The Passion of Cleopatra (Ramses the Damned 2)

"I see this too," said Julie. "But to the point, Alex knows of the elixir, but he has not asked. And now it seems Cleopatra no longer asks for more of it to make her well."

"We have time to decide these

many things," said Ramses. He rose from the table and moved across the carpet of the drawing room until he found himself close to the fire. He reached out to feel its direct heat. He thought again of this war in Europe, this dark tragedy that had fallen over the world he had only just discovered.

"Well, I must be going," said Elliott, rising to his feet. "I must get out of London. I must not be seen again by Edith, and I must not be seen by Alex, and I must not be seen by old friends. I have no choice but to go back to the Continent no matter what the war brings, but I don't advise either of you to come with me. I advise you to remain here, to travel in England, to go north, perhaps, to find some refuge for yourself until we see what this war reveals."

"But, Elliott," said Julie, "when will we meet again?"

"I don't know," said Elliott. "I can reach you at this address, can I not, and through Stratford Shipping, and through your solicitors."

"Always," said Julie. "Or at least until--. But that won't be for many years."

"And I shall give you this," said Elliott, removing a card from his jacket pocket. "The address and number of my new private solicitor, unknown to my family."

Ramses took the card from his hands. He memorized the names, the numbers.

"And of course there are the family representatives," said Elliott. "After I'm gone, officially, that is, you'll have to rely on the new man. I may go from the Continent to America. I haven't yet made up my mind. I have a great desire to see South America in particular, to see Brazil, and to travel through the more mysterious lands...."

He stopped. He picked up his hooded overcoat, and then he stopped again and looked at Julie. The tears in his eyes. She rushed into his arms. They embraced in silence, and Ramses heard Elliott's whisper. "Beautiful child, beautiful immortal child."

"I've come to a decision," said Ramses. "Before you leave us, I want to give you the secret of the elixir. I want the ingredients engraved on your minds, both of you, as they are engraved on mine."

"No," said Elliott. "I thank you for your trust, Ramses, but I don't want it. I can't trust myself with it. Not now."

"But, Elliott, what if this war or some other circumstance separates us?" asked Ramses. "What if it's years before we meet again?"

"No, Ramses. I'm not ready for that burden. I know I'm not. My heart isn't experienced enough. And it won't be for many years."

Ramses nodded. "You have always surprised me, Elliott Savarell," he said. "You are indeed a truly unusual man."

"There will come a time, yes," said Elliott, "when I may beg you for the secret. But you mustn't give it to me now."

For a long moment they remained there in quiet together, stranded in the drawing room, gazing at one another, and then finally Elliott approached Ramses and embraced him. He whispered the words "Until we meet again."

Julie and Ramses stood behind the lace curtains of the window watching the figure of the earl as he moved out of sight.

Noises came from the dark surrounding city, unusual noises, noises near and distant and out of keeping with the small hours, noises perhaps that spoke of dread and excitement on the part of the restless populace in the grip of the news of the war. Ramses longed for newspapers to read, for the conversation in taverns and cafes, for the wireless and voices of government speaking of what was to come.

But there was time for all that.

"I shall miss him terribly," said Julie.

"And what about you, my beloved?" said Ramses. "Are you ready for the secret I have to give?"

"No, I don't think I am, my dearest," said Julie. "I think I know precisely what Elliott means when he says he's not ready. I fear my love for Sibyl Parker, for Alex. I fear my heart. I think I must trust in you for now and perhaps forever, Ramses. I think you must be the one to give this gift, not me."

"You don't know what you're saying," Ramses replied. But he nodded. This would do for now. He turned and embraced her and held her close to him.

"Very well, my darling," he said. "And so we go on as before. So we begin our journey again through the world."

"Not now, precious one," she said. "Perhaps in a few hours, yes. But for now, it's quite enough for me if we journey one more time up those stairs."

"Allow me," he said, and he gathered her up in his arms.

Up the long stairway he carried her and into the bedroom, and laying her down on the bed, he closed and locked the door. He wanted no more sudden visitors, no servants returning with talk of the war.

It was still dark outside. A shivering night-light in a porcelain shade illuminated the room.