“I would not be surprised. You were going to tell me of your conversation with the solicitor.”
“Which conversation is that, monsieur?”
But he was in no mood for teasing. “These are dangerous people,” he reminded her quietly. “Make no mistake.”
Suddenly exasperated, she retorted, “But I am not to know who they are or why they are dangerous or what any of this has to do with me. I will hear no more of your dire warnings, if you please.” Angrily, she turned a shoulder on him.
Bing glanced at her in surprise and Hattie realized she had spoken out too loudly. Subsiding, she refused to look at Berry and tried to pay attention to the tiresome details under discussion—for the love of heaven, what difference did any of it make? It was thirty centuries ago—let the poor girl molder in her tomb and have done. Realizing that Bing was hastily gathering her things in preparation to depart, she was ashamed of herself for interrupting her companion’s tête-à-tête with her new admirer and so to repair this lapse she asked, “Will you visit the pyramids, Bing? Perhaps Mr. Hafez can make a recommendation.”
“Assuredly,” the minister beamed as he contemplated Bing. “I will insist upon organizing a private tour for you—I can see to it that you will receive every consideration. Would tomorrow be too soon?”
“I’m afraid I am too fatigued,” confessed Hattie, who had never been fatigued in her life. “I intend to catch up on my correspondence tomorrow in my room.”
Bing firmly delivered her regrets. “Thank you, Mr. Hafez, but I am a companion to Miss Blackhouse and I cannot leave her unattended.”
Taking her cue, Hattie urged, “Please go ahead, Bing. I will stay indoors and do some reading—I truly do not intend to go out tomorrow.” Definitely nowhere with any overly secretive and extremely vexing persons who did not hail from France; that went without saying.
Bing was thus persuaded and despite her annoyance with him, Hattie shot an amused glance at Berry as her companion took the minister’s proffered arm when they began to head back to the hotel. He leaned down to remark, “Here is an unexpected turn of events.”
Hattie unbent enough to comment, “Perhaps I shall be called upon to chaperone my chaperone.”
“She would tell him nothing she shouldn’t?”
Thinking it over, Hattie realized there was every possibility. Setting aside her pique, she conceded, “Perhaps. Edward relayed some information in confidence.”
“You might wish to caution her, then,” he advised, his expression unreadable.
Hattie eyed him. “Are you saying the Egyptian minister is another to be included in your lengthy list of dangerous people?”
“At the risk of incurring your wrath again, I will only say it is best to remain cautious.”
Hattie made a sound of extreme impatience, but said nothing further. She regretted losing her temper with him and knew she was on edge because she wasn’t certain what to do; she had been pinning her now-dashed hopes on her parents’ loathsome solicitor and to add to her dilemma, the mysterious strongbox had apparently made an appearance.
“What is it?” he asked softly, watching her.
“Nothing,” she replied, and wished it were true.
Chapter 18
“We may have solved the problem of what is to be done with you, Bing.”
Her companion, always straightforward, did not pretend to misunderstand the reference. “A very nice man—we have a common interest, is all.” Hattie could not help but note that the other’s cheeks were a bit pink.
They were preparing for bed in their chamber after spending a satisfactory afternoon exploring the bazaars and making a few frivolous purchases. Berry had been in dutiful attendance and had taken every opportunity to guide Hattie with a hand on the small of her back on those occasions when Bing was unable to observe such a maneuver. There had been no mention of the solicitor, her missing parents, or the tedious mummy and as a result of this combination of happy events Berry was now back in her good graces.
“Are the plans to see the pyramids in train?” Hattie had a keen interest in the excursion; she gauged that with Bing in distant Giza she would hopefully soon feel more than Berry’s warm hand on her back. It has been seven days since his apology on the ship and she was aware, in the way that women are, that his self-imposed restraint was fast coming to an end.
With a brisk movement, Bing shook out her coverlet. “Yes—we are to meet downstairs tomorrow morning. You are most welcome to join us, Hathor, if you change your mind.”
“Heavens, Bing; I would be bored beyond imagining and therefore likely to cut the visit short—a most unsatisfactory gooseberry.”