Journey to the Lost Tomb (Rowan and Ella Book 2) (10 page)

           
“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.”