Together, they examined the Egyptian hieroglyphs going up the sides. “The deeds of Thutmose III and Ramses II,” she remarked, having read about them, including the translations.
He nodded, and they walked to the other side of it, looking back toward the Houses of Parliament and Big Ben in the distance.
“It is the first time I’ve seen it close up. I like it, to tell you the truth. It’s a little odd, but also awe-inspiring,” she said. “Even the winches they used last month to set it in place were beyond impressive.”
“I must say,” Greer mused, “I think it looks completely out of place. The way I felt when I first got to your shores.”
“You had a far easier time getting here than this monster. The obelisk and the ship it came over on nearly ended up at the bottom of the Bay of Biscay.”
“Let’s take a seat, shall we?” he asked. Taking her by the waist, he hoisted her onto the thick wall next to the obelisk. Behind her was the Thames, sparkling on the sunny late-September day.
“Did you read what they buried at its base?” he asked, sitting beside her.
“A time capsule, they called it,” she said, still arranging her skirts, happily still feeling the warmth where his hands had touched her and certain she was the luckiest woman alive, to be sitting there with Greer Carson.
“They made a terrible mistake,” he said, sounding serious.
She stopped fidgeting and looked at him. “What do you mean?
“Purportedly, they put in photographic images of twelve of the prettiest English women. But from where I’m sitting, they missed by far and away the best of the lot.”
Beatrice felt her cheeks heat up. He stroked a finger across one of them, and she smiled.
“You are the only English beauty I care about, and your photograph ought to be in there,” he added, then ruined the romantic nature of his comment by adding, “along with the box of cigars, the shilling razor, the baby’s bottle, and the copy of Whitaker’sAlmanack.”
She laughed. “Don’t forget they included hairpins, a portrait of the queen, and the rupee.”
“Yours should definitely be alongside Queen Victoria’s.” He took her hand in his, and she looked around to see if anyone was watching, but pedestrians who noticed didn’t seem to think anything of a couple holding hands and enjoying the exotic, new monument.
“I have something for you,” Greer said, “to commemorate this day.”
“Really?” She’d never told anyone before that she quite enjoyed being surprised, as long as it was a nice surprise. And little gifts were the best type of surprise. “What is it?” She nearly clapped her hands like a child.
From his pocket he pulled out a miniature bronze model of the obelisk and placed it on her palm. For some reason, the sight of it, a three-inch representation of something that weighed two-hundred tons tickled her. She laughed again.
“Thank you.” She stared at the craftsmanship and minute detail of the small obelisk.
“Two shillings, six pence,” he told her.
Beatrice shook her head. “Such an American! You’re not supposed to tell me the cost of a gift, but I shall take very good care of it.”
“The same price as lunch off the joint at The Grosvenor Gallery Restaurant, or a good joint dinner at the Criterion, a six o’clock meal at the Caledonian, or a half-past seven one at Provitali’s.”
She opened her mouth and blinked. “Oh my, you have learned a lot since the day you had no notion of what to pay for a small bag of toffee and even tried to give me a half-sovereign as a tip.”
“I’ve been living in a hotel for so long without my own kitchen, I think I know every restaurant in London and what each meal costs.”
“In any case, costly or not, I thank you for my miniature Cleopatra’s Needle. I shall never forget this day.”
Unexpectedly, he placed something else on her palm. “I also picked out this for you, my beautiful bride.”
She looked down at an Asprey’s ring box, and her heart skipped a beat.
Without opening it, she dropped it along with the bronze monument onto her lap, threaded her arms around Greer’s neck, and kissed him.
Somewhere nearby, she heard a woman gasp, but Beatrice didn’t give a fig for polite society.
