about to protest when the memory of his youngest daughter standing by the railings in her thin white shift rose in his mind. It had no doubt been nothing more than a trick of the moonlight, but she had seemed to take on an otherworldly form.
“Very well,” he said. “When we land, we will make sure the doll does not go ashore with us.”
And then he surprised himself by thinking grimly, Whatever sins you may have committed, Madam Aahotep, you will have to find someone else to help you make amends.
Chapter 10
“This is it,” said Edward, the following morning. “This is where we leave the boats and venture into the desert. Is it not magnificent? An endless stretch of golden dunes, stretching as far as the eye can see, and buried beneath it, fabled treasures just there for the taking.”
Darcy made arrangements for the boats to remain close by for the duration of their stay; he wanted to be able to take his family back to Cairo without delay if for any reason their adventure proved unsuitable for his wife and children.
