“Shall I alert my personal physician?” Lady Epperley sat regally in her usual spot, one hand ruffling through Albemarle’s fur.
Henrietta stared at the cat. How on earth? Last she had seen of the beast, one of their abductors had kicked her into a corner. Now she was napping as if she hadn’t a care in the world.
Beside her, Satya stepped forward. “Your pardon, memsahib.” He inclined his head to Lady Epperley. “I shall see to him.”
“You might see to Cecelia, as well,” Henrietta added. “She suffered a blow to the head.” Henrietta looked to Mrs. Sanford for reassurance. “She is all right, I hope?”
“She is resting in her chamber.” Mrs. Sanford narrowed her eyes on Satya. “But I’m not sure it’s entirely proper for someone of this man’s status to treat her. Lady Epperley’s doctor should do nicely.”
Satya remained at silent attention, his gaze focused on the wall at the back of the room, rather like a yeoman standing guard at the Tower of London.
Lips pinched, Lady Epperley inspected Satya through her lorgnette. “You certainly have a talent for turning up in the right place at the right time.”
“I’m not so sure,” Mrs. Sanford said from her place on the sofa. She drew her fingers through Helena’s hair. “I was given to believe this man was to keep watch over the girls during the night, and he was not at his post this morning. I should like an explanation as to why.”
Satya bowed full-on, the movement as close as he could come to prostrating himself without actually landing on his face. “This was entirely my shortcoming. I have no excuse. I only pray sahib will be merciful.”
Henrietta bit back a protest. Any punishment Alexander might choose to mete out would certainly be more merciful than Nilmani’s treatment of the man. She had not forgotten Satya might have died at the Raja’s hands if not for Alexander.
“I’m sure your reasons are mitigated by the fact that you’ve just saved Alexander’s life.” Hers, too, but it wasn’t necessary to point that out.
“And mine,” Tilly put in. “Them beggars was like t’ starve me after I showed ’em that cave. Not that they gave me a choice or anyt’in’.”
Lady Epperley turned her attention to the shopkeeper, inspecting him from the top of his grizzled head to the toes of the worn boots that reached to his thighs, pausing at the cutlass he still held in his fist. “Have we been introduced?”
“Wouldn’t t’ink so, ma’am. I live down t’ th’ village.”
“Perhaps we’d better have the story from the beginning.” Mrs. Sanford was still watching Satya closely, as if she didn’t quite trust him not to bolt.
“Yes,” agreed Lady Epperley. “How did you know where to find the girls? They said something about being taken to a cave off the beach.”
“That were my spot, ma’am,” Tilly said, “and beggin’ yer pardon.”
“Your spot.”
“It were useful a time or two, but I swear I never knew it connected t’ yer house.”
“But Satya discovered the passage somehow,” Henrietta said. He’d led them back up that way through a twisting gallery to a door that opened into one of the pantries.
“That I did. When sahib informed me you suspected someone in your room, he asked me to search out a way they might have come in without anyone knowing.”
“But how did you find such a thing when you were supposed to be watching the girls?” asked Lady Epperley.
“Simple, memsahib. When I had a chance, I followed the cat.”
“I want to know what you were saying to the men during the fight.” Henrietta moved to the settee and took a seat beside her employer. Their captors were currently shackled down in the cave until a magistrate could be summoned, although it might take a few days for anyone to get around to that.
Satya shrugged, the move nearly out of place in someone so stoic. “Taunts, mainly.”
“They acted as if they knew you.” She gestured for Satya to sit, but he remained where he was.
“Those men are not in Nilmani’s employ.”
Henrietta raised her brows. “That is not what they claimed.”
“They lied. They were Peshwa.” He spat the name as if it left a bad taste in his mouth.
“Peshwa?” echoed Lady Epperley. “Am I to know what that refers to?”
“They back the Maratha.”
Lady Epperley blinked from behind her lorgnette. “Maratha, Peshwa. And you expect me to make any sense of this?”
