I regained my balance and looked at the top of the stairs. “No, Miss Smith, I was simply musing aloud. Is there something I can do for you?” I didn’t add that the only thing I wanted to do for her was wave as she left for Minya.

She was wearing a lime green gown, a gaudy scarf, and an emerald tiara. Her lipstick had been applied by an unsteady hand and the red circles on her cheeks were asymmetrical. She realized that I was staring at her. “I apologize for my appearance, Mrs. Emerson. I have not been myself since the horrific experience two nights ago. I have been unable to sleep or eat. I have come to beg for your advice about Mr. Dullard.” I gestured for her to sit down and joined her. She sat down with a thud and began to wring her hands. “He may have saved our lives, but at the expense of another’s. Shall I forgive him?”

“Allow me to offer you a glass of water,” I said to stall before enlightening her with the sordid story of Dullard’s treachery.

“Very kind of you, Mrs. Emerson. I would prefer a wee drop of sherry to calm my nerves. I am not unfamiliar with violence. Do you recall my book in which Lady Whitbread was attacked in her tent and forced to decapitate the Sheikh’s evil twin brother to protect her virtue?”

“I may have missed that one,” I murmured, beginning to feel uneasy.

“When I return home to England, I shall send you a copy. In another book, the heroine suspects that the sheikh murdered her brother, and is determined to seek revenge. She creeps up behind him, wraps her scarf around his neck, and would have succeeded in strangling him had he not in his last gasp persuaded her of his innocence.” She took a gulp of the sherry that I had handed her. “Family loyalty is the basis of civilization. I understand that you have a son named Ramses.”

My uneasiness escalated. “Yes, and I am very proud of him.”

“Despite the fact that he has engaged in murder?”

“Ramses has a kind heart and does everything possible to avoid causing physical pain to his enemies.”

“Although I write under the pen name Miss Ermintrude de Vere Smith, I have been married twice and have had sons of my own. I understand your need to defend Ramses, but he is not a chivalrous knight.” She went to the cart and replenished her drink. “You have had many encounters of a murderous nature, have you not? You may dismiss them by claiming self-defense, but I know better.”

Panic overrode uneasiness. “Shall we return to a discussion of Mr. Dullard? I regret to say that I have learned some disturbing information about him. He is an agent of someone at the German embassy—”