Berry firmly took her arm and led her up the steps to the consulate. “Come along, Mademoiselle Blackhouse.”
A low murmuring broke from the crowd as they walked up the steps to the consulate. “They have seen the likeness of the god-king’s daughter,” Hattie deduced as she hurried beside him. She was surprised by the strength of the vendors’ reaction—surprised and a bit shaken, truth to tell.
“Yes—and they are probably selling them as well. Try to refrain from sending forth a curse, as I cannot answer for the consequences.”
Appreciating his attempt to make light of the situation, she tried to match his easy tone. “Would that I could.”
As he held the door, she crossed under his arm and he remarked, “There is no question that you can bewitch, mademoiselle.” Pausing, she met his gaze and they shared a mutual reminiscence of stolen embraces.
“Allons, you two,” prodded Eugenie crossly. “It is no time for the sheep’s eyes.”
Once inside, they were met by a soldier who ushered the party into a marble-floored anteroom where a clerk presided at an imposing desk, the atmosphere suddenly very British in direct contrast to the disorganized chaos outside. The clerk rose as Berry presented Hattie. “I am the Blackhouse agent, and this is Mademoiselle Blackhouse, here to arrange a search for her parents in Thebes.”
His words had an immediate effect, and the clerk nearly goggled as he reverently took her hand. “Miss Blackhouse—it is an honor. Please accept my”—the clerk caught himself—“sincere hope that your parents will be rescued.”
“Thank you,” said Hattie, her conscience stung by the implied condolences. Perhaps she should make an effort to appear more grief-stricken and less sheep-eyed.
“Allow me to inform the undersecretary that you are here; I am certain he will wish to speak with you immediately.” With a respectful gesture, he indicated they were to enter an adjacent waiting room and be seated, and refreshments were promptly offered. He then hurried away, his footsteps echoing importantly on the marble floor.
“I can see now why we do not apply to the French consulate,” remarked Hattie in a wry tone. “I am a princess and a legacy, combined.”
“‘Legacy’—I do not know what this means.” Eugenie pursed her full lips in puzzlement.
Hattie explained, “I am a famous daughter.”
Eugenie’s reaction was to smile in her rather annoying, condescending way. “De vrai; you are indeed.” She then glanced at Berry, who made a gesture with his head toward the door, as though calling Eugenie to task.
An older gentleman, very distinguished and diplomatic in manner, entered the room and immediately approached Eugenie to bow over her hand. “Miss Blackhouse.”
“You mistake—this is Miss Blackhouse,” Berry corrected him, indicating Hattie. Eugenie giggled and simpered foolishly behind her fan in a manner that was very unlike her, provoking a sharp look from Hattie as she took the gentleman’s hand.
Introductions were made and the undersecretary said all that was proper about Hattie’s tragic situation. Hattie noted, however, that his eyes kept straying to Eugenie, who used her own eyes and fan to advantage. I wonder what our object is here, Hattie thought; whatever it is, this poor man stands no chance.
Upon being informed of the planned trip up the Nile, the undersecretary assured Hattie he would do everything in his power to offer aid. “Regrettable business.” He sadly shook his head. “To have disappeared without a trace.”
Berry pressed the point. “The Minister of Antiquities will accompany us; he reports that his own attempts to obtain information at the time of the disappearance were met with resistance—brigands, I understand.”
The undersecretary frowned in disapproval. “Is that so? I’ll admit that lawlessness has been a recurring problem in the area—not unexpected, considering the treasures being unearthed. I can ask for an increase in security personnel at our embassy’s facility in Al Karnak in anticipation of your visit—indeed, if you’d like, personnel can be directly assigned to your party.”
But this was not, apparently, the solution which was sought. “An excellent suggestion,” Berry bowed in appreciation. “However, perhaps posting British guards at the tomb site would be most helpful—there would be little question of loyalty to Mademoiselle Blackhouse.”
“True.” The man nodded, thinking. “I have already heard concerns that the Egyptian guards look the other way in exchange for bribes. Very good—I will see to it; there can be no objection—not with Miss Blackhouse on site—the local authorities must defer in this matter.” Upon voicing this resolution he was rewarded with a warm smile from Eugenie, which caused him to lose his train of thought.