***
Leaving Malta behind them, they set sail with the tide. It was a beautiful morning with a sea like glass, and Elizabeth left the portholes of her cabin wide open to finish drying everything and then went up on deck to give her daughters their daily lessons. Although Darcy had insisted on tutors and governesses for the children, who were all well qualified for their roles, Elizabeth still liked to give the girls some lessons herself. She had scrambled her way into an education as a girl, and she now enjoyed helping her little girls scramble their way into one as well, encouraging them to follow their enthusiasms and learn in a less formal fashion than with their governess.
As she joined them on deck, she saw Margaret carefully laying her doll out on the deck in a bright pool of sunshine. As the sun beat down on it, Elizabeth was surprised to see steam waft gently from the wooden toy.
“Goodness me, Meg,” she said, picking the doll up. “Poor Aahotep is quite damp. Did you drop her in your wash bowl this morning?”
“No, Mama,” said Margaret.
“Well, she has somehow become much the worse for wear,” said Elizabeth. “You will have to play with one of your other toys instead.”
“No!” said Margaret, taking the figurine from her mother in distress and clutching it tightly. The outburst disturbed Elizabeth although she could not quite say why.
“Very well, but you cannot play with Aahotep until she is dry.”
Margaret consulted the doll and then said, “Yes, Aahotep wants to go back in the sun.”
“I am very pleased to hear it,” said Elizabeth, smiling at her daughter’s drollery.
She watched Margaret put the doll back down in its previous sunny spot, viewing it with distaste. It really was an odd thing, and she could not understand why Margaret had such a liking for it. She picked it up. Most of the coloured glass was gone now and it was just a rather dirty wooden figure. But as Elizabeth examined it, she noticed a peculiar odour to it. She put it to her nose and sniffed. It smelled distinctly of seawater. How did the doll smell of seawater?
Uncomfortably, she placed it back down in the sun again. Then she gave her attention to Beth, who was asking her how long it would now take them to reach Egypt, and the queer little doll was forgotten.
Chapter 7
Elizabeth sat up, startled by the eerie wailing which had awakened her. It was a sound she had never heard before. The searing heat was confusing as well, despite the fact that dawn was only just beginning to creep across the horizon. The windows were wide open.
“It’s the muezzin,” came a sleepy voice beside her.
“The what?”
“The muezzin.” Darcy repeated. “Had you forgotten? We arrived in Egypt last night and the wailing is the muezzin calling the faithful to prayer. Potheroe said we would get used to it. He said after a couple of days we wouldn’t even notice it anymore.”
“Ah! I remember,” said Elizabeth.
She lay down in his arms and listened to the muezzin. Now that she was awake, the sound was not so disturbing. In fact there was something quite hypnotic about it.
They had arrived at the port of Alexandria late the night before. Even so late, the harbour had been teeming with people, and as Darcy and Captain Merriweather organised odd carriages called caleches to convey them to their rented house, Elizabeth and Sophie had watched with amazement as copper-skinned people swarmed up to them laden with strange fruits and little cups of tea, chattering in a language none of them could understand. Even Mrs Bennet had been stunned into silence, and Beth, William, and John had stood close to their mother, mouths open in astonishment. The three younger children had slept through it all.
Elizabeth lay quietly for a while, trying to reconcile herself to her exotic surroundings. But to her surprise, she found that now she was wide-awake. Gently she moved away from Darcy and, pulling on a wrapper, she moved across to the window.
The sun was taking more of a hold on the day, and she could see figures move about in the grey light, although they were still dim and shapeless. Up closer to the window, the noises of the day were more apparent. Donkeys began to bray as they were laden down with wares, and from the kitchen below someone laughed.
“You are awake now, my love?”
She turned to see Darcy behind her. He put an arm around her shoulders and they watched Alexandria come to life.
“It seems I am. Is it too early for breakfast?”
“I fear it is. However, since we are both awake…”
“Yes?”
“Perhaps we might use our time in a different way?”
Elizabeth smiled and agreed.
***
All the household rose early; excitement and the heat drove them from their beds, and although Elizabeth and Darcy were the first to arrive downstairs for breakfast, soon all their children appeared with Sophie and Edward.
“Good morning, Mama, good morning, Papa,” Beth greeted them, looking cool and fresh in a white linen gown decorated with damask rose ribbons. She took her place at the table, with William and John following behind her. Laurence and Jane sat together as always, and Margaret slipped into a seat next to Sophie. The look of disappointment on Edward’s face was not lost on either Elizabeth or Darcy, as he had to take a seat farther down the table.
“Where is Grandmama?” Elizabeth asked William, who was examining some round, flat bread rolls with interest.
“She bade us come to breakfast without her, Mama. She said the heat was too ferocious, and she could not leave her bed.”
Sophie looked up in concern. “Should I go to her, Elizabeth?” she enquired, but Elizabeth merely shook her head.
“No, sit down and eat your breakfast. I will go to her presently.”
“Make sure you eat well, children,” Darcy continued, determined that his mother-in-law would not monopolise the proceedings. “We have a busy day ahead of us.”
