Egyptian Honeymoon (6 page)

'They may be the ship of the desert, but they wouldn't be my favourite form of transport,' he said to her.

'Oh, but it was fun,' Noelle declared, her eyes shining. They turned to look at the great edifices on either side of them, but their majesty was impaired by the invasion of tourists, coaches, shanty shacks and the horde of Arab salesmen peddling souvenirs. Their taxi had followed them, and they drove the short distance down to the Sphinx. Noelle had imagined this great monument would rise in solitary splendour from the desert sand, but it was surrounded by ruined mastabas, the tombs of members of the king's court, some of which were still being excavated. The Pyramids behind it seemed to shut it in and over to the east Cairo was throwing out tentacles which soon would reach to Giza. Added to which, the Sphinx has been badly battered by the passing of the centuries. Steve told her Giza must have been a necropolis and the Sphinx was probably erected as a sort of guardian to protect the spirits of the dead. Sensitive to atmosphere, Noelle drew nearer to Steve, slipping her hand on to his arm, desiring the reassurance of his vitality. He was so splendidly alive in this mausoleum. He looked down at her in surprise; it was the first time she had ever deliberately sought contact with him.

'Something scared you?'

'It's a little creepy, talking about the dead. But I'm very glad to have seen the Pyramids.' She looked up at the great cones piercing the blue sky, and her eyes filled with tears. She had so wanted to see them with Hugh, and he was gone.

Steve with his uncanny perception guessed her thought, and said curtly:

'You would have preferred more congenial company.'

'Oh no, you mustn't say that,' she protested quickly. 'I'm very grateful…'

'I don't want gratitude,' he cut in harshly, pressing her arm against his side, as if to assert his possession of her. 'We'll see if we can get some lunch at Mena House.' He piloted her back towards the waiting taxi, remarking: 'Weird idea to spend so much of one's lifetime preparing one's tomb—rather macabre.'

'They were built by the earlier kings, weren't they?'

'Yes. Chephren or Khufu built the great one, in the fourth dynasty, over two thousand years before Christ. Later on it was realised such tombs were too conspicuous, and they gave them up in favour of rock tombs, which they tried quite unsuccessfully to conceal in the hope of foiling grave robbers. You'll see them in the Valley of the Kings.'

She was surprised at his knowledge. Egyptology was a far cry from his business enterprises, and again guessing her thought, he told her:

'Though I came up the hard way, I found time to acquire some culture.'

'I think you're marvellous,' she said sincerely.

Steve gave her a veiled look. 'So long as I keep my distance, eh?'

'You're not distant now.' She liked the feel of his hard muscles beneath her hand, and she was feeling more in accord with him that at any time during their association. The Arab headdress became him, and he would not make a bad model for a Pharaoh, she thought, with his straight nose and imperious air, though his mouth was too thin-lipped for an Egyptian.

But if I advance too far you'd be off like a scalded cat.'

She hung her head. 'I'm your wife.'

'I won't let you forget it.'

Was that a threat, an invitation, or what? They had reached the taxi and he handed her in without further comment.

As they drove away she remarked, reverting to the former subject:

'After all, all that buried treasure didn't do anyone any good.'

'That's one way of looking at it, and some people must have made a fortune out of their ill-gotten gains, to say nothing of the free meals to rats and mice provided by the offerings of food and drink.'

'Ugh!' She shivered at the picture his words evoked. 'Let's talk of something else.'

'You're too sensitive, my love,' Steve remarked drily. They were sitting side by side, but he did not touch her. Noelle's earlier lightheartedness had evaporated. These monuments were tombs, and her thoughts had winged to Hugh. He had no great pyramid erected to his memory, only a simple slab in a country churchyard. According to the creed of the men who had built the Pyramids he was a lonely shade wandering in Amenti. Had she betrayed him by marrying Steve? Steve glanced at her still, remote face, and observed:

'You're being morbid. The dead have no claims on the living.'

She did not like the way he seemed able to read her thoughts; his were a complete enigma to her. She turned towards him with an apologetic smile.

'I'm sorry to be such a wet, but I'm rather tired. It was lovely seeing all this, but a bit exhausting.'

