From her position on one chaise, Deliah noticed that Sangay’s feet didn’t even reach the floor, and that he sat with his knees pressed tight, head ducked, as if to quell knocking knees and make himself invisible. She hesitated, then leaned forward, picked up one of Mrs. Hull’s justifiably famous jam tarts, rose, and went to give it to Sangay.

He looked up at her, surprised, but then took it with a murmured word of thanks.

The tart was gone, every last crumb, before Deliah re sumed her seat. She thought it likely Sangay hadn’t eaten at all that day.

Then Cobby arrived, ushering in her senior staff and Del’s. Both Matara and Amaya stopped by Sangay’s chair. Straining her ears, Deliah heard them telling him to be a good boy and answer the sahibs’ questions directly-by which they meant truthfully-and all would be well.

As Deliah had suspected, Sangay was comforted by the other servants’ presence. Still…he remained very much alone on his chair by the desk.

Surrendering to impulse, she rose, set down her teacup and crossed to where another straightbacked chair stood against the wall. She started to lift it. Vane came to help. She directed him to set it next to Sangay’s chair.

Once he had, she thanked him with a smile, and sat, then reached out and patted Sangay’s thin hand. “All you have to do is what Matara and Amaya told you. Just answer the questions, and everything will be all right.”

Sangay met her eyes for a moment, then bobbed his head.

Devil chose that moment to call the gathering to order. “Now we’ve found our missing young man, let’s hear what he has to say.” He smiled at Sangay, perfectly innocuously, but Sangay no longer trusted the smiles of powerful men, and there was nothing wrong with his instincts. Deliah sensed the tension holding him increase.

But then Del came around the front of Devil’s desk. He relaxed against it and smiled at Sangay.

Sangay looked back. He didn’t smile, but his tension eased.

“Sangay, we need to tell these people where you came from, and all that you know of the evil-sahib, the man who bullied you into stealing the scroll-holder.” Del paused, then asked, “Incidentally, where is it?”

“In one of the bins in the big storeroom near to the back door, sahib. The bin nearest the back of the room.” Sangay started to slide off the chair, but Del waved at him to stay and looked at Sligo and Cobby instead.

“That’s the pantry,” Sligo said.

“I’ll fetch it.” Cobby headed for the door.

Del turned back to Sangay. “Meanwhile-”

With a series of simple questions, Del led Sangay through his story. He didn’t rush, didn’t let the ladies’ sympathetic murmurs and outraged exclamations distract him or the boy. Sangay’s answers came haltingly at first, but with each point he relaxed and grew more confident, until, when Del asked for a description of Sangay’s evil-sahib, an excellent word picture tripped off the boy’s tongue.

Del glanced at Devil, seated silently behind the desk. “Larkins.”

Devil frowned. “Why so sure?”

“The deeply tanned skin plus the close-cropped hair-not many Englishmen would fit that description.”

Devil conceded that with a nod.

Turning back to Sangay, Del saw the question in the boy’s face. “I think the evil-sahib’s name is Larkins.”

Sangay nodded solemnly, and they continued with their questions and answers.

When it came to the man’s instructions, and the place where Sangay was to meet him to hand over the scroll-holder, Devil and Demon, the two locals, were unequivocal in their interpretation.

“The big church with the big tower to the northwest can only be Ely Cathedral,” Devil said. “And Larkins was wise to warn Sangay not to attempt to get there across country but to stick to the roads. The fenland between here and there is treacherous.”

“So,” Del said, his gaze on Devil’s face, “Larkins definitely wouldn’t expect Sangay to arrive at the church until after the snow melts-at least enough to make travel by road possible?”

Both Devil and Demon nodded. “Clearly he knows,” Devil said, “that there’s no chance Sangay can make it to the church before at least the day after tomorrow.”

Del hid a smile. “Just so.” The little play had been for San gay’s benefit. He looked at the boy. “So we have time to make a very good plan.”

Sangay said nothing. He shifted, bit his lip. Looked down.

Deliah glanced at him, then looked up at Del.

Del crouched so his head was level with the boy’s. “Sangay?”

Sangay lifted his gaze only briefly to Del’s face. He spoke in a bare whisper. “I’m afraid, sahib-not for me, but for my maataa. What if the evil-sahib gets angry because I don’t come, and then he might think I have failed, and been caught, and so…”

Del welcomed the reassuring noises the ladies made; they seemed to soothe Sangay.

“Listen to me, Sangay. The evil-sahib is a servant for a much more evil man, but that much more evil man is here, in England, so he can’t give any orders to make anything happen to your maataa. Just think-as neither the evil-sahib nor his master knew it was you they were going to pick to be their thief, they can’t have already seized your maataa. You know how long it takes to get letters back to India-you’ve sailed back and forth many times yourself, haven’t you?”

Sangay nodded, but his eyes remained filled with uncertainty. If there was one thing Del was sure of, it was that they-his mission-would need Sangay as a part of any “very good plan,” so he persevered. “The master of the evil-sahib won’t have sent any word back to India yet-there’s been no need, because you’ve been doing what the evil-sahib wanted. And all those here”-he gestured to those around them-“and lots of others who are helping with this mission, are going to make sure that the evil-sahib’s master is too busy to worry about sending any message, no matter what happens with you.”

Del could see from Sangay’s dark eyes-feel from the intensity of Deliah’s regard-that he hadn’t yet succeeded in allaying all fear. “And Sangay-regardless of what happens, I’ll make sure your maataa is safe. I’m a colonel, you know that?” When Sangay nodded, Del continued, “So, being a colonel, I can send a message back to India, to the Governor-General, who is the man I’m working for, and ask him to make sure that your maataa is safe.” He looked into Sangay’s eyes. “All right?”

