Pride and pyramids : Mr. Darcy in Egypt

Chapter 8

The Darcy party set out for Cairo a few days later. The intervening time had been spent seeing the Alexandrian sights, with Edward conducting them around a series of marvels, helped by a hired interpreter.

The morning of their departure dawned hot and clear. There was much excitement as they boarded the low, flat boats. The triangular sails billowed out in the breeze and the boats pulled out into the river. The water was a clear turquoise and the fertile banks were green with bushes, while farther off the greenery gave way to the golden sands of the desert.

Beth found a shady spot and took out her sketchbook, producing a creditable drawing of the river. Paul went over to look and suggested some ways in which she could improve upon it and Beth thanked him with a faint blush.

Elizabeth, watching from the other side of the boat, realised with a start that this was not just hero worship.

Darcy, coming over to her, said, “What is it?”

“Beth,” said Elizabeth. “I think she has developed a tendre for Mr Inkworthy.”

“Nonsense,” said Darcy. “She is just a child, far too young to be developing a tendre for anyone.”

“She is nearly fourteen,” said Elizabeth. “When I was her age, I became infatuated with the Meryton curate. Other girls become infatuated with their dancing masters. It is not uncommon.”

“She cannot marry an artist,” said Darcy.

“My dear, she has no intention of marrying him, only of worshipping from afar and hoping he will notice her, as he does occasionally. Fortunately he is a kind young man and he will not play on her feelings, despite the fact that she is an heiress.”

“No,” said Darcy, “I believe he is the sort of man who would never be tempted by money, for if he was, her age would not protect her for long. Georgiana was only fifteen when Wickham attempted to run away with her.”

“But Wickham is a very different man than Paul Inkworthy. I think we are fortunate that Beth has picked him for her first infatuation. She will come to no harm with him.”

“You are right, my love,” said Darcy, putting his arm round her waist.

She detected something wistful about the gesture and asked him if anything was wrong.

“No, not really,” he said. “Only… we are losing them, aren’t we?”

Elizabeth leaned her head on his shoulder.

“Ever so slowly, yes,” she said. “It has to happen, you know. You told me so yourself.”

“Yes, I did, did I not? Only this feels different. To lose the boys to school is one thing, but to lose Beth herself is another. She is changing before our eyes. What will we do when she grows up? When they all grow up?”

Elizabeth gave a sigh.

“I do not know. But we have not lost them yet,” she said, rallying.

“No,” said Darcy, rallying too. “And when we do, there will be compensations. We will have more time to spend by ourselves. And speaking of more time to ourselves, when we land I will be taking you on the first stage of your surprise. You have not forgotten I promised it to you?”

She was immediately curious but he would say no more. She teased him about it until they finally landed and continued to tease him as they left the boats behind and covered the short distance to Cairo, passing cultivated fields in which oxen worked, but he was infuriatingly silent on the subject.

Once they had settled into their new lodgings on the outskirts of Cairo, however, he said to her, “When would you like your surprise? Today? Or, if you are too tired, we can wait until tomorrow.”

She assured him that she was not at all tired and he said, “Then we will set out after dinner.”

“After dinner? Set out? But if we are going somewhere, will it not be better to wait until the morning?”

“This particular surprise will not allow it,” he said.

She tried to contain her impatience throughout dinner but when it was over and they had informed the others of their proposed absence, she could contain it no longer.

“Dress warmly,” Darcy said. “We are going to spend the night at the base of one of the pyramids.”

“It seems a very strange thing to do. If you want to show me the pyramids, I will see them better in daylight.”

“There is a reason for it,” he said.

He would say no more, and so, having dressed herself warmly, for the nights were cool, she told him she was ready.

Darcy, too, was dressed for the Egyptian night. He wore a caped greatcoat over his coat and breeches, and on his feet he wore boots.

They left the house by the light of the moon and outside they were joined by their guards, who followed them at a discreet distance as they walked through the deserted streets. Elizabeth took Darcy’s arm and relished the silence. Gone was all the raucous noise of daytime: the souk sellers crying their wares, the sound of copper pans being beaten, the braying of donkeys, the snorting of camels, and the incessant babble of voices, rising and falling like a tide rising and falling against the shore. Instead, there was a peaceful silence, broken only by the chirrup of insects.

