“Yes. I have written to Mama and my sisters,” said Sophie. “I have told them all about our stay in Cairo, but by the time I write the next letter, there will be something even more exotic to talk about.”
She wandered over to one of the windows and looked out over the desert.
“It is strange to think that a mighty civilisation flourished here but that it is now covered in sand,” she said. “Whole temples have been buried beneath the desert. I am glad we are going to join Sir Matthew at his dig. I never thought about the wider world before; indeed, I never thought about anything outside Meryton, but now my eyes have been opened and it is all thanks to you, Elizabeth.”
“My dear Sophie, we were only too glad to bring you with us.”
“Do you think Mr Fitzwilliam will really find an undiscovered tomb, with all its treasures?” asked Sophie.
“He certainly hopes so.”
“The pyramids, the tombs… they make me wonder about the people who made them. And yet it shows the insignificance of men, do you not think, that their most triumphant works can be buried so easily by nature?”
“But they are still there,” said Elizabeth, “not destroyed, only lost. And that which is lost can be found.”
Sophie paused, much struck. “Yes, it can.” Her voice took on a musing tone. “I thought I had lost something forever…”
“Mr Rotherham?” asked Elizabeth gently.
“No, not Mr Rotherham, but something more important, my joy in life. I thought he had destroyed it. But he had only buried it, and I believe I am finding it again.”
“It is lucky that Edward is so adept at archaeology,” said Elizabeth innocently.
“Elizabeth!” said Sophie, blushing.
“Well it is he, is it not, who has reawakened your joy in living?” said Elizabeth teasingly. “Unless it is Mr Inkworthy?”
Sophie’s colour subsided slightly, although not completely, and a faint flush could still be seen beneath her tanned skin.
“I confess I like him, too. He is very different from Edward, more serious perhaps and not as confident, but he is an interesting person. He is no less passionate in his own way.”
“And his looks, although not handsome, have a way of growing on one,” said Elizabeth.
“Yes, they do.”
Elizabeth paused for a minute and then said, “Sophie, you have no mother with you and so I will say to you what my aunt said to me, many years ago, when I thought I was on the way to being in love with George Wickham. I have been very happy to see you coming back to life, and a light flirtation with Mr Inkworthy is an agreeable thing, but I want you to be on your guard. Anything more serious would be imprudent because of a want to fortune on both sides. I have nothing to say against him; he is a most interesting young man, but I think you must not let your fancy run away with you. I hope I am not offending you by speaking so openly?”
“No, not at all. But you must not take it too hard if I cannot follow your excellent advice. Oh, I do not mean that I am in love with Mr Inkworthy—far from it—only that you did not allow a matter of fortune to sway you in your marriage, for I believe you would have married Mr Darcy if he had been a pauper. And how can I promise to be wiser than you and so many of my fellow creatures if I am tempted, or how am I even to know that it would be wisdom to resist? All that I can promise you is that I will do my best.”
Elizabeth laughed.
“And now you have answered me as I answered my aunt. Well, I can ask for no more than that. Now, I had better instruct the servants, there will be plenty to do over the next few days. If we can complete our journey down the Nile without Jane falling overboard or Laurence bartering his grandmama for a camel, then I will think myself fortunate indeed.”
Chapter 9
The remaining few days in Cairo passed quickly. Paul travelled out to Giza to sketch the head of the sphinx and returned with a tale of having accepted a camel ride back to Cairo, only to be taken deeper into the desert by the camel’s owner, who demanded money of him and threatened to leave him if he did not pay. He returned to the house chastened, and it was a reminder to all of them that they needed to be aware of the dangers all around them and properly prepared for their journey. But at last all the preparations were made, and they embarked on the flat-bottomed boat that would carry them down the Nile.
Their journey was enjoyable, and Elizabeth regretted it when the last night on board arrived. She was dressed in a loose muslin gown. A large hat was shading her face and protecting her eyes from the low rays of the sun. They were all lingering on deck, eager to make the most of it—all but Jane and Margaret, who, tired, had been put to bed.
Elizabeth and Darcy were sitting apart from the others at the back of the boat. As they watched the sun sinking into the water, Darcy dropped soft kisses on her hair. Elizabeth leaned back against his chest, enjoying the view. The graceful palm trees on the banks made intricate silhouettes against the rapidly darkening sky.
“First a sunrise and now a sunset. We have seen some magnificent skies in Egypt,” she said. “It is strange to think of other people watching this same sight, going back for thousands of years.”
“Strange and also humbling to think of other lovers watching the sun go down, even as we are doing now.”
“Yes, love is the one thing that never changes,” agreed Elizabeth as she basked in Darcy’s love and the beauty of the evening. “Although people themselves do. Those lovers in earlier times did not know why the sun sank beneath the horizon every evening. They thought it happened because the sun god, Ra, left the heavens to travel through the underworld, where he would fight the serpent Apophis before emerging again, triumphant, the following morning, bringing with him the new day.”
“I see that Edward has been telling you about the Egyptian myths.”
“Yes, he has. And I am not the only one,” said Elizabeth, looking toward the front of the boat, where Edward was entertaining the children with an Egyptian tale, while Sir Matthew looked on with a kindly air. Edward’s words drifted through the still, calm air toward them:
“…the king did not want to go to war, as it meant leaving all his treasure behind. But at last he had no choice, and so he left his treasure on the island of Elephantine, which was guarded by a powerful magician. As soon as the king left, his relatives tried to claim the treasure for their own—”
“He should have passed a law forbidding anyone to touch it,” said William.
“He should have left some soldiers behind to guard it,” said John.
“He didn’t need to; he had the magician to guard it,” said Laurence. “No one would be able to steal it if it had a magician guarding it; it would be safe.”
“Unfortunately not,” said Edward. “They slew the magician—”
“Then the king should have chosen a better magician,” said Laurence. “He wasn’t very powerful if he got killed so easily.”
“He was a very powerful magician,” said Edward, “for he rose from the dead, turning into an enormous serpent who ate them all. And there the serpent remains to this day, guarding the treasure.”
“How are we going to kill him then?” asked Laurence.
“It’s only a story,” said William.
“We are not going to the island of Elephantine,” said Beth. “We are going to a dig in the desert; it is not the same thing.”
“Quite right, Miss Darcy,” said Sir Matthew. “A real dig, not a fairy tale.”
“But some bold adventurer might steal the treasure one day,” said Laurence, ignoring them.
“The serpent is too powerful, with a light on his head which blinds all who see it,” said Edward.