The Untamed Bride

Twelve

Verbal pandemonium ensued.

Ignoring all the questions and exclamations, suppositions and speculations, Devil dispatched Vane and Demon, along with Cobby and Sligo, to the tower.

Vane and Demon returned ten minutes later, confirming that the blanket of snow surrounding the house remained unbroken.

“No one’s come in, and no one’s left.” Vane dropped back into his chair. “Cobby and Sligo have gone down to do a quick reconnoiter of the nether regions.”

The pair of erstwhile batmen returned fifteen minutes later to report. By then, the rest of them had beaten all the suppositions to death and been left with a large handful of unanswered, and as yet unanswerable, questions.

“Have to say it’s dreadful outside,” Sligo said. “Not fit for man nor beast. Freeze your…toes off, it would, and Sangay wouldn’t be used to cold like that, would he? Any roads, the scullery maids said they’ve found him looking out the scullery window on and off since yesterday morning. That window looks onto the rear yard, and the snow is undisturbed out that way.”

“Mustaf and I searched his room in the attic,” Cobby reported. “There was nothing there. Literally nothing beyond a comb he’d borrowed from Matara saying he’d lost his own. Sligo found him a page’s coat once we got here-poor lad was shivering and said he had nothing warmer to wear. That wasn’t in the room, nor was Sangay.”

“He’s got the scroll-holder and is worried about being caught,” Deliah said. “So he’s hiding.”

Del met her eyes, nodded. “He’s quick-he must be to have got this far without any of us suspecting. He must have got the wind up when we called the others up here, and gone off to find a safe place to hide.” Del looked at Devil. “The question is: where?”

Devil returned his gaze, then raised his brows. “Strange to say, despite its long past, I don’t believe anyone has ever tried to search this house.”

“Hardly surprising,” Vane said. “The place is immense.”

“Well, there’s a first time for everything.” Honoria looked at Devil. “Ring for Webster. We’ll need to confer.”

Devil nodded. Richard, the closest, rose and tugged the bellpull.

Demon had returned to the sofa beside Flick. “It’s still blowing a gale outside, but there’s no snow falling, and the clouds aren’t promising more. However, the wind is scouring what’s already fallen and blowing it about like the worst sort of sleet. Not even a desperate boy would try to leave just yet. It might be possible by tomorrow, depending on his level of desperation and if it ices over, but today not even Goliath would get twenty yards.”

“That’s something,” Devil said. “So we’ll have at least all day to find him and the scroll-holder.”

“And we’ll most likely need every minute.” Gabriel looked cynically resigned. Alathea poked him. He looked at her. “Just being realistic.”

“Try being encouraging instead.”

Webster arrived, and the talk turned to how best to quarter such a very large house. All the ladies joined in, which drew their menfolk to offer helpful, and in some cases less helpful, suggestions.

At an early point in the proceedings, Devil sent Sligo up to the nursery. He returned to report that all was quiet up there. “The footmen and nursemaids haven’t seen or heard anything-most haven’t sighted Sangay at all-but now they know, they’ll keep their eyes open, and their ears, too, in case he tries to hide somewhere up there.”

Still seated behind his desk, Devil nodded, continuing to jot notes on a piece of paper as, with Webster standing behind him, Gyles perched on the desk to his left, Del in similar position on his right, and Sligo and Cobby hovering near, they thrashed out the basic skeleton of an effective search.

Eventually, Devil reached for a heavy paperweight and banged it on his blotter. “Quiet!”

Everyone fell silent. All heads turned his way.

“Thank you.” He inclined his head to Honoria, then went on, “We’ve come up with a reasonable plan of campaign. Webster and Sligo will coordinate a search of the lower levels, and all the servants’ domains belowstairs. They’ll do that now, first. Once those areas are known to be clear, we’ll seal them off by placing footmen or stable lads at all the relevant doors and on all the stairs. There’s only so many routes that connect abovestairs with below. By blocking those, we can ensure Sangay can’t slip past and get behind the searchers.”

