Read Online Lord of the Silent: A Novel of Suspense by Elizabeth Peters - Free Book Online

hadn't been for her folly and pride, they would have the child they both wanted so much. She had promised she would never talk about it again, but she didn't have to. He knew. "How often do I have to say it?" he demanded, his voice rough with anger-not at her, but for her. "It wasn't your fault. For the love of God, Nefret, you're a doctor; you know things can go wrong for no apparent reason. There's no hurry, sweetheart. I'm too selfish to share you with anyone else just yet." She clung to him, too moved to respond, and he added, "Including Mother. Or Father. Or Sennia. Or Fatima and Kadija and Daoud and Selim and the rest. They do hover, don't they? Damn it, you're right. I can't give you my full attention when they're around." Not since their first night together had they made love with such urgency and tenderness. Nefret went over it in her mind, every word, every gesture. He found her there when he came in, her hands resting lightly on her waist. Later, while they were having tea on the upper deck, he said, "I assume we aren't dining with the family tonight." "You assume correctly. Mother and Father are dining at Shepheard's." "With whom?" "I don't believe they have an engagement with anyone in particular. It's Mother's annual reconnaissance, to catch up on the gossip and see who's in town. I declined their kind invitation to join them, but I thought we might go out-someplace where we needn't dress and where we're not likely to meet anyone we know. Bassam's, perhaps." It would have been impossible to find a place in Cairo where the Emerson family was not known, but he understood what she meant. Their Egyptian acquaintances were more courteous-or possibly more intimidated-than the gregarious, gossip-minded members of the Anglo-Egyptian community. The previous year he had been persona non grata with that community because of his outspoken pacifist sentiments. He kept telling himself he didn't care what they thought of him, but it had hurt a little to be cut dead and snubbed and insulted wherever he went. He shook off the ugly memories and smiled at his wife. "Bassam's it is." Bassam's was not mentioned in Baedeker. It didn't meet English standards of cleanliness, but then Ramses had always suspected the kitchens of the European-style restaurants wouldn't have passed a close inspection either. The menu, which existed only in Bassam's head and varied according to his whims, was primarily Egyptian. He was chef, headwaiter, proprietor, and, if necessary, bouncer. This situation seldom occurred, since no alcoholic beverages were served and drugs were not allowed, but now and then a drunken Tommy or hashish smoker wandered in by mistake. He spotted them instantly and came rushing to greet them, the sleeves of his robe tucked up to bare brawny arms, his apron a rainbow medley of spattered food. One could almost guess at the menu by studying Bassam's apron. Obviously that evening's dishes made copious use of tomatoes. After reproaching them for not having notified him in advance of their coming and asking why the elder Emersons were not with them, he showed them to a table in a prominent position, where they could be seen not only by the other patrons but by passersby. "The lady cat, she is not with you?" he asked, dusting off a chair with his apron. "She had another engagement," Nefret said. Bassam nodded. The honorific had been his way of propitiating Seshat, who had sometimes dined with her owners. The Emersons' cats had acquired a certain reputation among Cairenes. Large and well-muscled and strikingly similar in appearance, they did not resemble the spoiled pets of the harems nor the lean, feral scavengers of the streets. Ramses found them somewhat uncanny himself. They had an excellent meal-with a lot of tomatoes-and relaxed over cups of Turkish coffee and a narghileh. The other patrons pretended not to notice Nefret's enjoyment of the water pipe, just as they had pretended not to notice her, the only woman present. Egyptians