Виктория Холт - Curse of the Kings

Yet I could not tell even him of my fears, because I could not bear to discuss Tybalt. It was bad enough that I, in my private thoughts, could build up such a monstrous fabrication. He had asked me to marry him suddenly; I was an heiress and now Theodosia's death had made me a very rich woman. Theodosia's death! Oh no, I would not accept such absurdly wicked thoughts. Anyone might have stepped onto the bridge. Yet it had been Theodosia and her death had made Tybalt's wife a very rich woman. Tybalt needed money for his work. Was this why he had married a rich wife? If Tabitha had been free . . . But her release had come too late. "Too late ..." I could hear her voice with that note of sadness in it, that deep and bitter regret.

I stood between them. If I were not here Tybalt and Tabitha could marry, and who would inherit a rich wife's fortune but her widower!

My imaginings were becoming fantastic.

I don't know whether I imagined it but from that time I began to feel that I was often followed. I was nervous. I was afraid to be by myself in a lonely part of the palace; footsteps began to sound stealthy, and in the silence I would find myself looking over my shoulder furtively. This was unlike me. I had been the one to laugh at the stories of the big black bat. I had teased Theodosia but now it seemed that I had inherited her fears as well as her money.

Yet I had an irresistible urge to come face to face with my fears. I wanted to know because at the back of my mind was the thought: It is Tybalt. He wants to be rid of me. And on the heels of that thought was another: That's a lie. He cares more for his profession than for you, which is natural since he loves another woman. But he would never harm you. You know that.

But I was not sure which side of the question was the true one and because it was imperative to my peace of mind, to my future happiness to find out, I could not resist the temptation to frighten myself.

It was in this mood that alone I took an arabiya to the Temple. I left my driver and told him to wait for me.

As I entered the Temple I was aware of the stillness all about me. I was the only person, it seemed, who had come here today. I stood among the tall pillars and remembered the day when Theodosia and I had come here together.

I tried to give my entire attention to the carvings which depicted the history of Egypt. I was not really concentrating though; I kept listening for the sound of footsteps, for the sudden swish of robes. I don't know what it was but I had a strange sensation that I was not here alone and that something evil was close to me.

I studied the elaborate carving on the pillar. There was King Seti with his son who was to become Ramses the Great. And on another carving was Queen Hatshepsut.

I was sure someone was close to me, watching me. I fancied I heard the sound of deep breathing. He had only to stretch out a hand and catch me.

I felt my heart thundering. I must get out of this maze of pillars; I would get right out into the open. With all speed I must make my way to my arabiya and tell my driver to take me back to the palace.

Thank God the arabiya and the driver would be waiting. If I did not return they would know that I was missing. But would they?

The pillars of the ancient ruined Temple were close together like trees in a forest. Someone could be standing behind one of them, close to me, yet I would not see him if he were using one as a shield. At any moment murderous hands could seize me. I could be buried here in the sand. And the driver of my arabiya? A little money exchanging hands. Not a word to be said about the lady he had brought out to the Temple. It would be very simple. If a girl could disappear from a shop in the souk and be thrown into the Nile in place of a doll, surely I could be disposed of. But I was the wife of the leader of the expedition. There would have to be some explanation of my disappearance. But if that leader was content to accept some explanation which could be fabricated . . . He had been ready enough to accept the fact that Yasmin had been murdered and regard it as of little importance. But this would be his wife. A wife of whom he wished to rid himself?

That was the thought which had been in my mind, and here in this sinister and ancient Temple I could come face to face with my real fears. Perhaps I could also come face to face with a murderer.

Yes. Someone was close. A shadow had fallen across my vision, a tall shadow. Someone was stalking me. The pillars protected him from my view, but suddenly he would catch me; his hands would be about my throat and I would look up into his face. Tybalt's face? No. That was going too far, that was being absurdly wild. It was someone who was trying to stage another accident. Someone who wanted us to go from here. Someone who had tampered with the bridge, who had killed Theodosia and now it would be so much more effective to kill the wife of the leader.

I stood very still, trying to calm myself. I was being dramatic, stupid, letting my imagination run away with me. Hadn't Dorcas and Alison said I used to do that and that I would have to stop it.

There was one thing of which I was certain. I was afraid.

I started to run; I touched the pillars as I passed.

I emerged from the shadow of the pillars into the open. The sun hit me like a blow. It sent little chinks of brilliant white light through the weave of my chip straw hat.

I had almost fallen into the arms of Leopold Harding, who was coming towards me.

"Why, Lady Travers, what's wrong?"

"Oh . . . nothing. I didn't see you."

"I saw you come rushing out of the Temple. I was just about to go in."

"Oh ..." I said, "I'm glad you came ..." I was thinking: Perhaps he, that anonymous murderer, heard your arabiya arrive, perhaps that was why he allowed me to escape. I added quickly: "It's worth a second visit."

"A wonderful old place. Are you sure you are all right?"

"I think I was a little overcome by the heat."

"You shouldn't rush about, you know. Would you like to take a walk round with me?"

"Thank you, but I think I'll go back to the palace. My arabiya is waiting for me."

"I shall not allow you to go back alone," he said.

I was glad of his company. It helped to dispel my absurd fears. He talked about practical matters such as how he had succeeded in making his arrangements for the despatching of his goods.

"It has been a very successful trip," he said. "It is not always so. Of course one buys a lot of stuff which we call 'run-of-the-mill.' One makes a small profit and this makes these transactions worth while. But occasionally there are the real finds."

"Have you any this time?"

"I think so ... yes, I think so. But one is never sure, and however fine the piece one has to find the buyer for it. That's business. Here is the palace. Are you all right, Lady Travers?"

"Perfectly, thank you. It was the heat, I think."

"Very trying and exhausting. I'm glad I was there."

"Thank you for your kindness."

"It was a pleasure."

I went to my room and lay on my bed. The fear still hung over me.

Had I been right? Was it a premonition which had set my skin pricking and the goosepimples rising? Had I really been in danger? Was, as the soothsayer would have said, the big black bat hovering over me? Or was I imagining this, because I had discovered that my husband loved another woman and wanted to be rid of me?

I must have been there for ten minutes when there was a knock on my door. I sat up hurriedly while the door opened slowly, stealthily. A pair of dark eyes were watching me.

"Lady would like mint tea? Lady very tired."

Mustapha was regarding me pityingly. I thanked him. He stood for a few moments and then he bowed and left me.