‘I am envious because I haven’t seen everything I want to see, or travelled to all the places I wish to travel,’ Laurence said. ‘Just because I write plays doesn’t mean I can’t have other interests.’
‘But the study of ancient Egypt must be one’s passion,’ Lady Joanna said. ‘A person could spend a lifetime engaged in such work and never know all there is to know. I’m sure the same could be said about writing plays.’
‘Yet, did Shakespeare not write a play about Caesar and Cleopatra?’ Laurence countered. ‘One that would have necessitated his having a thorough understanding of the history of the time in order to be able to write about two of its most colourful characters?’
‘Of course, but Shakespeare was first and foremost a playwright. Any research he did would have been undertaken to validate the dialogue and the lifestyles of the characters about which he wrote. You claim an interest in a field that is as strongly felt as what you must feel for writing.’
Laurence couldn’t argue with that because he couldn’t tell her that his first love really was history and that he wasn’t a famous playwright at all, that the mask he wore as Valentine Lawe was precisely that. But neither could he deny that her persistent doubts were beginning to bother him. ‘Lady Joanna. You do not know me well. Indeed, you do not know me at all, but I trust you will believe me when I say that I am capable of having interests in areas beyond those for which I have gained renown. Yes, I am a student of the classics and have read and enjoyed the works of Socrates and Shakespeare,’ he said quietly. ‘However, I also enjoy music, art, sport and history. Egyptian history, in particular. I have followed the exploits of Mr Burckhardt and Monsieur Champollion, having been fascinated by the latter’s précis du système hiéroglyphique , and I am here tonight because I admire your father’s work and want to learn more.’
‘But what I saw of you last night—’
‘Has nothing to do with who or what I am now,’ Laurence said in frustration. ‘Had you not seen me at Mrs Blough-Upton’s house last night, we would not even be having this conversation. But you did and we are and this difference in opinion is the result. But believe me when I say that I am not here under false pretences. I’ve come to sit at the foot of a man I have long admired and to learn from his experiences. Now, are you going to grant me the promised introduction, or shall I ask Mr Dustin to do it for you?’
Laurence knew his words had made an impression. Lady Joanna obviously hadn’t expected him to take exception to her remark, nor to contest it as vigorously as he had. But he wasn’t about to stand here and be questioned about a subject he was genuinely interested in, simply because Lady Joanna Northrup believed him more interested in something else!
The seconds ticked by as she stared at him. Then, obviously coming to a decision, she nodded her head. ‘That will not be necessary. If you will follow me, I will introduce you to my father.’
It was not an apology and Laurence knew better than to mistake it for one. He might have come away the victor in this small battle of wills, but he was a long way from emerging triumphant in the war. Lady Joanna had more respect for her father’s assistant than she did for him. When she looked at Penscott, she saw a man whose interest in Egypt was as keen as her own and whose credibility in the field had been established as a result of the years of work he had done at her father’s side.
All she saw when she looked at him , Laurence reminded himself, was a man who made up stories about people who existed in make-believe worlds. One who wore fancy clothes and was admired for the extent of his imagination rather than the sharpness of his intellect.
Well, that was going to change, Laurence decided as he followed her towards the front of the room. He might not succeed in winning her heart, but he was damned if he was going to walk away without at least having gained her respect!
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