by Stacy Henrie
“Hello? Marcus?”
He turned to see his grandmother and Adelle standing in the doorway. Immediately he handed off his brush and moved quickly toward them. Gran met him halfway across the room. There was no polite kissing of his cheeks as there would have been from his British grandmother. Not with Ethel Walters. In spite of being somewhat shy in most situations, she always greeted Marcus with a full and lengthy embrace that never failed to communicate how much she cared.
“Oh, my boy. It’s so good to see you again,” his grandmother said as she eased back to survey him and placed her hand on his dusty cheek. “You look quite in your element down here.”
Marcus smiled. “It’s splendid to see you too, Gran.”
Nearby, Adelle studied the activity around them with sparkling blue eyes. They reminded Marcus of another pair of blue eyes that had once looked upon every stretch of Egypt with this same rapt attention. Though why a memory of Syble should come to his mind in this moment, he couldn’t say.
He extended his hand toward Adelle, which she clasped warmly between her own hands. “Welcome back to the tomb, Adelle. What do you think of her?”
“What do I think?” She shook her head, her full smile matching his. “I think you’ve worked wonders here, Marcus.”
“Thank you.”
Adelle released him and moved toward one of the walls. After greeting the workers in halting Arabic, she glanced back at Marcus and his grandmother. “Come look at these exquisite hieroglyphs, Ethel.”
“Are the others waiting outside?” Marcus asked, glancing toward the doorway. The formidable Florence Arthur and the cheerful Rose Herbert couldn’t be far behind the other two. He thoroughly liked all three of Gran’s friends and was grateful she had such loyal companions for their various travels around the world.
He caught the silent look that passed between Gran and Adelle, but he had no idea what it meant. Not surprisingly, Adelle answered his question. She had long been the group’s leader. “Florence and Rose were a bit tired, so they chose to wait for us back at the hotel. They’re with our…fifth companion.”
“Ah.” The addition of another member to their group was news to Marcus. The women had been a tight-knit band of four for so long. “Have you agreed to let someone else join your ranks at last?”
The two women traded gazes again. “Sort of,” Gran said with a slight frown.
“She’s a temporary addition,” Adelle explained. “And far younger than any of us. But seeing as we aren’t as agile as we once were, we thought it would be helpful to have an extra, steadier pair of hands to assist us this time around.”
Marcus dipped his chin in a thoughtful nod. “What a capital idea.”
“Do you really think so?” His grandmother smiled proudly at him as if Marcus himself had come up with the plan.
“Of course.” A feeling of confusion, of missing some critical detail, nudged at him, but he dismissed it after a few seconds. There were other, more important things to do and discuss. Motioning to one of the inner doorways, he asked, “Would you like to see the progress we’ve made inside the burial chamber?”
Adelle clapped her gloved hands together. “Absolutely. Lead the way, Marcus.”
He advised them to be mindful of their long skirts as they squeezed past the workers carrying out baskets of sand. Adelle studied the room with keen interest, remarking on how much the crew had accomplished. Then Marcus led them back to the antechamber and into the annex room. Again, he and his crew had found few objects within this room, beyond some broken urns. But the cleared space still represented another feature of Egyptian architecture, and his grandmother and Adelle looked the room over with the same appreciation Marcus did. Afterward, the two examined the hieroglyphs in the antechamber more thoroughly, while Marcus did his best to explain what some of the symbols meant.
Marcus finished giving them a full tour of the tomb, then translated for Adelle as she spoke to some of the crew. By then it was time for the pair to return to Luxor. Given that it was nearly the weekend, Marcus opted to go with them and join the entire group for dinner, since the women were staying in the same hotel where he maintained a room.
During the week, he didn’t mind camping in a tent in the desert—in fact, he preferred the closer proximity to the dig site. However, there were two things Marcus looked forward to each weekend, and that was sleeping in an actual bed and being able to wash in more than a hip bath.
