How did it come to this? Didn’t Papa marry a fortune? Porchey told me Godfather paid off all of Papa’s substantial debts when he and Mama married, and settled five hundred thousand pounds upon him. Not to mention Mama has her own fortune from Godfather which, I understand, pays for the excavations. How much longer will she be willing to subsidize these adventures? How much longer can she afford to do so if we don’t turn up some treasures? After all, according to Porchey, Papa is hemorrhaging money. Not that my brother will change his mind and marry an heiress instead of a penniless American.
Even though no one has spoken the words aloud, I can see that the clock is ticking. On these digs. For Howard. And for me.
Even if my parents could fund them indefinitely, is there room in the field for aristocratic archaeologists anymore? And teams like those of the academics have gobbled up most of the Egyptian concessions. And what place could there possibly be for an untrained, aristocraticwomanarchaeologist?
“I have some, some”—Howard hesitates, searching for a word—“valuable items I could sell. It would help, until we unearth something worthwhile in the dig.”
Howard and I haven’t talked about the family financial straits directly, but I’m fairly certain he knows. And now, he seems to be offering to help Papa pay for the dig. It is a very generous gesture, but his means of doing so is strange—by finding buyers for the antiquities he’s procured from locals, possibly through objectionable means. This oblique admission that he’s been acquiring these tainted artifacts doesn’t astonish me—not after the comments by the Metropolitan Museum of Art archaeologists—but I am surprised that he’s mentioning it to Papa. Does Papa know about Howard’s side business? I’ve speculated about this from time to time, and now his reply will help answer that nagging question.
“I don’t think it’s come to that.” Papa bristles, not at Howardintimating that he’s been brokering artifacts but at the suggestion that he needs Howard’s money.
In this, I have my answer. He knows, to some extent anyway. I am not certain whether that makes Papa complicit in a practice that was considered acceptable if not fully legal until recently, though. Anyway, perhaps we are only talking about Howard selling a few items.
Howard stiffens at Papa’s brusque words, and my father realizes his misstep. In lieu of an apology, he says, “Very kind of you to offer, though, old chap.”
Even though my thoughts are awhirl with questions about the antiquities trade, an idea strikes me. But I’ve got to go after it carefully, to preserve Papa’s dignity and his mood, both of which are fragile at the moment. He could pull up shop at any minute.
“Perhaps a break from Luxor is what’s needed,” I venture. “A long weekend in Cairo? I hear that celebrations are forthcoming—even in English circles—because the protectorate was abolished yesterday and an independent Egypt established. English and Egyptians alike seem to be relieved that an agreement has been reached, and that peace might be restored.”
“I don’t know that Zaghloul’s Wafd Party is well-pleased with the announcement, since Britain plans on keeping control of Egypt’s military, foreign relations, and communications, not to mention the Sudan,” Papa mutters. “Anyway, I thought you had an aversion to Cairo society, Eve. The only company you like to keep outside an excavation seems to be that of Brograve Beauchamp.”
My cheeks grow warm at Papa’s reference to Brograve, but he’s right. I do have an antipathy for the exclusionary nature of the Cairo social circuit. It borders on loathing. But my idea requires that we decamp to Cairo for a few days.
“It might be good to clear our minds with a change of scenery, Papa, even if we don’t exactly celebrate. Don’t you think?” I say, with a small, hopeful smile. “And anyway, the Allenbys have sent an invitation for dinner later this week. With all the changes, who knows if the High Commission Residency will continue with its usual round of events?”
Papa sips his Tom Collins, a favorite. Cocktails are the one Americandevelopment of which he’s fond. “True. Iwouldlike to get Allenby’s take on the news. I know he pled the case for the Egyptian people—to create an Egyptian constitution, and make Egypt into an independent state, for real this time.”
“I’m glad to hear it. As anyone who’s visited Egypt can see, the status quo wasn’t tenable.” I speak aloud the opinion I’ve largely kept quiet. The Highclere Castle visit from Mr. Zaghloul and the impact on archaeology notwithstanding, Papa has been riding the fence on his beliefs about Egypt’s political future. But if Allenby adopted this position, I know it’s safe to echo it. Papa highly respects him.
“Might be nice to catch up with Allenby,” Papa admits. “Take a peek into his crystal ball.”
I give Papa a full grin. “You know, if we hurry, we might even be able to catch the overnight train.”
Papa consults his pocket watch, and nods. “I’ll let the hotel manager know to hold our rooms, and instruct the staff to start packing a trunk for us. I assume you’ll come along, Howard?”
Howard has been silent during this exchange. But he cannot hold on to that quietude in the face of a direct question from his patron. “No, I think I’ll stay back. Work on the site. Consult with Ahmed about our plans for next week. See if I can’t get it to yield some artifacts.”
Bollocks. I need Howard in Cairo as well. He dislikes the society set even more than I do, but he doesn’t yet know my plan.
“Nonsense,” I say. “You must come. We all need a break from that endless expanse of sand and the Winter Palace menu.”
Howard’s mouth opens in protest, but Papa interjects. “I’ll organize a bag for you as well, since there isn’t time for you to return to Castle Carter for your own belongings.”
Papa anchors his cane on the marble tile—a technique he’s been needing more and more lately—and pushes himself to standing. As he limps across the lobby toward the ornate staircase, I whisper to Howard, “Have you had any contact with the antiquities middlemen lately?”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not a child, Howard. I’m talking about the men who sell theless up-and-up artifacts. Have you had any contact with them lately? Or the Cairo antiquities dealers, especially those operating on the margins? Asked them about any artifacts that have passed through their hands displayinganyreference to Hatshepsut?”
“No. Not recently.”
“Then you and I have work to do in Cairo.”
Chapter Forty-Five
MARCH 2, 1922
CAIRO, EGYPT