Devil glanced around at the attentive faces. “There’s no sense in being anything but methodical. Once belowstairs is cleared and sealed off, then all those who normally have business abovestairs and so know the basic layout of the house will start searching, working from the ground floor up. We’ll go floor by floor, all the way to the third floor-the attics-if need be. As each floor is cleared, we’ll put watchers on the stairs so Sangay can’t slip through our net.” Devil laid down his notes, looked at the others. “That seems the only way to efficiently and effectively search this place, and we’ll need all hands on deck to help.”

“Well, of course,” Honoria said.

No one disagreed.

“However,” Honoria continued, “I suggest that when it comes to us”-a wave of her hand indicated them all-“we should search in pairs. A lady will think to look in places a gentleman won’t, and vice versa.”

“So we search as couples?” When Honoria nodded, and the other ladies mirrored the gesture, Devil glanced at the males scattered about the room, then smiled in mild acceptance. “That sounds like an eminently…sensible idea.”

Honoria narrowed her eyes at him.

Devil pretended not to notice.

They decided to have an early lunch while the areas beyond the green baize doors were searched. Cobby and Sligo took charge, leaving Webster to supervise the serving of the meal.

The seating was impromptu, resulting in the ladies congregating at one end, flanking Honoria, with the men at the other, on either side of Devil. There was much discussion in both groups. The ladies’ attention centered on the life Sangay must have led to that point, which resulted in a discussion of conditions in India and elsewhere in the colonies. Deliah found herself peppered with questions, most of which she could answer, either from her own experience, or her uncle’s, or Del’s. Over the past days, she’d picked up quite a lot about the Black Cobra and his nefarious ways.

The ladies’ sympathies were all for Sangay. Other than Deliah, all were mothers, and all had baby boys.

They were just finishing the fruit course, a degree of mild excitement burgeoning, when Cobby and Sligo presented themselves. In keeping with the campaignlike atmosphere, they both stood to attention.

“He’s not anywhere belowstairs.” Sligo sounded unshakably confident.

“We’ve cleared the attics, as well, Your Graces.” Cobby nodded respectfully to the table at large. “It was easy enough to open the doors and see the dust hadn’t been disturbed. We left some stable lads to guard the attic doors, just in case, once he hears us searching, Sangay thinks to slip up there.”

“Excellent.” Devil sat back. “You’ve done your bit-you can stand down and hold your lines while we do ours.” He looked around the table. “So here’s what we’ll do.”

It was a massive house, and they would have only so long before the gray light faded. Searching by candelight would be that much harder; with that prospect hovering, they were committed to searching thoroughly, yet as quickly as they could.

They’d agreed each floor had to be declared clear before any of them moved on to the next. On the ground floor, Del walked beside Deliah as she bustled down the corridor into the middle section of the wing to which they’d been assigned. Following them, Richard and Catriona were to search the rooms further along, to the wing’s end, while Vane and Patience had already disappeared into the room nearest the front hall.

The other couples were likewise spread throughout the house, down each of the main wings, and through the central section around the massive stairs.

Many footmen, all the parlor maids and housemaids, all the ladies’ maids and gentleman’s gentlemen-anyone familiar with the rooms abovestairs-were assisting, searching the smaller rooms, the service rooms, storage areas and cupboards hidden behind paneling or tucked between the main rooms. Grooms and stable lads, meanwhile, were positioned on all the stairs.

Reaching their appointed position along the wing, Del saluted Richard and Catriona, then followed Deliah into the billiard room.

She’d halted beside the massive table that dominated the room, looking around, taking stock. “There doesn’t seem all that many places to hide in here.”

“There’s cupboards along the side walls.” Del pointed out the doors cunningly set into the paneling. “They’re deep enough to hide a scrawny boy.”

Deliah nodded. “I’ll take this side.”

Del headed for the other side of the room. Although the billiard table currently held pride of place, this room had originally been a general indoor games room. The cupboards held boards, stacks of cards and assorted paraphernalia associated with various games popular with the aristocracy over the last…Del thought it must be something like a century. Some of the cupboards certainly held enough dust.

Across the room, Deliah sneezed, then muttered, “Ugh-there are spiders.”