'Sightseeing always is,' he said prosaically. 'Especially in this heat. This afternoon you must lie down and rest.'

She revived over lunch, and the Mena House Hotel was quite something with its Moorish arches and well tended gardens. Steve talked about the places they would be visiting and the great temples at what had been the capital of the Middle Kingdom, Thebes, that was now called Luxor. He seemed to be deliberately trying to be impersonal. Finally he told her:

'Antiquity has always interested me, and I collect objets d'art. You've seen some of my collections at Cliveden?'

She remembered the bronze monkey.

'Yes. You're very patient when you're set upon acquiring something.'

He shot her a meaning glance. 'I am. A valuable object is worth waiting for.'

'Do you include me in that category?' she asked provocatively.

He laughed genially. 'That's fishing. People aren't things.'

Noelle obediently tried to rest during the afternoon. Steve conducted her to the bedroom and said he would call her when it was time to go to the boat. He would ask the chambermaid to pack for them. Then he left her, and she wondered where he was going. She felt restless and over-stimulated, but finally she dozed and dreamed. She was in a tunnel leading into the interior of a tomb and Steve was beside her. It was dark and cold and she was scared. 'Please,' she besought him, 'let's go back into the sunshine.'

He laughed low and mockingly as he replied:

'There's no going back, my love.'

She awoke to find the chambermaid packing her cases as requested, and changed into a white dress with a white woollen wrap, since it might be cool on the water. The maid was a plump dark woman, not at all young, and was deft and efficient. She insisted upon running a bath for Noelle. Unused to being maided, Noelle was a little embarrassed, especially when the woman—she said her name was Miriam— exclaimed over her white skin and pale gold hair. She was packing Steve's suits, far more expertly than Noelle could have done, when Steve came in. He had discarded his shorts and headdress and was wearing white trousers and a blazer. It seemed he and Miriam were old acquaintances, and she looked at him with dark melting eyes, thinking of the large tip he would give her.

He regarded Noelle's ensemble with approval, obviously preferring it to what she had worn on the previous evening. He looked so handsome and distinguished that Noelle felt her pulses stir. If he came to her tonight she would try to give him a warmer reception. Then she remembered the separate cabins, and felt quite inexplicably dashed. She ought to be thankful for his forbearance, but contrarily she began to wonder if she had alienated him to the extent that he no longer desired her. She searched his unrevealing face for some clue to his feelings, but his grey eyes were as clear as glass and as expressionless.

If they had been alone, she might have made an advance, but Miriam's presence prohibited any intimacy. He chatted with the Arab woman in a friendly manner, asking about her husband and children, for Miriam was a married woman. Noelle was pleased to learn that Steve had no side where dependents were concerned, though she had heard he could be a terror in his office. But that was different, she supposed, in business he had to impose his authority.

The sun had sunk when they reached the quay where the Nile steamer,
Serapis
, was berthed. She was an odd-looking craft, more like a floating hotel, with three decks connected by outside staircases, and a promenade around each of the three tiers of cabins and saloons. Behind them the sky flamed over the Western Desert and was reflected in the water so that the boat seemed to be floating on a sea of fire.

Steve and Noelle descended from their taxi, while a horde of porters seized their luggage to carry it to their cabins. Other passengers were arriving, being decanted from their cars, and followed them to the ship. As she went up the gangway, Noelle looked back and encountered a pair of malicious green eyes under curled red hair.

'Hi, Steve!' the woman called in a throaty sexy voice. 'Are you going on this trip? What a bit of luck!'

'Marcia!' Steve's surprise was well acted, but with a stab, Noelle didn't believe it was genuine. 'We can't talk here. See you later.'

He piloted Noelle on to the deck, where a steward was waiting to conduct them to their cabins.

Noelle's mind was seething with questions. So Marcia Manning was also in Egypt. Had she followed them, knowing their destination? There had been a false note about their greeting, and Noelle was convinced her husband had expected her. She glanced at his face, which was a little grim, and the awful certainty gripped her that it was to Marcia he had gone last night when he had left her. He knew she would be in Cairo. No wonder he had looked so sleek and contented when she met him at breakfast!

