Splendid, More or Less Part 3/?
Author: Nefret24
Disclaimer and notes see part 1.
Author's Apology: Heartily abject for the long wait between installments. Between classes and my poor little IMAC dying, it's been a rough couple weeks. Excuses, excuses…. Mea culpa.
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I was really beginning to wonder about myself.
I came to Egypt as a fully rational, coherent individual with all five faculties in perfect working order, enhanced even, by an intuition that all sensible females possess.
Now apparently, in the eyes of others, I had lost my wits (a circumstance to them which appears relatively normal considering I have gained a male person to think for me, i.e. Emerson The Fiance, and thus can and, presumably, will act like a vapid cow.)
All I could say was this was all Emerson's fault. If he had condescended to accompany me to Sir Evelyn Baring's offices, I am quite sure that the inferior individual with whom I conferred would not have guffawed quite so loud when presented with the account of what had occurred in the previous weeks. I was almost tempted to give him a good whack with what I had come to consider as the business end of my parasol, but ladylike restraint forbade it.
I let him have his laugh, not so subtly showing my disapproval with a leveled glare and simply waited him out. Clearing my throat loudly, I spoke with rather loud overtones," Mr. Albers," for such was this insufferable character's name, "I really must protest against this unprofessional behavior."
"Oh Miss Peabody, do pardon me," he said, wiping his eyes. "But your narrative style…"
"The question remains, sir, what to do with these brazen criminals?" I interrupted boldly.
"Well, erm. Ahem," he said, regaining his composure and stroking his mustache idly. "I apologize. Now Miss Amelia, I know by your reputation that you are an honest and forthright… yo- … lady but- you must know- it is every Englishman's right to a proper trial," he said condescendingly, wagging his finger at me.
"One of them is Italian," I retorted coldly and then continued in a more polite fashion, "May I not speak with Sir Evelyn?" Upon seeing his blank stare I felt compelled to add, "He was a dear old friend of my father's." Far be it from me to condone deception, but sometimes a small exaggerated statement can go a long way- or so I devoutly wished.
I was not mistaken, as Mr. Albers seemed to jump in his chair as if he had sat on a rather sharp tack. "I'm sorry- he's gone home for the day already," Mr. Albers said after taking a cursory glance at his watch.
I cursed underneath my breath. I had not realized that the hour had grown so late in my fervor in pestering underlings at the Consulate.
"But, I'm sure he could meet with you tomorrow?" he stammered, now full of exquisite feigned politeness.
"I'm sure he could," I replied in kind. "But what am I supposed to do with them tonight? I don't suppose the Cairene police would be of any assistance…?"
The look on Mr. Albers' face coupled with my remembrance of Emerson's numerous scathing comments against the local authorities was enough to confirm the inadequacy of that particular plan.
"Maybe you should just wait until you speak with Sir Evelyn? Tomorrow is another day, what?"
Rendered speechless by an unholy combination of sheer rage and overwhelming mirth at the man's stupidity, I simply nodded dumbly and stood, indicating my wish to leave.
He rose to lead me to the outer office. "Let's see if we can find anyone about to escort you home. I shall inform Sir Evelyn tomorrow of your situation and then you may be free to enjoy your holiday, eh?" he said, with a wink.
I made no reply but groaned inwardly as I saw Dudley Gilbertson enter the room. He was the old acquaintance of my father's that I had consulted to inquire after Evelyn's boxes before my voyage up the Nile. If my previous description of my encounter with him was rather short, I can only say, dear Reader, that I had hoped to spare you from his disagreeableness. (Herr Brugsch, though equally as vexing and arrogant, at least has the benefit of being somewhat famous and interesting.)
And of course, it was he, who with a little bow, volunteered to escort me back to the Philae.
"I really am in no need of an escort- a cab would suit me just fine," I reiterated as we walked down the consulate steps.
"No, no, Miss Amelia, I must insist. A lady such as yourself shouldn't be wandering about these streets after dark," he said with a wave of his hand, indicating said unsavory streets. I, for one, was not intimated in the slightest and seemed to know my way much better than he, for at one point I was forced to tell him to turn down the correct road.
"Shepheards' is this way, Mr. Gilbertson," I said, pointing with my parasol and exhibiting remarkable control, I did not jab him with it. He followed shrugging off his misstep and continued to try and match my brisk walking pace.
