“You know that she likes Mr Inkworthy?”

“I do,” said Edward, sounding glum, then he brightened. “But, fortunately, Inkworthy is not in a position to marry any more than I am. But when I find the tomb—”

“If you find the tomb,” said Darcy.

“Very well, if I find the tomb. But why should I not? Sir Matthew has found some promising signs of a tomb located nearby.” He turned to Sir Matthew. “Now that you cannot deny.”

“No, I cannot,” said Sir Matthew.

“It is there somewhere, Darcy; I can feel it.”

Elizabeth was growing fatigued by the heat and sat down. Sir Matthew, noticing it, said, “Gentlemen, might I suggest some refreshments before you continue your discussion?”

“A good idea,” said Darcy.

Elizabeth gratefully accepted. Turning to her daughter, who had wandered over to the map and was studying it intently, she said, “Come, Margaret, let us find something to drink.”

Margaret seemed not to hear her. Instead, she leaned over the map and studied it with even more innocent intensity. Sir Matthew smiled, charmed by her interest.

“Do you like the pictures, my dear?” he asked kindly.

Margaret looked up, a stern expression on her face. “They’re not pictures; they’re writing.”

“Indeed they are. We call them hieroglyphs and many great men have spent years trying to decipher their meanings.”

Margaret nodded almost casually. “That’s Ammon and that’s Husn. We’re here at last. Aahotep is very pleased.”

Sir Matthew looked at her curiously.

“What did you say, my dear?” he asked.

“This is the place where Ammon and Husn are. Aahotep is very happy you’re all here.” She yawned suddenly.

Elizabeth was disappointed that thoughts of Aahotep had not been left behind, even if the doll had not travelled with them, but reasoned that it would take some days, or even weeks, for Margaret to forget the doll entirely.

“Meg is tired after her long journey,” Elizabeth said.

“I have no doubt that is true, Mrs Darcy,” Sir Matthew replied. “Nevertheless, I would very much like to know where she heard those words.”

“Why? Do they mean anything to you?” asked Elizabeth. “I confess, they mean nothing to me.”

“They are names. Egyptian names.”

Edward, whose finger still traced the hieroglyphs, said, “It could be the meaning of these hieroglyphs here. Some of the pictures we have already deciphered fit in with those names. But there is no way Margaret could have known.”

He looked at her with a perplexed frown.

“Tell me, where did you hear those names, my dear?” asked Sir Matthew.

“It was Aahotep,” said Margaret, holding up her doll. “She told me.”

Elizabeth blanched. The doll Margaret was holding up was not her new doll, but Aahotep.

She tried to catch Darcy’s eye, but he was looking at the map, and she was glad, a moment later, that she had not been able to catch it, for of course there was an innocent explanation for the unsettling occurrence: one of the maids must have come across the doll in the case of things to be left behind and, thinking it was a mistake, had repacked it in the things to go with them instead. But even so, it had given her a nasty turn. And now she was left with the problem of extricating it from Margaret all over again.

“Aahotep?” said Edward with a frown. He turned to Sir Matthew. “You do not think…?”

“Nonsense,” said Sir Matthew robustly. “We must not allow ourselves to get carried away by folktales. I must have mentioned the names when we all met in the British Museum, that is all, and the delightful Miss Margaret has remembered them.” He smiled benignly at Margaret. “What a clever girl you are.”

“Aahotep doesn’t think you’re very clever,” said Margaret without animosity. “She says you’re very stupid.”

“Margaret!” Elizabeth exclaimed.

“Dear me, does she?” asked Sir Matthew. “And why does she think that?”

“Because you haven’t found the tomb. She keeps telling people where it is and still no one has found it.”

“And where is it, Margaret?” asked Edward before suddenly looking ashamed of himself as he realised he was treating Margaret’s fantasy as if it were real.

“Out there,” said Margaret, pointing.

“Out there, in the desert?” asked Sir Matthew.

“Yes,” said Margaret, “buried in the sand.”

Elizabeth heaved a sigh of relief. For a moment she had expected her daughter to give them explicit instructions, relayed from the long-dead Aahotep. But “out there, buried in the sand” were the sort of vague directions any little girl would give.

“Well, we will just have to unbury it then, will we not?” said Sir Matthew.