They had adjoining cabins in the stern of the top deck, opening on to a small promenade deck furnished with deck chairs. The accommodation was comfortable, though small, with their own tiny bathroom containing a shower. There was a connecting door between their cabins, and it was open as she was ushered in and Steve came through it, as she stood by the window trying to collect her thoughts.

'This seems all right,' he said, looking round critically. 'There's a bar further aft. I'll meet you there, when you've unpacked what you'll need tonight. There's not a lot of cupboard space.'

Spoken oh, so casually, as if no red-haired siren had come aboard at his invitation. Noelle swung round to face him, her eyes blazing sapphires in her pale face. Marcia's presence was an insult she could not forgive.

'You knew she was coming, didn't you?' she accused him. 'Perhaps you booked her ticket when you booked ours. Do you usually travel with a harem so that if one houri disappoints you you've a replacement to fall back upon?'

Steve took a stride towards her and gripped her shoulders with fingers of steel.

'What the hell are you talking about?'

'Marcia Manning, of course.'

'Oh, her!' Was it her fancy or had a wary look come into his eyes?

'Yes, her!' Anger and humiliation made Noelle reckless. 'Do you think I don't know she's your ex-mistress, only I doubt the ex. Was it her bed that welcomed you last night?'

A flash of anger crossed his face, and he shook her violently.

'What a thing to say to your husband!' .

'Who isn't a real husband; I wouldn't mind so much if it were anyone but her.'

'You wouldn't?' He dropped his hands and his face became like the carved stone of an Egyptian statue. 'So you've some passion in you, but I hardly think you're in a position to criticise my actions.'

Noelle flushed and hung her head; she had antagonised him with her mention of Hugh, and she did not really blame him for seeking satisfaction elsewhere, but not with Marcia Manning who, she knew, despised her, the girl who had modelled for her when she came to buy clothes at Forbes Fashions, clothes which she was fairly certain Steve had paid for. Marcia who had acted as hostess at his party. She could not bear to think that Steve might confide her inadequacies to his former mistress—or was she still his present one?

Steve went on quietly:

'I've no control over Marcia's comings and goings, and it's bad luck she should turn up here. I'm afraid you'll have to put up with her presence, which is none of my contriving, I assure you.'

Noelle lifted her head defiantly. 'I don't believe you.'

'You don't?' He made a movement towards her, and she stiffened, expecting some violence, but he controlled himself. He shrugged his shoulders and told her: 'Believe what you please, it won't alter facts.'

'No, neither will you pull wool over my eyes. I learned the facts of life in the modelling world. I had a good education in the habits of wolves, and you were a prime one before you decided to get married. You can't deny it.'

He thrust his hands into his trouser pockets and eyed her coldly.

'I deny nothing, but don't dare to blackguard me. I won't stand for it.'

'Why, what would you do?'

'Do you want to challenge me?' He caught her roughly in his arms, staring down into her face while he deliberately crushed her against him. Noelle felt a trembling in her limbs, her body going limp, and then she recalled that those same arms had held Marcia last night. She became stiff as a ramrod.

'Force will get you nowhere,' she whispered. 'Do you want to make me hate you?'

He pushed her away from him with a muttered oath.

'I might say the same to you.'

The decks shuddered under their feet as the ship began to move away from the quay and Noelle realised her retreat had been cut off. She had been about to declare that she would not stay aboard with Marcia Manning, but now it was too late. Her pulses still throbbed from Steve's fierce embrace, and she pushed the heavy hair off her forehead with a weary gesture. After all, what did it matter? Steve was bound to take up with some female since she had failed him, but she had begun to hope that she might be able to respond to him if he approached her again. Now they were quarrelling, saying things neither would forgive.

'I'm sorry I lost my temper,' she said quietly. 'But I had provocation.'

'So you've made yourself believe.' Steve had become cool and suave, entirely unrepentant… Noelle had a wild impulse to hit him with her hairbrush or scratch his smooth, mocking face—anything to break that imperturbable calm. But her hairbrush was still unpacked and she had never scratched anyone in her life. 'You'll feel better when you've had some dinner,' he went on. 'When you've tidied yourself, we'll go and sample the restaurant.'