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I choked on a date. “What?”
He sat motionless, visibly weighing his response. After a beat he said, “We’re to board theElephantineafter dinner this evening. Early next morning, we sail for the excavation site from Bulaq.”
“Where is that?” I tried to keep my tone neutral, but the idea of them sailing up the Nile without me stung. I hadn’t found the shop where Papá might have bought the golden ring. I hadn’t discovered anything of note regarding my parents’ disappearance.
“Clear across the city,” Mr. Hayes said, his voice oddly gentle. “Come now. No need to look as if you’ve lost your puppy. You can always come back once your uncle’s temper has cooled down. He only wants to keep you safe, and he can’t be expected to watch over you while running an excavation team.”
I bristled. “Why do you and my uncle insist that I’m in some kind of danger? Look around! There seem to be plenty of tourists enjoying the sights. Cairo looks perfectly safe to me.”
Mr. Hayes’s eyes glittered a frozen blue. “Does it?”
“Did you know you ask a question when you wish to avoid a subject?”
“Do I?”
“Yes. It’s unspeakably annoying.”
Mr. Hayes rearranged his handsome features into a look of contrition, which I didn’t believe. “Sorry, Señorita Olivera.”
We stared at each other in cold silence until he grudgingly said, “Cairoisperfectly safe. Ricardo isn’t worried about that. He has other reasons.”
“And they are?”
“You’ll have to speak to him.”
Everything came back to my uncle. I couldn’t tear my gaze away from the large clock hanging on the wall. Every tick forward meant one minute lost. I only had a few hours left to figure out my next move. Otherwise, Tío Ricardo and his team would sail up the Nile without me. My attention swerved away from my irritating companion and to the other people dining around us, filling every available table.
One man in particular seemed very familiar to me. The slicked-back hair, the cut of his coat. I looked closely. The Englishman turned his head, lifting his coffee to his pursed mouth. The man’s profile struck a chord deep in my belly. My gaze flickered to his companion. My body recognized him before my mind did, a deep feeling of unease pooling in my belly. Hot anger ran up my throat.
The white-haired gentleman was Sir Evelyn. The man on his right was Mr. Sterling.
And on his littlest finger, he wore Cleopatra’s golden ring.
CAPÍTULO DIEZ
I had several options and none of them were suitable. I could stand and yellthiefat the top of my voice or march over to their table and demand Mr. Sterling return the ring. Logic begged me to use my head, to not draw undue attention onto myself. Mr. Sterling never found out my real name, but if he spotted me now, he might be able to follow me or, at the very least, inquire after my companion.
Mr. Hayes was well-known in this part of the world.
Surreptitiously, I glanced toward Sir Evelyn and the toad-faced Mr. Sterling. This afternoon he certainly looked like one in his green velvet smoking jacket and matching waistcoat. Mr. Hayes followed my gaze and raised his brows.
“Do you see what I see?” I asked in a low murmur.
Mr. Hayes stood. “I’m always aware of my surroundings.”
“Well, I don’t want him to notice me so it’s best if we’re off.”
“Right.” He left money on the table and then took my arm and swiftly led me through the large dining space. “Time to return to the hotel.”
We hurried outside and Mr. Hayes strode to the sidewalk and let out another sharp whistle. A carriage pulled up to the curb and after helping me climb in, he settled in the seat across from mine. He gave directions to the driver and we lurched forward.
“Are you going to attempt to retrieve the ring from Mr. Sterling?” I whispered.
Mr. Hayes continued to peer outside, one finger lightly tapping on the window frame. “Have you asked yourself why he’s wearing it at all?”
I shook my head. “I was angry and unable to think beyond that. The way he took it from me, the arrogance, quite literally made me see red. You should have heard the way he made me out to behysterical.Someone to be dismissed.”
His lips flattened to a pale slash. “Bastard.”
