"Are...are you sure this is all right?" Hesitantly, Adaira glanced down at Berty. "Originally, this was supposed to be my job!"
"Of course, it is." Giving her a pat on the back, Lilly snatched the little fellow from her arms.
"But...but you even paid me for it! And now I'll be doing nothing?"
"Yes!" A broad grin spread across the other woman's face. "Amazing, isn't it? You'll be the first to receive a salary from Mr Rikkard Ambrose for doing sod-all."
Adaira felt a certain muscle in her face twitch. She was starting to understand why that always happened to her brother around Lilly. "That is not the point!"
"I know." Her expression softened, and she glanced down at her son in her arms. "Trust me, I know. But would you be willing to stay here and leave Captain Carter to us?"
Adaira opened her mouth to say that yes, of course she would—and the words stuck in her throat.
Lilly smiled. There was no blame in the smile. Not even a hint of it. "That's what I thought. Don't worry. It's all right."
"I disagree," came a cool voice from behind her. "I would very much like to hear more about that supposed salary."
"Don't worry. I'll tell you all about it once we're on our way." And with a last wink at her husband, she turned towards the old woman in the headscarf who was watching the whole scene from a few yards away. Stepping forward, she tentatively held out the baby in her arms. "You don't mind doing this, do you? Taking care of him, I mean."
Adaira watched the scene with trepidation. If the old lady gave a wrong answer, she would be stuck here. Adaira knew that, with her brother watching over her like a hawk, it was already very lucky to be able to come this far. It was unrealistic, even foolish, to want to go farther. But...
Better a fool than a coward.
She was going to go. And she was going to get her man come hell or high water!
Well...if she wasn't stuck on babysitting duty, that is.
Anxiously, she eyed Lilly as she held out her child to the old lady who would decide what happened next.
***
Fully aware of Adaira's anxious gaze boring into my back, I stepped towards Granny Aatifa with some hesitation. It wasn't that I had any hesitation about leaving Berty with her. Karim was one of the most trustworthy and reliable people I had ever met, and his mother was basically a female version of him, just smaller, fiercer, and with motherly instincts the size of Mount Everest. But was she really fine with this? After having to bring up around a dozen children, I didn't think I would be eager to look after another.
"You really don't mind?" Tentatively, I gestured at Berty in my arms, who was still happily playing with the golden medallion. Luckily, the thing was far too big for him to try and swallow, because he had steadfastly refused to let go of it. "If you can't do it, then—"
"Girl," Granny Aatifa cut me off mercilessly, "don't worry about it. If there's one thing in the world I'm good at, it's looking after children." She cast a glance at Karim. "Even if they're unappreciative brats who don't visit their mother for years." Then she turned back to me, completely ignoring her son's grumbled protests. "So, you go with peace of mind, and take that Adaira girl, too. Help her find her man. It's clear she won't stay here, no matter how much her brother wants her to." She glanced at Karim again. "At least someone will be getting married soon and not disappoint their mother anymore."
"Thank you!" Stepping forward, I gave the old woman a gentle, one-armed hug. "Thank you so much!"
"It's no trouble. Besides..." Smirking, the old lady nodded towards Adaira, who was pacing up and down not far away. "I have a feeling that the governess you hired will have things other than her job on her mind."
"You might be right about that. So...please, take good care of him." Squaring my shoulders, I stepped forward and stretched out my arms, offering Berty. With a gentleness I would never have expected of the crusty old woman, she took my little treasure and held him close. Leaning over him, I gently touched his face.
"You be good for Granny Aatifa, you hear me?"
"Wawah?" Berty gave me a questioning look, as if to say, "Good? What does that word mean?"
A corner of my mouth twitched. "All right. You be adequate. How's that?"
"Wah!"
"Eat your meals without making too much of a fuss, and remember to take your nap on time. You know how restless you get at night if you don't rest after lunch."
"Wah...?" He looked confused, as if the concept of rest was utterly foreign to him. That reminded me so much of his father it made my heart ache.
"Don't be too naughty, and don't make too much trouble for the nice grandma taking care of you. I...I'll be back as soon as I can." I sniffed. "I...I'm just going on a little holiday, all right? Mum will be sure to bring you back something pretty and shiny. You stay here and be good, and I'll be back before you know it, I promise."