The hotel accommodations and food were impeccable too, and this time he would have the added pleasure of congenial, familiar company while dining. He was still eager to learn the details of Adelle’s exciting proposition too. Marcus wasn’t sure why she hadn’t yet broached the subject, but perhaps she was waiting until they sat down to dinner and could talk uninterrupted.
Once he was back inside his hotel room, Marcus scrubbed his tanned face and arms. It was glorious to have use of a sink and tub again. He changed into his dinner suit, which felt as stiff as it usually did after a week of working in plain clothes. This set of work attire would go to the hotel’s laundry service and would be waiting for him at the end of next week, cleaned and pressed and ready for another five days at the dig site.
Marcus eyed himself in the mirror and straightened his tie. He’d had his hair cut before coming to Egypt, but the jumbled black curls would likely be long again before he returned to London. After taking off his glasses, he carefully wiped away the day’s smudges. Then he set them back on his nose and nodded at his reflection. Properly dressed and tidy once more, he was ready for dinner—and whatever new idea Adelle had in mind.
He reached the hotel dining room ahead of the others. After making arrangements for a table that would comfortably fit all six of them around it, Marcus took his seat and perused the menu as he waited for the ladies’ arrival. A few minutes later, they appeared, Adelle leading the entourage—though they appeared to be short a member. Their new, young companion had not come down with them. Standing, Marcus greeted Adelle and his grandmother first.
“Don’t you look so handsome in your suit,” Gran said, patting his cheek. “But…I suppose you looked handsome earlier, too, in your work clothes. Didn’t you?” Concern flitted across her lined face in a familiar look of worry—she feared she had said something amiss or potentially unkind.
He smiled with quick reassurance. “Thank you, Gran. You look lovely too. I have always liked you in pink.” She returned his smile as he pulled out a chair for her.
“Some might think that compliment insincere,” Adelle said, pulling out her own chair. “But we all know that with Marcus, such flattery is completely heartfelt.”
Rose Herbert laughed at her friend’s remark and accepted Marcus’s kiss to her cheek. “What a pleasure to see you again, Marcus. Such exciting things you’re doing here in Egypt.”
“Humph,” Florence Arthur huffed as she drew alongside him. “If you ask me, it’s too dry here, no matter the season.” Her sour look softened when she squeezed Marcus’s hand in a genuine gesture of affection. He’d learned long ago that beneath her prickly, often cynical exterior, Florence was actually quite clever and compassionate. “It’s been far too long, Marcus.”
He nodded agreement. “That it has. It’s good to see you, Florence.” Marcus glanced past her. “Is your newest companion joining us?”
“She was momentarily detained,” Adelle answered. As Marcus helped Rose and Florence with their chairs, the four widows exchanged a veiled glance. “I’m sure she’ll be joining us shortly.”
Marcus returned to his own seat, Gran and Adelle on his right and Florence and Rose on his left. Whoever their companion was, she would have to take the empty chair directly across the round table from him.
He asked the women about their trip from America to Cairo and the train ride from there to Luxor. Every few seconds, one of them would eye the entrance to the dining room, though their reactions varied when they did. Florence appeared impatient, Rose hopeful, Adelle confident, and his grandmothe
r nervous. Once again, he had the distinct impression he was missing something.
When five minutes had stretched to ten and their companion had still not appeared, Adelle announced that perhaps they should go ahead and order. Marcus signaled a waiter. Florence shared her order first, then the waiter moved on to Rose.
Marcus waited to go last, his gaze moving from one widow to the next as they ordered their food. Then it was his turn. With his focus on the menu, he sensed more than saw someone come up behind the waiter.
“I’m sorry I’m so late,” a feminine voice said, her tone as apologetic as it was exasperated. “But that’s what happens when the four of you insist that I need to wear a different dress.” Marcus still couldn’t see her well from where she was standing, beyond a swatch of blue and a hand resting on a slender hip. “If that wasn’t bad enough, you abandoned me to do up these tiny buttons in the back by myself. I finally had to find a maid to help.”
The waiter finished taking Marcus’s order, then turned to the newcomer. “What would you like to eat, miss?”
