“Quite all right, my dear. Is your injury bothering you? Perhaps we should sit down.”
“What? Oh, that. Well, yes, a little. Not much. It’s all right.”
He’d lost sight of Sebastian too. What was taking his father so long?
Mrs. Albion came back, followed by Nefret. Her nod and smile reassured him; they must have gone to the ladies’ parlor.
He was still scanning the room, trying to locate Sebastian, when he caught sight of his father. He let his breath out in a sigh that ruffled Katherine’s hair.
“Let’s do sit down, Ramses,” she said.
“Did I tread on your foot again?”
“No, dear, but the music has stopped.”
Her husband claimed her for the next dance, and Ramses headed straight for his father. Emerson’s appearance would have roused his wife’s direst suspicions. His hair was standing on end, his tie had come undone, and his smile was reminiscent of that of the Great Cat of Re after a tasty meal. Ramses drew him aside.
“Here, let me fix your tie before Mother sees you.”
“What’s wrong with it? Oh.” Emerson glanced down. “Thank you, my boy.”
“Well?” Ramses demanded.
“It went off without a hitch. What did you expect?”
“Did you find anything?”
“Oh, yes.”
“Don’t do this to me, Father.” He jerked the knot tight.
“I can’t tell you about it now,” Emerson said reproachfully. “But in a word – Oh, curse it. Hullo, Bertie. Were you looking for me? I just stepped out into the garden for -”
“No, sir. That is – did you see Jumana?”
“In the garden? Er – no.”
“Is something wrong, Bertie?” Ramses asked.
Bertie passed his hand over his hair. “It’s just that this is my dance, and I can’t find her. She was with Sebastian, and he doesn’t seem to be in the room either.”
“They must be around somewhere,” Emerson said vaguely. “Damn! There’s your mother. Your mother, I mean, Ramses. Am I supposed to be dancing with her?”
“I’ve no idea,” Ramses said. His mother was advancing on them with a firm stride and a look in her eyes that boded ill for Emerson. “You had better report to her, she probably noticed you were conspicuous by your absence.”
“Jumana -” Bertie began.
“Yes, right. I expect she’s gone to the ladies’ parlor. Let’s ask Nefret.”
Nefret had just returned from the ladies’ parlor. “Mrs. Albion has gone there three times! She keeps taking off her gloves and washing her hands. I hate to speculate about why. Is Father -”
“Dancing with Mother,” Ramses said.
“Thank goodness!”
“Yes, but Jumana has gone missing,” Ramses said. “She wasn’t in the ladies’ parlor?”
“Sebastian’s not here either,” Bertie said.
“Oh, dear. I’m sorry, I rather lost track of her, what with… one thing and another. Perhaps she stepped out into the garden for a breath of fresh air.”
“The Professor just came in from the garden. He said he hadn’t seen her. But he wouldn’t have, would he, if they were off in a dark corner somewhere.”
“There is no reason to suppose they are together, Bertie,” Nefret said. “But we’ll have a look round.”
The gardens were one of the showplaces of Luxor, planted with exotic trees and shrubs. They, too, had been decorated for the occasion; colorful lanterns hung from the branches, and benches and chairs were scattered about. A number of the guests were enjoying the cool air and the scent of night blossoms. Winding paths led in and out of the shrubbery.
“You go that way,” Bertie said. “I’ll go the other.”
Nefret would have been the first to admit she had been remiss, but she couldn’t believe there was any real danger to Jumana. Not here, in the public gardens, with so many people about. If the girl had let Sebastian bring her here, she was guilty of nothing worse than indiscretion. Nefret had a sinking feeling she wasn’t going to convince Bertie of that. His jaw was set.
“I’m coming with you,” she said. “Wait for me.”
He had already plunged into the nearest path. She picked up her skirts and ran after him.
They had almost reached the end of the path, where it curved back toward the hotel, before Nefret heard a man’s voice, low and intimate, the words indistinguishable; and Jumana’s reply, high-pitched and quavering. “No, I am not afraid, but I want to go back now.”
Sebastian laughed softly. “Not yet.”
Nefret filled her lungs and shouted, “Jumana!”
Jumana came flying out of the shadows. Bertie went flying into them. He dragged Sebastian out into the light and raised his fist.
“Stop them,” Nefret exclaimed. “They’re going to fight!”
“It looks that way,” said Ramses, behind her. “Go ahead, Bertie, give him a good one.”
Bertie let go of Sebastian’s lapel and stepped back. “He’s wearing eyeglasses. I can’t hit a chap who -”
Sebastian’s fist connected neatly and scientifically with Bertie’s jaw, knocking him over backward.
13
“Really,” I said in exasperation, “I cannot decide which of this evening’s outlandish activities to discuss first.”
“I can,” said Emerson. “Good Gad, Bertie, don’t you know better than to fight like a gentleman?”
We had left the party somewhat precipitately. I had known the moment I set eyes on him that Emerson had been up to something, but before I could interrogate him Nefret had run in to tell me Jumana was in hysterics and Bertie was nursing a lump on his jaw and a bump on his head and that Ramses was chasing Sebastian Albion through the gardens and that – in short, we had better go at once. We collected the others, including Ramses, who had cooled off enough to be tractable, and took them away. Since our house was nearer than the Castle, we had all gone there. Having removed coat, waistcoat, and tie, with a glass of whiskey and soda in his hand, Emerson felt in a proper frame of mind to lecture.
“Bear in mind, my boy,” he went on, “that there is no purpose in fighting unless you mean to win. Never mind all that nonsense about fair play.”
“I’ll remember that next time, sir,” Bertie said.
“I sincerely hope there will not be a next time,” Katherine exclaimed. “Nefret, are you certain he doesn’t have a concussion, or a fractured skull, or -”
“He did not fall very hard,” said Jumana.
We all turned to look at her. She had wept on Nefret’s shoulder – Ramses having refused to offer his – all the way back, but whether from distress or pure excitement I would have hesitated to say.
“I am sorry,” she stammered. “I didn’t mean… But why is everyone angry with me? Why did Bertie want to fight with Sebastian? He was very polite, he only -”
“Kept you there after you had said you wanted to go,” Nefret cut in. “Would he have continued to be polite, do you think, if we hadn’t arrived when we did?”
Jumana’s lips trembled.
“It wasn’t her fault,” Bertie muttered. “She didn’t understand.”
“Well, perhaps she didn’t,” I conceded. “I assumed… So I neglected to give her my little lecture. You remember the one, Nefret?”
“Very well,” said Nefret, her tight lips relaxing. “I gave her the same lecture less than an hour ago. Evidently it didn’t make an impression.”
She went to Jumana and lifted her out of her chair by her shoulders. “Have I your full attention now, Jumana? Bertie behaved tonight as any decent man would, coming to the assistance of an inexperienced young girl who is about to be…” She glanced at me, and went on, “… taken advantage of by an unscrupulous scoundrel. He’d have done it for any girl, Jumana, so don’t preen yourself! The only mistake he made was in playing by the rules and expecting Sebastian to do the same. Now go to your room and think about what I’ve said, unless you want to apologize to Bertie and thank him.”