With a last sniff and a pleading look at Aatifa, I turned away—only to be stopped by a tiny hand clutching one of my fingers.
"Mama!"
I froze.
Was that...?
Did he really just...?
Slowly, very slowly, I turned back around to stare at Berty. He was staring right back at me, his painfully familiar sea-coloured eyes so innocent and vulnerable. Right then and there, I wished for nothing so much as to snatch him back and not let go for the next ten thousand years. Well, maybe there was one thing I wanted even more: hear him say that word again.
Suddenly, I felt a presence behind me, and a strong, familiar arm wrapped around my shoulders from behind. Even if he didn't say anything, I knew who was there. There was only one person who would want to share this moment with me. But he didn't say anything to break the spell I was under. He just stood there, sharing the wonderful warmth I was feeling in silence. I had never really appreciated how amazing that silence of his could be.
But, unfortunately, the moment couldn't last forever. A seagull cried out in the distance, breaking the spell I'd been under. Trying to convey what he would not understand through words, I gazed straight into his eyes.
"I will be back," I promised, my voice as fierce as fire and as firm as bedrock. Leaning forward, I pressed a gentle kiss onto his forehead. "You wait for me. Mum will be back in no time."
Once more, I felt a gentle squeeze on my finger. "Mama!"
Dragging in a deep breath, I gave a silent squeeze back, then looked up at the old lady I had placed my hopes on.
"Take good care of him."
It was not a request.
The old woman nodded sombrely. "I swear."
"Thank you."
Then it was my husband's turn. One of his hands touched Berty's cheek with incredible gentleness. When he looked up, his eyes were as cold as the heart as the arctic, and he pinned the old lady to the spot with his gaze.
"Not good care. Perfect care. Understood?"
"Well, well, will you look at that..." One corner of Granny Aatifa's mouth curled up. "Maybe you aren't such a devil, after all."
"Indeed."
Then he whirled around and marched away. Adaira raced after him, eager to get on the ship. I stayed for a moment longer, checking and double-checking that the old lady had everything she needed to care for Berty. Then, with a last whispered goodbye to the most precious thing in my world, I turned around and marched towards where Adaira and my husband were waiting. And if there was slight moisture at the corner of my eye, it was probably because it had started to rain.
"Mrs Ambrose." My husband greeted me with a curt nod.
"Mr Ambrose." I returned it, eternally glad for his stony visage. If, right then and there, he had shown any emotion, the dam within me would have broken, and I would have broken down along with it.
"You have something at the corner of your eye, Mrs Ambrose."
"It's just the rain."
Wordlessly, my dear husband pointed at the bright blue sky, completely free of any clouds. I opened my mouth to respond—only, no words came. Unable to help myself, I glanced back towards Berty, then, using all the willpower I had, turned back to my husband.
"Don't worry." His cold eyes boring into mine, he stepped forward. "You know how I feel about wasted time, don't you?"
I sniffed. "Y-yes?"
"So what does that mean for our trip to India?"
One corner of my mouth lifted slightly. "That we will be back in no time."
"Indeed." A strong arm slid around my shoulder, holding me close. And, together, we strode down the beach towards the gangplank. Soon, we reached the spot where Adaira was striding up and down anxiously. When we approached, she stopped, glancing guiltily between me and Berty in the distance.
"Lilly, I...I'm sorry. I know the last thing you would want right now is to be separated from him, and—"
I cut her off by placing a hand on her shoulder. With a sombre face, I stared straight into her eyes. "It's all right. Just promise me one thing."
"Y-yes?"
"When you have your first one, let me be the godmother."
"You...!" Colour flooded her face. "What do you...I mean you can, but...I..."
"Come on!" Suddenly grinning from ear to ear, I linked my arm with hers and started pulling her towards the peer. "Let's get your man!"
***
"Quick, quick! Move those carts over there! And those supplies go into the cellar. Remember to cover the door. Let's hope the invading army will overlook them."
"Um...pardon me, Sahib," the head of the palace servants whom Carter had more or less conscripted as his gofer cleared his throat. "The wagons to block the streets leading to residential quarters I can understand, but why are we hiding food all over the place?"
Carter gave the man a look. "Have you ever been in a siege?"
"Err...no, Sahib."