But he need not have been so concerned. The table, laden with exotic food, was of far greater interest to his children than their grandmother was. Fortunately, the servant who supplied them with great jugs of juice and hot coffee spoke a little English and some French, and he was in great demand explaining the names of the different fruits. Watermelons, figs, pomegranates, and apricots made up the unfamiliar meal, and the children were delighted.
After breakfast the children were dispatched to spend some time with their tutors, and the older members of the group discussed their plans. When organising the trip Darcy had decided that they should relax for a few days in Alexandria before undertaking the next stage of their journey to Cairo. The sea voyage had been exciting but arduous, and the journey to Cairo would take at least five days; it was important for the household to keep a reasonable equilibrium if they were to get the most from their travels.
“What are your plans this morning, Edward?” Darcy asked, finishing the last of the thick black tea they had been served in tiny cups.
“I thought I would visit the site of the ancient lighthouse to begin with…”
“I thought the lighthouse was no longer there?” said Darcy.
“You are right, but I want to imagine it as it was. And then I want to visit the acropolis and see its monument to Diocletian and the Serapeum and the catacombs—” He paused, seeing the look of amusement in Darcy’s eyes. “Forgive me. As you can see I have much to occupy myself with today. I want to see as much as possible before we meet up with Sir Matthew in Cairo. I do not want him to think that I have been wasting my time!”
“Will you postpone at least one of those visits until this afternoon when the children will be with us? You know so much more than the rest of us, and I know they will be delighted.”
“Of course,” said Edward good-naturedly. “In that case I shall make a visit to the bazaar by the port instead this morning. It is renowned for its variety, and pe
rhaps I can pick up some interesting items to show Sir Matthew.”
“I am looking forward to visiting the bazaar myself,” said Elizabeth. “Might we join you?”
“I would be enchanted. And perhaps Miss Lucas could be persuaded to accompany us as well.”
“It sounds very pleasant, but perhaps we should see if Mr Inkworthy would care to join us also…?” said Sophie.
Elizabeth admired Sophie’s efforts to protect her reputation by making it clear that she did not have a favourite, and she was amused by the deflated look in Edward’s eye, which quickly disappeared when Darcy said, “Mr Inkworthy left very early this morning before you arrived to breakfast with us. It seems he needs some new watercolours or pastels, and he could not spare a moment without them.”
“Then let us all meet in half an hour and set out together.”
Once they were alone, Darcy said to Elizabeth, “It seems that Sophie has not made up her mind between the two men. Sometimes I think she favours one, and sometimes another. And sometimes, like today, I think she favours neither.”
“She is certainly anxious to make it seem that way, though more in an effort to protect herself than anything else, I think,” said Elizabeth.
“Do you know if she has any strong feelings for either of them?”
“At the moment, she enjoys their company in different ways. Their attentions have lifted her out of her melancholy and she likes Edward’s enthusiasms and chivalry, while she appreciates Paul’s quieter kindnesses. But as to anything serious, no, I do not think so, at least not yet, although I must confess that I do not fully know her thoughts. She confides in me a little, but of her deepest feelings I know nothing. I suspect she does not understand them herself.”
Darcy nodded thoughtfully.
“It will perhaps be as well if she enjoys an agreeable flirtation with both of them and then forgets them when the trip is over,” Elizabeth continued. “But life is seldom convenient, and I am watching her progress with interest.”
***
By nine o’clock they were all sitting in a caleche and driving slowly through the crowded streets. The white walls of the buildings, designed to keep the heat at bay, were blinding in the sun. Every few minutes they came upon a market square with tiny stalls set up wherever there was a space. People shouted in shrill tones, advertising their wares, and all four travellers were entranced by the flowing white robes and rolled-up headdresses worn by the men. Donkeys brayed on every corner and each time they stopped, small boys appeared as if from nowhere entreating them to buy sticky brown dates and succulent figs.
At last they arrived at the entrance to a bazaar. The circular architecture with its sweeping domes was enough to set Edward off on a lecture about the mingling of French, English, and Arabic cultures. The bazaar was cooler inside thanks to the high ceiling and the thick stone of which it was built. As soon as they alighted from the caleche, Elizabeth and Sophie were drawn to an area given over to jewellery and brightly coloured fabrics.
All four wandered together at first, examining the stalls for their wares, but they separated naturally into two couples and finally they agreed to meet near the entrance in two hours’ time. Since Sophie and Edward were to remain in sight there was no danger of impropriety, and they soon wandered off to follow their own interests.
Elizabeth and Darcy spent a happy morning, trying to compete with the market holders in their game of haggling, until at last, exhausted, they made their way back to the entrance. In one corner they found a coffeehouse with seats that looked out onto the scene. It advertised refreshments in French, English, and German as well as Arabic, and they sank down gratefully onto the beautifully embroidered seats.
“Good day to you, effendi,” said the waiter, immediately spotting them. “How may I serve you? We have tea, coffee, many fruit juices, and many pastries.”
“Coffee, please,” said Darcy, and the young man bowed and slipped away as quickly as he had come.
“Are you satisfied with your purchases, my love?” Darcy asked with amusement. Elizabeth was surrounded by packages containing fabrics, toys and trinkets for the children, as well as gifts for friends and family at home.