“Oh, yes. Let me see.”
The four widows were talking among themselves as their young companion took a seat in the empty chair and lifted her menu high enough that it covered most of her face. After the waiter had noted her request, he collected all of the menus and stepped away. Only then did the young woman peer around the table at the group. When her gaze stopped on Marcus, her blue eyes widened in plain shock and her cheeks flushed with sudden color.
“Marcus Brandt? What are you doing here?”
The hum of conversation around the table died at once as he stared in disbelief at the figure seated across from him. “Syble?” he choked out.
She hardly resembled the girl she’d once been—not in her fitted gown and pearl necklace, her hair styled at the back of her head. Yet there was enough familiarity in the downward turn of those pink lips and the stubborn set of her chin for him to recognize that this was undeniably Syble Rinecroft.
“Nana? What is going on?” Syble asked with a frown.
Marcus turned to Gran. “Is Syble your group’s young companion?” Why had no one bothered to tell him?
Ignoring her granddaughter’s question, Adelle turned a full smile on Marcus. “You remember Syble, don’t you, Marcus?”
“Indeed I do.” He offered a polite nod as he fought a wave of irritation. Some warning would have been appreciated. It would have given him time to prepare for coming face to face with Syble again. “A pleasure to see you, Miss Rinecroft.” The words felt wrong against his tongue. “How are you?”
She narrowed her eyes at him as if she’d perceived his hidden annoyance, then she straightened in her chair. “I’m well. Thank you. What a pleasure to see you too, Mr. Brandt.”
“I was not aware you were coming to Egypt.”
“Nor was I aware that you were here,” she countered.
Adelle attempted a laugh, though it sounded forced. Marcus’s grandmother chewed on her lip, while Rose beamed at him and Florence rolled her eyes. “Now that we’re all here, we can finally discuss our exciting project,” Adelle said, motioning to Gran. “Ethel, why don’t you start by sharing your plan with Marcus?”
“Uh…yes.” Gran fiddled with her napkin, her nervous movements a contrast to what her friend clearly considered happy news. “You see, Adelle was thinking. Or rather, I was…”
Marcus reached out and covered her hand with his own. “What is it, Gran?”
With a nod of encouragement from Adelle, his grandmother finally dropped the napkin and looked at him directly. “I want to fund a dig in Egypt. Like Adelle has.”
“That would be marvelous,” he said with an astonished chuckle. “To begin, you’ll need to select where you wish to excavate. Then you must procure the needed license—”
Adelle jumped in. “That’s all been taken care of, my boy. Ethel bought a license from an archaeologist who has, unfortunately, become too ill to continue excavating in the area.”
“Oh?” Marcus looked between the two women. “You have a site already chosen, then?” If he wasn’t to advise them on the licensing process or where to excavate, he wasn’t sure how their plan involved him. Perhaps they hoped he would help them hire a crew?
Syble, who was no longer throwing daggered looks at him from across the table, joined the conversation. “We don’t know the exact location to begin digging, but we do have a map. We showed it to a professor in Cairo who believes it dates back to the early 1800s. He identified the general area to be somewhere in the vicinity of ancient Thebes.”
“In Thebes?” he echoed in disbelief. “Could the man have been any less specific? There are numerous places to excavate in those hills on the West Bank.”
“I’m confident we’ll figure out the exact location.” Syble folded her arms. “After all, the map has plenty of clues and drawings to help us.”
A feeling of uneasiness churned inside Marcus’s stomach, crowding out his exasperation. It was the same feeling he had whenever he realized he had been digging in the wrong place or had missed some critical detail. “How did you come to be in possession of this map?”
“I found it,” Syble said, her head tilting upward in defense and determination.
The movement was slight, and yet it mirrored one Marcus had seen in the past—and that was enough to cause remembering to crash over him. There’d been a map inside the urn Syble had bought that day in the bazaar. A map he’d felt quite certain had to be a fake.
