to justice.” He sank back against the cushions, his gaze fixing, unseeing, on the wall opposite. “That was in March. Within a few months, we’d identified the Black Cobra, but the evidence was circumstantial, and given our suspect, our case needed to be beyond question.”
“Who is the Black Cobra?”
He turned his head and regarded her. If he told her…but the cult had just demonstrated it didn’t care if she knew or not, and now she was with him, had been seen with him…“The Black Cobra is Roderick Ferrar.”
“Ferrar? Great heavens! I’ve met him, of course.”
“What did you think of him?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Not a nice man.”
“Indeed not. So we knew it was him, but had no way to prove it conclusively. We kept searching…then, while James was at Poona fetching you, he stumbled on a letter from the Black Cobra to one of the princelings. We’d found similar missives, but this one was different. It was signed by the Black Cobra, but sealed with Ferrar’s personal seal-the ring seal he wears on his little finger and can’t take off. Once you’d brought that letter to us, we had what we needed, and we’d already consulted others back in England, so we knew what we had to do.”
He saw her shut her lips on an eager prompt, but she’d guessed at least part of it. “We have to get that letter- the original-to the Duke of Wolverstone in England. Ferrar, of course, will do everything in his considerable power to stop us. Our instructions from Wolverstone-he’s the key planner in this-were to make four copies, and each bring one home, all traveling by widely different routes.”
“To make it harder for the Cobra to stop you.”
He nodded. “With James gone, there are four of us, now all on our way back to England. Only one of us has the original, but the Cobra doesn’t know which one, so he has to try to intercept each of us.”
Head tilting, she studied him. “Are you…” She paused, eyes on his, then went on, “I suspect you’re carrying one of the copies-a decoy, as it were.”
He was glad there was no one else in the room. He frowned. “How…?”
Her lips curved briefly. “On the wharf, you and your men wanted to chase the cultists-if you’d been carrying the original, you wouldn’t have risked engaging directly. You would defend, not attack-you’d do all you could not to draw attention to your party.”
He humphed. “Yes, well, from here on, we’ll be running. My orders are explicit-I’m to do all I can to distract the cultists between here and the Channel, do all I can to make them chase me, to make the Cobra throw as many of his forces in Europe into dealing with me.”
“No.” He couldn’t see any reason not to tell her. “It’s in one of those wooden scroll holders the Indians use to ferry documents.”
“Ah-I see.” She studied him a moment more. “Arnia’s carrying it.”
He stared at her. “It can’t be that obvious.”
She lifted one shoulder. “That’s who I’d leave it with-she’s from a warrior tribe and quite dangerous, I imagine, yet to the cultists she’ll be all but invisible. They’ll never think of her.”
He grunted, partly mollified. “Watson mentioned you’d decided to return home by the overland route-that you hoped to see the pyramids and other sights along the way.”
She shrugged again. “It seemed sensible to see more of the world while I can, and as I was already in Bombay…”
“Be that as it may, now that the cult have sighted you, and clearly would be happy to do you harm, it would be wiser, for safety’s sake, to combine our parties, at least until we reach Alexandria.” He paused, then went on, “I don’t believe Ferrar knew of our endeavor before we left Bombay, but he must have learned soon after, and has moved quickly to get cultists ahead of us-I believe they were waiting, watching the docks. They were already here.”
“Which means they might be ahead of us, potentially all the way home?”
He nodded. “If I were Ferrar, in the position he’s now in, that’s what I’d do, and he has men to spare. Which, of course, is the principal aim of my mission-reducing his forces.”
She nodded, her gaze abstracted. When she ventured nothing more, he prompted, “So, do you agree that it’s best to go onward together? To combine our parties in the interests of safety?”
Hers, especially.
To his relief, she smiled. “Yes, of course. I see no reason why we shouldn’t proceed together. I have my maid with me, and in the circumstances, my parents would approve.”
“Excellent.” He felt like a weight was slipping from his shoulders, yet he’d just taken on all responsibility for her safety. For her life. With the cultists at large, that wasn’t putting it too highly.
She continued to smile at him. “Besides, I became involved in this through helping poor Captain MacFarlane, and in light of his sacrifice I feel compelled to do whatever little I may to ensure his mission succeeds.”
The mention of James reminded him that, in some respects, he now stood in James’s shoes, taking on a responsibility that originally had been James’s-seeing Miss Ensworth safely home.
For a moment, he felt as if James’s ghost hovered in the room beside them-he could almost see his insouciant smile. James had died a hero. He’d been dashing and handsome, a few years older than Miss Ensworth-hardly surprising if, in the circumstances, she harbored some romantic feelings for his dead friend.
He wondered if that was what he saw in her eyes.
Somewhat abruptly, he stood. “I must check with the others about setting a watch-we can’t be too careful. I’ll see you at dinner.”
She inclined her head. “We’ll need to decide how best to journey on.”
“I’ll check what our options are tomorrow. I’ll tell you once I know.” He headed for the door.
“Excellent-we can discuss it in the morning.”
In the doorway, he looked back, then nodded. “In the morning.”
He strode down the corridor, a sense of relief returning. She’d agreed to travel on together. He’d be able to keep her safe. That was the critical point. The instant he’d seen the cultist making for her on the dock, he’d known he’d have to keep her with him, almost certainly all the way back to England, until he could leave her somewhere the cult couldn’t reach her.
The responsibility wasn’t one he could possibly shirk. Quite aside from all else, honor wouldn’t allow it. She’d become a target for the Black Cobra through helping with their mission, and he and his comrades, James included, owed her a huge debt. If she hadn’t played her part and brought the letter to Del, they would still be chasing cultists through the Indian countryside, and the Black Cobra would be continuing his reign of terror and destruction unabated.
Instead, thanks in large part to Emily Ensworth, the Black Cobra was now chasing them.
All they had to do was keep one step ahead of the fiend’s minions all the way back to England, and all would be well.
Two
