Gene of Isis (45 page)

As the gold coins and precious stones cascaded onto our bunk, Devere’s jaw dropped. ‘Where on earth…?’

‘This was my personal insurance policy from Lord Hereford,’ I confessed. ‘I knew that if I declared this gift to you when we married then it automatically belonged to you. Well,’ I summed up, ‘now it does.’

Devere was lost for words.

‘There you have it.’ I pulled on my shirt and sat on the bed beside him. ‘All my secrets.’ Except for the one that I carried inside me, but at this early stage of my pregnancy most women could claim blissful ignorance.

‘There is a small fortune here.’ Devere fingered the jewels, and the coins in different currencies.

‘Certainly enough to get us to the Sinai and back again,’ I proffered.

‘Several times over.’ He gathered the treasure and returned it to the pockets inside the corset. ‘I cannot claim it. Hereford gave this to you and so it shall remain yours.’

‘But, legally, I was wrong to keep it from you,’ I protested.

‘Then you keep it safe for us.’ He handed me
back the fully loaded corset. ‘If we need it, I’ll let you know.’

‘No, I cannot let you squander your inheritance on this mission any longer,’ I insisted. ‘This is my quest and I shall pay.’

‘I promised you extensive travel.’ Devere was just as insistent. ‘I intend to keep my word.’

His resolute manner melted my heart. ‘I do love you, Mr Devere.’ I slid closer to him.

‘And I love you, Mrs Devere.’ He kissed me tenderly and placed the corset aside to take advantage of my semi-naked state. Making love on a ship suited us perfectly, for almost everything was nailed down and so less chance of breakage.

Five days after departing the port of Ostia, Lord Devere and I found ourselves off the coast of Malta.

You see, Lord Malory already suspected that our in-laws were headed toward the Sinai. He had decreed that we would all make the journey if my husband and I were not prepared to be forthcoming with information about our kin’s preferred route and hidden agenda.

We may have been the captives of Lord Malory, but we were treated as honoured guests and the vessel was even more luxurious than Molier’s. There was obviously a lot of money being channelled into these secret brotherhoods, for their great fortune was clearly reflected in their assets.

Lord Malory visited us in our cabin’s lounge, just as he had when we’d passed by every other major port along our route to the East. He came to tempt us with the prospect of disembarking at this port
and seeking transport back to our homeland if we were prepared to tell all.

‘How many times do I have to tell you? I have no interest whatsoever in my brother’s occult pursuits,’ my husband insisted, keeping to his story, and for all I knew he wasn’t lying. ‘Thus, I had precious little reason to inquire after his travel arrangements.’

We had had this conversation quite a few times now.

Malory said that one reason he was so eager to find our sister-in-law was to inform her that her father had taken ill. The Scottish lord also said that he suspected Ashlee could be in danger from what he described as ‘an abomination of nature’. I could only presume the lord was referring to the unearthly personality of Christian Molier and my guess had been confirmed with a nod. My husband then demanded to know why Malory had not waited for Molier to return to Ostia, where Lord Malory’s private army could have vanquished the threat to our sister before Molier got anywhere near her.

But Lord Malory, who had admitted to being the Grand Master of the brotherhood to which Mr Devere belonged, did not want to prevent our sister and Molier from meeting in the Sinai. The Grand Master was well aware of Ashlee’s miraculous talents and her activities over the years, having been kept well informed by my father, Lord Eric Cavandish, and my aunt, Lady Charlotte, the Dowager Countess of Derby. Malory’s task was to prepare Ashlee for the confrontation. His brotherhood believed that Ashlee’s powerful and pure psychic talent could only have been sent into the world to oppose an equally powerful impure force which had
been set free in the world at roughly the same time as her birth.

Lord Hamilton, who had also been a member of the secret brotherhood, had confessed to his Grand Master that he had inadvertently released an ancient, and seemingly malevolent, creature from an underground chamber on Mt Serâbit. Lord Malory believed that the creature had assumed the identity of Christian Molier.

‘What are you saying? Molier is an evil spirit?’ My husband and I struggled to accept the credibility of the lord’s claim.

‘No, we believe he is what might be termed undead.’ We were corrected and, quite frankly, left twice as disbelieving.

Needless to say, my husband was not impressed by the description. ‘This is starting to sound like a bad vampire novel.’

