so much paper it would cost a fortune to produce and purchase. But if you learn night writing and if the vicar allows me to visit my sister at Christmas, I will bring you the pamphlets and poetry back to read.”
Nash nodded, but he was still amazed that her blind sister had married a man with sight. Although, he supposed he would not be put off by a woman without sight, but a man without sight was helpless and useless. No woman would want him as a husband. “You were telling me about Cairo,” he said. He hadn’t meant to divert her from the subject, but it was easy enough. She loved to talk, and Nash found he liked listening to her.
“Yes, it was our first mission trip without my sister, and so I was trapped all day with my brothers who were five and seven. They were little terrors and constantly hitting each other or biting or wrestling on the floor.”
Nash laughed. Having two older brothers himself, he understood exactly what she must have witnessed.
“I took every opportunity to escape them, and I would put on a dress called a sebleh. I had a very pretty one in black with red and gold embroidery around the neck and along the front. Women in Egypt wear trousers under their skirts. They’re called tshalvar.”
“Ah, so this is where the idea of trousers took root?”
“Believe it or not, in Egypt it is considered scandalous for women to not wear trousers. They protect modesty much better than simply hoping a strong wind doesn’t kick up one’s skirts.
“And then because I wanted to remain anonymous and keep my parents from knowing I was out and about, I wore a head covering called a burqa that concealed my head except for my eyes. I could explore the markets and the city that way. Cairo is not so different from London. There are beggars everywhere and vendors with their stalls, calling out their wares. The smells are different. In London you might catch the scent of potatoes, leeks, or onions. In Egypt, I would smell spices like cumin, aniseed, and bay leaves.”
As she went on, Nash closed his eyes, finding he could picture all she described. The sounds, the sights, the smells, even the feel of the hot, dry desert air sucking the moisture from his skin.
“And then I met Abubakar. He was the son of a powerful and wealthy government official. I don’t know much about Abubakar’s father. I just know my parents had to have his blessing to have their church services and continue their preaching. We had met formally several times when my parents came to his father with some grievance or other, and then once we met in the market. He took me to places in the city I would never have found on my own and introduced me to many of his friends. This would never have been allowed if I was an Egyptian girl, but I was given some allowance since I was from the West. Still, it was not proper for the two of us to be seen out on the street very often, so we would go to his rooms to enjoy a light meal and then one thing led to another...”
“He seduced you.”
“I think the seduction was mutual, but yes.”
Nash heard the tone of wistfulness in her voice and found himself unreasonably jealous. And yet, why should he care about a man she had known years ago in a country far away? But he could picture her on a bed of silk, a man feeding her dates, then leaning down to kiss her as boats floated down the Nile outside the window behind them.
Nash shook his head. He wanted to be that man. He was here now, and for the moment, at least, he was the only man with her.
“And then my parents found out what was happening,” she said with a sigh. “You can’t ever keep anything a secret in Egypt. Perhaps not in London, either. Too many servants wanting to gossip. I don’t know what happened to Abubakar, probably nothing, but I was sent home immediately to stay with Anne and Mr. Thomson. My parents returned some months later, and we lived in less than perfect harmony until I was sent here.”
She took a deep breath. “Now they are off on another adventure, and I am here on my own adventure.” Her hand covered his, and she squeezed lightly. Nash could not help but smile.