The Untamed Bride

Regardless, she felt perfectly safe. The three gentlemen were more than a counter to the louts; the menace that rolled off their elegant selves was of an infinitely more lethal variety.

And the louts knew it.

That the pecking order was established and recognized was immediately made clear. When Del asked who had hired them, the louts answered readily.

“Geezer came to our tavern-it’s in the East End. Said he were looking for men to grab a woman as was giving him trouble. He’d make it worth our while. All we had to do was grab her, and bring her to him tonight, and we’d get ten sovereigns.”

“Ten sovereigns?” Deliah was incensed. “That’s insulting!”

Del sent her a quelling look.

“How did you know which lady to grab?” Gervase asked.

The lout in the middle looked at Deliah. “He said she were tall, with dark red hair, a real looker-and she was staying at Grillon’s.”

Deliah crossed her arms. “What, exactly, were you supposed to do with me after you seized me?”

“He made it sound easy.” The lout on the left sniffed. “Didn’t say nuffin ’bout you havin’ guards. All we had to do was snatch you off the street, and being careful not to damage the goods, bring you to the tavern tonight. He said to sit in a corner, an’ keep you quiet ’til he arrived.”

Deliah was tempted to ask how they’d thought to keep her quiet.

“Describe this man,” Del said.

The louts grimaced, looked at each other. Then the one in the middle shrugged. “Nothing special about him. Could be anyone.”

“Not helpful,” Tony murmured, and the louts paled.

“How tall was he?” Deliah asked.

The louts looked at her. “Maybe an inch or so taller’n you, miss. Ma’am.” The middle lout glanced at Del. “Not so tall as the gentl’man.”

Deliah nodded. “What about his clothes?”

The lout grimaced. “Middling. Not one thing nor another.”

“He wasn’t a toff, that’s certain,” one of the others put in.

“Nay-he weren’ even a gentl’man, though he spoke well enough.”

“Describe the man’s hair,” Deliah said. “What color, and how was it cut?”

The louts looked at her, then one answered, “Brown hair, longish.”

Deliah glanced at Del. “Not the man in Southampton.”

“Nor the two at Windlesham.” Del looked at the ruffians. “Where’s this tavern?”

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 facade 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