The three shifted on the bench, exchanging glances. Then the one in the middle-the leader-looked up. “What’s in it fer us if we tell you?”
It was Tony who answered. “It’s simple enough. Tell us where the tavern is, and after we keep your appointment for you, we’ll hand you over to the authorities for attempted thieving, rather than attempted kidnapping. In other words, your choice is between transportation, or hanging.”
The three exchanged another, longer glance, then the leader sighed. “All right. It’s the Blue Barrel in Cobalt Lane.”
Leaving the three louts in Gasthorpe’s custody, the four of them repaired to the library upstairs. A comfortable room on the first floor with large leather armchairs and numerous side tables, it was the perfect venue for discussing developments, and planning their next move.
“Tony and I will keep their appointment this evening,” Gervase said. “We’ll see who turns up, and if we’re lucky, follow them back to the Black Cobra’s lair.”
“I doubt it’ll be that simple,” Del said. He glanced at Deliah. “Ferrar clearly wants to use you as hostage for the letter.”
“Presumably,” Tony said, “he sees that as an easier option than making a direct try for it.”
“Which,” Gervase added, “tells us he’s engaged-that we have his attention-which, after all, is the crux of our mission.”
“That, and reducing his forces.” Del frowned. “So far, we’ve only seen locals-hirelings.”
“Perhaps,” Deliah said, “I should play the part of captive hostage this evening?” She looked at the three men. “I’ll be perfectly safe, because you’ll be my captors.”
For one instant, she glimpsed horror in all three pairs of eyes, then their expressions blanked.
“No.” Del’s tone was unequivocal, unassailable.
Deliah met his eyes, read his absolute opposition. Shrugged. “All right.” She didn’t harbor any ambition to visit an East End tavern, much less run the risk of meeting the Black Cobra; she’d only made the offer because she’d felt she should.
All three men looked at her, searched her face for a moment more, as if not quite certain of the sincerity of her agreement, then Del looked at Gervase. “So what should we do to fill the rest of the day?”
What could he do to ensure she was distracted? Just the thought of her sitting in some seedy tavern, a hostage waiting to be collected by the Black Cobra, had shaken him-in a way he wasn’t accustomed to being shaken. He’d never felt possessive about any other woman, let alone a lady, let alone a lady like her. If given the choice, he would have elected to go with Gervase and Tony to the tavern that night, but now…he didn’t dare leave her to her own devices. Who knew what she might take it into her head to do? All in the name of being helpful, of course.
Despite his mission being to flush out the Black Cobra, he knew beyond question that his place was with her. Guarding against any possible threat to her.
Tony and Gervase seemed to be thinking along similar lines. In short order, between them they decided on an afternoon of excursions that might, or might not, draw out the cult’s forces, but would definitely occupy Deliah’s time.
December 13
City of London
“Is that it?” Deliah peered out of the hackney at a long stone building with an impressive façade of Doric pillars fronting Leadenhall Street. The pillars were crowned by a pediment with numerous carved figures.
“East India House,” Del confirmed. “The London headquarters of the Honorable East India Company.”
“They take themselves very seriously, don’t they?”
“Indeed. Wait until you see inside. I’ve heard the new skylight is quite something.”
After letting Gasthorpe feed them luncheon in the dining room of the club, they’d hailed two hackneys and set out for the city. Del and Deliah were in the first carriage, while Tony and Gervase followed in the second. While Del and Deliah went inside, Tony and Gervase would watch from the street to see if any likely-looking characters took an interest.
Their hackney halted before the steps leading up between the pillars. Del descended, after one glance around handed Deliah down, then paid off the jarvey. He turned to find Deliah, head back, staring up at the frieze above the pillars.
“Is that Britannia? And Tritons on sea horses?”
“As you remarked, the company considers itself an august institution.” Taking her arm, he led her up the steps and through the massive doors, which attentive doormen in the uniforms of sepoy regiments leapt to hold wide.
Inside, massive braziers glowed, taking the chill from the marble walls and floors. Deliah halted, staring around. “The word that springs to mind is opulent.”
“And this is merely the foyer.” He steered her on through a massive archway into a huge chamber that rose fully three stories high. It was lit by a large, domed skylight. Niches on the wall held marble statues; glass-fronted cabinets displayed jeweled Indian artifacts, and gold and silver plate.
Halting, Deliah looked around. “Simple words fail me. I take it they wanted everyone to realize how profitable trade with India is?”
“I suspect that was a large part of the motivation.” Del glanced around, looking for familiar faces. “This is the Grand Court Room. We’re going to visit the main rooms, see who’s here, chat with some.” He looked at her. “It would help if you would smile and hang on my arm. And, if possible, remain silent.”
Deliah arched her brows, but twined her arm in his and endeavored to keep a light, airy smile on her face.
They started promenading. There were many others about, and while some hurried past with papers in their hands, or were deep in serious discussions, most seemed to be socializing-discussing business, perhaps, but without any specific intent.
Some among the gathering-mostly officers in the uniforms of various regiments, but others in civilian attire-recognized Del. All evinced surprise as they shook his hand. “What brings you home?” was the common first question.
One, Deliah noted, he didn’t actually answer. Instead, he spoke of when he’d arrived, and asked after others who might be there that day. When a few in uniform asked after his colleagues, he admitted some others were also expected home any day.
It didn’t take long for Deliah to realize that, with her hanging as directed, sweetly smiling on his arm, those who spoke with them leapt to the obvious conclusion.
When they moved on through an archway into the next room, she leaned close and murmured, “You’re deliberately letting people imagine that you came home to marry me.”
He glanced at her, met her eyes. “It’s easier than telling the truth.”
She mulled over that for a moment, then asked, “Why? Why not say you’re here to lay evidence against the Black Cobra? There’s no reason to keep it secret, is there? The Black Cobra already knows.”
“True. But my mission is to draw the cultists out, not to encourage a horde of well-meaning others to become involved. Many of those here know of the Black Cobra’s villainy and would be happy to assist in bringing him down. Yet playing this sort of game is the same as cooking-having too many cooks doesn’t help.”
Another gentleman approached to speak with Del. Deliah continued to smile while she pondered his words.
The room they were now in, the New Sale Room, was decorated with pilasters and paintings of scenes of Indian commerce. Curious, she let her eyes feast, while her mind turned over their situation.
They continued to stroll, and the New Sale Room gave way to the Old Sale Room, with statues of various dignitaries. She made out Lord Clive and Sir Eyre Coote among them. Although she listened to Del’s exchanges, they added little to what she already knew of him, other than establishing that he was held in high esteem, by the miltary men especially, but by the civilians, too.