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In answer from him, there came only silence. A very meaningful silence.
‘I do,’ I repeated in an agree-with-me-now-or-I’ll-bash-your-head-in tone. ‘Always!’
‘Hm. Well. Do your best. We don’t want to arouse suspicion.’
‘Yes, Sir.’
I did the best I could. I really did. I walked like a proper lady. I smiled like a proper lady. I even held my parasol like a proper lady, quite voluntarily, to protect myself from the merciless sun. But I couldn’t keep my eyes from almost bugging out of their sockets. This was it! What I had been waiting for so many years! Adventure and excitement in a mysterious foreign country, far removed from the drab life of London, far away from balls and aunts and pesky suitors. As we sailed into the circular harbour, it seemed to welcome me with open arms. I took a deep breath of the sea air, filled with the smell of spices.
‘Let’s go!’
The moment we touched land, I was rudely awakened from my dreams. Mr Ambrose grabbed my arm and dragged me down the gangway to a waiting carriage. To anyone else it must have been looking as though he was courteously guiding me - but I felt the tightness of his grip and knew better. He wouldn’t let go.
‘Get in!’ he hissed, under his breath. ‘And smile! Pretend we are two happy people on holiday!’
‘Is this really necessary?’
‘There are three men in kaftans[15] watching us from over there. And another one is watching from the fishing boat to your left. Smile!’
I pulled my lips into a carnivorous grimace. ‘How about this?’
‘You’ll need to work on it.’
‘Why don’t you smile, too?’
‘I’m a man, in the company of a woman. Nobody expects me to.’
‘You arrogant, impertinent…!’
‘Smile, I said! And get into the coach.’
Reluctantly, I did as he said. Mr Ambrose climbed in behind me and thumped his new cane-and-sword against the roof.
‘Drive!’
The coach jerked forward, and I shot him a mutinous look.
‘I still don’t see why you wanted me to put all this on,’ I said, gesturing to my dress, made from the finest blue and red silk, with golden embroidery. The hands with which I was gesturing were bedecked with jewels. ‘I mean… it’s very flattering, but it’s not really convenient for bandit-hunting.’
‘I told you: it is more inconspicuous. A man with his secretary - that might arouse suspicion, particularly if agents of Dalgliesh are indeed watching, and they know of me. But a man and a girl…’
‘…will be even more conspicuous. Conspicuous? Ha, what am I saying, it will be the biggest scandal of the city within a few hours! People will think I’m your mistress, or even worse, and they’ll talk about it from sunup till sundown. It’s not exactly considered decent or normal for gentlemen to travel with strange girls!’
‘Not with strange ones, no.’
I blinked at him, but he didn’t seem in the mood to explain his cryptic answer, so I let it rest. What did I care about my reputation in the city of Alexandria? I would leave this place again in a few weeks and probably never see it again.
The drive to the hotel was long and hot. To judge from the noise, the streets were as crowded as could be. I heard conversations, yelling and cursing in what I assumed to be Arabic, but I couldn’t see a soul. Mr Ambrose had pulled the blinds down, and I was too apprehensive of the reasons to ask him to pull them up again.
Spies? Sharp shooters? Something worse?
Finally, the carriage came to a halt. Opening the door, Mr Ambrose revealed a staircase leading up to a… was it a royal palace?
It certainly looked like one, towering above us almost as high as Empire House, with finely crafted statues of ancient Egyptian kings decorating the façade and blooming gardens all around. But the words ‘Luxor Hotel’ over the entrance, and the uniformed porter already waiting to take our cases, indicated something other than a royal residence.
‘You spent enough money to rent rooms in this place?’ I raised an eyebrow at Mr Ambrose. ‘Are you sure you’re feeling well?’
Surprisingly, he didn’t try to bite my head off. No, he simply nodded and said: ‘It was necessary.’