A moment later, she reached the end of her wall of cupboards. Straightening, she noticed the heavy velvet curtains looped back with cords framing each of the wide windows. Each swag of gathered curtain was wide enough to hide a boy.

Walking to the windows, she patted and poked the first curtain, then continued along, subjecting the other curtains to the same treatment.

“No boy.” Turning, she arched a brow at Del. “Shall we move on?”

Before he rose, Del looked under the billiard table itself, then he nodded and straightened. “He’s definitely not in here.”

They only had two rooms to search on this level. The next proved to be a minor sitting room adjacent to the conservatory. The room was relatively small and contained no concealed cupboards. The two sideboards it did contain were easy to search, the few pieces of furniture easy to check beneath or behind.

“He’s not here either.” Through the window, Deliah could see Vane and Patience going down the avenues between the plants in the well-stocked conservatory. Every so often, one would duck to look under this palm, or behind that plant; when next she straightened, Patience flung a frowning glance over her shoulder at her spouse. “Perhaps we should help in the conservatory.”

Del came to stand beside Deliah. His lips curved as he looked into the glass-roofed room. “I think Vane has it in hand.”

Arching her brows, Deliah turned away. “In that case, we may as well wait in the corridor.”

As the searchers finished their allotted tasks, all returned to the wide corridors, shaking their heads when others looked inquiringly. Deliah considered the line of people gradually assembling along the wing. Richard and Catriona were strolling back to join them.

Gaze rising, she looked upward, thinking of the bedrooms, sitting rooms, bathing chambers and dressing rooms above. “If I were Sangay, I’d curl up in some unlikely spot-one that might be overlooked.”

Del nodded. “I’d wager that’s exactly what he’s done. And the rooms upstairs provide more scope for that.”

Vane and Patience emerged from the conservatory. Vane shook his head. Patience looked down, straightening her gown.

In the distance, Devil’s voice rang out. “All clear?”

Vane called back from their wing. They heard Gabriel reply from the other. Sangay wasn’t on the ground floor.

“Right, then!” Devil called. “Everyone back to the front hall, then it’s up to the first floor.”

Like well-ordered troops, they all headed for the hall.

Searching thoroughly ate the minutes; the light was starting to fade by the time Deliah and Del, along with all the others, trudged up the main stairs to the second floor.

All the men were starting to look a trifle grim.

Casting a glance at Del as she went past him into the first room they were due to search-a good-sized bedchamber-Deliah inwardly humphed. “I have to say that, quite aside from seeing a room through different eyes, Honoria was very wise in suggesting we search in pairs.” She halted by the foot of the four-poster bed and, hands on hips, surveyed the bedchamber. “At least this way there’s a lady with every overpowering man.”

Del threw her an uncomprehending frown as he walked to the armoire standing against one wall. “We aren’t overpowering.”

“Oh, yes, you are-even you. Or at least you’ll appear that way to a young boy who knows you’re after him.” She started with the bed, bending to check beneath it, then patting the pile of pillows and bolsters at its head.

Even though Sangay had some knowledge of Del, Del was still a man of action-a hard, military man. Even though he’d been out of uniform the entire time she’d known him, there was absolutely no chance of mistaking his bearing. Those shoulders, the way he moved.

As if seeking to refresh her memory, without conscious thought she glanced across the room.

Turning from the armoire, he caught her gaze. Held it for an instant, then slowly arched a brow. “What?”

She waved. “Nothing.” Suddenly feeling unaccountably warm, she turned and went to the window.

Del watched her pat down the cushions covering the wide window seat, then focus her attention on the swagged curtains. Noted the way her hands fluttered as she fussed. That glance she’d cast him…no matter what she said, it meant something. Said something.

Of how she saw him.

Given his resolution of the morning, put in abeyance but only postponed by the search, that-how she saw him-was something he wanted to know. Needed to know.

And, unlike every other couple he’d laid eyes on, he and she had yet to take a break from their searching to investigate other things.

Rounding the bed on silent feet, he closed in on her.

Finished with the window and its accoutrements, she turned-into his arms.