Malory informed us that Mt Serâbit had a long and illustrious history. All the secret knighthoods that had proliferated around the time of the first crusade into the Holy Land believed the mount contained many unearthly treasures capable of being used to perform great feats of good or evil.

Malory explained that he suspected Lord Hereford had taken one such treasure, although Hamilton would never admit to it. Our captor also suspected that, before the Viscount of Herefordshire had died, he’d entrusted this treasure to my sister-in-law’s safekeeping. This was why Molier was so keen to find our kinswoman; at least, that was Lord Malory’s theory.

I put two and two together to conclude that Malory was the man Ashlee had accused of murdering Lord Hamilton and so I found his story a
little too convenient. ‘Lord Hereford may have given such a treasure to our sister-in-law before he was disposed of by your colleagues, don’t you mean?’ I said boldly, and Malory seemed genuinely stunned by my accusation.

‘Lord Hereford died of natural causes, I assure you, Lady Devere,’ he defended. ‘I’ll admit that I was aware of Lord Hereford’s death before the fact, for it was your aunt, Lady Charlotte, who prophesied that Miss Granville would marry Mr Devere, and that there would be an obstruction to the union which would resolve itself. I tried to warn Hereford of this, but he wouldn’t listen. Is it that meeting that gave you reason to suspect my order’s involvement?’

‘Don’t answer that,’ my husband intervened. ‘Whatever the truth behind Lord Hereford’s demise, it is my belief that you secret society fanatics are as certifiable and obsessed as each other!’ Lord Devere stated his belief in no uncertain terms.

For myself, I didn’t know what to think. Ashlee had never mentioned any such treasure to me, yet I had to admit that her psychic powers had increased since Lord Hamilton’s death, as had her ambition to travel to the East.

Having been insulted for the umpteenth time by my Lord Devere, Lord Malory withdrew from our chambers, taking his offer of release with him.

In less than a week our vessel would reach Alexandria, from where, Lord Malory thought, our in-laws would commence their overland journey to the Sinai. It was our captor’s hope to find our kin in this city. Then, perhaps we would all learn the truth behind this mystery.

Two and a half weeks after leaving Ostia we reached the ancient land of Egypt and were nearing the fallen city of Alexandria. We crossed paths with many outward-bound vessels. We proceeded by the fleet of the Pasha anchored under the walls of the seraglio, and negotiated our way through the difficult and dangerous reef-ridden channel to anchor in the harbour.

Mariners were usually guided through the reefs by a local, but Captain Falco was not prepared to let any locals board our vessel, because at the port of Malta there had been reports of a plague in Alexandria. Captain Falco was here to drop us off and then leave; he would not risk his crew.

‘There is plague in the city?’ Thankfully, this was the first my husband had heard of the rumour, or he might have paid the captain to take us elsewhere.

‘In the Frankish quarter of the city it is not much of a concern, apparently, nor in the desert. It is just the poorer parts of town that one need worry about,’ the captain assured us.

‘So much history,’ I uttered, transfixed by the allure of the ancient city.

I was amazed to see that Pompey’s Pillar, a tribute to Egypt’s proud history, still stood tall and was one of the most prominent landmarks of the city.

‘I can’t wait to get in amongst it,’ I said with a huge smile.

‘Are you not listening?’ My husband was very concerned now. ‘There is plague in the city!’

‘When you travel so far abroad you have to expect to face a few hazards.’ I played down the risk.

‘Then we will head straight for the Frankish quarter,’ Devere stated.

‘Agreed.’ Anything to get my husband off the boat.

‘Agreed,’ echoed Cingar, whereby Devere and I both objected.

‘You are definitely going home with Captain Falco,’ I lectured. ‘I shall not be responsible for keeping you from your family any longer.’

‘You need me,’ he stated plainly. ‘Do either of you speak Arabic?’

‘I speak a little,’ I lied. I could read it, but I wasn’t too sure how well I could speak or interpret the local tongue. In truth, what I had heard so far sounded like gibberish.

Cingar gave me a look that implied disbelief, and then spoke a sentence in the local tongue and awaited my response.

I caught a couple of words I recognised and I tried to piece together the overall meaning of what he was saying, but I deliberated too long.

‘You won’t last five minutes,’ Cingar concluded, ‘as I just gave you directions to the Frankish quarter.’ He smiled to rest his case, but then added: ‘Let’s not even discuss what will happen when you attempt to arrange provisions for your journey.’

