She did not respond immediately, thinking that it was almost amusing—he was setting up a mighty resistance to the attraction that leapt between them, the intense awareness that made him lose his train of thought while the breath caught in her throat. “I imagine you know the answer better than I—I hope you locked the door behind you in Cornwall.”
An appreciative gleam of amusement appeared in his eyes—they were such a pleasing shade of brown, light with golden highlights. Recalled to the fact that she had just received bad news, she tried to temper her thoughts.
There was a small silence as thunder could be heard in the distance. “Mademoiselle Bing approaches,” he noted, and rose to his feet.
Hattie turned to behold the welcome sight of Bing bearing a woolen shawl—Hattie had been trying not to shiver and thereby spoil this promising tête-à-tête. “Thank you, Bing. Monsieur Berry acts as my parents’ agent in Cairo; in light of the unsettling news, he has come for a visit.”
Bing cast a skeptical eye at the gathering clouds but made no comment, depositing the wrap across Hattie’s shoulders. “Then you will have much to discuss. I shall ring for tea and leave you to it.”
Amused, Hattie made a mental note that Bing had apparently determined Berry was more friend than enemy, although Bing was not aware this guest had his own shortcomings—burglary being among them. “I think not, Bing—it looks to rain.”
But Berry was not to be hinted indoors where there was a danger of being overheard. Instead, he addressed Bing in a deferential manner. “Mademoiselle, my inventory of the Blackhouse effects listed some items which unfortunately I cannot lay hands upon. It would be useful to know if these items actually exist—I would not like to think an unscrupulous person could take advantage of the current situation. I understand your brother was Monsieur Edward Bing.”
“Indeed,” Bing verified with a nod.
“I am sorry for your loss,” the Frenchman offered in all sincerity, but there was a slight undercurrent to the words that Hattie could not quite like. “Did he ever send you anything from the site?”
“Oh, no,” Bing disclaimed immediately. “Edward was not one to keep anything for himself; he strongly believed the artifacts belonged to the world and the appropriate place for them was in a museum—although many others disagreed, and sold them privately.”
“A dedicated man,” agreed Berry in a respectful tone. “Would that there were more like him.”
Bing admitted, “That—and it was important not to displease the local authorities by smuggling away the treasures; after all, the site could be shut down.”
“But I thought the British controlled the sites,” said Hattie in surprise. “My parents certainly seemed to go wherever they wished.”
“No—not the British; at least not as yet,” Bing explained to her. “A viceroy named Muhammad Ali has taken the lead on regional matters since Napoleon’s forces left—but you are correct in that it is only a matter of time before the British reestablish authority in the area. Unfortunately, it is a difficult situation in Egypt—there are treasures to be seized and the French, the British, and the locals are all vying for power over the excavations.”
“You are well informed, mademoiselle,” observed Berry with open approval.
Bing’s lean cheeks turned pink with pleasure. “I followed my brother’s doings quite closely, monsieur.”
Hattie added, “It was Edward who found the Shefrh Lelmelwek—the Glory of Kings. Did you hear of it in Cairo? It was hidden inside an ordinary unguent jar.”
“A very significant find,” Berry agreed. “Word of the discovery spread very quickly.”
I must be paranoid, and seeing a mystery behind every bush, thought Hattie as she eyed him narrowly; but it seems to me there is a certain constraint in his voice when he speaks of the mythical sword, and when he speaks of poor Edward, also. But before she could quiz him on the topic, Berry asked, “By chance, did Monsieur Bing refer to an engraved golden disk—perhaps not very large?” He indicated the small size with his fingers. “It is one of the missing artifacts.”
Bing shook her head with regret, obviously sorry to disappoint her new admirer. “Minor gold items are vulnerable to theft—Edward often decried the work of the tomb raiders.”
“There is also an item that is described as a ‘senet board,’ but I am not certain what is meant.”
Bing was more than willing to enlighten him, being an authority on all things entombed. “It refers to a game board, rather similar to a chessboard, which would be played in the afterlife.”