“Edward will be very disappointed,” said Elizabeth.
“Disappointment is the most common feeling when searching for buried treasure,” said Sir Matthew philosophically.
When the sun had passed its zenith and the air began to cool, Sir Matthew said they should proceed. Edward was greatly excited and sprang to the steps, descending them eagerly. On reaching the bottom, he covered his face with his handkerchief, for although the air was far sweeter than it had been, still it was not pleasant. Taking up a flambeau, he disappeared from view.
“Are you sure you want to go inside?” said Darcy to Elizabeth.
“I am,” she said, and she followed Edward through the doorway.
By the flickering light of the torch, she saw that she was in a small chamber and that the walls were covered with paintings of strangely flat-looking people whose bodies faced forward but whose heads and legs faced to the right. The men wore simple skirts, and their bronzed torsos gleamed nakedly in the red torchlight. The women wore white gowns. Their black hair reached to their shoulders and was cut square at the ends. There were hunting scenes and various depictions of gods and goddesses, among whom Elizabeth recognised a painting of the sun god Ra, with his head like that of a falcon and the disk of the sun above his head. Paul sketched them all with a quick, sure hand.
Edward did not stop to look at the marvellous paintings, however, but proceeded to the back of the room and then walked slowly around the walls until he came again to the door.
“I must have missed something,” he said.
“You have missed nothing,” said Sir Matthew. “As I suspected, this is a false tomb.”
“No!” said Edward.
“Alas, yes,” said Sir Matthew. “These discoveries are not infrequent; it does not do to be too disappointed.”
“But I was so sure,” said Edward. “I am still sure the tomb is here somewhere; I can feel it.”
“I think you are right,” said Sir Matthew. “You have missed the point entirely, young man. The existence of the false tomb shows us that we are on the right track. It was built in order to demoralise would-be grave robbers. If I do not miss my guess, the real tomb will be close by.”
Newly energised, Edward and Sir Matthew stayed in the desert with the fellahs, but the rest of the party announced their intention of returning to the camp.
“Are you going to come back with us, or are you going to stay a while longer?” Elizabeth asked Sophie.
Sophie was looking at Edward, but his back was turned to her and he took no notice of her, or of the question.
If he asked her to stay, she would, thought Elizabeth, seeing the expression on Sophie’s face. She would rather have Edward, but she is not the spiritless young woman who joined us in London and she will not allow another man to hurt her as Mr Rotherham did. Paul may win her yet.
“I have seen all I need to see,” said Sophie.
“Then might I give you my arm?” asked Paul.
As the two young people set off together, Elizabeth said in exasperation, “Edward is a young fool. He sees nothing but his tomb. It has been there for thousands of years and it will still be there tomorrow.”
“Whereas Sophie will not?” asked Darcy.
“No, she will not. And who can blame her?” asked Elizabeth. “Especially when a personable young man is doing his best to make himself agreeable to her.”
When they arrived back at the camp, the children and Mrs Bennet were still eating luncheon. Four more places were quickly set at the informal al fresco tables. The meal was simple but tasty with many of the unusual dishes they had learned to appreciate in the heat of the desert. Salads of cucumber, tomatoes, and chickpeas were a staple and the sweet stuffed peppers were quickly becoming a favourite with the children, as were melons and spiced oranges. Most of the conversation was taken up with the new discovery. Mrs Bennet at first expressed a wish to see it, but Elizabeth’s graphic descriptions of the unpleasant interior made a deep impression on her and she decided she would rather remain in the relative comfort of the camp.
After they had eaten and rested during the hottest part of the day, Paul set up his easel in the shade, but instead of painting any of the marvels he had seen, he asked Sophie to sit for him. She did so gladly, and as he painted in quick, assured strokes, they talked and smiled and laughed together and Paul was obviously enchanted.
When Elizabeth walked past the easel as afternoon turned to evening, she was not surprised to see an extraordinary portrait.
“When she sees that portrait, I fear Edward’s fate is sealed,” she said to Darcy.
“He has made his choice,” said Darcy, “although I cannot help feeling… but he had a chance to stop her leaving this afternoon, and yet he could think only of the dead.”
Elizabeth shivered.
“Cold?” he asked, shrugging out of his coat and putting it round her shoulders.
“Yes,” she said. “It is growing late.”
“Too late for a turn around the camp?” he asked, offering her his arm.
She took it willingly and they began to stroll in the pleasant cool of the evening. There was a breeze which ruffled her hair, blowing tendrils across her face, and he turned to face her, brushing the tendrils aside and looking down into her eyes with a tenderness that made her heart turn over.
“What fools these young people are,” he said. “I would like to be superior and say that I was never the same, but unfortunately that would not be true. I turned away from you just as Edward is turning away from Sophie. I cannot even plead that I did it with better cause, for I was motivated by pride, which is surely a worse reason than a desire to discover a piece of history. I cannot believe how lucky I was to be given a second chance. I only hope that Edward is given the same.”
“Are you motivated by partiality?” asked Elizabeth as they walked on again.
“No. I think she would be good for him, and he for her.”
“Whereas she would not be good for Paul Inkworthy?”
“I think she would be good for any man, but I doubt if he would be good for her. I have had a chance to talk to him on many occasions, and it seems to me that he is already in love with his art. I pity any woman who had to compete with that for more than a few months. A beautiful face will attract him, but when he sees one more beautiful, and one he prefers to paint?”
“So you think his interest in her is only that of an artist?”
“I am not certain of it, but I think it might be the case, yes. Only time will tell.”
Elizabeth was thoughtful. “It will be interesting to see how their tangled feelings unravel themselves. But of one thing I am certain: I am glad that I am not courting again. I remember thinking that no amount of future happiness could make up for the turmoil I endured when I did not know if you loved me and if you would ever propose again.”
“And were you right? Has your future happiness fallen short?” he teased her.
“No!” she said with a laugh. “Even so, it was an uncomfortable time. I would much rather be here with you now, secure in your love and happy in my marriage.”
“There are times when we argue, but with that I can only agree.”
***
Sir Matthew’s prophecy had been correct. After a few days’ further searching, another set of steps was found about half a mile away from the original chamber. Sir Matthew, together with Edward and the fellahs, worked tirelessly to excavate the steps and promised to send word to the camp when the door was reached.
And that was not the only good news. As Elizabeth sat sunning herself early one morning, she was distracted by the sound of the children arguing beyond the tents. She was spared from pursuing the problem herself by the sight of Margaret running toward them.