Satya placed his hands behind his back, rather like a schoolboy repeating his lessons. “The Maratha had an empire in the western part of India. Your soldiers defeated them a few years ago, but this business started before that war. Envoys of the Peshwa wanted Nilmani to back their side of the conflict, but he refused.”
Henrietta shook her head. “What does all this have to do with his ruby?”
Satya’s expression remained fixed. “Ah, yes, his ruby.”
“They claimed they were after his ruby.” Henrietta rubbed the red marks on her wrists where her bonds had bitten into the skin. “It’s some kind of symbol of his power, and it was stolen. They were supposed to return it to him.”
“No one has stolen his ruby. Of this I can assure you. He keeps it under heavy guard. He would never let it out of his palace.”
“Perhaps you’d better retrieve that box and show us what’s in it,” Henrietta said. “That is, if you know the trick to opening it. The main compartment looks empty, but there’s still something in there. You can hear the rattle.”
Satya produced the jewel case from under his arm. “I already retrieved it from the cave floor.” Several deft movements of his fingers later, the bottom of the box dropped open. A stone fell into his hand. He held it up.
Henrietta gasped. Lady Epperley leaned forward to peer at the gem. It was a ruby, all right, large as a quail’s egg, flat cut, and oval in shape. Its facets caught the light from the window and cast red splotches on the nearby walls.
Francesca clapped her hands. “Oh, how pretty. It looks like a raspberry.”
Lady Epperley blinked from behind her lorgnette. “If those men did not come from this Nilmani fellow, how were they planning on getting this out of its case?”
“I suppose they might have smashed the box,” Henrietta said. “But—”
“This is not Nilmani’s ruby.” Using only his thumb and forefinger, Satya held the gem away from him. “This stone is of inferior quality. If you look closely, you can see the flaw. Nilmani would never have kept this near him. Such a poor stone draws bad luck and disease. You have seen that for yourself with all the deaths and ill chance that have followed us.”
Hesitantly, Henrietta took it. Even her untrained eye picked up the dark line that cut through the center. “Still, a gem this large has to be worth something,” she muttered almost to herself.
Tilly leaned over her hand and eyed the ruby with interest. “I’d give ye a couple pounds fer it, but it ain’t worth chasin’ someone across two oceans.”
“And certainly not worth killing anyone over,” she agreed, although if Tilly were willing to offer for it, she suspected it was worth a great deal more than a few pounds. “So why did they do it? And why would Alexander’s father-in-law have it in the first place?”
“I am sure they believed it was the true ruby.” Arranging his expression into fierce lines, Satya crossed his arms and widened his stance. Henrietta could imagine him wielding Tilly’s cutlass to lethal effect. “Foster did.”
“Alexander’s father-in-law? You mean he stole it? But why? If the true ruby was kept under heavy guard, why would he make that mistake?”
“Foster was involved in more than the East India Company. He was working for your Foreign Office, as well. Foster secured an introduction to Nilmani to ensure the Raja wouldn’t join the Peshwa faction against the British.”
“Then why steal the ruby?” Henrietta shook her head. “Why make an enemy out of a man you want to win over to your side?”
“It was a test of Foster’s honor. Nilmani put temptation in Foster’s path, and he failed.”
The pieces were all falling together in Henrietta’s mind. “And then the Peshwa somehow got word that Foster had the true jewel, and came after him.”
Satya nodded, and Henrietta studied him. For a man who was supposedly a tutor, he seemed to know a great deal about Nilmani’s doings.
“Where do you come into all of this?” Henrietta asked. “Nilmani placed you as well, didn’t he? So you could keep an eye on things. You were certainly interested in that box when we found it. How do we not know we’re in danger from you, as well?” She glanced at Lady Epperley. “Perhaps you should summon your footmen to subdue him and turn him over to the Foreign Office along with the two men in the cave.”
Satya held up his hands. “No, memsahib. The story I told you of owing a life debt to sahib is perfectly true. Nilmani sent me to keep watch on Foster and his doings, yes, but it was part of my punishment. I might find a way to restore my honor in his eyes, but the Peshwa could just as easily have killed me along with Foster and his family. None of you were ever in danger from me. Sahib will vouch for me.”
