The Snake, the Crocodile, and the Dog - Elizabeth Peters [181]
“That was what made his masquerade so convincing, Cyrus,” I said. “That he acted as you would have done. My dear old friend, this day has brought one happy result. I am so glad, so very glad, that the reports of your death were greatly exaggerated.”
As I had hoped, my little joke distracted him, and left him chuckling.
“Good work, Peabody,” said Emerson, as we mounted the stairs arm in arm. “But you only postponed the inevitable. Between now and tomorrow morning we had better come up with a good explanation for Sethos’s energetic activities for and against us.”
“I am not certain I fully comprehend his motives myself,” I admitted.
“Then you are either stupid, which I do not believe, or disingenuous, which is equally unlikely,” said Emerson coldly. “Would you care to have me explain them?”
“Emerson, if you are going to pretend you knew all along that man was not Cyrus Vandergelt, I may … I may be forced to…”
I did not complete the sentence. Emerson had shut the door of our room behind us. Taking me into his arms, he held me close. It was a sacred moment—a silent but fervent reaffirmation of the vows we had made to one another on that blissful day when we two had become one.
One of the supreme moments in a woman’s life must be when she hears from the lips of the man she loves, without prompting or even little hints, the precise words she secretly yearns to hear. (It is also, I believe, a rare occurrence.)
“I loved you from the first, Peabody,” Emerson said, his voice muffled against my hair. “Even before I remembered you. From the moment you dropped down from the ceiling brandishing that pistol I knew you were the only woman for me—for even in trousers, my dear, your gender is unmistakeable. All those days I was like a man wandering in a mist, seeking something desperately desired …”
“But you did not know what it was,” I murmured tenderly.
Emerson held me off at arm’s length and scowled at me. “What do you take me for, a moonstruck schoolboy? Of course I knew what it was. Only there seemed no easy or honorable way to get it. For all I knew then, I did have a boring conventional wife and a dozen boring conventional children somewhere in the background. And you certainly did not behave like a conventional wife. Why the devil didn’t you pound the truth into my head? Such restraint is not like you, Peabody.”
“That was Herr Doktor Schadenfreude,” I said. “He insisted …”
After I had explained, Emerson nodded. “Yes, I see. That fills in the last portion of the puzzle, I think. Shall I tell you how I reconstruct the story?
“To answer the question you asked some time ago—no, I did not know who the devil Vandergelt was. I didn’t know who the devil anyone was! As my memories returned I did not even question the fact that he seemed to have grown younger instead of older since I last saw him. I accepted him because you and the others did.
“I did not suspect him then; but long before that, while we were still in Cairo, I had begun to wonder if we had not been assigned a personal guardian angel. Didn’t it strike you as curious that we managed to escape so many unpleasant encounters because of the apparently fortuitous appearance of rescuers? The first time, when you were carried off at the masked ball, I managed by sheer good luck… Well, if you insist, my dear Peabody; a certain amount of physical and mental agility on my part brought me back in time to retrieve you from your abductor. That was Vincey, of course. I presume you had informed all our archaeological acquaintances that we were attending the affair? It would not be difficult to search the sûks and find the merchant from whom the famous Sitt Hakim had purchased articles of male attire.
“Our ensuing adventures began to assume quite a different complexion. The police official who led his men into a part of Cairo where the police never go, in time