“I am such an admirer of yours,” came Regina’s young voice. “I devoured your handbook on Egyptian hieroglyphs. Oh, I know it is published under your father’s name, but rumor has it that it’s all from your pen.”
Catriona’s reply was too soft to decipher.
“I aspire to follow in your footsteps,” Regina went on. “If my parents allowed me to come up to Oxford, I should be the happiest woman in England—I can feel my spirits rising just by looking at these marvelous old buildings!”
Next to Elias, Mr. Leighton chuckled. “My niece is very passionate about her education,” he explained. “I daresay she’s keener on seeing my latest acquisitions than I am.”
Elias slowed. “You haven’t seen the pieces yet?”
“I haven’t,” replied Leighton. “They were in crates when they arrived, and I didn’t stay for the unpacking. Except for the bulls—splendid creatures.”
They entered the dining hall. The long rows of student tables were empty but the perpendicular High Table was busy with dons, among them Wester Ross.
“I had been under the impression that you had extracted the pieces in person,” Elias said, his voice sounding normal enough.
Leighton looked surprised, his upper lip curling with amusement. “Me? Oh no. I haven’t ventured into that part of the world in years—not since I gave up the trade post in the region. The food doesn’t agree with me.” He shamelessly patted his stomach. “My brother is an attaché in Damascus. His son—Regina’s brother here—embarked on a grand tour this spring and I sponsored him in exchange for some souvenirs. Ah, Wester Ross—it’s a pleasure.”
Souvenirs.
He focused on pulling out Catriona’s chair. They were facing the wall behind the table, aged ebony wood paneling and rows of old portraits in heavy frames. Leighton, Miss Regina, and the earl were seated facing them, with a view over the hall.
While the Latin prayer was being read, Elias looked down at his hands. Over the monotone incantation, his heating temper cooled a little. He heard Catriona’s breaths, flowing softly in and out. He tried not to look at her; she wore a snugly fitted satin gown with a tartan bodice that attracted him.
The first course was a root vegetable soup with parsley garnish. After a few spoonfuls, Mr. Leighton turned his attention back to Elias. “What do you think of the local fare, Mr. Khoury?” he asked. A bit of green was stuck to his canine tooth.
“I find it better here than at Cambridge,” Elias replied.
Leighton made a pleased moue. “You’re a Cambridge man. What college?”
“I was at King’s.”
“My nephew, the one I mentioned earlier, Wilfred is his name, was up at Trinity. Wilfred Leighton.”
“I’m not familiar with the name, I’m afraid.”
“Either way, you’re well accustomed to the English cuisine, then,” Leighton mused as he dabbed at his lips with his napkin. “No nasty surprises for you here, I hope. Though I have a theory, namely that the attack on the midsection affects Westerners traveling east rather than vice versa. What do you think, Wester Ross?”
Wester Ross looked surprised, but he duly studied his soup through his round spectacles. “Well,” he then said, “these parsnips certainly look universally agreeable to me.”
He raised his spoon toward Elias in a bizarre little toast.
“Sahtein,” Elias said, his smile showing too many teeth.
Miss Regina’s attention drifted over him, increasingly insistent, so he looked at her. A blush crested on her cheeks.
“That was Arabic, wasn’t it,” she said.
“It was, yes.”
“What does it mean?”
He turned to his table partner, who was notably too quiet. “Perhaps Lady Catriona will tell you. Her Arabic is very good.”
Catriona stiffened slightly, but she obliged. “I’m not familiar with all the words in Mr. Khoury’s dialect,” she said to Miss Regina, “but I assume it means ‘enjoy your food.’？”
“Yes,” Elias said, “that’s the meaning.”
Miss Regina was looking back and forth between them with poorly concealed intrigue.
“In Egypt, one would say ‘bil hana wa ashfa,’？” Catriona added.
“Such a difference,” Miss Regina said, and shook her head.
Around them, footmen quietly prepared the table for the second course. White and red wine was poured.
Just when Elias had picked up his glass, the young woman leaned in.