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“What exactly is happening here?” he asked.
“Don’t think. Just read.”
India clapped her hands and Robertson announced Edgar.
“His Grace, the seventh Duke of Banksford, Marquess of Marbrooke, Earl of Glenmorgan, and Viscount Gordon.”
India was out to impress if she’d trotted out all of his titles. Maybe he should have gathered a few more details about this undertaking of hers.
All eyes turned to him. He walked to the front of the room before the velvet curtain.
Where were Miss Perkins and the children? He’d given the twins permission to attend.
He cleared his throat, holding up the piece of paper.
Damnably cramped handwriting Indy possessed.
“Esteemed guests. Eminent antiquarians. Ladies. Ravenwood,” Edgar nodded at the duke, the next ranking member of the audience. “We are gathered this evening to witness the unveiling of quite possibly the most momentous discovery in the history of archaeology.” He coughed slightly.
Not very modest, his sister.
“As you know, I sponsored Lady India’s expedition to the Karnak temple complex in Egypt. While she was there she made a startling discovery. An intact solid gold cartouche inscribed with the name of the Pharaoh Hatshepsut.”
He had no idea how to pronounce that and had probably just mangled it horribly.
“The same Pharaoh that her esteemed colleagues have named Amenenthe. But they are all wrong, and she will prove it this evening. Using the cartouche and several wall murals, Lady India was able to deduce that Amenenthe was actually Hatshepsut, and that Hatshepsutwas... well, see for yourselves.”
What on earth was that supposed to signify?
There was a parenthetical instruction to make a flourishing motion toward the stage.
Edgar ignored it. This was already silly enough.
India stepped forward out of the shadows.
“See for yourselves,” she repeated in a booming voice, throwing her hand out with palm facing the velvet curtains.
That was the cue for the footmen to appear and draw back the curtains of the stage that India must have had constructed in his parlor while he’d been gone the last few days.
What was behind the curtain? Edgar stepped to the side and turned.
A golden moon hung on a velvet sky.
In the distance, a stone pyramid painted on canvas.
Adele and Michel stood at the edge of the small stage, draped in white and waving dried palm fronds at a woman with bowed head.
The woman raised her head.
Edgar’s jaw dropped.
India was trying to kill him.
Chapter 17
Edgar stared at the stage.
Mari stood, her face turned in profile, slender neck regal as a queen. A two-tiered crown of gold topped hair that flowed down her back nearly to her slender waist.