“It’s the one from the urn you bought at that bazaar.” He didn’t phrase it as a question, but Syble nodded anyway. “Did you tell them the story of how you came to have it?” If she hadn’t, he would share it with them now. He wasn’t going to let Gran be swindled into something involving a fake map.
Syble raised an imperious eyebrow at him. “I did tell them, and that’s why we’re here.” She spread her arms wide enough that she nearly smacked Florence, who scowled at her.
“There is a high likelihood, Gran, that this map does not actually lead to anything at all.”
From the corner of his eye, he saw Syble glower at him. “You don’t know that,” she retorted.
“How does it possibly make sense,” Marcus said, leaning forward, his arms resting on the tablecloth, “that a map dating from the early 1800s happens to be inside an urn that’s supposed to be thousands of years old?”
Syble matched his stance, her eyes full of blue flame. “It doesn’t have to make sense. Somehow the map and the urn ended up together. And even the professor thought—”
The shrill sound of a whistle from Florence silenced the debate between them. It also drew the attention of nearly every other patron in the dining room. Marcus flinched with embarrassment. He’d let himself get carried away in arguing with Syble, to the point that Florence had felt the need to use drastic measures to quiet them both.
“Worse than a pair of fighting felines,” Florence grumbled. “Now, we aren’t here to prove the veracity of the map, Marcus.” She skewered him with a look that made him squirm. “If we do find something, we find something, and that will be proof enough. However, Ethel has agreed to take that risk.”
“Exactly,” Syble affirmed.
Florence wasn’t finished yet. “You’re not off the hook either, Syble. You need to get a grasp on your temper as well. Remember that we need Marcus.”
“Excuse me?” He shook his head in confusion.
Rose took up the narrative next. “As an archaeologist, you’ve worked on a number of digs already, Marcus,” she said cheerfully. “So you have experience that the rest of us don’t. You also speak Arabic and are familiar with ancient maps.”
“Wait a moment.” Syble’s eyes had grown large again, though this time they were filled with near panic. “Is he the archaeologist you were talking about helping us, Nana?”
Marcus studied the five of them. “Am I missing something?”
“He’s one of the best archaeologists in Egypt at present,” Ade
lle said to her granddaughter.
While he appreciated the compliment, Marcus still didn’t understand what they were asking of him. “What exactly would you like me to do?”
The answer came from his grandmother. “We’re hoping you’ll join us on this new dig, Marcus.”
“But…” He threw Adelle an appealing look. “My time is already spoken for. You saw how close I am to reaching the treasury room.” A discovery—a real discovery—most likely awaited him behind that last door, while this other dig would surely turn out to be nothing more than a wild-goose chase. Especially if it involved Syble’s notorious map. “Can’t the other wait?”
“Of course it can.” The strong agreement came from Syble. “In the meantime, we’ll find another archaeologist to help us with your dig, Ethel.”
Gran shot him a hopeful glance, as if she hadn’t heard Syble. “I know it’s a lot to ask…”
“And you are close to a breakthrough on the other dig,” Adelle added. “However, I, for one, want to focus on helping with Ethel’s dig right now.”
Marcus pushed up his glasses in order to rub at his eyes. The five of them were wearing him down faster with this conversation than he felt after a full day of working at the tomb. Well, except for Syble. Ironically, she was the only one on his side, since she didn’t want him to be involved any more than he did.
With how close he was to reaching the treasury, did they really believe he would wish to change projects? Doing so would necessitate covering up the tomb’s entrance to keep it undisturbed until he returned. And the thought of covering up what he’d worked so hard to clear left Marcus feeling slightly ill.
What if he declined to help? Would Adelle no longer fund his project? Marcus didn’t have the sort of money on his own to pay the crew to continue clearing the tomb. And what would happen to the five of them if he wasn’t there to help them navigate the hiring of a crew and communicating with the workers? Adelle spoke a little Arabic, but she was nowhere near fluent enough to manage an entire operation without a translator. Besides, the crew Marcus trusted the most were currently employed on his dig.
