Sands of Time (Out of Time #6) (8 page)

“So, Christina,” Jack said. “Is this your first time to Egypt?”

“Oh no,” she said, with a shake of her head. “Daddy and I come every season. Except for that one year we spent in Singapore. It rained so much nearly all of my books were ruined. But then I suppose that’s to be expected in the rain forest, isn’t it? But I still miss my copy of Songs of Innocence and Experience. Keats, you know.”

The girl seemed to suddenly realize she’d wandered far off topic and blushed prettily. Elizabeth smiled kindly at her.

“Egypt is wonderful,” Christina said softly, but there was a twinge of wistful sadness in her voice. “I’d rather be here than London or Paris.”

“Well, you’re way ahead of me,” Elizabeth said. “This is my first time and I want to see everything.”

Simon sighed dramatically. “She means that quite literally, you know?”

Whiteside chuckled.

“Mason was supposed to show us around the museum, but…” Simon let his bait dangle in the air.

“Cairo Museum?” Whiteside said. “I have an appointment there tomorrow, but it won’t take long.” He ignored the look his daughter shot him at that remark and pushed on. “Perhaps, you’d join me? I’d be more than pleased to stand in for Mason, as it were.”

“That’s very kind of you, Professor Whiteside,” Simon said.

“Arthur,” Whiteside said. “Any friend of George’s and all that.”

Simon felt the familiar warmth of Elizabeth’s hand as she slipped it into his under the table and gave it a “well done” squeeze.

Jack sighed. “Museums.” He held up his hand in apology. “No offense, Professor. I was kind of hoping to see a little of the city. Poke around a little.”

“We can meet up later,” Simon said and then added with a conspiratorial whisper in Whiteside’s direction. “He’s not the academic type.”

Whiteside smiled in understanding.

“Speaking of, is that Budge?” Simon asked, nodding down at Whiteside’s book.

“Yes!” he said, pleased and obviously not realizing Simon could read the author’s name at the top of the page. “It’s quite good. Really quite good. Have you read his Legends of the Gods?”

“No,” Simon said. “I—”

“Fascinating!” Whiteside said as he ran his finger over the text and read with dramatic flair. “The legend of Heru-Behutet begins with Horus holding the hippopotamus-fiend with a chain and spear! Behind him stand—”

“Father,” Christina admonished. “Not at dinner. Remember the rules?”

It took Whiteside a moment to stop the freight train of his enthusiasm, but when he finally did, his face filled with chagrin. “You’re right, of course, my dear. Forgive me?”

She smiled kindly at him. The shy child was gone, and a lovely, compassionate young woman appeared.

Whiteside put his hand over his daughter’s. “Her mother, God rest her soul, made me promise not to bring my work to the table. Said the sand got into everything.” He smiled and laughed lightly, but it was clear to everyone that the thought of his late wife still grieved him deeply. Simon did not blame him for that. He cast a quick glance at Elizabeth. He did not blame him at all.

Dinner was surprisingly good. The food wasn’t quite up to the level one would find in the finest French restaurants in Europe and New York, but it was still excellent. Both Whiteside and his daughter were pleasant enough company and, as far as Simon could tell, genuine. There was always the risk that anyone they might meet could be an agent of the mysterious Shadow Council Travers had mentioned. However, Simon found that highly unlikely in the Whiteside’s case.

They spoke openly and freely of their lives in England where the Professor had retired from teaching and his position as curator for the Ashmolean, a venerable and well-respected museum at Oxford. Representatives from every major museum in the world were in Egypt for the season, all vying for the best artifacts to send back home.

“A nest of vipers,” Whiteside called them. “Don’t let Winlock’s winsome good looks fool you,” he added with a nod toward the excavator from New York’s Metropolitan Museum, who was anything but handsome. “Beneath that broad smile and broader mustache lies the heart of a brigand. Mata Hari in tweed.”

Whiteside’s eyes flashed with humor and he couldn’t contain his smile.

“Oh, father,” Christina chided him gently.

“In all seriousness, it is nasty business—acquisitions. There’s a great deal of money at stake.”

“And no small measure of pride,” Christina added with a sly smile.

His eyes glittered. “It is quite the dangerous game.”

“Don’t believe everything my father says. He’s prone to exaggeration.”

