"Do you want to see them?" She reached across the little table and took his hand." Are you ready to leave here now?"
"Yes, it's time to go on, isn't it? And then when we've seen it all, we can leave this land. You and I. ... That is, if you want to remain with me."
Such lovely brown eyes with their deep fringe of brown lashes; and the pure sweetness of her mouth as she smiled. And wouldn't you know? The Earl had just come out of the lift, along with his charming nincompoop of a son, and Samir.
"I'll go with you to the ends of the earth," she whispered.
He held her gaze for a long moment. Did she know what she was saying? No. The question was, did he know what she was saying? That she loved him, yes. But the other, the other great question had never been asked, had it?
They had been heading up the Nile for the better part of the afternoon, the sun beating down with full force upon the striped awnings of the small, elegant steamer. The combination of Julie's purse and Elliott's gift for command had provided them with every luxury. The staterooms of the small boat were as fine as those of the P&O liner which had brought them across the sea. The saloon and dining room were more than comfortable. The cook was a European; the servants, with the exception, of course, of Walter and Rita, were Egyptian.
But the greatest luxury of all was that it was their craft. They shared it with no one else. And they had become, much to Julie's surprise, an extremely congenial group of travelers. Now that Henry was gone, that is. And for that she couldn't have been more grateful.
He'd fled like a coward as soon as they landed in Alexandria. And what a preposterous story, that he would prepare things for them in Cairo. Shepheard's Hotel would prepare things for them in Cairo. They had cabled before they ever started the journey south towards Abu Simbel. They did not know how long their cruise would be; but Shepheard's, the old standby of the British abroad, would be waiting.
Opera season was about to begin, they'd been advised. Should the concierge arrange for box seats for all of them? Julie had said yes, though she could not imagine how this trip would end.
She knew only that Ramses was in fine spirits; that he loved being on the Nile. That he had stared for hours from the deck at the palm trees and the golden desert on either side of the broad, gleaming strip of brown water.
No one had to tell Julie that these were the same airy, fanlike palms painted upon the walls of ancient Egyptian tombs. Or that the dark-faced farmers were drawing water from the river by the very same crude means they had used four thousand years ago. No one had to tell her that the many native boats which passed them were little changed since the time of Ramses the Great.
And the wind and the sun changed for no one.
But there was something she had to do, and it could wait no longer. She sat contentedly in the saloon, idly watching Samir and Elliott play chess. And then when Alex rose from his game of solitaire and went out on the deck alone, she followed him.
It was almost evening; the breeze was cool for the first time, and the sky was slowly turning a deep shade of blue which was almost violet.
"You're a darling," she said." And I don't want to hurt you. But I don't want to marry you, either."
"I know," he said." I've known for a long time. But I'm going to continue to pretend it isn't so. Just as I've always done."
"Alex, don't - "
"No, darling, don't give advice. Let me do things my own way. After all, it's a woman's privilege to change her mind, isn't it? And you may change yours, and when you do, I'll be waiting. No, don't say anything more. You're free. You've always been free, really."
She drew in her breath. A deep pain radiated through her. She felt it in her chest; in the pit of her stomach. She wanted to cry, but this was not the place. She kissed him quickly on the cheek, and then she went down the deck, and into her cabin.