They went on foot and Elizabeth felt her body relax. This was the exercise she preferred, away from the jolting of a donkey or camel and without the rise and fall of a boat. Instead, there was only the feel of the cool air against her cheek and the comforting feel of solid earth beneath her feet. She relished the exercise and squeezed Darcy’s arm, enjoying the wonder of it all. The light was intriguing, with dark shadows falling across their path as they walked past the houses that blocked the light, becoming brighter as they emerged into full moonlight. Here and there a minaret glinted as they wound their way through the narrow streets, and the stars glittered in the black sky.

They walked at first through the outskirts of the city, but soon they left it behind and found themselves on the edge of the vast desert. The dunes were eerily lovely, their great ridges sculpting the landscape with different shades of brown and black as they caught the diaphanous starlight or dropped down into blackest shadow where no light could reach.

And on the horizon loomed the pyramids, beautiful and mysterious in the moonlight.

Darcy placed his hand over Elizabeth’s arm and she looked up at him, wondering how she had been so lucky as to find herself here in this magical place with the man who had made her whole life magical. True, he could be infuriating at times and their life together had not been without its arguments, but she knew she could never have married anyone else. He had brightened every day with his presence and he still, after all these years, managed to excite and surprise her, as he was doing now by taking her on a midnight walk across the desert.

As they emerged from the fronded shadow of a palm tree and set foot on the desert, she felt the sand shift beneath her feet and shivered with pleasure. This was what she had wanted. An adventure! A wonderful chance to experience life anew and to feel again all the excitement of new places and the unforeseeable delights they might bring.

“I thought of having camels ready, but I know how you love to walk and it is not too far. Although it will not be easy walking, I have seen you walk much farther and on much worse ground at home.”

“You know me well!” said Elizabeth.

“I should, by now,” he said with a smile, dimly visible in the soft light.

“And that is why you wanted us to set out so late, I suppose, so that we could walk in the cool of the evening.”

Darcy did not reply.

Elizabeth’s eyes, accustomed now to the moon and starlight, took in the full splendour of the pyramids. They loomed ever larger as she and Darcy walked toward them, moving as briskly as the soft sand and stones beneath their feet would allow.

“To think, the great pyramid has been here for four thousand years,” said Elizabeth, adding, “You see, I have been listening to William. He has been reading all about it. I think he almost knows as much about Egypt now as Edward does!”

“I am not surprised. He spends his life with his books. But I intend to make sure he spends more time away from them now that we are on dry land.”

“It will do him good,” said Elizabeth.

They talked quietly as they walked onward until at last Elizabeth saw a small camp ahead of them. Several black wool tents were set up at the base of the great pyramid and in front of them was a campfire. The smell of roast mutton filled the air as it turned on a spit over the fire.

“I sent some men on ahead,” said Darcy by way of explanation.

Elizabeth was glad of it. She had enjoyed the walk but she was tired and the appetising smell revived her, as did the warmth of the fire. She sat down gladly beside it. The footmen who had set up the camp withdrew to a second set of tents some way off, and the guards withdrew to a discreet distance.

Darcy sat down beside her and they warmed their hands at the fire, until at last Elizabeth felt able to remove her cloak and Darcy his coat. He began to carve slices of the roasted mutton and he handed it to Elizabeth, together with the rice and other foodstuffs that had been brought from Cairo, on a china plate.

“I never knew you had a desire to sleep in a tent and eat from a campfire,” Elizabeth teased him. “Although it is rather an elegant form of making camp,” she added, as she took the china plate.

“Ordinarily, nothing could be further from my thoughts, but we are here for a reason, as you will see, and I could not let you starve in the desert, now could I?”

She began to eat, the hot food refreshing her. After they had eaten their fill of the mutton, Darcy set it to one side and then took some small cakes out of a box. Elizabeth savoured the sweet, honey-laden taste of them, and when they were done they sat companionably by the fire, which had died down and looked like a glowworm in the dark.

“This is perfect,” said Elizabeth, with a final glance at the stars when at last they retired to their tent.

