“I take it you saw no potential lookouts during the journey?” Del asked.
Gervase grimaced. “We saw no Indians, or even tanned Englishmen. We did, however, see numerous shifty characters watching the carriages roll by, but there was no way of telling those reporting to the Black Cobra from the others. No one worth following.”
The three men fell silent.
Deliah eyed each face, then prompted, “So what are our plans?” When no one rushed to speak, she suggested, “Perhaps you might reiterate what you wish to achieve over our sojourn in town?”
“We want,” Del said, “to leave the Black Cobra guessing whether or not I’m carrying the original or a copy of the evidence. If he learns I’ve got a copy, he’ll lose interest in me and swing his focus onto the other three. We don’t want to give him that option. The way I interpreted Wolverstone’s plan, part of the intent was to force the Black Cobra to fight on four different fronts, either simultaneously or at the very least in rapid succession.”
Gervase nodded. “That’s correct-weaken him by forcing him to spread his troops thin.”
“So,” Del continued, his gaze on the table, “we keep the scroll-holder safe-that’s taken care of, and given Grillon’s security, it’s as protected as we can make it. We don’t need to do anything more on that front, so that’s our defensive aspect covered. As for the rest, we should do what we can to assess the strength of the Black Cobra’s forces-has he imported many cultists into the country, as we assumed he would, or has he got just a handful, and that’s why he’s hiring locals? Is he using locals because it’s easier, or because he has no choice?”
He glanced at Tony and Gervase. “The Black Cobra’s modus operandi is to smother opposition-he usually relies on numerical advantage and expendable troops to win any encounter. The cult preaches that death in the service of the Black Cobra brings glory. Strategically, he’s accustomed to attacking with an excess of men. It would help-a lot-to know if he has a large number here, held in reserve to date, or if lack of numbers will force him to play the game more craftily.”
Tony nodded. “So we need to draw him, or at least his forces, out. We need to metaphorically wave the standard and dare him to come and take it-we need to taunt and tempt, just as we would on a battlefield.”
“Which,” Gervase said, “fits with Royce’s orders to spend some time making noise in town, attracting, then fixing, the enemy’s attention, drawing as much down on our heads as we can handle before we go haring north to Somersham Place, with any luck drawing a goodly number of cultists with us, into an ambush there.” He shrugged. “Standard procedure, all in all.”
They spent some time discussing options as to what might serve as “waving the standard.”
“I should at some point call at East India House,” Del said, “if nothing else to give Ferrar a sleepless night-he’ll at least feel forced to check that I haven’t shown anyone there the letter.”
“You could add in visits to Whitehall and to Guards’ Headquarters.” Tony reached for the now half empty bottle of arrack. “The latter is somewhere he might find difficult to penetrate.”
Deliah shifted in her chair. She could envision what they were suggesting and could see a potential problem, but she didn’t want to point it out. Better they saw it themselves.
Gervase frowned. “We can do all that, but I fear it’s all going to look too guarded. Too obvious. He’ll watch, but he won’t come into the open.”
Precisely. Deliah cleared her throat. “If I might suggest…the one element in your plan that the Black Cobra couldn’t have anticipated is me.” She glanced at Del. “Not even you knew I would be traveling with you. But he now knows I’m with you, and that you are, for some reason unknown to him, acting as my escort. If we-you and I-start going about town on the sorts of excursions a provincial lady-a flighty, demanding provincial lady-would be expected to go on, he’ll assume those excursions are driven by me, not you, that they’re about what I want to do, not about you trying to draw him out.
“And just think.” Seeing the sudden interest in their eyes, she let her own mounting enthusiasm show. “We can go for walks in the parks, shopping in Bond Street and Bruton Street, visiting the museum-and at this time of year fashionable London is almost deserted. He’s unlikely to mount an attack in Whitehall, or outside the Guards, but outside a dressmaker’s shop in Bruton Street? In the park as the shadows are lengthening? There’s no reason for him to think such excursions are traps, not if you’re escorting me.”
Gervase slowly nodded. “That could work.”
Del thought it might, too, but felt distinctly reluctant. It hadn’t escaped him that, no matter her innocent I’m-merely-being-helpful attitude, Deliah had inserted herself into the heart of the action.
More, she’d made the worthiness of the excursions dependent on her.
Tony, too, waxed enthusiastic. “You could break up the fashionable excursions with those places Del mentioned-all places the Black Cobra would expect him to go.” He paused, then nodded. “That should work-we have to make the enemy believe he has a chance of success if we want him to risk his men.”
Del listened while the others discussed fashionable excursions with the potential to tempt an attack. He had to agree with their strategic assessment; Deliah’s presence would lure the cultists into discounting any chance of a trap. And although he inwardly disapproved of her exposure to potential harm, he would be beside her, and Tony and Gervase would be close, ready to come to their aid.
Still…
It was late, and they’d been traveling. With a decent list of excursions to mull over, they agreed to make their final arrangements in the morning, and rose to go to their rooms.
Tony and Gervase made their goodnights and strolled out. Del followed them to the suite’s door, Deliah beside him.
He stepped into the corridor, then paused and glanced back at her.
She raised her brows. “What?”
He hesitated, then said, “Just because I’ve agreed to your involvement doesn’t mean I’m in any way thrilled at the notion of you being exposed to danger, much less to the machinations of the Black Cobra.”
She returned his regard levelly. “You’ll be every bit as exposed to the same danger. And when all is said and done, you’re not that much harder to kill than I am.”
He frowned. Before he could correct her, she started to shut the door.
“Good night, Del.”
Her soft words reached him, then he was left staring at the closed door.
December 12
Shrewton House, London
The drawing room of Shrewton House in Grosvenor Square was exactly as Alex had imagined it. Of course, the family was presently not in residence, and all the furniture was shrouded in holland covers, yet even in the shadowed gloom with the chandeliers unlit, the proportions of the room, the elegant appointments, were evident.
Alex sank onto the chaise Roderick had uncovered, and watched him pacing before his ancestral hearth. More correctly, their ancestral hearth-they could all lay claim to it. Their servants had set a fire blazing, driving the frigid chill from the air.
Roderick grimaced. “Grillon’s might be unsuitable for a direct attack, but at least we can keep watch on them there easily enough.”
“And”-Daniel subsided, languidly elegant, into a still shrouded armchair-“I seriously doubt Delborough is naïve enough to imagine he can advance his cause by showing the letter around East India House, or even Whitehall.” Daniel looked at Roderick. “He knows your connections.”
“Regardless,” Roderick returned, “we’ll watch.”
“Indeed.” Unshakably calm, Alex asked, “Meanwhile, what is Larkins doing about retrieving Delborough’s letter?”