“My son is apparently insensible at the moment,” Mrs. Sanford said. “He’s in no condition to vouch for anybody.”
Satya kept his dark gaze trained on Henrietta. “And I might remind you, humbly, that I did save you just now.”
That much was true enough for Henrietta to push past her mistrust of the man. Not only that, he’d risked his life to save Alexander’s girls back in India. “Perhaps you should see to his injuries. You have good reason now to make certain he recovers.”
And while Alexander once again regained his strength, he would be laid up quite a while. As long as he was insensible, though, Henrietta had time enough to write her resignation. With Mrs. Sanford and Cecelia on hand, she no longer needed to watch the girls, nor did Lady Epperley need a companion. Leaving this job was a blow to Henrietta’s bid for independence, yet she saw no other solution but to return to London.
Spending time here, becoming more attached to Alexander’s daughters … remaining in such painful proximity to Alexander himself … facing the possibility of another proposal that she would most certainly turn down … reliving in her memory their night of passion together … It was all she’d ever have of him, but that thought was far easier to face somewhere other than Cornwall.
Nothing for it but to go. Perhaps her brother would take her on as a governess.
In his history classes, Alexander had once learned how his forebears executed wrongdoers through pressing them beneath slabs of rock. Apparently society had not yet evolved beyond such barbarism, for he came back to himself staring at the ceiling of his bedchamber with the distinct impression a boulder lay on his chest. Drawing breath was a burden, and his head felt as if it were stuffed with cotton wool, a sure sign someone had administered laudanum. A pity the opiate hadn’t taken effect. Or was he really so damaged the drug did him no good?
But … hadn’t he been through this already? The shipwreck, the waves, the cold water. No. The cave. The crack of a pistol.
Henrietta.
He tried to call out her name, but the word emerged on a croak.
“Sahib?” The scent of incense accompanied the response.
Good God, Satya. Alexander wanted to ask the man at least a hundred questions, starting with Henrietta, moving along to his daughters, and ending on where the devil he had disappeared to. But his throat would emit nothing beyond a groan.
“Do not try to speak. I have wrapped your ribs again.”
Good man. “But …” There, he’d got that much out.
“Your girls are safe in the house.” Satya’s words calmed one worry, but not the most pressing.
“Hen—”
“Also safe and in the house.”
“How …”
In a voice he might have used to explain to a recalcitrant boy for the hundredth time why he couldn’t have another sweet, Satya filled Alexander in on the situation. As he listened, horror, shock, and disbelief mingled in his gut.
“You … Nilmani.”
“Do not try to speak,” Satya admonished. “Yes, I remained in Nilmani’s employ when I came to you.”
“But …” God almighty, his daughters. He’d placed them in the man’s care.
“You will have to accept that none of you were in danger from me. Nilmani wanted information only. As a condition of my survival, I gave him that. And I watched.”
“But you … not at post.” As the effects of the laudanum wore off, his head was clearing, but increased pain accompanied lucidity, along with a crushing sense of being unable to draw sufficient breath to say even that little.
Satya closed his lips, his eyes shifting to the side and down in an uncharacteristic display of shame. “Honor forces me to now confess why I failed my duty,” he said. “I can only hope sahib sees fit to show mercy.”
That bloody subservient attitude again, and after the man had just explained the real reason he’d acted as Alexander’s servant. “Spy … No honor.”
“Foster was a spy.” Good Lord, that tone was the most defiance Alexander had ever heard from Satya. “It was part of my job to make certain you were not also working for your government.”
“Not … true. You … know.”
“I do, and I would redeem myself in the eyes of a man I respect. Temptation placed itself in my path, and I judged best to remove myself from its presence.”
“Temptation?” he repeated, incredulous. The only sort of temptation he could imagine was in the form of …
“A woman.”
Good Lord, had one of the maids developed a taste for the exotic? Alexander couldn’t pull in enough air to voice the question. “Who?” was the best he could manage.
