“Tío—”
“Safe journey, querida sobrina,” he said over his shoulder before shutting the door with a measured click. I stared at it stupidly, convinced my uncle would return a second later. The quiet in the room might have been as loud as cannon fire. A minute ticked by.
I splayed my hands, flabbergasted and annoyed. “What just happened?”
But of course, there was no one to answer me.
Capítulo Siete
Dawn came outfitted in rosy streaks of light that penetrated the thick gauze of the mosquito net enshrouding my bed. Dimly, I heard the last sounds of the Fajr prayer drift into my bedroom from the open balcony. I laid buried under a thick coverlet. Escaping the netting proved to be quite an exercise in patience; it took me several tries to wrench myself free. At last, I was able to untangle myself, veering toward my luggage. I rummaged through several walking dresses to find my favorite cotton robe. Slipping into it, I made my way to the balcony.
Stately green palms stretched out before me, their wispy leaves riding the breeze. The garden looked like a fairy tale against the golden morning light, far reaching and filled with amber dates and raven crows fluttering from tree to tree. Beyond, a thousand minarets decorated the old Cairo skyline, beautiful and ornate. And farther still, the great pyramids in the hazy distance. This sight, more than anything else, reminded me I was far from the home I knew. Looking out into the city, I made my plan for the day.
Despite what Tío Ricardo thought or wanted, I would absolutely not be staying inside this room for the whole of the day. I stood in a foreign country, quite alone, and incredibly proud I’d made it this far. If I only had one more day in Egypt, then I was going to make the most of it and find out whatever I could. Thanks to my uncle, I knew where to start. Last night during dinner, he had given me a clue: Khan el-Khalili.
It wasn’t much of one, but it was something. If I could locate the shop, I could perhaps have a conversation with the seller, maybe even the owner, and ask them about Papá. Maybe they had more artifacts that belonged to Cleopatra, or at least objects that might have been touched by the same magic as the golden ring. And thanks to Mamá, I knew about the legendary bazaar. A frequent destination for tourists looking to do a bit of shopping.
My mind settled now that I had something to do.
I only had one problem.
The insufferable Mr. Hayes.
I’d have to figure out how to evade his notice to sneak out of the hotel. To pull off something like that would take planning. Time I didn’t have.
A soft rap disrupted the still quiet of the early morning. I looked over my shoulder, frowning. It had come from the sitting area of the suite. I pulled my robe tight across my long nightgown and opened the door, revealing Mr. Hayes and a young woman. The former leaned against the opposite wall, in a position so like yesterday I had to remind myself not to get my days confused. A newspaper, written in Arabic, was tucked under his arm. Today he wore wool trousers in dark gray, along with a matching waistcoat. His cotton shirt appeared to be light blue in the dim light of the corridor, and the necktie was undone. And like yesterday, his clothing was appallingly wrinkled and faintly smelled of alcohol.
“You’re an early riser,” Mr. Hayes commented. “And looking quite fetching deshabillée.”
A blush warmed my cheeks despite my best effort to appear unaffected by his outrageous compliment. “Gracias,” I said. “And I’m not undressed.”
Mr. Hayes arched a brow. “You know perfectly well what I meant.”
“Have you even gone to bed?”
He grinned. “I got several hours of sleep, I thank you for your concern.”
I looked pointedly to the young woman at his side. “Aren’t you going to introduce me?”
He inclined his head. “This is Colette. She will be your maid for the day.”
She inclined her head and murmured, “Bonjour, mademoiselle.”
My French was atrocious, but I managed to return her greeting.
“Ricardo has booked your train ticket for this afternoon at five,” Whit said. “You’ll spend the night in Alexandria, and the boat leaving for Argentina will depart early the next morning. He’s still trying to secure a chaperone that will accompany you for the whole of the journey.” The corners of his mouth deepened, and an amused glint lurked in his blue gaze. “No more wearing black and pretending to be a widow, I’m afraid.”
“It sounds like it’s all sorted,” I said dryly. “Though you didn’t have to tell me about it this early in the morning.”
“I told you,” he said, looking down at his nails. “Your resourcefulness was duly noted. I’m not taking any chances.”
I gripped the doorknob and set my mouth to a mulish line.
“Colette is going to help you pack and dress, et cetera, et cetera,” Mr. Hayes added around a huge yawn.
I raised a brow. “Long night?”
His smile pulled toward the right of his face, charmingly crooked. Probably like his conscious. “Have you not heard of the bar at Shepheard’s? It’s legendary. The best of humanity gathered round to gossip, deal, manipulate, and inebriate.” Mr. Hayes let out a little cynical chuckle. “My kind of people.”
“What an adventure! Since you’re packing me off like a crate meant for the post, I guess I won’t get to experience it for myself.”
“Young ladies aren’t invited,” he said. “Because of the aforementioned gossiping, dealing, manipulating, and inebriating. Apparently your sensibilities can’t handle that level of debauchery.”
I found the subtle note of sarcasm in his tone intriguing. I opened my mouth to reply but he looked toward my new maid. Colette regarded me curiously when I tried to tell her in French that I didn’t need her services for the day. Mr. Hayes let out a strangled laugh at my probable poor pronunciation.
“I don’t need a maid to dress or help me pack,” I repeated. “Why bother since I’m not leaving this room?”
“Colette stays,” Mr. Hayes said, and then he turned to her and spoke quickly in French. It sounded like he was reciting poetry, and I was ashamed of myself for thinking it.
“You’re fluent in French,” I said in resignation. “Of course you are. What did you say?”
Mr. Hayes smirked. “I warned her of your general sneakiness.”
Colette stepped around me to venture inside. I let her pass because I was uninterested in arguing in busy hallways. Everyone in this hotel rose early, it seemed. Guests walked in between our conversation with a polite excuse me.
“Now stay put, Olivera.”
How were we on such informal terms? My mother would have been appalled. I think I was appalled.
“I dislike your mandates.”
“I know. Why do you think I do it?” He tucked his hands deep into his pockets, no doubt planning something else that would likely annoy me.
“You’re despicable.”