Darcy took her hand. “The best is yet to come.”

***

Elizabeth was awakened early the following morning before it was light by Darcy kissing her cheek and shaking her gently, saying, “Wake up.”

She opened her eyes and then closed them again.

“It is still dark!” she murmured, turning over and starting to go back to sleep.

“It is time to get up all the same. I want to show you something. It is time for your surprise.”

She roused herself with difficulty and said, “You mean it was not sleeping out here under the stars?”

“No, it is something different, but I cannot show it to you until you get up.”

She rubbed her eyes and reluctantly sat up, pushing her hair out of her face and yawning. It was very early and she was still tired. To her surprise, she saw that Darcy was not only up, he was already dressed. He disappeared through the tent’s opening and returned a few moments later with a cup of hot coffee, which he handed to her, together with some small cakes and dates.

“Here,” he said. “You will feel better when you have had something to eat and drink.”

“Am I allowed to know what the surprise is?” she asked, as she took a sip of the hot coffee.

“No. Not yet,” he said. “But I will tell you why you are having it today, or at least, I will remind you. Do you know what day it is today? Or, I should say, date?”

“The twelfth. Oh!” she said with a broad smile. “The twelfth of October.”

“Yes, the twelfth of October. The day we met. Sixteen years ago, we were at the Meryton assembly in Hertfordshire, and little did we know it but our lives were about to change. I was feeling irritable because Bingley had dragged me there against my wishes, and I was not in a mood to enjoy a country entertainment…”

“…or to give consequence to a young woman who had been slighted by other men!” said Elizabeth.

“No, I was not,” he said with a rueful smile.

“And I was not feeling very cordial toward you for disdaining my charms. No woman likes to think she is not handsome enough to tempt a man to dance, though I managed to laugh about it with my friends.”

“What a fool I was,” he said, kissing her. “To think I almost missed the best part of my life because of my pride, my arrogance, and my conceit. But fortunately, I realised what a fool I had been before it was too late and claimed you as my own. And now I want to give you something to celebrate our first meeting. I have given it a great deal of thought, because I wanted it to be something different, not the usual gifts of jewels—”

“Although the Pemberley jewels are magnificent,” said Elizabeth appreciatively.

“—but something unique. I was hoping we would arrive here in time for this day and knew that we would if all our plans went well. And now that we have, we can celebrate in a special way.”

Elizabeth put down her cup, closed her eyes, and held out her hand for the gift.

“Oh, no,” he said with a laugh. “It is not so easy this time, no small box I can hand to you, nor even a horse waiting outside for you when you draw back the curtains.”

She smiled, remembered one of his larger gifts, and opened her eyes again.

“This time, you cannot just receive it, you have to work to get it.”

She was intrigued but could not resist teasing him. “Ah, I see how it is. I knew you would tire of me in the end. Now I am to work for my presents; how long before you send me out to work for my pin money? Perhaps Lady Catherine would let me scrub the floors at Rosings!”

He kissed her on the tip of her nose and said, “Get up.”

She pushed the covers back and climbed out of the makeshift bed. There was already water in the bowl standing beside it, a luxury in the desert, and one which she knew must have taken some trouble to arrange. She washed gratefully in the cool water and then dressed, throwing a cloak around her shoulders and settling a bonnet on her head before venturing out of the tent.

The guards’ silhouettes could be seen not far away, but everything was peaceful, with no threat of disturbance.

“Where are we going?” she said. She looked into the distance. “Is it far?”

“Not in terms of length, but in terms of height,” he said. “We are going up.”

“Up?”

She craned her neck and looked up at the towering pyramid, at whose base they had made camp, and then back at him.

“Yes. We are going to climb the pyramid.”

“We are?” she asked, a shade doubtfully.

“We are,” he said firmly. “Unless it is too much for you?”

Elizabeth could not resist the challenge and took his arm as together they walked to the base of the pyramid. The sides were made of great blocks of stone, arranged in a steplike pattern leading to the top, but once again she looked at it somewhat doubtfully, for each block was almost as high as her waist. Nevertheless, she was beginning to catch Darcy’s enthusiasm, and mingled in with it was an enthusiasm of her own. What a chance to do something different! And what a view they would have from the top. And then she realised… “Oh!” she said ecstatically. “We are going to watch the sun rise.”

