Elizabeth looked round at the bare walls, but noticed with pleasure the rug on the floor.
“A mixture of goat, sheep, and camel wool,” said Sir Matthew, following Elizabeth’s gaze. “Not as fine as the rugs you have at home, I am sure, but colourful and attractive in their own way.”
There was a bed and a washstand with a bowl and jug and space for hanging clothes. It was indeed sparse when compared to Pemberley, but Elizabeth glanced at Darcy and knew she could be happy with him anywhere. She caught his gaze and knew that he was thinking the same.
Sir Matthew led them on, showing them the rooms where the finds were kept. Most of them were pieces of pottery, but here and there were small daggers and the like, and the glint of gold.
“We found these in the desert not long since,” said Sir Matthew, picking up one of the necklaces. “A pretty trinket, no more. The tomb it came from had been plundered many times and only a few, small pieces remained.”
The passed through into another room, which housed an easel and various artistic equipment.
“Mr Waite, our artist. He makes a pictorial record of every object found.”
Elizabeth was amused to see the two artists eyeing each other, but after a short conversation, when it became apparent that Sir Matthew’s artist had no interest in portraiture or landscapes—indeed, regarded them as frippery wastes of time—the two men seemed content to take their own similar, but different, places in the expedition.
“And then there are the bones,” said Sir Matthew.
“Bones?” asked Laurence, his attention caught.
“Yes, bones. I thought that might interest you, young sir. We have found a great many bones, and we have found mummies as well.”
Laurence’s eyes grew wide with delight.
“Would you like to see them?” asked Sir Matthew.
The girls declined, but Laurence looked as though the world held no greater pleasure, and Sir Matthew dispatched the boys with a trusted assistant to view the grisly remains.
Beth and Jane soon tired of the adults’ conversation and began to run about, glad to be able to stretch their legs after their long hours of riding. Elizabeth looked affectionately after them, her pleasure in the sight bittersweet, as she knew that Beth was already leaving such pleasures behind and that, before long, her eldest daughter would regard it as beneath her to play in such a carefree manner. Already, much of the time, Beth was conscious of her dignity and refused to play with the younger children, but there were still moments when she reverted to her childish ways and Elizabeth relished them, knowing they would soon be gone.
Only Meg remained with the adults. She had fallen asleep and was now being carried in Darcy’s arms.
Soon Mrs Bennet, too, tired of the conversation. As they went into the courtyard she sat down in the shade and wafted herself with her hand, too hot to speak. Another of Sir Matthew’s colleagues, with Egyptian features but wearing English dress, saw her perspiring brow and brought her a fan made of palm leaves. She was about to take it, but he shook his head with a smile and wafted it to and fro himself. Mrs Bennet, never slow to appreciate a handsome young man, flirted with him in a way which would have made Lydia proud.
Elizabeth and Darcy exchanged long-suffering glances and then, with Edward, they followed Sir Matthew round the rest of the site as he showed them what a difference their patronage had made.
“Having such well-connected sponsors has helped me to attract many more, and now, as you can see, we are well provided for here, with all the necessary tools and with plenty of space to store our findings,” he said, showing them a simple, but well-organised, room of tools. Then they moved on. “In this room we examine our finds and decide which to keep for further study and which to send back to England. I have already shipped three crates of artefacts to the British Museum since seeing you last, and now, with your further help,” he said, bowing to Edward and Darcy, “I intend to send them many more.”
“We are all looking forward to seeing your Egyptian room at the museum when it is finished. It seems a long time since we saw you there,” Elizabeth said, recalling the gloomy room into which they had stumbled in the spring.
“You would scarcely recognise it; it is already taking shape, thanks to your generosity. Several funerary urns and statuettes have already joined the frieze of Aahotep.” He turned to Edward. “Are you still determined to look for her fabled tomb, young man, or have you accepted that the real treasures are the artefacts which show us how the ancient Egyptians lived? The map you have is nothing more than a madman’s delusion, I assure you, and if you continue to believe in it you will be disappointed. These maps of undisturbed tombs are found everywhere in the bazaars of Egypt, always marking the location of a fabulous treasure and always being sold to the unwary for a fabulous price.”
“Map?” asked Darcy, looking at Edward intently. “You did not tell me about the map.”
Edward looked uncomfortable.
