Page 155
"Why should I not kill you! You tell me!" came the seething voice in her ear.
The hand suddenly let her go. Gasping, she fell forward over the dressing table.
"Ramses!" she screamed, the breath rushing out of her. "Ramses!"
The door of the powder room opened; two women stopped dead in their confusion. Beside her, Cleopatra rose from the table and plunged past them, knocking one of them to the side. In a flurry of streaming black hair and shimmering silver cloth she vanished.
Julie fell sobbing to the floor.
People shouting; hurried footsteps. An old woman with soft wrinkled hands was helping her to her feet.
"Have to get to Ramses," she said. She struggled towards the door. The other women tried to stop her. She sh
ould sit down. "Someone get a glass of water!" "No, let me go!"
Finally she reached the door, and forced her way through it, through the small knot of ushers gathered. Ramses came rushing towards her; she collapsed in his arms.
"She was there," she gasped in his ear. "She spoke to me. She touched me." She moved her hand to her aching throat. "She ran away when the others came in."
"What is it, miss?"
"Miss Stratford, what happened?"
"No, I'm all right now." He almost lifted her off her feet, and carried her away from them.
"Well, all I saw was another woman with her; yes, a tall woman, black hair."
Into the foyer of the box, he led her, a quiet private space. She tried to clear her vision; Elliott and Samir stood over her suddenly, and the music, the music was a ghastly din pouring through the curtains. Samir filled a glass with champagne for her. How absurd! Champagne.
"Here in the auditorium somewhere. Dear God, she was like a terrible angel! A goddess! Ramses, she knew me, my name. She knew me. She spoke of vengeance for Antony. Ramses, she knew who I was!"
His face was a mask of rage. He started for the door. She grabbed hold of him, knocking the champagne glass over. "No, don't go! Don't leave my side!" she whispered. "She could have killed me. She wanted to. But then she couldn't. Ramses! She's a living, feeling creature! Oh, God, what have you done, what have I done!"
A bell had sounded within the auditorium. People were streaming out into the open spaces. And Alex would be searching for her; and perhaps he would find them.
She could not clear her head; she could not bring herself to move.
She stood on the high iron balcony, above the iron steps that descended to a dark, neglected alleyway, the door open to the lights and the noise to her right. The city was a haze of soft lamps and rooftops, of shining domes, and towers piercing the deep azure sky. She could not see the Nile from here, but it didn't matter. The air was cool and sweet; full of the scent of the green trees below.
Suddenly, she heard his voice:
"Your Highness, I've been searching for you everywhere."
"Hold me, Alex," she whispered. "Hold me in your arms." She took a deep breath as she felt him close to her, his warm hands on her. Gently he moved her back to sit on the iron steps that went upward to yet another balcony above.
"You're ill," he said. "I must get something for you to drink."
"No, stay close to me," she said. She knew her voice was barely audible. She stared out at the lights of the city almost desperately. She wanted somehow to cling to this vision of the modern city; to move towards it mentally out of her anguish. It was her only escape. That and the boy beside her, the clean innocent male thing that held her and kissed her.
"What do I do?" she murmured in the old Latin. "Is it grief I feel, or rage? I only know it's suffering."
She was torturing him, but she didn't mean to. Had he understood her words?
"Open your heart to me," he said earnestly. "I love you, Your Highness. Tell me what's troubling you. I won't let anything hurt you. If it's in my power to stop it, I shall."
"I believe you, young lord," she said. "I feel love for you too."
But what was it she wanted? Would revenge cure the rage that was tearing her apart? Or should she retreat now, taking young Lord Alex with her, and move as far away from her mentor, her creator, as she could? It seemed for one moment the ache in her would consume everything--thought, hope, will. But then she realized something and it was like the sun again, the warm sun.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 91
- Page 92
- Page 93
- Page 94
- Page 95
- Page 96
- Page 97
- Page 98
- Page 99
- Page 100
- Page 101
- Page 102
- Page 103
- Page 104
- Page 105
- Page 106
- Page 107
- Page 108
- Page 109
- Page 110
- Page 111
- Page 112
- Page 113
- Page 114
- Page 115
- Page 116
- Page 117
- Page 118
- Page 119
- Page 120
- Page 121
- Page 122
- Page 123
- Page 124
- Page 125
- Page 126
- Page 127
- Page 128
- Page 129
- Page 130
- Page 131
- Page 132
- Page 133
- Page 134
- Page 135
- Page 136
- Page 137
- Page 138
- Page 139
- Page 140
- Page 141
- Page 142
- Page 143
- Page 144
- Page 145
- Page 146
- Page 147
- Page 148
- Page 149
- Page 150
- Page 151
- Page 152
- Page 153
- Page 154
- Page 155 (Reading here)
- Page 156
- Page 157
- Page 158
- Page 159
- Page 160
- Page 161
- Page 162
- Page 163
- Page 164
- Page 165