She felt a surge of pure joy at the thought. Her tiredness was forgotten as she took his hand and together they began to climb the pyramid.

“Now I know how the children felt when they were toddlers and they tried to climb the staircase at Pemberley!” she joked as she put her hands on the next step and managed to scramble her way up by dint of jumping and pulling herself up with her arms at the same time.

Darcy reached down his hand and helped her up the next stepped level.

“How did the ancient workmen manage to build such a thing?” she asked.

“It took a lot of labour and a lot of rollers. I have been talking to Sir Matthew,” he said, “and he has made a study of it. Luckily we do not have to build it, only to climb it!”

“And that is difficult enough,” said Elizabeth.

But she was not complaining. She found the exercise exhilarating, and the knowledge that she was climbing farther and farther to the top spurred her on.

They stopped to look about them and enjoy the beauty of the scene as the darkness gradually lessened and became less impenetrable. The desert lost its amorphous look and began to reveal its contours, and the outlines of the buildings in Cairo were dimly visible in the waning moonlight, their minarets showing as black silhouettes against the sky.

Having caught their breath, they set off again for the summit. The air began to grow warmer and Elizabeth climbed with renewed vigor when she saw that the top was within reach. With a burst of effort, she climbed the last few blocks and stood upright at the apex. She felt a huge sense of achievement and was flooded with a sense of wonder as she realised that dawn was on its way.

She spun slowly, drinking in the wonderful view. She could see for miles, and she came to rest again facing the east. There was a mist over the plains, but it could not obscure the spectacular sight as the sun began to rise. Bands of orange light suffused the sky, warming the diaphanous clouds, and at their centre was the very top of the sun’s molten disk as it began to rise above the horizon. It seemed to grow as she watched it, and the light intensified as it spread its rays ever wider, illuminating the desert and driving the chill from the air. She turned again, slowly, as the mist began to clear, unveiling a majestic view. To the south she could see a collection of smaller pyramids, their sand-coloured sides warming to tawny in the orange light, and to the west was the endless desert, its billowing dunes turning golden before her eyes. She turned slowly again to the north and looked out across fertile lands, with the Nile descending toward the sea. And turning again to the east she saw Cairo sparkling in the strengthening sunlight, the gold light of morning gleaming on its numerous minarets. Beyond Cairo lay the plains, lushly populated with groves of palm trees, and far off in the distance were the mountains.

“Well?” he asked softly. “Was it worth it?”

“Oh, yes,” she nodded, glancing at him before looking back at the wondrous view. “A thousand times yes. We will remember this for the rest of our lives.”

He put his arms around her waist and she turned to face him, and they kissed in the early morning sunlight as if it was the first time.

***

In Cairo, the rest of the party was having a more conventional start to the day. With the children soon whisked away by their tutors and Mrs Bennet declaring that she had had enough of the sun and that she intended to write some letters, Sophie suddenly found herself with nothing to occupy her. This was such an unusual state of affairs that she could not, to begin with, think what to do about it. At home she was constantly in demand either by her parents, her married brothers and sisters, or the vicar and his wife, since everyone thought that an unmarried woman could have no plans of her own and would be glad of any occupation.

Elizabeth and Darcy were far more courteous to her, but she had found that there was always something for her to do and, eager to repay their hospitality, she had done it. And so she had not realised until now that she had barely had a moment to herself. She was either helping Elizabeth share the burden of Mrs Bennet or she was amusing Margaret and trying to distract her from her rather horrid doll or she was performing a hundred other little tasks that needed doing. The prospect of a free morning was unsettling for a moment—then it was liberating.

Unlike Mrs Bennet, Sophie did not feel the need to go and hide from the sun. Indeed, Cairo in October was little hotter than a high summer’s day in England, and their journey had taken them through lands with much fiercer heat than that which they were now experiencing. She decided to take a leisurely stroll around the grounds of the house and perhaps rest in the shade of a palm tree with a book. So, armed with the latest edition of poems by Lord Byron, she set out for a quiet place to read.

