The Rosetta Key

“You seduce her, you take her, you leave without a word, and now you bring this?” He was getting angrier, not calmer. “I spit on your gift!” Clearly he didn’t understand. “Then you spit on the humble apology of your own future brother-in-law.”

“What?” they said together. Miriam was looking at me in disbelief.

“I’m ashamed I had to go without explanation and leave both of you wondering these past few weeks,” I said. “I know I seemed lower than a snake in a sewer. But I had a chance to finish our quest so I did, keeping this prize from the French who’d misuse it. They’ll never get the book now, because even if they break through I can send it out to sea on Smith’s ships. I finished what we started, and now I’m back to finish the rest. I want to marry your sister, Jericho. With your permission.”

His face was churning with disbelief. “Are you completely mad?”

“I’ve never been saner in my life.” The answer had been right before me, I’d realized. One god or another was showing me the sensible path by snatching Astiza away. We were poison for each other, fire and ice who ended up in peril whenever we got together, and the poor Egyptian woman was better off without me. Certainly my heart couldn’t take losing her again. Yet here was gentle Miriam, a good woman who’d learned to blow a man’s head off with a pistol but still set an example of a good, quiet life. That’s what I’d really found in the Holy Land, not this silly book! So now I’d marry a proper girl, settle down, forget my pain over Astiza, and be done with battles and Bonaparte forever. I nodded to myself.

“But what about Astiza?” Miriam asked in wonder.

“I’m not going to lie to you. I loved her. Still love her. But she’s gone, Miriam. I rescued her as I had before, and lost her again as I had before. I don’t know why, but it’s not meant to be. The last few hours of hell have opened my eyes to a thousand things. One is how much I love you, and how wonderful you’ll be for me, and how good, I hope, I can be for you. I want to make an honest couple of us, Jericho.

I seek your blessing.”

t h e

r o s e t t a k e y

2 6 1

He stared at me a long time, his expression inscrutable. Then his face twisted in a strange way.

“Jericho?”

It crinkled, and finally he burst into laughter. He howled, tears streaming down his face, and Miriam began laughing too, looking at me with something disturbingly close to pity.

What was going on?

“My blessing!” He roared. “As if I’d ever give it to you!” Then he winced, reminded by the pain of the hole in his shoulder.

“But I’ve reformed, you see . . .”

“Ethan.” Miriam reached out and touched my hand with hers. “Do you think the world stands still while you go on these adventures of yours?”

“Well, no, of course not.” I was more and more confused.

Jericho got himself under control, gasping and wheezing. “Gage, you have the timing of a broken chronometer.”

“What are you telling me?” I looked from one to the other. “Do I have to wait until the war’s over?”

“Ethan,” Miriam said with a sigh, “do you remember where you left me when you went to find Astiza?”

“In a house here in Acre.”

“In a doctor’s house. A physician in this hospital.” She opened her eyes, looking past me. “A man who found me in tears, confused and self-hating when he came home to finally snatch a few hours of sleep.”

Slowly, I turned. Behind me was the Levantine surgeon, dark, young, handsome, and altogether more reputable-looking, despite his bloodstained hands, than a gambler and wastrel like me. By John Adams, I’d been played the fool once again! When the gypsy Sarylla had given me the Fool tarot card, she’d known what she was about.

“Ethan, meet my new fiancé.”

“Doctor Hiram Zawani at your service, Mr. Gage,” the man said with that kind of educated accent I’ve always envied. It makes them sound three times as smart as you, even if they don’t have the sense of a dobbin. “Haim Farhi said you’re not quite the rascal you seem.” 2 6 2

w i l l i a m d i e t r i c h

“Doctor Zawani made an honest woman of me, Ethan. I was lying to myself about what I wanted and needed.”

“He’s the kind of man my sister needs,” Jericho said. “No one should know that better than you. And you brought them together!

You’re a confused, shallow human being, Ethan Gage, but for once you did something right.”

They smiled, as I tried to figure out if I’d been complimented or insulted.

“But . . .” I wanted to say she was in love with me, that surely she must have waited, that I had two women vying for my attention and my problem was sorting between them . . .

In half a day, I’d gone from two to none. The ruby and the gold were gone, too.

Well, hang.

And yet it was liberating. I hadn’t been to a good brothel since fleeing Paris, and yet here it was, the chance to be a free bachelor again. Humiliating? Yes. But a relief? I was surprised how much so.

“It’s splendid how these things work out,” Smith had said. Lonely?

Sometimes. But less responsibility, too.