‘I feel sure there are translators to be found in the city.’ I tried to dismiss the gypsy one last time.

‘But none are so well disposed toward you and your safety as I,’ he stated sincerely, placing his right hand over his heart.

I clicked my fingers as I remembered. ‘Albray speaks Arabic, I’m sure of it.’

‘Albray,’ queried Cingar. ‘Who is Albray?’

‘No one worth mentioning,’ my husband decreed, making it plain by the look he served me
that he did not entirely trust Albray. ‘You are a good friend to us, Cingar.’ Mr Devere was very grateful to our gypsy friend and rather fond of his company. ‘We humbly accept your fine offer and shall be eternally grateful for your guidance.’

The gypsy smiled broadly. ‘Then let us enter Alexandria!’

The dockside streets of the ancient city were a far cry from what they would have been in the glory days of Egypt, although it did feel like we had stepped back thousands of years in time.

Flies swarmed around the masses of dirty, half-naked, sore-eyed Arab men and the donkeys, yelping dogs and camels bustling around the long range of bazaars that lined the way to the Frankish part of town.

We were forced to barge our way through the commotion behind our guide, who seemed to take all the bustle, stench and noise in his stride. For a time I clean forgot that there were such things as obelisks, pyramids and ruined temples; my sole mission was to find some space, and air to breathe. Suddenly, I was a lot more apprehensive about threats of plague and Mr Devere passed me his handkerchief so that I might cover my mouth and nose.

When we eventually cleared the crush, we found ourselves in front of a whole row of fine buildings that were shops stocked with European goods. These were followed by other renovated dwellings dedicated to lodging, business, restaurants for dining and salons for drinking. Amid these were fine country houses, displaying beautiful gardens that grew upon barren sands.

‘What an improvement.’ I couldn’t believe how pompous that statement was, but the Englishwoman in me was completely delighted to find the comforts of home in such an ancient city. ‘What should we do first? Find a room? Go shopping?’

‘I would see Mr Banks, the English consul,’ Cingar suggested. ‘You are required to sign the consular book as a record of your arrival and presence in the East.’

‘But we don’t wish to announce our presence here. What if Molier was to see it?’ I posed.

‘Molier would see the French consul,’ Cingar pointed out, and yet the prospect still made me feel uneasy.

‘Perhaps tomorrow, just before we leave,’ I suggested. ‘What I need right now is a bath.’

The temperature was unbearable and my green velvet attire was not helping.

‘Done,’ Cingar agreed, leading off down the road. ‘As we wish to avoid attention, might I suggest you bypass the more popular hotels and guesthouses of the French, English and Americans. I know an Italian gypsy trader who would be happy to accommodate us. His home is not as grand or prestigious as some, but I guarantee it is more hospitable and comfortable than any in the city.’

As expected, Cingar’s boast did not fall short of expectations. The European part of Alexandria is located in the outlying section of the city and it was in a quiet little back street that we came to the dwelling of Mr Frinkulo Maximoff. Mr Maximoff was a coppersmith by trade and, by fortune, a trader in Middle Eastern exotica to the West. Silks, soaps, statues, spices and scents: his large dwelling was filled with them. The front room of the house was also his store and showroom. Born
in Italy, the Maximoffs were gypsies who became too successful to risk displaying their wares and carrying their fortune on the road. They did the unthinkable and quit the nomadic life to settle on the edge of the desert, where they had lived happily and prosperously for over twenty years.

The Maximoffs did adore having guests, however, and as friends of Cingar, we were warmly welcomed, fed and given the best guestroom in the house. A sunken tiled bath had been hand-filled by the staff with warm water and sweet scented oils whilst we ate. Hence, our room was filled with heady fragrances when we were ready to retire and refresh ourselves.

Our balcony overlooked a large garden courtyard, in which many of the herbs, spices and scents sold by Maximoff were cultivated. I gazed across the rooftops toward the burning sands of Egypt, wafts of scented water from our room mingling with the perfume of the garden carried upon the hot breeze, and I felt myself seduced by the pleasurably unfamiliar atmosphere. This would remain with me for the rest of my life. Whenever I remembered the East, I would be swept back to this magical moment. ‘I think I shall adore this city after all,’ I called to Devere, who was preoccupied inside our room.