Daughter of the God-King(54)
“Your help will be much appreciated,” Hattie assured him politely, aware that the gentleman seated across from her refrained from comment.
“It is a shame I must offer you my condolences, Monsieur Tremaine, before I have had the chance to offer my congratulations on your engagement.” Eugenie’s beautiful face was solemn, as was her tone, but Hattie noted her eyes were dancing. Her acquaintanceship with the other woman was not longstanding, but it was long enough to know this was not a good sign.
“I thank you,” Robbie replied, matching her tone. “How does your sister; must I offer condolences also?”
Eugenie laughed and shrugged her pretty shoulders. “Eh bien; she is alive and well, to everyone’s astonishment.”
As though suddenly aware he was leaving Hattie out of the conversation, Robbie turned to her. “What has happened, Hattie—is there any news of your parents?”
“We travel to Thebes tomorrow—and I have been to visit my parents’ solicitor.”
Robbie’s interest sharpened. “What did he report?”
Hattie shook her head to convey her regret. “He was disappointed I could not produce correspondence from them which might have been helpful.”
Artlessly, Robbie shrugged a shoulder as he dug into his beefsteak. “He should not have been surprised—they never corresponded with you very much.”
“No,” she agreed, a bit stricken by the bald statement.
Between bites, Tremaine looked up to her. “Did the solicitor give you funds? Have you enough to mount a search?”
“Yes,” Hattie assured him. “In fact, he wanted me to take control immediately, even though we are not yet certain they are no longer alive—it was a little strange.” Prudently, she didn’t mention the contretemps about the password—although now that Robbie was here, perhaps he should be the person she trusted with the golden disk, instead of Berry. She wanted to trust Berry, but the fact that he had stolen a key to the consulate gave her pause.
“Are you certain you have enough money, Hattie? If you are in need I can stand the ready.”
Although he meant well, Hattie was a bit embarrassed by his heavy-handedness. “Thank you, Robbie, but my parents have provided a bank account for which I am the sole signatory—indeed they have been surprisingly generous.”
A small silence greeted this remark, and Hattie thought they all seemed struck by this arrangement—which certainly wasn’t that unusual, after all. Robbie addressed his plate again and replied, “That is to the good, then. Where is Miss Bing this evening?”
“Suffering from happy exhaustion in our room. She visited the pyramids today with the Minister of Antiquities, and took to her bed upon their return.”
“Mr. Hafez?” asked Robbie, his interest piqued.
“Yes, Mr. Hafez.” Hattie was reminded that Robbie’s late bride’s late husband—honestly, it was all so very confusing—had worked with Hafez. “Do you know him?”
“We met briefly when I visited the site with Madame Auguste. Has he cultivated an acquaintanceship with you?”
Hattie found the choice of words strange, and wondered if Robbie was another who didn’t trust the seemingly innocuous official. “I suppose you could call it that—he and Bing discuss treasures from Abu Simbel and compare cat’s-eye sapphires.”
“Interesting.” Robbie finished up his beefsteak and began in on the stewed figs.
“It is of all things incroyable,” offered Eugenie, miffed.
“Never say you are not included in such discussions, Mademoiselle Valérie,” Robbie teased with a grin.
“Leone,” she corrected him again. “You confuse me with another, n’est-ce pas?”
“Undoubtedly,” he agreed, his blue eyes amused as he drank his wine.
Hattie decided she felt as though she were a child at a table with adults, trying to follow along in the conversation. To turn the subject, she described that day’s visit to the consulate and the procurement of the safe passage, leaving out those incidents of theft which seemed extraneous to the story.
“A good idea, monsieur,” Tremaine turned to compliment Berry in a sincere tone. “I am dashed grateful that you’ve been seeing to Miss Blackhouse in my absence.”
Berry studied his wineglass, his fingers showing white where they were pressed against the stem. “I am happy to be of service.”
Hurriedly, Hattie sought to change the subject and found an object to accomplish this aim. “Why, here is Mr. Hafez, now.”
The minister approached in a distracted fashion, perspiring with the effort of moving his portly frame with as much speed as he could muster. “Miss Blackhouse—forgive my interruption but I am afraid I have most disturbing news.”