The house was situated near the river, and as Sophie walked down the sloping hill that looked out onto the Nile, she was delighted to see the white sails of the feluccas, the Egyptian Nile boats, floating gracefully up and down the water. For a moment she stood and admired their beauty against the deep blue of the sky; then she realised she was not alone. Someone else was standing in the shade of the trees, an easel in front of him. With a start Sophie saw it was Mr Inkworthy.

She was aware of conflicting emotions where the young men were concerned. Despite her best efforts not to encourage either one of them, she took pleasure in their company and it was obvious they took pleasure in hers.

During the long sea voyage she had perforce seen much of both of them and found much to like in each. She liked Edward’s bright spirits and lively nature, but she also liked Paul’s quieter, more serious character and she had found his grave, courteous attention pleasant. She liked the way he encouraged the children to paint and had found something good to say about each attempt, even those from Laurence and Jane, whose restless spirits had found it the hardest to practise the patience and stillness that all artists require. She enjoyed his company and she thought he enjoyed hers too, but ever since they had landed in Alexandria he seemed to be avoiding her. Six months ago such behaviour would have driven her back into her shell again, but she was not the same girl who had boarded the ship at Southampton and she was glad of an opportunity to speak to him, for she liked his company.

“Mr Inkworthy!” she called. “Is it not a beautiful day?”

“Yes… indeed, yes.”

“May I see what you are painting?”

“Oh… I… of course.”

He moved back slightly from the easel. Since it was hot and he had assumed he would not be disturbed, he had thrown off his frock coat and stood now in a thin lawn chemise with the sleeves turned back. His arms were tanned and he looked a romantic figure, with his golden arms and neck, and his hair stirring slightly in the breeze. He reminded her of Lord Byron, whose person no less than his poetry drove the women in London wild. But whereas she had seen Lord Byron and not been impressed, she could not help her feelings stir at such a sight.

She realised that she was staring and, with a blush, turned her attention to the painting he was working on. It was a scene of the family near the river. Mr Darcy and Elizabeth were in the centre, the children playing around them. William was reading a book, while John, Laurence, and Jane were running after a surprised monkey which had just leapt into a tree for shelter. Their mischievous expressions were so lifelike that Sophie could not help but smile. Beth was next to her mother showing her some embroidery and looking very grown-up. Slightly to the edge of the painting was Margaret, with her doll, and an attractive, elegant-looking woman in a pale blue gown was seated beside her, listening intently to something the little girl was saying. The dress looked familiar to Sophie and she frowned trying to remember where she had seen it before. Then, suddenly, in a flash, she realised it was one of hers and that she, in fact, was the woman in the picture. She flushed.

“It is a striking painting,” she said.

“Striking? Perhaps, but I fancy I haven’t quite managed to replicate the vivid colours of the flowers or the way the sunlight plays on the water. I thought if I came out here I would be able to capture it more realistically.”

“I am disturbing you. I should leave.”

“No. Please don’t,” he said impulsively.

She felt she should go back to the house, but she was unable to tear herself away.

“You have caught the children’s characters extremely well,” she said, feeling it was safer to speak of painting than anything else. “Beth is very well done; she looks charming, but I fear you’ve romanticised Margaret’s doll.”

He laughed, sounding more comfortable. “It is rather ugly, is it not? I did not wish to scare my employers too much, and so I have softened its malevolent features.”

“I confess I like it better that way. And you’ve been far too flattering to me. I scarcely recognise myself.”

He looked at her more gravely. “I am afraid I cannot agree with you there. I have painted what I see.”

Sophie suddenly felt uncomfortable and yet happy at the same time. She realised at last that he had not been avoiding her because he found her company dull; indeed, his motivation was the exact opposite. To cover her confusion, she looked more closely at the painting.

“How cleverly you have drawn together the whole family in such an exotic setting. And the expression in the eyes is very realistic. Whenever I try to draw, my subjects look lifeless and doll-like.”

“It is a skill that can be taught.”

“I am sure it cannot. One has to have talent.”

“Of course. But even talent has to be nurtured or it will wither and die. I taught you how to draw the wind in the sails on our voyage, did I not? Now let me show you how to catch the expression lines of a face.”