“Ah,” said Sir Matthew. “It seems I have made a faux pas. I thought you knew.”
“Knew what?” asked Elizabeth.
“That your cousin is not just here to learn more about ancient Egypt; he is here for a purpose,” said Sir Matthew. “But I have said enough.”
“Edward?” asked Darcy, setting Margaret down gently on a chair, for she had started to stir. “Is there anything you would like to tell us?”
“Nothing at all,” said Edward, though he looked even more uncomfortable as he said it.
“You are not really thinking of searching for the tomb our fathers tried to find?” asked Darcy.
“And what if I am? Is it not worth finding?” he demanded.
“That map is meaningless. Believing in it broke our fathers’ health, and it will break yours, too.”
“No,” said Edward. “Because I know something our fathers did not. I know the meaning of some of the hieroglyphs that decorate the map, thanks to the work of Thomas Young and his like—I have been in correspondence with them—and thanks, too, to my own endeavours. I have already discovered that the city marked on the map is Cairo and not Luxor, as our fathers thought, and so when I found that Sir Matthew was already excavating in the area, I went to see him in London and enlisted his help.”
“Which I gave you on the understanding you would not place too much reliance on the thought of finding an undisturbed tomb, and on the veracity of your map,” said Sir Matthew uneasily.
“Then you have found the map,” said Darcy. “And all this time you have said nothing about it. But where did you come across it?”
“It was in the attic, along with a portrait of our fathers, and the queer little doll that Margaret so loves.”
“That map claimed a year of our fathers’ time, and it very nearly claimed their lives,” said Darcy. “They searched for the tomb repeatedly but found nothing except illness and accident.”
“If you only knew what I know you would think differently,” Edward said, his enthusiasm overcoming his embarrassment. “Look!”
He took a piece of parchment out of the pocket of his jacket, which he had worn throughout their long, hot journey from Cairo. When he spread it on the table they could see the markings on it.
“Here is an oasis, and here the river,” said Edward, pointing out the landmarks. “Exactly as we have found them.”
“An oasis and a river,” said Darcy. “Egypt is full of spots like that. And even if you were certain, the map is not clear enough to be of any use. The last third is missing, and it is the last third which pinpointed the exact spot of this supposed tomb.”
“I am sure it is here,” said Edward doggedly. “It is not only the map; it is everything else as well. When I heard Sir Matthew’s frieze of Aahotep was found near here, I was certain it was significant, as that was the name of the doll our fathers brought home. The frieze, the doll, and the map are all connected. Do you not see? I am convinced she is somehow connected to the undiscovered tomb, and in all probability it is the tomb of the wealthy people she murdered.”
“I see nothing of the kind,” said Darcy. “It is a tenuous connection at best, and at worst it is madness, the same sort of madness which infected our fathers. I am sorry now I agreed to help you.”
“You will not be sorry when we find the tomb and fill Pemberley full of its marvels,” said Edward. “Or when there is a Darcy collection at the British Museum. Only think what we will be giving to the world, as well as…” He trailed away.
“As well as?” Darcy prompted him.
“Oh, well…” Edward gave an awkward laugh. “As well as the treasures we will collect for ourselves. I know you do not need treasure, Darcy, but it is different for me. I have an allowance, of course, and it does very well for the moment, but I am a younger son, and a younger son must make his way in the world. He is so positioned that he has expensive tastes but not the means of satisfying them.”
“I seem to remember your brother saying something similar at Rosings many years ago,” said Elizabeth.
“I am not surprised. But he was lucky in the end. He fell in love with Anne, and Anne had enough fortune for the two of them. But S—” He stopped suddenly.
“But Sophie does not?” asked Elizabeth. “That is what you were going to say, is it not?”
He could not deny it.
“Are your feelings for her serious, then? You are not simply amusing yourself with her or trying to raise her spirits after her unhappy love affair?”
“No, I am not simply amusing myself, and yes, my feelings are serious,” he admitted. “There is something about Sophie,” he said, glancing toward her as she played with the children. “It is not just that she is pretty, although she is very, very pretty, nor just her sweet nature. There is something about her that makes me want to spend my time with her more than anyone else. When we are together, I feel differently about everything. The world seems better and brighter, and so do I. She is the only woman in the world I want to marry.”
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