India Black and the Rajah's Ruby (5 page)

I was relieved myself when White finally called time on the evening a little before midnight. We bade the others goodnight and climbed slowly up the stairs.

“Still feeling badly?” I asked.

Philip scrubbed his face with his palm. “It’s the damnedest thing. I don’t know what came over me. I could barely stay at the table tonight. The smell of food made me ill.”

“Obviously the wine didn’t have the same effect.”

“Don’t be catty, India. The alcohol steadied my nerves.”

“Alright. I shan’t be catty. How did you think the evening went?”

“Except for this cursed stomach of mine, I’m pleased with our progress. You made just the right impression on White.”

“Early days,” I said with confidence. “You’ll have what you came for when we leave here.”

“I think I will,” said Philip, with what might have been a grimace of pain, or a peculiar smile.

We had been given a set of rooms on the second floor, consisting of a bedroom for each of us and a drawing room in between. Philip said goodnight to me at my door for the benefit of the footman who had accompanied us with a lamp in hand, and went on to his own room. I found a lady’s maid waiting for me, who helped me change into my dressing gown and slippers and combed out my hair for me. Then she settled me in bed with a book and a candle and told me that if I should need anything, to just pull the cord next to the bed and she would respond. It was then my stomach lurched. I drew a deep breath, fighting back the queasiness. Lord, I hadn’t felt this anxious and roiled since I’d turned my first trick.

“Please ask Mr. Barrett to come to my room,” I told the maid. “That will be all.”

She bowed herself out and I waited impatiently while the butterflies danced in my stomach.

There was a quiet knock at the door and Philip entered, wearing a staid charcoal wool dressing gown and peacock blue pajamas. He stopped short when he saw me. “You look dreadful, India. What’s the matter?”

I smiled wanly. “I’m afraid I may have acquired your malady. I’m feeling deuced odd. But come here, dear. There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

He hurried across the room and sat down on the bed, taking my hand in his.

“What is it?”

“That fellow Ashton.” I’d been struck by the fellow’s avaricious gaze upon the Rajah’s Ruby.

A spasm of anger crossed Philip’s face. “That wretch. I don’t like him. He’s a forward chap, and arrogant to boot.”

“He’s a wrong ’un.” I said. “I know. I’ve met plenty like him in my time.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s got something up his sleeve. Did you see how he pressed White to show off the jewel?”

“You don’t think—”

“I’m not sure what to think, but I believe the chap bears watching.”

Philip shrugged. “Well, he’s White’s guest and I suppose if he had any doubts about the bloke’s character he wouldn’t have invited him here. Anyway, there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“You’re probably right.” My stomach pitched again, and I gasped.

“Poor dear. Can I do anything for you?”

I closed my eyes and leaned back against the pillows. “I need something to settle my stomach. Can you ring for one of the servants?”

“Certainly.” He sprang to his feet and tugged the bellpull beside the bed. “What would you like? Some bismuth? Or would wine suit you?”

“I really think I’d like some milk. Yes, a glass of milk would do admirably.”

Philip looked dubious. “Milk?”

“Milk,” I said firmly and stirred feebly under the covers. “My stomach feels quite odd. Where’s a bloody servant when you need one?”

Philip yanked the cord once more. I moaned gently. Philip paced the rug, gnawing a thumb and looking anxiously at me.

“I don’t think anyone is coming,” I said.

Philip opened the door and looked down the hallway. “I don’t see a soul.”

“Could you be a dear and go and find someone?”

He smothered a look of irritation. Well, I didn’t expect he’d recovered from his own bout of illness. “Of course, darling. I’ll be right back.” He strode out, shutting the door behind him.

It took him a quarter of an hour to return with a housemaid in tow, her hair straggling around her shoulders and her eyes filmed with sleep. She bore a tray with a glass of milk covered by a napkin.

“Oh, thank you, Philip.” I was shaking by now, breathing rapidly. “Where were you, you wretched girl?”

“I’m dreadfully sorry, ma’am. I didn’t hear the bell.”

“I had to track down the butler,” said Philip.

I took the proffered glass and swallowed a mouthful of the milk. It was warm and viscous and tasted horrible, but I felt my stomach begin to settle almost immediately. I took a deep breath and another swallow and in a minute had relaxed against the pillows, earning a look of relief from both Philip and the maid. I handed the empty glass to her and smiled at Philip.

“I’m feeling much better now,” I announced.

“Will you require anything else, ma’am?” The maid shifted nervously from one foot to the other. “I could sleep here in the chair, in case you come over queer again.”

I waved a hand. “No, thank you. I shall be alright now. Perhaps the food was too rich for me at dinner.”

She backed out of the room and closed the door. Philip stood uncertainly at the foot of the bed.

“Are you really feeling better?”