She started, startled, but her body knew his and softened immediately his arms closed around her.

Her widening eyes darted to the door.

Her lips parted-on what protest he didn’t need to know.

He swooped and covered them with his, took them in a long, lingering, searching kiss. With slow deliberation he filled her mouth, her mind, her senses, with something he wanted her to think about instead-him.

He kissed, and persuaded. Lured her into the silent communion, then used it.

Used the caress as a means to show her, to reveal and explain and cajole. He let all that he intended, all that he felt, well and flow through the interaction.

From him, to her.

This was what he felt for her, this was what he wanted, what he needed from her. The comfort, the inexpressible closeness, the simple joy.

The pleasure, yes, but beneath that, more important than that, he wanted and needed…her.

Just her, being there.

Just her, in his arms.

Just her lips against his and her body surrendered.

Her commitment. To simply being there.

For him.

Deliah couldn’t mistake the tenor of his kiss, the truth, the simple honesty, the directness. As if barriers had fallen, as if he’d set some shield aside, she felt immeasurably closer, more linked.

More a part of him.

Sensed that he would be-wanted to be-more a part of her.

Myriad images whirled through her mind. The faint color in Patience’s cheeks as she’d left the conservatory, the glint of something in Catriona’s fine eyes-and the devilish look in her husband’s-when they’d finally congregated on the floor below…was this what they’d been doing?

And was that what she and Del were doing now?

Simply being together, a couple together, acknowledging what lay between them…

Admitting what lay between them.

Yes, that was it.

She knew it was unwise, but as his lips moved on hers, as his tongue caressed hers, she sank into the kiss, sank her hands into his hair and gave herself over to it. Gave herself up to it. Surrendered.

To the simple communion of two people who shared.

The caress stretched, warm, real. They’d reached some plateau-of reality, of understanding-and lingered there for some time, long enough to feel settled, before, with obvious reluctance, he drew back.

It was with real regret that she relinquished his lips and, with a sigh, returned to the mundane world.

Opening her eyes, she looked into his. Dark, rich, inexpressibly warm, his gaze held her.

Told her. Spoke to her. Reminded her of all they’d just shared.

He’d meant it, she realized. Meant her to see, to sense, to know. To experience and understand how he felt for her.

Her heart swelled with the knowledge that she felt the same for him.

For long moments, they stood locked in each other’s gaze, communing silently as they had through the kiss.

A noise-a stealthy shuffle of leather on wood-had her blinking.

Had Del frowning. Raising a finger, he laid it across his lips, then hers.

She nodded. They remained as they were, unmoving and silent. Earlier, locked in the kiss, they must have been all but soundless and motionless for minutes-five, or even more. Long enough for someone hidden to have assumed they’d gone.

But where the devil was he?

Slowly, she turned her head, visually searched one side of the room while Del did the same for the other.

She didn’t immediately see it, not even when another slight sound reached her ears. But the sound fixed her attention on the window…on the window seat.

Del had turned, too. He studied the seat, then glanced at her.

They exchanged a look, then he nodded.

His arms fell from her. Together they turned and silently crept across the floor to the window.

It was a bay window. Without touching anything, she peered around and out, looking through the side panel along the wall of the house. She saw the window of the next bedchamber along-another bay. It would be identical to the window they were studying, and it told her what she needed to know.

Groping blindly, she grasped Del’s sleeve, tugged. Glancing at him, she pointed out of the side window, then silently stepped back.

He looked, saw, but when he turned back to her, incomprehension lit his eyes.

With her hands, she sketched in the air what he’d seen-the protrusion of the bay beyond the wall. It didn’t stop at the bottom of the window, as some bays did, nor did it stop at the level of the window seat. The built-out section continued to floor level, including the area between the seat and the floor.

There was a cavity of some kind beneath the seat.

Understanding dawned; Del pointed below the seat, and she nodded.

Carefully, they lifted the cushions off the wooden seat. Del felt with his fingers, and located the hinges set in the wooden top near the wall.

He glanced at her, and reached for the edge of the window seat.

She did the same, grasping the wooden edge.

She drew breath, then together they swung the seat back.