He took the painting off the easel and placed it carefully in the shade of the wide-leaved tree before putting some blank paper in its place; then he began to explain to Sophie how to bring figures to life on the canvas. Soon she was engrossed in the lesson, and when he offered her the use of a chair and the rough drawing board he had brought out with him, so that she might practise the techniques he had suggested, she accepted with alacrity, Byron and his poems forgotten. Both of them lost track of time as he put his arm around her and covered her hand with his as he guided her pencil strokes, showing her how to suggest an expression with a few lines. She liked the feel of his closeness and the firm grip of his hand. She liked, too, the feel of his breath on the back of her neck, and when he stood up and rested his hand on her shoulder, she liked the warmth that radiated outward from his hand.

So engrossed did she become that she did not notice time passing. It was not until Laurence and Jane came roaring and galloping down the slope with a message from Mrs Bennet, saying, “Mama and Papa are back!” that she realised how late it was.

Paul stepped away from her, saying, “You have promise, Miss Lucas. I hope you do not waste it.”

Then John and Margaret appeared, and they found they had many willing young hands to help them disassemble their artistic paraphernalia and carry it up the hill in time for a late luncheon.

***

Elizabeth and Darcy returned to the house refreshed and revitalised after their romantic sojourn. It was a good thing, as they were met with a variety of complaints on their return: John declared that Laurence had taken some of his soldiers, and Laurence declared that he had never touched the things; William said that Jane had drawn in one of his books, which Jane denied; Beth said she was sure she ought to be wearing her hair up as she would soon be fourteen and would be a laughingstock if she continued to wear it tumbling around her shoulders; and Mrs Bennet complained that Margaret would not let go of her old Egyptian doll.

“I cannot think why, when she has a lovely, new doll to play with,” said Mrs Bennet. She held out the new doll enticingly. “See, my lamb, this is so much prettier than that horrid creature covered in smudges. See how the headdress sparkles on this one. Ouch. And that nasty thing is covered in splinters!”

“Thank you very much, Grandmama, but I like Aahotep best,” said Meg gravely. “She talks to me.”

“Oh, how I remember my dolls all talking to me. There was a toy soldier of my brother’s, I remember, who used to ask me all the time to dance! But he was a nice, clean doll in a red coat, not a nasty, dirty thing. Just look at your new doll’s dress, Margaret. She will talk to you too if you give her the chance.”

Margaret looked disdainful, saying, “How can she, Grandmama? She is only a toy.”

“Only a toy?” asked Mrs Bennet. “Only a toy? Why, she is an Egyptian princess.”

“No,” said Margaret firmly, clutching Aahotep tightly and looking scathingly at the offered treasure.

“If I had spoken to my grandmama like that when I was a little girl…” Mrs Bennet began.

Knowing that Mrs Bennet’s tales of when I was a girl could last for hours, Elizabeth and Darcy exchanged glances.

“Meg, my darling, time to go to the schoolroom,” Darcy said, holding out a hand to Margaret, who took it happily, and the other children accompanied them—all but Beth and William, who were now old enough to eat with the adults. Meanwhile, Elizabeth put her arm through her mother’s.

“Come, Mama, let us go in to luncheon,” she said, leading her mother firmly away from the children.

“I cannot think why Meg is so enamored of that ugly thing,” said Mrs Bennet.

“All children have their foibles, as you well know,” said Elizabeth.

“I am sure I would never have allowed you to have something like that,” said Mrs Bennet. “When you were children…”

Elizabeth sought to distract her mother’s attention, for tales of Mrs Bennet’s exemplary maternal achievements were almost as frequent as her tales of when I was a girl. Luckily, Elizabeth did not have far to look, for Edward had met Sir Matthew Rosen that morning by arrangement at a local souk and had brought him back for luncheon.

“I hope I am not intruding,” said Sir Matthew, rising to greet them.

“Not at all,” said Elizabeth. “We are delighted to see you. How are things at the dig?”

“They are improving all the time. I have just secured the services of a physician, who will be joining us at the camp shortly. There are always minor injuries and illnesses on such a dig, and now that our numbers are growing, a physician is a useful man to have about the place.”