Sangay’s fear dissolved into abject relief. “Oh, yes, please, Colonel-sahib. That would be very very good.” He hesitated, then said, his dark eyes locked with Del’s, “If you will do that for me and my maataa, I will do anything I can to help you capture the evil-sahib and his very evil master.”

Feeling relieved himself, Del allowed his features to ease into a smile, and rose. “That’s good-very good. Now”-he glanced at the other servants standing by the wall-“these gentlemen and I will need to sit down and make our plan. While we do, you can go down with the others to the servants’ hall. You must be hungry.”

“Oh, yes, Colonel-sahib. I am famished.” Smiling, Sangay slipped off the chair. He turned, and Matara waved him on ahead of her. With a little bow to Del, then another to the company, Sangay hurried to join the other servants as, with welcoming smiles for him, they filed out.

When the door shut behind Sligo, Del looked at Devil. “It’s not hard to see what we should do.”

Steepling his long fingers, Devil inclined his head. “If the Black Cobra or one of his senior henchman is going to be waiting in Ely Cathedral for Sangay to bring him the scroll-holder, I suggest we give him what he’s expecting.” He smiled, all teeth. “And just a little bit more.”

Del smiled back, equally predatorially. “My thoughts exactly.”

There were nothing but assenting sounds from the other men. The ladies, too, led by Deliah and Honoria, were in a distinctly bloodthirsty mood.

Of necessity they had to allow for the weather, but ultimately their plan wasn’t that hard to formulate.

Execution, however, was another matter.

Thirteen

December 18

Somersham Place, Cambridgeshire

The next day went in preparation.

At first light Demon, rugged up to the teeth against the bitter cold, rode out on the strongest horse in the stables-Devil’s Sulieman. Anyone who knew Demon would expect him to ride into Newmarket to check on his racing stables. That was his overt goal, his initial destination.

Once he was certain he wasn’t being followed, he would continue on to Elveden Grange to alert Royce to the developments and report their plan. If possible, Demon would return that evening in time to join the group going to the cathedral.

After an early breakfast, all the other men adjourned to the library. All the Cynsters were familiar with the cathedral, but Tony, Gervase, Del, and Gyles didn’t know the interior. Defining exactly where each of them would hide once inside, given they had to both protect Sangay and block all the numerous exits, wasn’t straightforward. In the end, Devil drew a detailed plan.

“As you can see”-he turned the sketch so the others, gathered about his desk, could more easily view it-“the cathedral’s both large and complex. The nave runs west to east. It’s extremely long, the longest in England, and the only place inside from which you can see all the principal doors is from the center of the octagon under the tower, which is where the altar sits. In other words, there isn’t any single concealed position that will allow us to cover even the main entrances. In addition, there’s umpteen smaller rooms off the various transepts, and some of them have external doors.”

He pointed to various areas on the sketch. “There’s a lady chapel and two chantry chapels at the east end. We have a presbytery here, and choir stalls separated from the nave by a screen. There are stalls between four pairs of pillars in the octagon. In the south transept, we have the cathedral library on one side and the vestries on the other. The north transept contains two chapels on one side and another chantry chapel at the end. And right at the east end of the cathedral we have the chapel of St. Etheldreda. The prior’s door-here, off the south aisle of the nave-is one example of the many unexpected entrances.”

“So our evil-sahib chose well.” Gyles glanced at Del. “That suggests he knows the area.”

“He’s probably visited,” Del said. “As Ferrar’s gentleman’s gentleman, he would have stayed from time to time with Ferrar’s father’s household. I’ve heard the Earl of Shrewton spends his winters on an estate at Wymondham, outside Norwich.”

“So Ferrar himself would be familiar with the place?” Lucifer asked.

“Almost certainly. He was born at Wymondham.”

At that point, the ladies, having risen somewhat later from their beds, joined them. They asked questions, glanced at the sketch, reiterated that Sangay had to be kept safe, then subsided in various chairs and sofas around the room. Many had brought pieces of sewing, knitting, embroidery and the like to keep their hands busy while they listened.

The men all looked at them.

Honoria waved a haughty hand. “Carry on.”

The men exchanged glances, then turned back to the desk and got down to business, placing themselves like pieces on a game board, then assessing how well the arrangement satisfied their criteria.

“Not easy,” Tony concluded. “Covering all the exits is difficult enough, but because of this octagon with the altar at its center, to sufficiently protect Sangay we’ll need at least three men close in-inside the octagon, or within a few steps of it.”

They all looked at the sketch.

“The octagon’s definitely the place to stage the handover,” Devil said. “It gives us the best chance of catching whoever comes to get the scroll-holder, Larkins, Ferrar, or both. Anywhere else is more problematical.”

“True,” Richard allowed. “But Tony’s right-we need three men to cover that area. And there’s no way to have three men that close without them being seen.”

“Disguises.” Gervase glanced at Devil. “I don’t suppose there’s any chance of laying our hands on some monk’s robes?”

Devil met his gaze, then looked down the room at Honoria. “Monk’s robes?”

She raised both brows. “We have some, certainly. In the costume box, I think.” She rose. “I’ll go and hunt them out.”

“I’ll help.” Catriona rose, too.

“Three would be useful,” Devil called.

Honoria waved as she headed for the door.

Del studied the sketch. “Let’s assume we can place three men in monk’s robes close. Where, exactly?”

They worked that out, then, once Honoria and Catriona had returned with three passable monk’s robes and they’d been tried on and approved, with those three deployments settled, they made final judgments on their other positions. Lastly, they worked out who would go where.