And looked down into a shadowed box, and a pair of stunned dark eyes.

“Aii-yii!” Sangay let out a wail, struggled to his feet, and tried to leap from the box.

Del caught him, initially by the collar, but when Sangay, head down, flailed at him, he grabbed one thin arm, then the other, swung Sangay around and, pinning his arms to his body, hoisted him out of the window seat and stood him on his feet on the floor.

Trapped with his back to Del, Sangay wriggled, squirmed, then tried to kick.

“Sangay!” Deliah loaded the word with command, and was relieved when the boy slowed his struggles to glance at her. “Stop it. You’ll only hurt yourself. The colonel doesn’t want to hurt you-no one will hurt you if you’ll just stand still.”

Eyes huge, he stared at her, sniffed.

Then his face crumpled. “Oh, no, miss-you don’t understand. The man-the evil sahib-he will hurt my maataa if I don’t-” He caught his breath on a giant sob. “If I don’t, he will…”

Overcome, Sangay opened his mouth to wail again.

“No, he won’t.” Releasing Sangay’s arms, Del dropped a hand on his bony shoulder, gripped firmly. “The evil-sahibs won’t be able to hurt your maataa, Sangay.”

Very slowly, Sangay turned his head to look up at Del. The dawning, all but disbelieving hope in his eyes was painful to see. “They won’t?”

Del shook his head. “I don’t think they’ll be able to. But to be sure, you’ll need to tell us your tale-where you come from, and how you came to be working for the evil-sahibs.”

Sangay swallowed, his eyes locked on Del’s face. “Only one, colonel-sahib. I have seen only one evil-sahib.”

Del nodded solemnly. “I see.”

“I didn’t want to be working for him,” Sangay replied, equally solemn.

“We know that, Sangay,” Deliah said. “He told you that he’d hurt your mother if you didn’t bring him the colonel’s scroll-holder. Is that right?”

Sangay, all round eyes, nodded. “Yes, miss. That is it exactly.”

“Where were you when the evil-sahib found you?” she asked.

“I was in London, at the East India Docks. My captain-I was on a ship from India, you understand. First cabin boy, I was, until…” Sangay blinked. “My captain sent me to fetch him some tobacco from the shop near the docks. The evil-sahib saw me. He took hold of me and dragged me aside, into an alley. He told me his men had my maataa and she would die a terrible death if I didn’t do what he wanted.”

Eyes like bruised brown pansies, Sangay shrugged. “So I had to go with him, and he took me in a coach to some other town with ships-then he sent me into the inn where you were staying to find the scroll-holder.” Sangay paused, then went on, “Then there was the pistol shot, and then there was the panic, and because I had to search the luggage Cobby put in the carriage, I went with it.” He looked up at Deliah, then Del. “With you.”

Sangay studied Del’s face, then swallowed. In a small voice, he asked, “If I tell you all I know of the evil-sahib, will you let me go, and let me give to the sahib this scroll-holder so he will not kill my maataa?” He shifted, looked down, straightened the sleeve of the page’s coat he wore. “I know you don’t think he will be able to do that last, but how can you be sure? And”-dragging in a deep breath, Sangay looked up again, into Del’s face-“you see, I must be sure.”

Del looked down into the boy’s big eyes, read the tortured uncertainty that held him. Crouching down so his eyes were level with Sangay’s, he said, “We’re going to find a way to keep you safe, and also to ensure-make absolutely sure-that your maataa is safe, too. I don’t know at this stage exactly how we’ll do it, but we’ll make a good plan, and we’ll make sure.” Del searched Sangay’s dark eyes, then added, “I’m thinking that killing the evil-sahib would be a good first step. What do you think?”

Sangay’s eyes fired, finally came alive with a hint of the vitality that should be in any boy’s eyes. “Oh, yes, sahib. That sounds an excellent plan. That one-the evil-sahib-is definitely by way of needing killing.”

“Good. Then that’s what we’ll do.” Rising, Del looked at Deliah, then glanced down at Sangay. “So now we need to go downstairs and talk to the duke and his cousins and all the others, and together we’ll work out a good plan.”

