Stalking towards the soon-to-be deceased man in front of her, Adaira cracked her knuckles.
"Ehem...now, now, listen here," the future corpse formerly known as Captain Carter spoke up and raised his hands. Probably to shield himself. A futile effort. "This is a complete misunderstanding. It's not at all what you're thinking."
"Oh?" With a smile as sweet as poison on her face, Adaira leaned towards him. "And what precisely am I thinking?"
"Err, well..." Glancing between himself and the lady at the door of the nearby house, Captain Carter opened his mouth to respond—then saw the expression on Adaira's face and closed it again.
"Well? Why aren't you talking, Mister?"
"Um, Adaira—"
"That's Miss Ambrose to you, Captain!"
"Miss Ambrose, let me explain!"
"Oh? By all means, go ahead. I'm all ears." Sliding a hand into her pocket, Adaira smiled. "And guns, of course."
"Err, well..." Captain Carter cleared his throat. "The lady here has graciously agreed to let me stay in her home because of a service I did her—"
"Oh?" Adaira pulled out her gun. "And how exactly did you 'service' her?"
"I...wait, that's not what I said!"
"But you didn't deny it, either, did you?"
Adaira cocked her gun. Not that she was going to shoot him. Probably. But she sure as hell was going to make him think she was. That philandering son of a bachelor was going to pay for what he had done! He actually dared betray—
"Ah, darling, there you are!"
Just when she was about to decide whether to beat up the unfaithful scoundrel in front of her or simply kick him in the nuts, a voice from the nearby house drew her attention. Glancing up, she saw a fat little man with a bandage around his head and a friendly smile on his face appearing in the doorway. The beautiful woman turned towards him and...drew him into a loving embrace?
Huh?
Wasn't this woman the secret paramour of that unfaithful scoundrel of a captain? Why was she...why would she...?
Nonplussed, Adaira turned towards Captain Carter.
"What is happening?"
"That is what I've been trying to tell you!" he said, one corner of his mouth crooked. "That's the lady's husband. He is a wealthy merchant in this city and was unfortunate enough to encounter a rebel who thought Britons weren't the only acceptable plunder targets. I assisted him in his predicament and brought him home, and the couple insisted on showing their gratitude."
"That's right!" The lady at the door exclaimed, hugging the man who only reached to her collarbone like her own personal plushy. "The dear captain saved my sweet honey bear from the claws of those horrid people! How could I not repay him for his generosity by offering him shelter?"
"I, um...you..." Adaira opened her mouth to retort—only to discover that there were no reasonable grounds to object.
Really? The fact that she is a beautiful woman within a hundred feet of my man seems reasonable, right?
Well, yes. But probably not to anyone except Adaira.
"Why don't the two of you come inside," the seductive siren offered. "We shouldn't tarry out here, where the rebels could come by at any moment."
Dammit! Adaira inwardly cursed. Why was everything this woman said so bloody logical and so difficult to argue with? And why did she have to be so goddamn beautiful?
Captain Carter leaned towards her. Out of the corner of her eye, Adaira saw the corner of his mouth twitch.
"Jealous?" he whispered.
"What gave you that idea?" she retorted, making sure to keep her expression blasé.
"The way you're fingering your gun like a pyromaniac would do with his favourite match box."
Adaira froze.
Crap. He was right.
Quickly stuffing away the gun, she felt her face flush. "I'm not!"
"Oh?"
"Yes!" Adaira gave him my best demure-maiden-look. "I would never raise a weapon against an innocent!"
"Is that so?"
"Absolutely."
"Then you should probably put the safety back on your gun. Especially if you don't want to shoot yourself in the leg."
Crap!
Paling abruptly, Adaira snatched the gun out of her pocket and fumbled to get the safety on. Only once she had made sure the thing wouldn't blow her toes off did she put it back again and breathed a sigh of relief, pretending not to notice the smirk on Captain Carter's face.
"Well then, what are you waiting for?" Pulling the front door fully open, the woman—who was still far too pretty for Adaira's taste—gestured towards the interior of the house. "Come inside. Any friend of Captain Carter's is welcome in our home."
Adaira opened her mouth, ready to say "Fiancée, not friend!"—until she felt a sudden pressure on her foot and glanced over at the aforementioned captain.
"You are still wearing trousers!" he whispered.
Adaira closed her mouth again.
Turning towards their soon-to-be hostess, Captain Carter gave a polite bow. "We would be delighted to." Glancing over his shoulder, he lowered his voice. "And I think we should get a move on."
"Why do—"
Adaira's words had hardly fallen when she heard it: the thudding of boots, heading quickly down a nearby street.
"Move!" the Indian lady hissed, and for the first time, Adaira couldn't find it within herself to disagree with her. "Into the house, now!"
Instinctively, Adaira started forward, but before she had even taken a single step, she felt two strong arms wrap around her and lift her up into the air. A moment later, she found herself in Captain Carter's embrace, flying towards the house at a dizzying speed.
"Inside, inside!"
Urged on by the whispered words of the Indian couple, the captain leapt through the doorway and ducked into a niche, out of sight of anyone who might pass by outside. Adaira held her breath as the door slammed shut behind them. Outside, the sound of heavy footsteps was now clearly audible, even through the thick wood of the door.
Please don't let them have seen us! Don't let them have seen us!
"Move!" The Indian lady suddenly appeared, her eyes filled with fear. "You can't stay here! What if they come in and want to search the house?"
Adaira swallowed. "That has happened before?"