"Well, I have. More importantly, I have witnessed what happens afterwards, once the defence collapses and the defenders are overwhelmed. Armies are like swarms of locusts. They devour anything and everything in their way, and what they can't eat, they take. Even if the majority of the people in the city survive the siege, what do you think will happen to them once the army is gone, and all food along with it?"
Sweat started to appear on the servant's forehead. "You mean..."
The captain fixed a stern gaze on the other party. "I mean we should stash away all the food we can. Starting now."
"Yes, Sahib!"
The man dashed away to fulfil his duties, and Carter turned back to the map on the wall, on which several points were marked as potential hiding spots for civilians. Not that he was going to be able to hide the hundreds of thousands of people in the city. But he also understood very clearly that the approaching army had a lot of resentment to vent, and at whom that resentment would be directed. People who collaborated with the British. Converts to Christianity. Those Britons who were unfortunate enough to be stuck in the city. And, last but certainly not least, women. Women of any shape and form, regardless of origin or nationality, just because they were women, and the invading army was full of men without anyone reining in their darker impulses.
This was the reality of war.
Shaking his head, Carter sighed.
"All those people...that's nearly half the city. It's utterly impossible to hide them all. Dammit!" With an angry growl, he punched his desk. "Utterly impossible! Unless..."
Suddenly, a bright light shone in his eyes.
Who said they had to be hidden? The enemies outside were not enough in number to completely surround the city, and there were still quite a few troops here who would listen to his commands. If he could fake an attack on one side of the city, and then smuggle people out the other side...
Quickly, Carter grabbed a set of binoculars and strode to the window to check the situation outside—and immediately, his shoulders sank. The rebel troops hadn't been close enough to see before, but now it was quite obvious. They had brought cavalry. Lots and lots of cavalry. Escaping from the city with hundreds of thousands of civilians, on foot?
Ha! Good joke, Carter!
There would be no getting out of the city, that much was clear. If he really wanted to save more than a handful of people, he would have to use his last resort. Something he had really, really hoped he wouldn't have to do. Pulling a grimace, he reached into a nearby cupboard to fish out another map and—
"Out of the way! Out of the way, you fools!"
—froze where he stood, wondering what kind of blithering idiot thought now of all times was a good moment to interrupt him. A moment later, the door to the office flew open, and a tall man with a lion's mane of blond hair and steel-blue eyes stormed into the room.
Ah. So it was this kind of idiot.
He cleared his throat. "Well, good afternoon to you, Mr..."
"Lord," the other man corrected, his eyes flashing dangerously.
Too bad Captain Carter was immune to flashy things.
"Ah, then good afternoon, Mr Lord," he told the other man with a completely innocent smile. "It is a pleasure to meet you. How may I help you this fine day on the verge of a bloody war?"
"Not 'Mr Lord'." The other man's voice was low. Dangerously low. "Just Lord. Lord Daniel Eugene Dalgliesh, to be precise."
Captain Carter stiffened. He knew that name. How could he not? Every single soldier serving in India at this very moment knew it. Lord Daniel Eugene Dalgliesh, chairman and chief shareholder of the East India Company. The man who, above all else, one should avoid pissing off.
Well, seems like at least I've done one thing right today.
"Ah, Your Lordship." The captain inclined his head in a manner that could barely be called a bow. "What an honour to have you as my guest."
"That it is. I'm glad you are aware of the situation. Now, you may help me..." With narrowed eyes, the man with the lion's mane stepped forward, until the two were close enough to stab each other. Something which the blonde man seemed to be more than happy to try. "The answer? You can do your bloody duty! Are you an officer or a coward? In case you hadn't noticed, there is an army approaching this city! So stop lazing around and do your job, Captain!"
"Oh, but I am." Plastering the kind of happy smile on his face that he had always found to be very useful when dealing with arrogant bastards, Captain Carter tapped the map on the wall. "Can't you see?"
Dalgliesh snorted. "I'm not talking about preparing a refuge for those useless civilian bottom feeders! I'm talking about defending what matters!"
"What a coincidence." The captain looked past the other man, through the window, at the milling crowds of frightened people in the courtyard below. "So am I."
A grinding noise sounded throughout the room. For a moment, Carter looked around curiously, trying to find the two millstones that were making such a noise—only to discover that said grinding noise was coming from a set of noble teeth.
"Why," Dalgliesh demanded, his voice hard as steel, "are you not on the city wall, organising the defence?"
