Abdullah trudged behind the two men as they walked back to camp from the dig site. Digby looked back at him and grimaced. For a dog, the man was quite competent, he found himself thinking. Although it was yet to be seen how loyal he was. Digby shoved his hands in the pockets of his jodhpurs, mimicking Carter as he walked ahead of him. They had spent an exhausting afternoon patrolling the work site, Carter pointing out one tomb entrance as more extraordinary than the last. As far as Digby was concerned, it was all just rubble and stone caves. He thought it was incredible how enthused the world got over what was clearly shoddy artisan workmanship. Some of the funeral vases Carter had unearthed were as rough as aboriginal stoneware. That is to say, primitive in the extreme.
But primitive or not, they would fetch a pretty pence with his man in Cairo. Well, perhaps not the funeral vases since Carter seemed to value them to the extent that he did everything short of sleep with them, but there were several lesser pieces within easy reach of an interested bystander. Digby smiled to himself.
Digby was white. He was English. He was trusted. It didn’t hurt that he had known Carnarvon at school, although perhaps he had exaggerated the connection in the telling just a tad.
He stumbled over a rock and wrenched his hands out of his pocket in time to avoid a fall. These outings were damned tiring. One tour of the rocky no man’s land that Carter looked at as his idea of nirvana had been more than enough. It took all his powers of dissembling to act enthusiastic about returning day after day. He was disappointed in his slowly-growing cache of stolen antiquities—a button, a tiny mold of something, a scrap of papyrus. Surely, there would be bigger treasure?
“Good evening, ladies,” Carter called out as they entered the camp.
Digby jerked his head up to see Julia and that American woman walking arm in arm back from the bathing tent. Now that would have been a better spent use of an hour, he thought wolfishly, as he waved back to them. His assumption that Julia would hate it at the dig site enough to insist on his removing her immediately had been thwarted by the American’s presence. First, it made it impossible to get Julia off alone in the desert. Second, the bloody woman appeared to be making the whole living-in-a-tent experience a tolerable one for Julia.
It was clear that the time had come to move things along—even with the complications that the American woman presented. His eyes narrowed as he watched the two women disappear into Julia’s tent to dress for dinner.
Perhaps, at the end of the day, Julia’s unfortunate accident would look even more believable if it involved two?
After a wonderful meal of roast lamb and couscous, the servers cleared the table and replaced the setting with wide-bottomed brandy decanters, crystal snifters and a heavy dessert wine. Julia was watching her closely and Ella knew another scolding about how she had spent the morning would be in the offing once they were alone.
Because Digby and his man, Abdullah, typically followed Carter around the valley all day, Julia was left alone in the camp for long hours at a time. While Ella knew she spent the time reading, napping and sketching, Ella also saw her friend becoming more and more tense and withdrawn. Although Julia was a competent rider—as most young women from her class were in England—she disdained the rugged, surefooted little Egyptian ponies, saying they were no better than the filthy donkeys that wandered everywhere and befouled the walking paths.
Ella was sorry that Julia couldn’t break out of her dour mood long enough to enjoy the magical Egyptian countryside. But Ella had given up trying and found herself partially grateful not to have Julia along, feeling she would surely put a damper on even the exquisite Egyptian sunrise.
Ella watched from the dinner table as dusk settled on the camp. She saw the shadows come towards the little encampment like an advancing army, blackening the western cliffs, and obliterating the appearance of their looming menace until all that was left was a canopy of glittering stars.
Carter had announced a surprise as soon as they seated themselves for the meal. Immediately after the coffee and brandy was poured and the cigars lighted, he stood up at the end of the table and, with much drama, pulled out a rolled papyrus and held it in his outstretched hands.
“I am delighted to share with you, my friends,” Carter said with unconcealed excitement, “a find today that is the first of many leading to what I believe will be considered the most significant archaeological find of the century.”
Ella noticed Digby frown and wondered if he was annoyed because he wasn’t in on the surprise. She saw his eyes flash to Abdullah as if to say: why did I not know about this?