Captain Carter's face was grim. "Once. Luckily, those rebels were decent men and didn't do any harm. But there's no guarantee..."
He didn't need to finish for her to understand. There's no guarantee that will be the case again. Especially if they find two British spies hiding in the house.
"Follow me!" The pudgy little man waddled past them and hurried down a wooden staircase. "Quickly!"
Captain Carter moved without hesitation, as if he already knew where they were going—which he probably did. Adaira decided to keep her mouth tightly shut and didn't make a sound, for fear of announcing her presence to the rebels outside. Soon, the four of them descended into a cavernous cellar that was almost completely dark and empty.
"This is my storage cellar," the fat little man said with an almost anguished expression on his face. "Or at least, it used to be. Most of the goods were 'requisitioned' by the new army."
Adaira cocked her head. If there was one thing her brother had taught her, it was to pay attention to details.
"Most?"
"Ah, ehem, yes..." The little man cleared his throat. "I've always been a very cautious businessman. Sometimes, there are goods in my possession that are too, um, delicate to fall into the rough hands of the authorities. They have to be stored in a special place, you understand?" Smiling, he waggled his eyebrows in a manner that could not have been clearer if he had the word "smuggling" tattooed onto his forehead.
"Completely." Adaira nodded. She was sister to Rikkard Ambrose, after all. Thriftiness was always preferable, and if it came at the expense of people who didn't really need money (like tax collectors, for example) then all the better.
"Then let's get you inside." The merchant rushed forward hurriedly. "Darling, if you would?"
"Of course, dear."
Stepping forward, the lady of the house reached up and pulled on a wall lamp too high up on the wall for her husband to touch. A moment later, without the slightest noise, a cabinet that stood at the opposite side of the room swung away from the wall on well-oiled hinges, revealing a sizable hidden chamber behind it. Or it would have been sizable if not for the fact that most of it was stuffed to the brim with valuables.
"Um..." The fat little merchant sent me a hesitant look. "You're slim. I'm sure you and the captain will both fit in, right?"
Normally, Adaira would appreciate compliments on her figure. Right now, however, their host's words did not achieve the same effect. That might have had something to do with the sound that came from above a second later.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Three heavy, muffled knocks came from the direction of the front door.
"Inside!" the merchant whispered urgently.
Captain Carter didn't hesitate for a second. Not even bothering to put her down, he squeezed into the tiny leftover space with Adaira in his arms, and their hostess reached towards the secret lever. Then she...winked?
"Majā karā!" she said with a smile and pulled.
The hidden door swung shut, plunging the two of them into darkness.
"Um...maja kara?" Adaira asked the pitch-black nothingness in front of her.
Only inches away, Captain Carter cleared his throat. "I believe it means something along the lines of 'Have fun.'"
Adaira felt her cheeks flush in the shadows, and, for the first time, was intensely grateful for the darkness of the secret room. "Oh."
"Yes."
"You, um...think she might have seen through my disguise?"
"What do you think?"
The darkness made Adaira unable to see his face, but it didn't keep her from hearing the amusement in his voice. Her blush deepened.
"So..." She felt a gentle hand touch her cheek. "How about we take her advice?"
Yet before she could fully register those words, let alone reply, the heavy thudding of boots sounded from above, and the two of them froze abruptly. Suddenly, they seemed to remember that they weren't engaging in hanky-panky in a broom closet back in England, but were in a far more serious situation.
"Maybe later," Adaira whispered. "For now, please just...hold me?"
Careful to remain absolutely silent, he gently set her down on the only tiny piece of available floor and slid his arms around her waist. Allowing herself to be pulled into his embrace, she buried her face in his chest and tried to move as little as possible. Like this, the two of them stood together without daring to breathe, while above them, the pounding of footsteps and gruff voices became louder and louder. The way they sounded...
They weren't just at the door, Adaira realised. The sounds were far too close for that!
"Are...are they coming in?" she whispered, not bothering to try and disguise the slight panic in her voice. "Why are they coming in? I thought you said that almost never happens!"
"Well..." Adaira could practically hear the corner of the captain's mouth twitch. "It might have something to do with the spy hunt going on all over the city."
"Oh. Um." Adaira was about to clear her throat—then remembered that they were hiding from people who wanted to kill them, and decided to shut up instead.
Just then, she heard a creak.
The creaking of the cellar stairs.
"Yahaan neeche kya hai?" came a gruff voice, muffled by the secret door.
Adaira didn't know what those words meant, but it wasn't hard to guess. Sure enough, it wasn't long before she heard some of the rebels come stomping down into the cellar and spread out. Adaira didn't say anything more. Instead, she kept herself completely still, her arms tightly wrapped around the only thing that kept her calm: her man.
A man she really didn't want to lose.
Please don't let them discover us! Please don't let them discover us! Please don't let them discover u—
The muffled footsteps stopped right outside the secret door.
"Hē kāya āhē?"
What the heck does that mean? Have we been found?
Adaira wanted to ask, but she didn't dare.
"Mājhī sarvōttama vā'ina," came the voice of the little merchant.
The rebels grunted in response—then Adaira heard them step forward and grip the cabinet that concealed the hidden door.
OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGod! They're going to find us! They're going to pull open the door and—
They pulled open the door.
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....aaaand Cliffhanger, my dear Readers! I hope you enjoyed the chapter. What do you think of the two new characters I introduced?
Oh, and by the way, please do not take what my fictional characters said about tax and tax collectors as an encouragement. Taxes should always be paid, so you can be a law-abiding citizen, and I can avoid being sued. ;-)
Yours Truly
Sir Rob