Page 4 of The Mistress of Ashmore Castle (Ashmore Castle #3)
The climate in Egypt was reckoned to be perfect in December for digging, still hot by English standards, but not uncomfortably so; a little rain on the coast but none inland.
Nevertheless, there was a general inclination to stop for a day or two at Christmas.
Most of the archaeology community was taking the train into Cairo to stay at hotels or with friends and enjoy the delights of civilisation.
Giles, having been on site only for a few weeks, was already impatient at the idea of suspending work, but an invitation from Lord Cromer, the consul general, to a ball on Christmas Eve could not be lightly dismissed.
‘Why me?’ he complained, showing the invitation to his friends Talbot and Mary Arthur. ‘He hasn’t asked you or Max.’
‘You’re an earl,’ Mary Arthur said. ‘I expect he has to impress Egyptian officials. And the French diplomatic circle. Perhaps even merchants.’
‘Well, I didn’t come all the way out here to start this nonsense again – balls and dinners, indeed!’
The letter from Lord Cromer’s aide, Guy Bellamy, which accompanied the invitation, explained that as the consulate-general building was only leased and not very commodious, the ball and its preceding dinner were to be held in a private mansion, lent for the occasion by a Mr Walton Antrobus.
A handwritten letter had come for Giles by the same delivery, from Mr Antrobus inviting him to stay with him and his wife at Ismailia House for as long as he cared to.
‘And who is this Antrobus person?’ Giles continued, showing them the letter. ‘I don’t know him.’
‘He’s an American, what vulgarians these days call a millionaire,’ said Talbot. ‘Cotton and timber, I believe. Inherited the business from his papa, and now spreads joy around the world by spending his fortune wherever the whim takes him.’
‘All true,’ said Mary, ‘but Tal’s being whimsical. He doesn’t mention that Antrobus and his wife are cultured people and keen Egyptologists. They’re coming to join the dig some time in the new year.’
‘Well, I’m damned if I’m going,’ Giles grumbled. ‘It’s bad enough getting into evening clothes in England.’
‘You did bring them?’ Talbot said suspiciously.
Mary laughed. ‘See his face! Of course he did!’
‘I thought I might need them on the ship, that’s all.’
Talbot patted his hand. ‘Don’t be a fool, old chap. There’ll be a decent dinner, clean sheets and hot water. Take the opportunity to get the sand out of your hair. And look, how thoughtful – he suggests you come as early as you can on Christmas Eve, so that you can get ready at leisure.’
‘That is kind,’ Giles acknowledged reluctantly. ‘But I don’t have a man.’
‘There’s bound to be a footman who can help you dress.’
‘Besides,’ Mary added, ‘everyone’s going to Cairo, and you can hardly stay here and dig all by yourself.’
Giles took the sleeper train: it was more comfortable to travel at night when it was cooler, and the monotonous scenery along the bank of the canal was not something one would mind missing.
He shared the compartment with a portly Frenchman, who seemed eager for conversation, so Giles feigned ignorance of the language and then feigned sleep.
With the moving air coming in through the open vent, and the slow rhythm of the wheels, sleep soon became a reality, and he woke only in the morning when the train passed joltingly over several sets of points outside the city.
When he stepped down with his bag to look for a taxi, he was accosted by a chubby-faced young man, who introduced himself as Wrexham J. Antrobus and said his father had sent him to conduct Giles to the house.
‘How did you recognise me?’ Giles said in surprise.
‘Oh, Dad cut a picture of you out of the Egyptian Gazette . We get it sent up from Alexandria. They snapped you getting off the ship, sir. They always report when important people come out from England. This way, if you please. We have a car waiting.’
Giles was impressed. Motor-cars were rare in Cairo, where the over-burdened donkey and the skinny, depressed horse were the usual modes of transport.
It was large and gleaming, and had attracted a huge crowd of barefoot boys, who were being waved off, like troublesome flies, by the uniformed attendant, only to regather as soon as he turned another way.
Antrobus junior followed Giles into the back seat, having seen his bag stowed.
‘Is that all your luggage? Very well, Nobbs, straight home. I understand you haven’t brought your man with you, my lord.
My father’s valet Afton will take care of you while you’re here.
Have you breakfasted? Do you know Cairo well?
