“Ah,” I said. “Well, I’m afraid this organization is real, and they steal priceless artifacts and fence them to buyers across several markets, predominately in Europe. Museums, private collectors, and the like. Our mother is just such a thief, and she’s used the market to make a fortune. It seems like Mr. Fincastle is not only involved, but they are partners as well. They clearly planned what happened on Philae together.”
Isadora made an unladylike groan, sounding so much like me it made the hair on my arms stand on end. Now that I was paying attention, her mannerisms continued to remind me of my mother. The way she tucked her hair behind her ear, how she fiddled with the collar of her dress, making sure it was perfectly flat. The straight line of her shoulders, her perfect posture. Isadora really was the young lady my mother always hoped to raise.
But then I remembered how Isadora had pulled out her sleek handgun, firing at the crocodile. It had been a bold and confident move. She knew how to behave, but that didn’t mean she was stuffy and prim.
It meant she knew how to play the game to her advantage.
“That makes sense,” Isadora said. “I’m only sorry I was a part of it, even peripherally. I don’t know what to do now. How to move forward from all this.”
“There are many particulars we need to discuss,” I acknowledged. “But for now, please know that you will always have a place with Whit and me. It’s perfectly acceptable for you to live with us, and I have the means to care for you.”
“Speaking of, where is your husband this morning?”
“I don’t know,” I said, the corners of my mouth turning downward. “Running an errand most likely.”
It annoyed me that he had taken off without so much as a goodbye. If I had done such a thing, he wouldn’t have appreciated it. In fact, that wasexactly what I was going to do. I knew that I would most likely need Whit at my side for what I wanted to accomplish, but I needed to do something, and perhaps I’d learn exactly what I would need to do in order to have access to my fortune. Perhaps I only needed a note from Whit or my uncle, or to show proof of our marriage in the form of a license. Regardless, I could go and ask my questions in person.
I was so sick of doing nothing.
Isadora eyed me shrewdly. “What were you thinking just now?”
“How would you like to accompany me to the bank?”
“I’m not sure,” she said dryly. “I’m quite busy these days.”
I laughed and polished off my coffee.
I left Isadora waiting in the lobby of the Anglo-Egyptian Bank, settled comfortably on a wooden bench laden with brightly woven pillows. The building had a blend of European and Arabic decor, and while it was designed to look like something from a Parisian street, the windows had the gorgeous latticework popular in Egypt. Outside, the Ezbekieh Gardens could be seen in all of their lush greenery, and beyond the tall palm trees, the stately Khedivial Opera House stood, flanked by two reservation kiosks.
Perhaps I’d walk there afterward and buy tickets to whatever musical was in season. Maybe a night out was what the three of us needed. Isadora and Whit needed time together to become better acquainted. I wasn’t lying when I told Isadora that she had a place with us if she wanted.
“Right this way, Mrs. Hayes,” a bank teller named Ahmed said, motioning for me to step into his office.
I blinked in surprise—I still wasn’t used to my new name, and a pleasant thrill skipped down my spine. For the rest of my life, I would be Inez Emilia Hayes. We could be a real family. Legally, I supposed we were one. It was a fresh start, a chance to do things our own way. Warmth pooled in my belly, and I beamed at the bank attendant. He seemed surprised by my expression, but I couldn’t very well tell him that he was the first person to address me asMrs. Hayes.
I took the seat Ahmed offered, and settled across from him as he made himself comfortable in a high-backed chair. He wore a dark business suit, all clean lines and precise hems.
“I’m sure it’s highly unusual for you to host a woman,” I began. “But I’ve recently married, and I would like to begin the process of transferring ownership of my funds from my guardian over to my husband.”
Ahmed opened his mouth, but I pressed on before he could tell me no.
“I can assure you that my husband would approve,” I said. “In fact, will you tell me what I would need in order to set him up as the—”
“But he’s already been here,” Ahmed cut in. “He showed proper documentation, and your uncle is no longer the name on the account. The honor belongs to your husband.”
My mouth dropped. So that was Whit’s errand. He must have been wanting to surprise me. Well, that made things quite easy. “Excellent,” I said, grinning. “I’d like to withdraw funds—”
Ahmed frowned. “Withdraw?”
“Yes. Please.”
“But you cannot.”
A flare of annoyance rose to the surface, and I squashed it with a determined smile. “My husband wouldn’t object. In fact, I’m sure he gave you permission to allow me access to the money?”
Ahmed shifted in his seat and steepled his fingers. He seemed uneasy, and my annoyance turned into impatience.
“I’m sure that he would have,” Ahmed said slowly, “if he hadn’t withdrawn every last shilling in your account.”