Sangay actually smiled.

“Well, then.” Deliah looked at Del. “I think it’s time we told the others they can all stop searching.”

Everyone reassembled in the library, including Sligo and Cobby.

“It might help to have the rest of our staffs in, too,” Deliah suggested to Del. “Not the girls, but the others. They’ll need to understand.”

Del nodded, looked at Cobby.

Cobby saluted. “I’ll fetch them.”

As they resettled on the sofas, chaises and armchairs, two footmen briskly restoked the fire into a roaring blaze while maids bustled about, drawing the curtains. Then Mrs. Hull arrived, supervising a trolley laden with teacups, saucers, and plates piled with biscuits and pieces of cake-and a glass of milk for Sangay. Seated on a straightbacked chair beside Devil’s desk, he accepted it gratefully.

The rest of them accepted cups of tea from Honoria, and made their selections from the cakes and biscuits.

From her position on one chaise, Deliah noticed that Sangay’s feet didn’t even reach the floor, and that he sat with his knees pressed tight, head ducked, as if to quell knocking knees and make himself invisible. She hesitated, then leaned forward, picked up one of Mrs. Hull’s justifiably famous jam tarts, rose, and went to give it to Sangay.

He looked up at her, surprised, but then took it with a murmured word of thanks.

The tart was gone, every last crumb, before Deliah re sumed her seat. She thought it likely Sangay hadn’t eaten at all that day.

Then Cobby arrived, ushering in her senior staff and Del’s. Both Matara and Amaya stopped by Sangay’s chair. Straining her ears, Deliah heard them telling him to be a good boy and answer the sahibs’ questions directly-by which they meant truthfully-and all would be well.

As Deliah had suspected, Sangay was comforted by the other servants’ presence. Still…he remained very much alone on his chair by the desk.

Surrendering to impulse, she rose, set down her teacup and crossed to where another straightbacked chair stood against the wall. She started to lift it. Vane came to help. She directed him to set it next to Sangay’s chair.

Once he had, she thanked him with a smile, and sat, then reached out and patted Sangay’s thin hand. “All you have to do is what Matara and Amaya told you. Just answer the questions, and everything will be all right.”

Sangay met her eyes for a moment, then bobbed his head.

Devil chose that moment to call the gathering to order. “Now we’ve found our missing young man, let’s hear what he has to say.” He smiled at Sangay, perfectly innocuously, but Sangay no longer trusted the smiles of powerful men, and there was nothing wrong with his instincts. Deliah sensed the tension holding him increase.

But then Del came around the front of Devil’s desk. He relaxed against it and smiled at Sangay.

Sangay looked back. He didn’t smile, but his tension eased.

“Sangay, we need to tell these people where you came from, and all that you know of the evil-sahib, the man who bullied you into stealing the scroll-holder.” Del paused, then asked, “Incidentally, where is it?”

“In one of the bins in the big storeroom near to the back door, sahib. The bin nearest the back of the room.” Sangay started to slide off the chair, but Del waved at him to stay and looked at Sligo and Cobby instead.

“That’s the pantry,” Sligo said.

“I’ll fetch it.” Cobby headed for the door.

Del turned back to Sangay. “Meanwhile-”

With a series of simple questions, Del led Sangay through his story. He didn’t rush, didn’t let the ladies’ sympathetic murmurs and outraged exclamations distract him or the boy. Sangay’s answers came haltingly at first, but with each point he relaxed and grew more confident, until, when Del asked for a description of Sangay’s evil-sahib, an excellent word picture tripped off the boy’s tongue.

Del glanced at Devil, seated silently behind the desk. “Larkins.”

Devil frowned. “Why so sure?”

“The deeply tanned skin plus the close-cropped hair-not many Englishmen would fit that description.”

Devil conceded that with a nod.

Turning back to Sangay, Del saw the question in the boy’s face. “I think the evil-sahib’s name is Larkins.”

Sangay nodded solemnly, and they continued with their questions and answers.

When it came to the man’s instructions, and the place where Sangay was to meet him to hand over the scroll-holder, Devil and Demon, the two locals, were unequivocal in their interpretation.