Would you care for me to point out places of interest as we go by? ’
Giles gathered the young man was nervous, and that nerves made him loquacious.
He let the talk wash over him and enjoyed the sensation of being wafted through the early-morning streets, with the shadows of the trees still long across the road and a freshness still in the air, in a comfortable conveyance that scattered the equine traffic and carved itself a passage by its novelty and importance.
Ismailia House turned out to be very large and grand, built in the ponderous French boulevard style.
Curved steps up led to vast wooden double doors, standing open on a lobby, with glass doors beyond to keep out the flies.
Then came an enormous entrance hall that made Giles think of a very superior hotel, with its marble floors and pillars, a decided prevalence of crimson and gilt, potted palms and mirrors everywhere.
Young Antrobus ushered Giles in. ‘Here he is, Dad. Lord Stainton, may I introduce my father, Mr Walton P. Antrobus?’
Antrobus turned out to be a tall man, brisk-looking in a smart suit, with a fair face, receding hair and gold-rimmed eye-glasses.
He beamed, shook Giles’s hand heartily and said how honoured he was to welcome him to his house.
‘Now you must please consider the place as your own, make yourself comfortable, and anything you want, anything at all, you just say the word, and it’s yours. ’
‘You’re very kind, Mr Antrobus,’ Giles murmured, feeling overwhelmed and wondering if flight was a possibility.
‘Walt, please! It’s Walt. And the boy here is Wrex. At your service – entirely. We couldn’t be happier to have you here. And you must let me present my wife – the real brains of the outfit! It was she who first got me interested in archaeology. Minnie, my dear. Lord Stainton, my wife Minnie.’
A very pleasant-looking, well-dressed lady with a distinct likeness to her son was shaking his hand and he was struggling to keep his eyes on her and respond to her kind welcome, because he was desperate to stare over her shoulder to where a young woman stood: a slim young woman in midnight blue, with large dark eyes and a rather uncertain smile, under a mass of dark hair, coarse and vigorous as a pony’s mane.
He had said something proper, he couldn’t be sure what, and now at last might legitimately move his gaze.
Mrs Antrobus gestured the young woman forward and said, ‘I believe you are already acquainted with Miss Lombardi? Giulia, my dear? Giulia is my companion and assistant. We are going out to the Valley of the Kings as soon as the festive season is over, and it wouldn’t be proper or pleasant for me to go without another female for support. ’
‘Yes,’ said Giles, in a daze. ‘I know Giulia very well.’ Her warm hand was in his, and she was looking at him with that same slightly hesitant smile. ‘I studied under her father.’
‘Oh, yes, Professor Lombardi and I have an acquaintance in common,’ Antrobus was saying.
‘Dear old Doctor Belzoni. Have you read his Temples and Tombs of Egypt and Nubia ? A seminal work. It was the first book Minnie recommended to me on ancient Egypt. It got me so hooked that when I discovered Dr Belzoni had moved from Italy to our fine country, to a chair at our local university, I couldn’t wait to meet him.
And meet him I did! Wealth has its privileges, you see.
Then when Minnie and I were first coming to Europe the doctor gave us a letter of introduction to Professor Lombardi.
He and his family couldn’t have been kinder to us both. We’ve all become good friends since.’
‘Yes,’ said Giles, releasing Giulia’s hand at last. ‘I am well acquainted with the Lombardis’ kindness.’
‘I haven’t a doubt of it! Well, Giulia’s quite accustomed to taking notes for her father – and I’m pretty sure she knows more about antiquities than me and Minnie put together – so when she offered to accompany us as Minnie’s companion and secretary, we couldn’t have been more pleased.’
‘I second every word of that, and more,’ said Mrs Antrobus. ‘Giulia’s a treasure, and quite like a daughter to us. But, Walt, dear, why are we keeping his lordship standing in the hall?’
‘Oh, good Lord, what a pumpkin head I am! You must want coffee after that long train ride. And breakfast! Won’t you come on through?
Or would you sooner go to your room and have a bath first?
But you must be starving. See here, there’s a closet just off the lobby, where you could wash your hands and splash your face, and then have breakfast right away, and go up to your room afterwards.
By then my man Afton, who is going to attend you, will have got everything unpacked and have a bath ready for you. How does that seem?’