“I prefer not to say.”
Alexander closed his eyes and gathered his strength. “Do not protect.” He knew Satya well enough to conclude the man would never have instigated any flirtation. “Maids can be turned out.”
Lord, he hadn’t even voiced his complete thought, but just that much hurt badly enough. Whoever the offender was, Alexander would see her dismissed without a character.
“She was not a maid.”
Damn the man. “Who?” Although suspicion gnawed at his gut. Not a maid, certainly not his mother or his aunt. Never Henrietta. But that only left one possibility—and his sister had lied to him about Satya’s whereabouts.
“It is not important.” His immovable expression was back, the one that reminded Alexander of a rock in the middle of a raging stream. “What is important is that I was not at my post, and I will accept whatever punishment you offer.”
If he had the breath, he’d have protested, both the lack of information and the idea of a punishment, for Satya’s notion of such things involved the removal of limbs if not one’s head. At any rate, a knock on the door put an end to the conversation.
“Who?” Alexander began, but his voice wasn’t nearly loud enough to penetrate the solid oak plank.
Satya answered. “I’m afraid sahib is indisposed.”
“Nonsense.” Good Lord, it was his aunt. Naturally, she’d be all too happy to take advantage of the situation. While he lay here, unable to speak more than a few words at a time, she could berate him all she liked. “He will see me, certainly, and his children are worried silly. Albemarle cannot abide their badgering any longer.”
He wasn’t convinced the girls ought to see him in such a state, but the chorus of “Please” that drifted in from the corridor shut off any protest. He nodded to Satya, who stepped aside and admitted Lady Epperley, his mother, and his daughters. Where was Henrietta? He tamped down a surge of disappointment. Satya had assured him she was unharmed, but he’d still have liked to see the evidence for himself.
“Papa!” Francesca looked ready to pounce onto his bed.
Thankfully, his mother held the girl back. “I don’t think we ought to tire your papa out,” s
he said with her usual calm, despite the glimmer of worry apparent in her gaze. “You’re here to see with your own eyes that he’ll mend eventually, and then we must let him rest.”
Helena approached more cautiously and laid her hand on the mattress. He curled his fingers about hers and squeezed. “Can’t say much.”
“Does it hurt?” she asked.
He nodded.
“Your papa’s broken his ribs,” his mother pointed out. “Satya will have bound them tightly. I imagine it pains him to breathe.”
“But you’ll be all right, won’t you?”
He nodded again. “A week.” Perhaps more, since this was the second time he’d done a job on the same bones in the space of several days.
Helena watched him carefully, looking for a possible catch.
“Promise,” he croaked. “Be well soon enough.” Now he’d have to live up to that promise, if she was ever going to trust him. His work was cut out for him there, but he hoped she’d remember the hug he’d given her in the cave, and later, when he could speak properly, he could tell her he’d been just as desperate to find her as her sister.
Francesca bounced on the balls of her feet. “Lady Epperley says we’re to have a new mama.”
He pinned his gaze on his aunt, hoping to skewer her the way his daughter’s statement had just stabbed him. “What?”
“Oh, come now.” His aunt waved a bony hand. “It only stands to reason. These girls will be in want of a mother, and now that you’ve got that ruby, it might help you in recovering some of what you’ve lost in the shipwreck. Remember, I’ve already procured the special license for you.”
“Don’t think …” Damn it all, if only he could speak his mind. Leave it to his aunt to broach such a topic when he could not respond properly.
“It is simply a matter of time, and you know, you still might right an old wrong while you’re at it.” The old girl was being oddly cagey about a topic she’d already spelled out for him in detail.
He didn’t trust her for a moment. Despite the pain, he shook his head. “Out.”
“Oh, please, Papa,” Francesca added. “Please can’t Henrietta be our new mama?” Helena, too, watched him with something he hadn’t seen glowing in her eyes in ages—hope. How he wished he could give it to her. How he wished he could retain some for himself.
What a Lady Craves Page 27