“The big church with the big tower to the northwest can only be Ely Cathedral,” Devil said. “And Larkins was wise to warn Sangay not to attempt to get there across country but to stick to the roads. The fenland between here and there is treacherous.”

“So,” Del said, his gaze on Devil’s face, “Larkins definitely wouldn’t expect Sangay to arrive at the church until after the snow melts-at least enough to make travel by road possible?”

Both Devil and Demon nodded. “Clearly he knows,” Devil said, “that there’s no chance Sangay can make it to the church before at least the day after tomorrow.”

Del hid a smile. “Just so.” The little play had been for San gay’s benefit. He looked at the boy. “So we have time to make a very good plan.”

Sangay said nothing. He shifted, bit his lip. Looked down.

Deliah glanced at him, then looked up at Del.

Del crouched so his head was level with the boy’s. “Sangay?”

Sangay lifted his gaze only briefly to Del’s face. He spoke in a bare whisper. “I’m afraid, sahib-not for me, but for my maataa. What if the evil-sahib gets angry because I don’t come, and then he might think I have failed, and been caught, and so…”

Del welcomed the reassuring noises the ladies made; they seemed to soothe Sangay.

“Listen to me, Sangay. The evil-sahib is a servant for a much more evil man, but that much more evil man is here, in England, so he can’t give any orders to make anything happen to your maataa. Just think-as neither the evil-sahib nor his master knew it was you they were going to pick to be their thief, they can’t have already seized your maataa. You know how long it takes to get letters back to India-you’ve sailed back and forth many times yourself, haven’t you?”

Sangay nodded, but his eyes remained filled with uncertainty. If there was one thing Del was sure of, it was that they-his mission-would need Sangay as a part of any “very good plan,” so he persevered. “The master of the evil-sahib won’t have sent any word back to India yet-there’s been no need, because you’ve been doing what the evil-sahib wanted. And all those here”-he gestured to those around them-“and lots of others who are helping with this mission, are going to make sure that the evil-sahib’s master is too busy to worry about sending any message, no matter what happens with you.”

Del could see from Sangay’s dark eyes-feel from the intensity of Deliah’s regard-that he hadn’t yet succeeded in allaying all fear. “And Sangay-regardless of what happens, I’ll make sure your maataa is safe. I’m a colonel, you know that?” When Sangay nodded, Del continued, “So, being a colonel, I can send a message back to India, to the Governor-General, who is the man I’m working for, and ask him to make sure that your maataa is safe.” He looked into Sangay’s eyes. “All right?”

Sangay’s fear dissolved into abject relief. “Oh, yes, please, Colonel-sahib. That would be very very good.” He hesitated, then said, his dark eyes locked with Del’s, “If you will do that for me and my maataa, I will do anything I can to help you capture the evil-sahib and his very evil master.”

Feeling relieved himself, Del allowed his features to ease into a smile, and rose. “That’s good-very good. Now”-he glanced at the other servants standing by the wall-“these gentlemen and I will need to sit down and make our plan. While we do, you can go down with the others to the servants’ hall. You must be hungry.”

“Oh, yes, Colonel-sahib. I am famished.” Smiling, Sangay slipped off the chair. He turned, and Matara waved him on ahead of her. With a little bow to Del, then another to the company, Sangay hurried to join the other servants as, with welcoming smiles for him, they filed out.

When the door shut behind Sligo, Del looked at Devil. “It’s not hard to see what we should do.”

Steepling his long fingers, Devil inclined his head. “If the Black Cobra or one of his senior henchman is going to be waiting in Ely Cathedral for Sangay to bring him the scroll-holder, I suggest we give him what he’s expecting.” He smiled, all teeth. “And just a little bit more.”

Del smiled back, equally predatorially. “My thoughts exactly.”

There were nothing but assenting sounds from the other men. The ladies, too, led by Deliah and Honoria, were in a distinctly bloodthirsty mood.

Of necessity they had to allow for the weather, but ultimately their plan wasn’t that hard to formulate.

Execution, however, was another matter.