Very carefully, Carter laid the papyrus down on the table and unrolled it to expose a yard-square portion. Using crystal decanters and polished stones as paper weights, he anchored the four corners of the paper. Everyone jumped up from their chairs to crowd around him to see the document.
“No drinks, if you please, ladies, Digby,” Carter said. “Mustn’t take the chance of dribbling claret on one of the finest examples of a Book of the Dead I have ever seen.”
Ella started. This was the Book of the Dead? So obviously there was more than one of them. She squeezed under Carter’s elbow to peer at the document. The segment of the scroll visible revealed a complex series of illustrations and hieroglyphics. Many of the drawings were very faint.
“I say, old man,” Digby said behind her, his hips pressing against her bottom in his eagerness to see the book over her shoulder. “That is bloody marvelous!”
“Yes, isn’t it?” Carter said, clearly delighted with his find. Ella squirmed to get away from the pressure of Digby as he ground his pelvis into her backside. He cupped her bottom with his hand and she pushed it away.
“Is it valuable?” Julia asked.
“Oh, it is invaluable,” Carter said. “I will be deciphering it tonight but I couldn’t wait to show it to you. It is a guide to the treasures that await the dead. All royalty had these to aid them in their journey to the afterlife.”
Ella pushed back against Digby and jammed her heel into his instep. The result was negligible as his foot was protected in a hard leather boot and her heel in only a soft slipper. Nonetheless, he removed his hand as she pushed out of the scrum of bodies around Carter.
“Well, it’s very impressive,” Ella said, giving a filthy look to Digby as she walked back to her chair. He continued to look over Carter’s shoulder as if nothing had happened.
“So the kings and queens were buried with these Books of the Dead?” Julia asked vapidly. Ella had never seen a more staged expression of interest. Julia clearly did not give a damn.
Carter responded eagerly. “Oh, yes, it was their roadmap to reaching heaven. Metaphorically. The Egyptians believe that there are many tests one must pass in the afterlife if they are to achieve the paradise that awaits them. These documents are the answer sheet, if you will. They are full of the incantations to create the magic when it is needed. In some cases, the incantations can actually prevent or even reverse certain death.”
“You see this?” he said, pointing to one of the faint illustrations. “That is clearly Anubis who most recently deceased Egyptians would expect to encounter. This papyrus lays it all out such that the owner may answer the tests appropriately. One couldn’t expect to reach the afterlife without a properly detailed, personalized Book of the Dead.”
“Did all Egyptians have one of these? Because it looks pretty time consuming to create,” Julia asked as she reseated herself.
“Oh, no my dear. Only royalty and the wealthy.”
“So, common Egyptians couldn’t expect to make it to the afterlife?” Ella asked.
“I’m afraid not,” Carter said, chuckling. “Only those with enough money got the treasures. As it is in life it is after death.”
“That sucks,” Ella said. The words were out of her mouth before she realized she was speaking. Three heads snapped to look at her.
“I…I said, aw shucks,” she stuttered. “It’s an American phrase. I’m not sure it translat
es.”
“I have heard of it,” Julia said brightly, obviously trying to cover for her.
Later, after the party had dispersed to their separate tents, Ella wondered if she should say something to Julia about Digby trying to grope her through Carter’s Egyptology lecture. Clearly, the man was getting desperate. Which didn’t excuse his disgusting behavior, Ella thought. In any other time zone, she would have confronted him immediately and in no uncertain terms but there was a delicate balance in play here in this group. If she exposed Digby’s behavior she was not at all sure that she would be considered the aggrieved party.
She pulled off her dress and hung it next to the camp chair by her cot. As she pulled on her nightdress, the sound of a large pebble rolling down the rocky terrain outside her tent made her stop and hold her breath.
Someone or something had dislodged that rock.
She looked at her riding clothes stacked in a neat pile next to her bed and it occurred to her that, up to this point, she hadn’t missed not having a weapon with her. Because Ella’s tent had been erected last and hastily, it was situated near the path to the work site rather than the main sleeping and dining structures.