"Dear me… I say… Miss Amelia, do…! Slow down… a bit. No harm will come to you," he wheezed.
"Of that I am quite aware, with no assistance from you. Do try and keep up, Mr. Gilbertson- recall it was your idea to walk to the hotel."
"A nice stroll, yes," he nodded grimly, wiping his face with a handkerchief and then shortly thereafter seemed to have gained his second wind, giving me leave to continue on.
When we arrived, half of the lobby seemed to descend upon me. Herr Baehler, the concierge, a good deal of safragis and Evelyn and Walter rushed to my side. Evelyn practically enveloped me in pink lawn as she embraced me tightly.
"Oh, Amelia, we were so worried about you! You were gone so long and Mr. Emerson hadn't heard from you… I am so glad to see you're all right."
"Of course I am all right. Have I ever been anything but?" I said with a grin and adjusted my hat. Hearing a cough at my side, I rolled my eyes and made introductions.
"What did Sir Baring say?" Walter asked, once we had found ourselves an open divan and had dispersed the clinging hotel staff.
"Well, I'm afraid I did not get a chance to speak with him," I confessed, watching Evelyn's face contort with concern. "However, I do have an appointment tomorrow and I'm sure everything will be ironed out then," I ended optimistically, ignoring Mr. Gilbertson's wide, inquiring eyes. "Have we rooms?" I said, before Mr. Gilbertson could ask the question hovering on his lips.
"Mr. Baehler has given us our old rooms but Walter says that he and Mr. Emerson will find lodging elsewhere," Evelyn informed me.
"Where will you stay? Somewhere close by, I hope?"
"My brother and I have several acquaintances in town," Walter replied evasively. "I'm sure we'd be staying with them."
"Oh. Speaking of your brother, is he still at the dahabeeyah?" I asked. When we had moored in the afternoon, Emerson had announced his intentions of staying with the boat, lest our criminals escape while I went to the consulate and Walter and Evelyn would procure rooms for the night. I confess I was a bit put out when I did not see him among the welcoming crowd but sensible judgement demanded the necessity of someone remaining on guard.
Walter replied in the affirmative.
"Perhaps I should return and make sure all is well?"
"Amelia, you cannot possibly be considering that! To leave now, alone and unprotected? It is sheer folly!" Evelyn protested, grabbing hold of my hand.
"It is not so far," I said, reclaiming my hand.
Mr. Gilbertson decided to perk up by adding his own comments of warning, "Miss Amelia, you underestimate the dangers of the streets here at night. She wanted to walk hear unescorted," he confided to Walter with a smug grin.
"That sounds like our Amelia," Walter replied with a genial smile. "Surely you know by now that Emerson can handle himself?"
"Oh, I am sure of it- it is Lucas who I do not trust," I said darkly, rising. (My Critic, looking over my shoulder, reminds me that I have addressed that villianous individual by his Christian name. I would like to remind him that I did so not out of affection but of a wish to no further scandalize Evelyn in front of Mr. Gilbertson.)
"Amelia, please, will you not reconsider?" Evelyn pleaded.
"My mind is quite made up, I am sorry," I said with a shake of my head, gripping the handle of my parasol firmly.
"At least let Walter go with you," she said, with a nod towards her fiance.
Walter seemed about to accept this duty like the gentleman he is, but Mr. Gilbertson preceded him.
"I will escort you to your ship, Miss Amelia," he said conceitedly, his nose in the air as he stood. "After all, I got you here with no troubles," he reminded the three of us, wagging his finger at me.
I leveled a glare at him and was about to reply with some scathing comment on his lack of assistance from the consulate when I saw Evelyn and Walter out of the corner of my eye. They looked so happy together- they did not wish to be apart just as much as I wished to go to Emerson's side. It would be cruel for me to whisk Walter away… especially now, with his first chance of sleeping in a more comfortable bed.
"Very well, Mr. Gilbertson. Put your hat on and let us make haste. I would prefer to get to the wharves before dawn," I said, turning on my heel and starting towards the door.
Ten minutes later, having found Mr. Gilbertson's missing glove- which was in his pocket- we finally left Shepheards hotel.
TBC…
