Betty dearest,
I think you'd enjoy the travel we have done so far. Excepting the lunacy that seems to occasionally overtake our party, the sheer joy of seeing all the new sights is quite exhilerating. I can't explain how much I love being on the open road again. I had thought my love of travel extinguishing when Searle's life was, but now I believe it has merely been biding its time until opportunity arose. Truly, I should have done more travel after his death, coming to visit you more often. It just felt too difficult.
It is not difficult now. Indeed, as I stand feeling the ocean spray against the side of the ship, I feel at home. I know shortly we will arrive at Nairobi and my daydreams and the comfort of my cabin will be washed away, but there are moments on every journey where simply being in the moment is enough. I hope I will not forget this when I return.
Moza is unhappy with the living arrangement. I almost wish he had stayed in Cairo, he has been so frightened. He has become more used to the sensation of being onboard, although he still wishes he were on land no doubt. I wonder if it is merely because the ship we are taking is much smaller, and therefore is tossed about a good deal more. The larger cruise ships like the Mauretania almost allow you to forget you are at sea until your eyes reach the horizon. Hopefully we can find larger ships to accommodate us in future.
This ship, The Lady's Finger (which I am assured is not a lewd reference), was the only ship leaving for Nairobi that could take a party as large as ours at such short notice. No doubt if we had waited a few days we could have found something more in the pleasure line, but honestly, I find it enjoyable that we have found ourselves a working ship to travel on. They are a shipping crew, ferrying goods and edibles up and down the continent, which explains the excellent food. Incidentally, if you have the chance, turtle soup is quite delectable. The spices were a little hot for my liking, but the overall dish is quite enchanting.
Leaving Cairo happened quickly. On our return, there was both quiet and commotion. Quiet, in that word from Giza had not yet filtered to our circles, and commotion as an attack had happened in another hotel that had left several men brutally murdered. Point of fact, it was Count Kurosov's hotel.
Violet was distraught, and naturally ran immediately to find the fate of her lover. Sadly, he and several of his bodyguards had perished. As he is dead, I can confide this to you now.
Count Kurosov was quite the gentleman, as I am sure I told you. His breeding shone through, even while he denied he was anything special. What I did not tell you was what Violet confessed to me, that he was a member of the butchered Russian royal family. Not immediate family, but family nonetheless. Family enough that when the Bolsheviks were given an anonymous tip as to his whereabouts, they descended upon the hotel and left bodies in their wake. No doubt the rumours will leak as to Kurosov's connections, but we have lost another royal in that massacre.
Poor Violet, though. I am comforting her as best I can, although with Louis in such close proximity it is quite tricky. I am sure Violet wishes she could properly mourn the Count, and I hope she gets the chance to. While I did not wish the man ill, it does tie up some loose ends nicely. We shall see how that pans out in future.
I am aware that I have not reported all that occurred in Cario, but I am finding it difficult to accept the rest of that tale. For my own part, I am ashamed. For now, I shall return to the ship's deck and enjoy sailing down the beautiful Indian Ocean and attempt to put the dark thoughts behind me.
Yours truly,
Rose
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