“Unfair,” she laughed. “Your wretched brother James threw it in.”
“As I recall, Papa gave him a whipping as a result.”
“And well deserved.”
They stood together in companionable silence, watching the water. “Would you jump?” he teased.
Assessing the distance, Hattie considered. “It is a longer drop than from the bridge on the River Fal—I’m not sure I would. You?”
“Without hesitation.” He shook his head in a mock reprimand. “Fie, Hattie—you were always so fearless.”
“I’ve grown old and decorous,” she agreed in a grave tone. Berry would jump, she thought. He has already jumped to and from the balcony with little effort—and if he jumped into the Nile I suppose I would jump right in after him. She wondered if Berry could swim and guessed that he could; I would like to swim with him, she thought, and felt a heat that had little to do with the hot sun.
Glancing toward the stern, she spied Hafez walking with Eugenie. He appeared to be explaining something to her whilst she paid rapt attention and clung to his arm. Ah, she thought; here is her task—my poor Bing stands little chance, although I truly do not think her heart is at risk. Thinking to tease Robbie, she indicated the couple with an arch look. “Best look lively.”
He glanced at her warily, trying to gauge the tenor of her remark. “I have no interest there—far from it.”
“Oh,” she said easily, looking back at them. “I was mistaken, then.”
Robbie noted in a neutral tone, “She seems very friendly with Monsieur Berry.”
“Yes,” Hattie agreed. “It certainly seems that way.”
Robbie bent his head for a moment and contemplated his hands on the railing. “I wanted to mention something to you—now, don’t fly up in the boughs, Hattie—but perhaps you should keep him at arm’s length, so to speak.”
Hattie feigned ignorance. “Monsieur Berry, you mean?”
Meeting her gaze with his own, he nodded. “His manner toward you borders on the proprietary, sometimes.”
She teased, “He is French, after all—perhaps it comes naturally.”
“Perhaps,” he agreed, treading carefully. “But you are such an innocent, Hattie—I only wanted to mention it, so that you are made aware.”
Not so very innocent, thought Hattie, hiding a smile—and shockingly ready to be made less so. “Do you think him a fortune-hunter, then?”
“No—not at all. It’s just that we know so little about him.”
She gently pointed out, “He was my parents’ agent, Robbie; and it does appear they trusted him completely.”
Nodding his head in acknowledgment, her companion nonetheless cautioned, “I know. But I must stand as your protector on this journey—you have no one else, after all.”
“Then you should not goad me to leap into the Nile, if you please.”
He laughed, and they were easy again. Until, that is, he asked in a causal manner, “Have you had an opportunity to ask him if he is aware of a strongbox?”
Hattie only shook her head whilst grinding her teeth.
Chapter 26
That evening, their party dined with three other passengers to make up the table of ten. Mr. Canton was a jovial Englishman in the best tradition, who took Hattie’s hand with great interest. “Are you related to the famous Egyptologists?”
“I am,” she replied, and hoped her smile didn’t wobble. “I am their daughter.”
“What a happy chance, to have met you—I am financing a dig in Abu Simbel and I follow their work with great interest.”
Apparently he had not heard the latest news and so Hattie only nodded, trying to decide whether she should explain that they were missing or put if off and hope it needn’t be revealed—in the end she decided to put it off.
“Do you join them?” the gentleman asked, clearly presuming that this was the case.
Unsure of how to respond, she temporized, “I hope to.”
Bing came to her rescue by interjecting smoothly, “What dig do you finance, Mr. Canton?”
“The Temple of Amenophis,” he explained. Somewhat abashed, he added, “I’ve made precious little profit, but I find the subject fascinating.”
“An expensive hobby,” nodded his fond wife, who sat by his side and methodically buttered her bread.
The gentleman explained, “The authorities hold you hostage—charging fees or requiring concessions that are nothing short of extortion. It hardly matters, though—I live to see what is under the next sand dune.”
“I completely understand,” said Bing. “I follow the subject very closely, myself.”