He might have been overstating things a bit, Simon admitted, but considering the money involved in antiquities, he might not be far off. Had that been why Mason befriended Whiteside? Was the watch mixed in with other collectables?

“Are you here to acquire for the museum?” Elizabeth asked.

“Oh, I’m retired. Although a little business, a little pleasure.”

“And speaking of,” Christina said, ignoring her father’s glare. “I don’t see why I can’t go to the Bazaar alone. I’ve been dozens of times.”

“Never alone,” he said. “This is a wonderful country,” he said and then grew serious. “But you’ll be hard pressed to find a man who won’t try to cheat you.”

“Father!”

Simon wasn’t surprised by Whiteside’s attitude. His was typical of the British of the day. The occupier always thinks the people he conquers are better off by his occupation than they were before. Of course, the occupation of Egypt had little to do with improving the life of its citizens and far more to do with unfettered access to the lucrative Suez Canal.

Whiteside’s expression was unashamed. “Well, it’s the truth, my dear. And the gyppos at the Bazaar are the worst of the lot. It’s not at all safe for a young lady alone.”

Christina sulked, but only for a moment. Her eyes lit up and shifted to Jack. “What if I had an escort?”

Whiteside’s eyes narrowed. “Who?”

“Mr. Wells,” she said brightly. “He’s new to Egypt and wants to see some of the city. The least I can do is to show him around and he can be my protector.”

Whiteside frowned. “I’m not certain that’s entirely proper, Christina. You understand, of course?” he added to Jack.

But before Jack could say anything, Christina jumped in. “Diana will be back in the morning. What if the three of us go? She can chaperone.”

Whiteside considered it.

“I would like to see the Bazaar,” Jack said. “And I promise to be a perfect gentleman.”

“Yes, of course,” Whiteside said quickly, embarrassed to be seen questioning his guest’s honor. “Of course. If you can make arrangements with Diana,” he said as his daughter beamed in response.

“And we three shall go to the museum,” Whiteside continued. He lifted his glass. “Quite the day!”

CHAPTER TEN

“Do you want my coat?” Simon offered. The night was cool, but not cold. Elizabeth’s green silk halter dress didn’t afford much in the way of warmth, but she didn’t mind. The air felt good.

She shook her head and leaned into him as they walked. The grounds were lush and large. Paths lit with tiki torches wound their way through the palms and flowers and fountains. Fairy lights lined the edges of the hotel and looked like fireflies winking on and off as they went deeper into the garden.

Simon was quiet as they walked, which wasn’t all that unusual. He was comfortable with silence. But Elizabeth could feel the slight tension in his body, in the way he held his shoulders. This wasn’t the easy silence of an evening at home reading or sitting by the fire, this silence was hiding something.

“Are you all right?” she asked. She squeezed his arm. “You’re all tense.”

“Fine,” he lied.

She frowned, but didn’t press him and leaned back into his side as they walked along a path. “I think things are going pretty well really.”

Simon looked down at her about to argue the point, but didn’t. “We did make progress,” he conceded. “It is a daunting prospect though, isn’t it? The watch could be with anyone, anywhere in the city. Assuming it’s still even in Cairo.”

“True, but Mason went out of his way to befriend Whiteside. He only would have done that if he thought Whiteside could help lead him to the watch.” Elizabeth chewed on her lower lip. “Or thought that Whiteside had the watch himself.”

Simon nodded. “Possible, but it seems unlikely. Mason didn’t seem the sort to play games. Why not simply take the watch and leave town?”

Elizabeth thought about it for a moment. “Well, even if Whiteside doesn’t have the watch, I don’t think Mason would have gotten close to him if he didn’t believe he needed him to get to the watch.”

“Mason was quite paranoid on the train,” Simon agreed. “And that fellow who lost the watch in the first place, his simply disappearing without a trace does complicate things immeasurably.”

Elizabeth tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “I understand why Mason was so cagey with the details of what he found out, the fewer people who know and all that, but it does make our job a lot harder.”

Simon ran his hand down her arm. “At least we know he thought it was here. Now.”

“Maybe it’s in a collection somewhere or mixed up in a museum archive?”