“I am. I know Beth will love this cloth,” she said, taking out a length of fabric in purple and red, entranced again by its cool silkiness. “And I have remembered the Egyptian cotton for my sister Jane. As for her namesake, I have bought this. I am sure she will adore it.”
“It is very colourful,” Darcy agreed, laughing as he saw the sequined headdress Elizabeth had bought for their daughter. It was clinked with metals of different shapes and patterns, and he could only too easily imagine how thrilled she would be.
“Do not laugh,” said Elizabeth severely. “She has an eye for the unusual.”
“I bow to your superior wisdom, my dear. But I must confess, I prefer the boys’ presents.”
Elizabeth nodded, equally as pleased with these purchases. She had found a book for William of Arabic myths and legends, which some enterprising writer had decorated with Arabic words and pictures; a set of toy soldiers in Napoleonic uniform, which she knew would soon be seeing battle in John’s ever-increasing toy armies; and a small wooden sword for Laurence. As the waiter returned, she searched for the last present.
“Shukran,” said Darcy, proudly displaying his one word in Arabic and receiving a wide smile from the waiter in return. He placed a glass jug on their table, intricately painted in blue and green and red, and beside it set down two tiny cups of the same design. A bowl of sugar completed the set. Elizabeth lifted the lid of the jug and the rich aroma of coffee revived her almost immediately.
“And I think Margaret will love this,” she said, pointing to a soft felt doll in full Arab dress.
“Ah, you found one,” said Darcy, turning it over and examining the different textures on the dress and turban. “Let us hope it diverts some of her attention from her other, unpleasant doll. I must say…”
“Yes.”
He smiled a little shamefacedly. “I was going to say that there is something disturbing about Aahotep’s features. In a dim light I could almost think she were alive and plotting some new atrocities. I am surprised that Meg is so devoted to her—it,” he corrected himself.
Elizabeth poured out the steaming brew into the miniature cups and added sugar.
“It is strange you should say that. On board the ship, Sophie was telling me much the same thing. She said she fancied the doll actually turned its head of its own accord… though she was forced to admit that she had been sitting in the sun without a hat or a parasol at the time! But she says she keeps taking it away from Margaret when she is asleep, yet somehow it always seems to end up in her bed again.”
“I think that is more likely to be Meg’s determination not to be parted from it, rather than supernatural powers on the part of the doll!” said Darcy. “Even so, I am glad you have bought her a new one. I am sure that Meg will abandon the old one, as you predicted, when she sees how much better this one is. Are you hungry? I see the waiter is serving some pastries to that couple over there. Perhaps we should try some.”
He signalled to the waiter to return and in no time at all, they had a plate piled high with cakes that were a mixture of European and Arabic cuisines. Neither spoke again about Margaret’s odd doll. Instead, while waiting for Sophie and Edward to return they diverted themselves discussing the exotic habits of the Egyptians. Elizabeth was intrigued by the long water pipes prevalent in the cafés around the bazaar. Wherever one looked, one could see old men sucking contentedly as they played against each other at chess. The waiter told them these pipes were known as sheeshas and offered Darcy a chance to try it, but he declined, although it occurred to him that when Elizabeth and Sophie were engaged with Mrs Bennet in finding new clothes later on, he and Edward might test the experience.
After eating a d
elicious honey cake covered in sticky nuts Elizabeth declared her spirits restored. She looked about her, taking an interest in their fellows.
“Do you know, Darcy, it occurs to me that we are not the only English people here, and there are many French and German travellers here, too.”
“It is true,” said Darcy, looking round the bazaar. Now that they had become more accustomed to the scene, he found he too could pick out European fashions as well as Arabic robes. “Napoleon could not have guessed, when he forced his way here years ago, that he would make this place such a fashionable spot. The people over there, I would say, are French,” he added, pointing to a young couple admiring the rugs on a stall.
“And those over there, German,” said Elizabeth, joining in the game. “And perhaps those people by the jewellery stand are Italian.”
“No, I would say Spanish. What do you think of that group?”
“Most definitely English, my dear.”
“Agreed. And over there—oh!”
Darcy stopped and stared at a stall in the distance where two Alexandrians in full white robes were arguing ferociously. Seeing his face, Elizabeth leaned forward.
“What is it, Darcy?”
“The most extraordinary thing,” he replied, still searching the bazaar with his eyes. “Just for a moment I could have sworn I saw George Wickham.”
***
Sophie and Edward had stopped at every stall in the huge bazaar, and still it seemed Edward had not yet had his fill of the place. At last Sophie halted by a coffeehouse tucked in the corner of the market. The smell of coffee and sweet, sticky cakes made her almost faint with hunger. It seemed to have been a long time since breakfast.
“Forgive me,” said Edward apologetically, noticing her glance at the café. “I have indulged myself too much at your expense. Come, let us sit down and rest for a while.”
Gratefully, Sophie nodded and they sat down by a rather rickety table. The waiter who served them spoke no other language than Arabic, and so Edward found himself forced to try his hand at the few words he knew and a great deal of sign language. Eventually two cups of coffee appeared, along with two glasses of what looked like milk.