As they took their places round the table, Sir Matthew continued to tell them of the conditions in the camp, the progress that had been made, and the small treasures found, making sure to thank Edward for his patronage and to stress how vital his continued support would be to the continuation of the dig. He regaled them also with an account of some of the difficulties: the problems of hiring reliable workmen, the heat, and the ever encroaching sand.

“I cannot wait to see it for myself,” said Edward.

“Why do you not all come?” asked Sir Matthew.

Sophie brightened at once, while Darcy glanced at Elizabeth, his eyes saying, Sir Matthew is hoping for further investment in his work.

Elizabeth knew that this was Sir Matthew’s motive, but despite this, she found herself stimulated by the idea. It had been their intention to remain in Cairo, where it was relatively civilised, while Edward went on to the dig, but the lure of the desert had taken hold of her and she found herself longing to explore.

“Yes. Why not?” said Elizabeth, looking at Darcy.

“Because life on a dig is very hard,” said Darcy.

“Our dig is bigger than most,” said Sir Matthew. “We have almost a small village of tents, with easy access to the river and a wealth of interesting tombs in the vicinity. We have several renowned scholars working there, men with international reputations. It would be educational for the children, and of course this kind of opportunity does not come along very often. There are many discoveries to be made, not only of treasures but also of scholarship. Just think if we find another Rosetta Stone. We could name it the Darcy Tablet.”

Darcy laughed. “You know how to flatter your patrons.”

“But why not?” asked Sir Matthew. “Discoveries have to be given some name, and the name of the generous patron is surely the best one to give.”

“I think my cousin will be disappointed if I steal his thunder,” said Darcy.

“Not at all,” said Edward robustly. “You may have the privilege of giving your name to any significant historical or archaeological finds, while I will content myself with the treasure.”

“You still believe you will find your tomb?” asked Sir Matthew.

“I am certain of it.”

“Treasure?” said Mrs Bennet. “Oh, yes, I do hope we find some treasure. I would like a new necklace, for Mrs Long was wearing a diamond necklace before we left and crowing about how valuable it was. I am sure we will find something better here, or what was the point of coming all this way?”

Elizabeth forbore to mention to her mama that she had not been invited but had taken it upon herself without so much as an invitation.

“Well?” said Sir Matthew, looking at Darcy.

Darcy turned his glass in his hand. “When do you leave?” he asked.

“I was planning to return tomorrow, but if you will join me, I will wait for you and travel onward at your convenience.”

“And my expense?” asked Darcy good-naturedly.

“Naturally,” said Sir Matthew. “Further patronage is always welcome.”

Elizabeth glanced at Darcy with unmistakable enthusiasm.

“I can see that my wife will give me no peace if I refuse her this opportunity to live in a tent, where all her possessions will be covered in sand and where she will have nothing to entertain her but a hole in the ground, and so I accept. And as my wife will not consent to leave the children behind, we will all accompany you when you return to the dig.”

Sir Matthew bowed. “As to the patronage…” he began.

Elizabeth took her cue and stood up. She gathered the ladies with her eye and led them from the room, leaving the gentlemen to discuss the financial implications and the practical necessities of their onward journey. The ladies made their way to the cool, airy chamber they had claimed as their sitting room. While Mrs Bennet enthused about the portrait Mr Inkworthy was painting of her, Beth picked up her sketchbook and Elizabeth and Sophie turned their attention to writing some letters.

“It is about time I had my portrait painted,” said Mrs Bennet. “Your father would never commission one, though I asked him to time after time. I am looking forward to hanging it in the drawing room at Longbourn. How green Mrs Long will be.”

Mrs Bennet continued to relish the faces of her neighbours while the others worked at their appointed tasks.

“At least sand is one thing we are never short of in Egypt!” said Sophie as she sanded her letter. “Although the ink dries so quickly here it is not really necessary.”

“But it is hard to break the habit,” Elizabeth agreed. “Have you written to everyone? Once we set off down the Nile, there will be no more opportunity to post a letter until we return. I am sure the dig site is very primitive, despite Sir Matthew’s boast, and he only sends to Cairo once a month for letters and supplies.”

“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.”