“Possibly,” Simon said and then brought them to a halt near a large gnarled sycamore tree. “There’s something else that makes our job more difficult. We mustn’t write off Mason’s paranoia as simply paranoia. If what Travers says about the Shadow Council is true, there may well be other operatives here right now.”

“Operatives?” Elizabeth said as she turned and slipped her arms around his waist. “That sounds so…Bondish.”

“Elizabeth—”

“I know,” she said before he could. “This is serious.” She put one hand on his chest. “I’m not taking any of this lightly, Simon. I understand what’s at stake.”

Simon took hold of her hand and kissed it.

“At least Travers bought us some time. I’d always kind of wondered why the Council didn’t come and try to take your watch away,” she said.

Whatever his reasons, Elizabeth was grateful for Travers running interference for them. He’d known the details of each of their last adventures, and yet, the Council hadn’t come for the watch. For reasons she wasn’t quite sure she believed, he’d hidden their presence and destroyed any trace of their involvement as the Shadow Council grew in power.

Whatever mechanism the Council had used to keep tabs on the watches, Travers had destroyed as well. Without it, the watches and their owners were basically wiped off the grid, untraceable. It had been a difficult choice, he’d said. But they had to do everything they could to keep the watches out of the hands of the Shadows, even if in the process it made it nearly impossible for the good guys to find the watches as well. It bought them time, and in their business time was everything.

Simon had been reluctant to believe Travers, but he had protected them. Although, she knew their anonymity would not last forever.

Simon’s forehead wrinkled in worry and she knew he was sharing her train of thought.

Elizabeth reached up and cupped his cheek. “We can do this. Together.”

Simon covered her hand with his own and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, they were filled with an emotion she couldn’t name.

“What is it?”

He let out a deep breath and stepped away from her. “I can’t get last night out of my head.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “What do you mean? It was scary, but it all worked out.”

Simon shook his head. “But what if it hadn’t? I spent all night in that tent wondering what was happening, what they were…doing to you, and—”

Elizabeth closed the distance between them. “But nothing happened.”

“But it could have, Elizabeth. The not knowing…” Simon said, his voice rough.

Elizabeth’s heart dropped. She’d never stopped to consider what it must have been like from his perspective. She felt like such a fool. The men had treated her well, but Simon had no way of knowing that. She’d been so busy trying to save the world, she’d ignored the one part of it that meant the most to her.

“I’m sorry.” Elizabeth said as she shook her head and sighed. She took hold of his hand and traced the contours of his palm. “If you want to go home,” she said and then looked up into his eyes. “We’ll go.”

He shook his head and took a firm grasp of her hand. “You’re right to want to stay. I just—”

“Worry. I know. I didn’t think…” Elizabeth’s eye filled with concern. “Why didn’t you tell me how you felt?”

Simon started to answer, but fell silent. She knew the answer. Unlike her, he’d put her feelings in front of his own. He wanted to take her home and keep the world the away, but he hadn’t because it wasn’t what she wanted. He’d met her selfishness with selflessness. Worst of all, he’d kept his pain to himself.

“Do you remember when we were in London,” she asked, “and I reached a point where I was just overwhelmed with what we had to do, what we had to face?”

“I remember.”

Elizabeth smiled at the memory. “I fled into the bathroom for a good cry, and you came in. Do you remember what you told me?”

“You said,” Elizabeth continued, “that I didn’t ever have to hide from you.” She touched his cheek and her voice began to tremble with emotion. “Simon, don’t you know that you can always be honest with me? Always.”

Simon closed his eyes and a let out a shaky breath. He clenched his jaw and covered her hand with his before easing it to his lips and gently kissing her palm. “Yes,” he said in a voice rough with emotion.

“I want to stay,” he said finally and then shook his head ruefully, “But I won’t ever stop worrying about you.”

“I’m sorry—”

Simon shook his head and pressed a finger to her lips. He leaned down and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around his neck as she pulled him closer.

~ ~ ~

“She’ll be here soon,” Christina assured him and then looked anxiously down the long corridor of the lobby.

Jack smiled. Christina might be in a hurry, but he wasn’t. He’d been a nut to rush headlong into babysitting last night. Now, in the bright light of morning, he was regretting it. Elizabeth would have been better suited to the task. But there was nothing to do about it now. He’d volunteered, like an idiot, for the assignment.