Margaret nodded gravely.

“But not today,” said Elizabeth. She added meaningfully, “I think someone needs her sleep.”

And taking Margaret firmly by the hand, she allowed one of the fellahs to show her to the Darcy sleeping quarters.

“Margaret,” said Elizabeth, as she undressed her daughter and put her to bed for a nap. “You must not speak to other people that way. It is not polite.”

“It wasn’t me; it was Aahotep. I like Sir Matthew,” said Margaret with a sweet smile. “It is only Aahotep who thinks he is stupid.”

Then she gave a huge yawn and closed her eyes, falling quickly into a slumber.

Taking her opportunity, Elizabeth lifted Aahotep out of the bed and replaced it with the new doll. Then she kissed her daughter on the forehead and went to find Darcy. He was sitting for Paul, who was busily sketching him, and Elizabeth did not like to disturb them. She listened instead to John’s information about fighting in deserts and the difficulties of everything from supply lines to walking in sand, and she humoured her mother as Mrs Bennet told her how wonderful the young men in the camp were and how she had invited several of them to England.

“For I am sure your papa would be delighted to have them all at Longbourn,” said Mrs Bennet.

Elizabeth could just imagine her father’s face if half a dozen handsome Egyptians invaded his home, and that face was not one of delight! But there was no use remonstrating with her mother, and so she relied on the language barrier to protect Mr Bennet from an invasion.

As soon as Darcy was free, Elizabeth went over to him and took his arm, steering him away from the others and toward the edge of the camp where they could talk in peace.

“I suppose we cannot persuade Edward out of the search for this tomb?” she asked.

“Unfortunately not,” said Darcy.

Elizabeth shivered.

“I cannot like it,” she said.

“Come now, it is just because you are tired. Or are you really regretting coming? We can always return to the boats if you wish.”

“No,” she said, reassured by his matter-of-fact tone. “As you say, I am just tired—and hot and thirsty. I am allowing my fancies to run away with me. There are many marvels in the desert and I want to experience them while I can. But all the same, I hope Edward either finds the tomb or realises it is not out there. One way or another, I would like his obsession to come to an end.”

“On that we are agreed. It is not just his obsession that worries me; it is the deceit. It is all the more unsettling because I have never known Edward to be deceitful before. He has his faults, as do we all—”

“Really, my dear? I did not know that you had any!” she teased him.

“I have kept one or two, for the sole purpose of allowing you the pleasure of correcting them!” he said, kissing her on the tip of her nose. “But if I had known that Edward had found the map… and yet he kept it from me.” His tone darkened. “It makes me wonder what other secrets he is keeping.”

Chapter 11




The next day Edward was up early, stirred by his enthusiasm to find the tomb. The sun had barely begun to show its face above the horizon as he moved around the camp, loading the equipment he meant to take with him onto the camels, who stood placidly in the dawn light, oblivious to his nervous energy.

Disturbed by the noise, Sophie stirred. For a while she struggled to wake, exhausted by the exertions of the day before, then finally she washed and dressed in a loose muslin gown and tiptoed out of the tent she was sharing with the girls to find out what the commotion was.

“Edward, do you mean to leave us?” she enquired as she sleepily took in the sight of the camels and fellahs in their long white robes.

“Only for a while,” he said, gratified by the note of disappointment he fancied he heard in her voice. “The desert is vast, but I’m sure there are great treasures still to be found, and I mean to find some.”

“Bring me back a diamond,” she said, smiling.

“At the very least.” He hesitated and then moved closer to her. “Sophie, you know that although I am the son of an earl, my fortune is not great.”

“I believe I can match you in that regard,” she said.

“I would not wish to marry for money.” He hesitated and then continued. “If my prospects were better I would hope—”

Just then one of the camels, less tolerant than its fellows, began braying and kicking at a fellah who had tightened the girths too tightly, and some of Edward’s papers began to fall to the ground. He glanced quickly at Sophie.

“We will speak more when I return,” he said.

Sophie watched him in the dawn’s half-light, before drawing her shawl round her shoulders and returning to her tent.

Darcy and Elizabeth were also woken by the braying of the camel. Reaching for his robe, Darcy peered out of the tent.