"Oh, that's simple." Once more, the captain gave the other man a bright smile, which fulfilled its purpose by pissing off the other party even more. "I don't want to."
"You...!" The face of the nobleman turned an interesting colour of crimson. At any other time, Captain Carter would have spent some time admiring and complimenting it. However, right now, he had much more urgent things to do than waste time on this pompous ponce. "You are a soldier, Captain! Are you telling me to my face that you are disobeying orders? That you plan to desert?"
Dessert? I could certainly use some right now. Hm...chocolate cake...
However, he didn't voice his desire for cake. Instead, he widened his smile and raised a finger. "Ah! I see what's the problem. I believe you might be labouring under a misapprehension here. You seem to believe that I am under your command."
"Aren't you?" Dalgliesh's eyes narrowed. "You are an officer—"
"—of the British Army," Captain Carter finished smoothly. "The Army serving Her Majesty Victoria, by the Grace of God, Queen of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, and Defender of the Faith. Not you."
"India is—"
"—the private property of the East India Company, and thus has nothing to do with me. I was merely dispatched here to monitor the situation and then give my report to my superiors." With quite some effort, Carter widened his smile a final time. It almost felt as if his face were about to split apart, but Dalgliesh's expression made it worth it. "Rest assured, Your Lordship, my report will include your sterling performance during this time."
The lord opposite him opened his mouth to retort—then decided that, apparently, he didn't know any bad enough insults, and closed it again.
"Well then!" Clapping his hands, Carter strode towards the door and pulled it open with a flourish. His meaning could not have been any more obvious. "Unless there is anything else...?"
For a long moment, Dalgliesh was silent. Then...
"I will make them fight."
Carter cocked his head. "Pardon?"
A steely blue gaze settled on him. "I will not allow that barbaric rabble in front of the gates to take this city. My city, in my country! And if they want to force their way in? Well, I, too, have rabble at my disposal!" Gesturing through the open window at the crowds outside, Dalgliesh smiled. It was not a pleasant smile. "Do as I say and command the soldiers in this city to defend my property, or I will force the crowd outside to form a militia in defence of this place. I brought quite a few guards with me. Using them to compel those gutter rats to do my bidding will be a simple thing."
"Are you insane?!" Carter hissed. "Those are civilians! It will be a massacre! They will all die!"
"Better them than me," came the answer instantly.
"Why do you even want me to command the city's troops? Why not just do it yourself?"
"And risk my life in the process?" Dalgliesh snorted. "I don't have time for jokes. Besides, with how foolish soldiers are, they might not listen to a civilian, even if I am technically the one who owns them all. But a military man like you? They will listen to you." Eyes narrowed, Dalgliesh stepped forward. "So, what will it be, Captain? Will you fight on the walls, or should I send the people you want to protect to fight in your stead?"
"You wouldn't dare!" Never in his life had Captain James Carter felt such fury well up inside him. "There are hundreds of thousands of people in this city! They could easily overwhelm your men, and your fate would be death!"
"As it would be if the walls fall." Dalgliesh's voice was as sharp as a butcher's knife. "I'm willing to take the risk. So, the choice is yours now, Captain. What will it be?"
A long moment of silence pervaded the room. Then, slowly, begrudgingly, Captain James Carter lowered his head into a formal bow.
"I am at your command, My Lord."
A faint smile tugged at Dalgliesh's mouth. "Good. Very good. Now, go gather the men. I think it is time for a rousing speech to bolster morale, don't you?"
Without a word, Carter moved past him and marched out the door. Outside, one of the palace servants was just rushing down the corridor towards him. The moment the man saw Captain Carter, he stopped and bowed.
"Sahib! We've executed your orders from before. Next, we—"
"Not now!" Carter cut him off, striding past him with a grim face. "Fetch me my sabre and rifle, and call together all the soldiers! We're going to war!"
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My dear Readers,
Regarding the long list of Queen Victoria's titles in the above chapter, any history buffs among you might have noticed that there is one missing. At the end of her life, Queen Victoria also bore the title of "Empress of India"—but that was only from 1876 onward, long after the East India Company had lost control over the Indian subcontinent, and it had been taken over by the British government. Thus, what Captain Carter says about this matter not involving him is historically correct.
Yours Truly
Sir Rob
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GLOSSARY:
Sod-all: British English slang for "nothing".