From the height where we stood, the Albions’s carriage was clearly visible. It had been there for several hours.

“We know them slightly,” I said. “Do you?”

“Albion was one of my best customers. I stopped dealing with him a few years ago, after he tried to cheat me.”

“Cheat you?” Emerson repeated. “I wouldn’t have thought anyone could.”

“Dear me, Radcliffe, was that meant to be sarcastic? He didn’t succeed. Watch out for him, that’s all I’m saying.”

When we parted for the day, Cyrus apologized for not inviting “Cousin Ismail” to dinner. “Got to stand guard tonight,” he explained. “But we’re expecting the door to arrive in a day or two; once that is up and secured, we hope, sir, to see a great deal of you. I would very much enjoy a private chat.”

“Thank you,” said my brother-in-law.

I had assumed he would stay with us. He said he had made other arrangements, but would be delighted to join us for tea and an early supper. Jumana’s presence prevented conversation of a personal nature, and when we got to the house Sennia was waiting on the veranda.

“So this is Sennia,” said Sethos, offering his hand. “I have heard a great deal about you – all to your credit, and all well deserved, I see.”

He had a way with women of all ages, and Sennia was no exception. Immensely flattered at the grown-up speech and gesture, she gravely shook hands with him. “Thank you, sir. I have not heard about you, though. Are you a friend of ours?”

“A very old friend” was the smiling reply. “Isn’t that so, Radcliffe?”

“You call him Radcliffe?” Sennia spread her skirts in a ladylike manner and took the chair he held for her. “He doesn’t like to be called that, you know.”

“I had no idea,” Sethos exclaimed. “What shall I call him, then?”

“Well, I call him Professor,” Sennia explained. “Aunt Amelia calls him Emerson, or ‘my dear,’ and Nefret calls him Father, which he is, and Ramses calls him ‘sir,’ and some people call him ‘Father of Curses.’ ”

“Perhaps ‘sir’ would be best,” said Sethos, wrinkling his brow. “What do you think, Sennia?”

I decided it was time to intervene. Emerson was biting his lip and muttering. “Speaking of names,” I said, “perhaps you would allow us – your old friends – to use your given name.”

“Call me anything you like, Amelia dear” was the smiling and uninformative response.

At least it got us off the subject of names, though Sethos continued to address his brother deferentially as ‘sir,’ which made Emerson swear under his breath.

“Do you know Mr. Vandergelt too?” Sennia asked.

“Oh, yes. One might say I know him as well as he knows himself.” He left Sennia to puzzle over this enigmatic remark, which the rest of us understood quite well. “I have not met Mrs. Vandergelt, though, or her son.”

“Can we have a party?” Sennia asked eagerly.

“We must certainly arrange something,” I remarked. “But it will have to wait until the tomb is locked up.”

“A wise precaution,” Sethos agreed gravely. “One never knows, does one?”

“We are glad to have you here, sir,” Nefret said. “You will stay, we hope, for Cyrus’s celebration.”

“He has good reason to celebrate,” Sethos said. “And I understand you and your husband have another cause for rejoicing.”

“How did you – how do you -?” Nefret gasped.

“I have my sources,” said Sethos. He held out his hand, and when he spoke the mockery was gone from his face and voice. “I wish you joy, Nefret. And you, Ramses. I suppose you’ll be returning to England before long?”

“Our child will be born in Egypt, as is fitting,” Nefret said. “Do you suppose I’d allow a pompous male English physician to take care of me, when there are two trained women obstetricians on the staff of my hospital?”

“What about you?” Emerson demanded of Sethos.

“I’m in no hurry to leave. England hasn’t much to offer me.” He smiled wickedly at his brother.

Emerson’s face reddened. “Neither has Luxor.”

“My dear fellow, I wouldn’t dream of interfering with your activities. In fact, I would be delighted to assist in any possible manner.”

“Ha,” said Emerson.

Nefret turned her chuckle into a cough.

After dinner the men went off to stand guard. Emerson declined, with thanks, Sethos’s offer to join them.

“Do you suppose he will ever get over suspecting my intentions?” inquired my brother-in-law, after we had retired to the sitting room.

“Perhaps,” Nefret suggested, “if you would get over teasing him…”

“I can’t resist, Nefret. He’s such an easy mark. I was teasing, though, when I implied I would stay on here. I must leave tomorrow.”

“So soon?” Nefret exclaimed. Impulsively she placed her hand on his shoulder. “You will miss Cyrus’s party. We want to keep you with us a while longer.”

“You really mean it, don’t you?” The strange gray-green eyes were, for once, very kind. “I’d like to, Nefret, but I can’t.”

“You are going back to the war, aren’t you?” I asked composedly. “I thought you had promised Margaret this would be your last assignment.”

“The job’s not finished yet, Amelia dear. I made a quick trip here because – well, for two reasons. I must be getting old; I did want to see all of you. The other reason is more… difficult.”

“Would you like me to leave?” Nefret asked.

“No. Please stay. Did Amelia tell you about a conversation we had recently concerning my daughter?”

Nefret’s eyes widened, and I said, “I considered it a private confidence. I have not even told Emerson.”

“Thank you, Amelia. I wasn’t quite myself at the time; what precisely did I say?”

“You said she held you accountable for her mother’s death, and that she had run away from home. You attempted to find her at that time, I presume. A girl of fifteen or sixteen should not have been able to elude a determined search.”

“She was sixteen. But very precocious in a number of ways. Like her mother. I did search, long and hard, without result. I believe she had help, from one of Bertha’s former friends – the same one who told Maryam – Molly – about her mother’s death. Recently I heard that she had found a – a protector, and was in Egypt. I’ve been playing with the Turks ever since; haven’t had time to look for her here.”

“I am very sorry,” Nefret said gently. “Can nothing be done to save her?”

“She doesn’t want to be saved. Especially by me.”

He had not given way, nor would he, but I knew he cared more for the girl than he would admit and that guilt as well as affection motivated his search. I began, “There is a chance that we might -”

“You may encounter her; our Egypt is a small world, in a sense. That is why I brought the subject up. But, Amelia dear, don’t assume that because you managed to reform me – up to a point – you can redeem the entire damned universe. If Maryam blames me for her mother’s death, how do you suppose she feels about you?”

He rose, rather heavily. “I’ll say good night, and good-bye. My regards to Ramses and – er – Emerson.”

“Won’t we see you again?” Nefret asked.

“Not this time. I have business in Luxor before I leave tomorrow. If you learn anything about Molly, a message to our mutual friend with the preposterous name will reach me eventually. He will notify you of any change in my situation.”

“Your death, you mean?” I asked steadily.

“Now, Amelia, it isn’t like you to look on the dark side. Who knows, it may be a wedding invitation!” His mocking smile faded and he said hesitantly, “If you should hear from Margaret -”

“I will write her tomorrow,” I promised. “Someone must know her current address.”

“Thank you.” He took my hand. “Turn your back, Nefret.”

She let out a gasp and so did I. Sethos laughed and caught me in his arms and kissed me – on the brow.

“You will always be the woman I love,” he said. “That doesn’t prevent me from loving Margaret as much. You understand, I think.”