LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

offered a highly informative talk concerning his explorations of the ruins at Dendera and of the many unexpected finds he and his team had made along the way. Numerous samples were documented and described, some that were passed around during the course of the discussion, while the more delicate articles were kept at the front of the room for viewing. Mr Penscott, who turned out to be a former student of Bonnington’s as well as his assistant, was often called upon to elaborate a point, though his explanations, being more straightforward than the earl’s, were better suited to the laymen in the audience.

      Then there were the engravings, incredibly lifelike drawings of hieroglyphs and friezes, drawn in greatly reduced scale, but in such exquisite detail that Laurence could almost picture himself sitting on the artist’s stool, gazing at the magnificent scenes before him. And she had drawn them. Lady Joanna Northrup. To his surprise, the lovely and refined young woman who was destined to become mistress of a grand house in London was also one of the finest illustrators he had ever seen.

      His admiration and respect for her only grew.

      Unfortunately, as the evening went on so did his awareness of the differences between them. She was the daughter of an earl; a woman who lived in a world vastly removed from his and whose privileged life included servants, magnificent houses and all the conveniences money could buy.

      He was the son of a gentleman and a minister’s daughter. Though better educated than most and with opportunities greater than some, Laurence knew he would never achieve the lofty heights necessary to be considered someone with whom Lady Joanna might associate.

      She was a goddess and he a mere mortal bound to earth. Not surprisingly, the discovery left him with a decidedly hollow feeling.

      ‘Smashing good lecture, eh what?’ said the gentleman seated next to him. ‘I’d have given my eye-teeth to be on that expedition. But, I’m the first to admit my travelling days are over.’

      Laurence regarded the gentleman, who didn’t appear to be much over fifty, with amusement. ‘You look as though you still have a good few trips left in you.’

      ‘Appreciate you saying so, m’boy, but traipsing through the desert is work for younger men than me.’ He turned his head and levelled a surprisingly keen look at Laurence. ‘Ever been to Egypt, Mr …?’

      ‘Bretton. And, no, I haven’t. Everything I know about the subject has been learned from books and from following the exploits of men like Lord Bonnington.’

      ‘Pity. Reading about the pyramids is nothing like standing at the top of one of those magnificent structures, knowing as you gaze out over the desert that it holds a thousand secrets you’re never going to be able to uncover. You can’t get any of that from a book.’

      Laurence smiled, recognising in the man beside him the spirit of a true adventurer. ‘You’ve been there.’

      ‘Oh, yes,’ his companion said, ‘and I was younger than you when I made my first trip. Not many young bucks were making the journey back then. Most of them went to Florence and Rome on their grand tours. But Egypt is becoming popular now and I hear there are even ladies making the trip, though I don’t hold with all that nonsense. The desert’s no place for a woman.’

      ‘I heard that, Mr Dustin,’ Lady Joanna said in a tone of mild amusement as she came up behind them. ‘And I take leave to disagree with you.’

      ‘Of course you do, my dear, because you are your father’s daughter and every bit as stubborn, though I won’t hold that against you,’ he said, winking. ‘However, if you’ll excuse me, I want a word with Bonnington before he leaves. I’ve a slight difference of opinion when it comes to his theory about Seti the First, though he’ll likely tell me I’m talking through my hat.’ Abruptly, Mr Dustin turned and extended his hand to Laurence. ‘Don’t forget what I said, young man. If you ever get the chance to go, take it! You won’t regret it.’

      ‘I’ll be sure to remember your advice,’ Laurence said, shaking Mr Dustin’s hand. It was only as he did that he noticed the ebony-topped cane gripped in the gentleman’s other hand and realised why Mr Dustin’s travelling days were over.

      ‘Well, Mr Bretton, did you enjoy the lecture?’ Lady Joanna enquired when they were alone.

      Her tone was no warmer than it had been earlier, but aware that she had, at least, come to speak to him, Laurence decided to make the most of it. ‘Very much. I am more envious than ever of what you saw and experienced while you were there.’

      Her brow furrowed, but in confusion rather than disagreement. ‘Why would you say that? You are a famous playwright. A man much admired in society. What reason can you have for being envious of anyone?’

      ‘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

Скачать книгу