She heard a definite crunch of gravel under foot. The sound wasn’t repeated, leading her to guess that the person was attempting stealth. She looked around her tent for any kind of weapon and seeing only her riding crop, grabbed it and stood beside the tent’s entrance, waiting and breathing hard. She didn’t have to wait long.
The hand that reached into the tent entrance was white. Ella sucked in a breath as Digby burst in. He looked flushed from drink. While Ella expected a conversational standoff, and was fully prepared to provide the first onslaught of tongue lashing to get things going, Digby charged her and knocked her onto the bed. The crop fell to the floor.
Ella was too shocked to do more than emit a weak “oh!” before he twisted her facedown on the cot.
“Scream all you want, little one,” Digby sneered in a whisper, bringing his face down close to her ear. She could smell stale cigars and alcohol on his breath. “Only the bedcovers will hear.”
Panic overwhelmed Ella as she struggled to get a breath out, the bed blanket pressed tightly against her nose and mouth. She felt his rough hard hands rip her nightgown up over her hips. He jammed a hand between her legs, while holding her head down firmly with the other hand. She felt the pressure on her back lessen as he fumbled to undo the buttons on the front of his pants. Weakened and gasping for breath, Ella lost her opportunity to take advantage of the moment. In a flash, both hands were back, pushing her further and further into the bed covers. She could feel the touch of his insistent cock poised between her clenching buttocks.
Suddenly, she heard a low grunt and Digby jerked away. Ella wrenched her nightgown down over her hips as she turned to see William standing in the opening of her tent, his fists clenched at his sides, his eyes wild with loathing and lust. Digby now lay on her bed, his eyes blinking as if in surprise, blood pouring from his broken nose.
Ella jumped up and grabbed her dressing gown. “William!” she said, looking from him to Digby.
“I followed him,” he said, nodding at Digby who was sitting up on the bed. “I saw him enter. But you did not scream.” He looked at Digby and narrowed his eyes. He looked back at Ella and then at the ground.
“I did not scream,” she said, still gasping for precious breath, “because he jumped me before I could. Thank God you came when you did.”
William whirled around to face someone standing outside Ella’s tent. He gave Digby one last look over his shoulder and then fled.
“You bastard,” Ella said to Digby. “I’ll have you arrested and hung by your gonads for what you just tried to do.”
Digby yanked out a clean handkerchief and held it to his nose. “This just means that when it does happen,” he said, his voice muffled behind the cloth. “I’ll make sure it hurts.”
Ella was incredulous. “Get out!” she screamed. “Get out now!” From where she stood she could see why William had left. Abdullah was standing outside, waiting for his master.
Within moments, a small group of people, attracted by the noise, formed outside Ella’s tent. While Carter was not among them, his foreman, Josh Spenser was. He took charge immediately by ushering Digby, trailed by Abdullah, to Digby’s tent.
Julia ran to Ella and the two women fell into each other’s arms. There was no sign of William.
“Julia,” she said, “I don’t know whether he was intent on murdering me or just raping me but if it hadn’t been for William, he would have done both.”
“Who?” Julia said, holding Ella’s hands. “Edward?”
“Yes, Edward!” Ella said loudly. “Who do you think?
Julia screwed up her face as if trying to process what Ella was telling her and looked over her shoulder in the direction of Digby’s tent where she could see the light flickering and the shadows of the three men inside.
“Why would he do that?”
“Why? Gee, I don’t know, Julia, maybe because he’s a sex-starved pervert? Are you trying to tell me I don’t know who attacked me?”
“No, of course not, Ella.” But the way Julia looked at her, it was clear she did doubt what Ella was saying. “But why did William run away so quickly?”
“Are you kidding me?” Ella said. “You think I was getting it on with William and blaming Digby? William prevented that bastard from doing the deed!”
“Well, if he is a hero, why did he run?”
“Maybe because he’s Egyptian in a white man’s world and he knows he’s going to get screwed somehow in all this.” Ella sat down hard on her cot and realized that her hands were shaking.
Julia pulled up a chair and patted Ella’s knee. “Well, whatever happened,” she said, “it’s all over now. Do you want me to sleep in here tonight?”
Ella nodded.
A few moments later, Spenser called from outside Ella’s tent and she jumped up to open the flap to him.
“You ladies okay?” Up until then, Ella hadn’t realized the foreman was American. Just hearing his strong, familiar accent made her feel instantly better.
“Yes,” Ella said. “Thank you, Mr. Spenser.”
“I’m placing a couple of men at the front of your tent, Miss Stevens,” he said. “And one to the back. You shouldn’t have any more visitors tonight. We’ll sort all this out in the morning.”
“Thank you,” Ella said. Even with Julia sleeping in the tent with her, she was not confident that Digby wouldn’t try again later that night.
The Viscount pulled off his boots and tossed them on the floor of his tent. He moved his toes in his socks and ran a hand across his face. Abdullah squatted by the door flap as if ready to bolt on some vital errand should Digby give the word. Digby loosened his collar and regretted not insisting on a valet on this trip. That was back in the day when he was being so accommodating to his new bride. Why would she pinch pence? As rich as she was. He paused and made a face. As rich as they were.
Abdullah grunted and Digby glanced at him. While Spenser had been decent about it all—and certainly no hint of blame or culpability had fallen on himself—it was still damn galling to have to explain oneself. Digby supposed the American would feel it necessary to report the evening’s events to Carter. Another annoyance to be dealt with. If that goddamn dragoman hadn’t interfered he’d at least have been able to carry on a few weeks longer. As it was, he would have to hurry things along. He would need the money now sooner than later. And he still didn’t have a solid plan of how to arrange her death such that he was not the first person the police suspected.
His man grunted again and Digby looked over at him. When Abdullah solemnly drew a line across his throat, his eyes drilling into his master’s, Digby sighed and nodded. The man rose quickly and disappeared into the night leaving an almost visible odor vapor behind him.
Damn heathens, Digby thought, pulling his white tie out of its knot. Would it kill them to bath
e once in awhile?
The next morning, Ella slipped out of bed, careful not to awaken Julia. She tapped the guard on the shoulder as she left the tent and pointed to the central outdoor dining area. The guard, a black Egyptian with a long beard and a turban, nodded and resumed his watch on the tent.
Ella hurried to the main fire pit, looking for William. But he was nowhere to be seen. After a hurried cup of tea and a piece of buttered toast, she walked to where the ponies were tied on a long rope between two sycamore trees. She looked over her shoulder at Digby’s tent but he was a notoriously late riser and she didn’t expect this morning to be any different.
She went to the tack and feed shed and quickly found her mount’s bridle. She pulled her pony from the line of other horses and slipped the bridle on him.
It occurred to her that Digby viewed her as no differently than he did his servants or even his horse. As he saw it, he was merely exercising his station in society as her better. And now William—who knew the rules as well as anyone and who had broken them to save her—was at best, fired and at worst, being hunted for assault on a member of the English peerage.
She tossed the pony’s blanket on his back. After that first day, she had stopped riding with a saddle. Without boots, the stirrups were too dangerous. She found she felt more secure gripping the pony with her legs rather than sliding around a saddle that was too big for her anyway.
She had yet to decide what she would do about Digby. Clearly, he wasn’t finished with her. One thing was for sure, she would have to find a weapon of some kind.
Standing on the wooden mounting block, she nodded a greeting to the boy in charge of the camp donkeys. He was covered in some sort of skin infection and Ella found herself hoping it wasn’t contagious. She swung onto her pony and squeezed him into a quick trot up the hill toward the perimeter path that she took each morning. She loved seeing the whole valley spread out below her in the morning sunlight.
She stopped at a spot on the hilltop. Dawn was her favorite time of the day. She regretted that William couldn’t be here to share it with her. Thinking of him gave her an unsettled feeling. Had he gone home to his family in Luxor? Was he lying low so he could say goodbye to her? She looked around the circle of rocks and boulders where she sat waiting for the sunrise. He knew she came this way. Perhaps he was near?
Journey to the Lost Tomb (Rowan and Ella Book 2) Page 11