I smiled reassuringly. “I am. Most extraordinary thing. It came over me so quickly, just as it did you before dinner.”

He looked doubtful for a moment. “Well, at least we’re both on the mend.”

“I expect we’ll feel fine tomorrow.”

“Yes, I expect so.” He glanced at the door. “As neither of us is well tonight, I believe I’ll sleep in the other room.”

“I think that would be best,” I said, and meant it.

“I’ll say goodnight then.” He pressed his lips to my cheek.

“Goodnight, Philip. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Yes. In the morning.” He looked rather unsteady as he retreated to his own room.

I turned over, arranged my pillows, and slept like a baby that night.

I sleep later than most, working as I do until the wee hours of the morning, and if you want me to be up at dawn to see the sunrise or stalk a stag with you, it’s best if we just stay up on the night preceding the festivities. Consequently, I was still communing with Somnus the next morning when a hellish racket in the hallway made me sit up in bed, looking wildly about for the first signs of flame or smoke. Nothing less than a roaring inferno could have produced the shouts and screams and running footsteps I heard outside my door. It was dark as a tomb in my room so my first order of business was to open the curtains and look at the clock on the mantel. It was a bit after nine. I yawned and slipped into a dressing gown before opening the door. Harold White was stalking down the hall, banging on doors and bellowing like an enraged bull. His minion, the pallid Ford, scurried in his wake, followed closely by Ashton. White brushed past me.

“What is it?” I asked Ford as he scuttled past. He shot me a filthy look and I retreated a step. Ashton gave me a warning glance. The first prickle of unease touched the nape of my neck.

White had ploughed to a halt outside Philip’s bedroom and now he went to work on the stout oak door. “Come out of there, you rascal,” he thundered. The door shivered beneath his blows.

I caught Ashton’s arm. “What the devil is going on?”

“The ruby’s gone.”

My hand went to my throat. “The ruby?”

“Yes, the bloody ruby. It’s disappeared.”

“But how—”

“I believe your ‘husband’ may be able to answer that question.” Ford had invested the word with such sarcasm that I felt sure he’d tumbled to my true identity. This did not bode well. Neither did the fact that Philip had failed to open his door. White was frothing at the mouth by now, howling obscenities and cataloguing the painful acts he proposed to inflict upon Philip as soon as he laid hands on the “yellow-bellied son of a bitch.”

“What makes you think Philip knows anything about the ruby?” I asked. I was hoping Philip would open the door soon, his hair tousled and rubbing sleep from his eyes, but I had a sinking feeling that he would not.

“The ruby disappeared sometime after Mr. White showed it to the guests and returned it to the safe in his room. The only time he was away from his room was when he was downstairs with the rest of us. And as Mr. Ashton has so rightly pointed out, your ‘husband’ was the only person who was absent during this period. He has some explaining to do. Where is he?” Ford batted his pale lashes furiously.

White shouted again, smashing his fist against the door and making it quiver.

Ashton put a restraining hand on White’s arm. “Allow me,” he said, and planted an elegant boot against the lock. The door shivered, but held. Ashton struck again and the wood around the lock splintered. One more kick and the door flew open.

White was first in, followed by Ford and Ashton. I heard an incoherent roar and edged forward just far enough to see that there was no sign of Philip. Indeed, the bed had not been slept in. Clearly, after he’d left me last night he had departed. I absorbed this interesting piece of information and quickly formulated the various permutations and significance thereof: (a) Philip had obviously stolen the ruby, (b) I had been his unwilling accomplice, and (c) was now offered up as the sacrificial virgin in this Greek drama. A second later, everyone else arrived at the same deduction.

White turned a red-veined gaze in my direction. “Seize her!” he shouted to Ford. Bloody hell. The rest of the group had not reached conclusions (b) and (c) but obviously believed (d): that I was Philip’s assistant and had participated in the theft.

Now you may say that I should have bolted but I wouldn’t have got far, not in a dressing gown and bare feet, without a farthing to my name. My only choice was to brazen it out. I chose for my role that of the deceived and deluded naïf. It would be deuced difficult to pull off, but that bastard Philip had left me little choice, and if he thought I might direct attention elsewhere while he made off with the loot, he was mistaken. I’d have liked to set the dogs on the man myself, but the first order of business was to extricate myself from this rather sticky situation in which Philip had deposited me.

So I whimpered and shed a few tears and told White that I was Esther Boyd and worked for Mother Aycock’s house, and had met Philip just a few days before. He had promised me a fair sum if I’d come along and pretend to be his wife so that he’d look a solid fellow and he could finagle the old man into signing some sort of contract. I told them I had come away with him on a lark and see where it had gotten me? And heavens, what was I to do now? I dashed away the tears, being sure to scrub my eyes so they were soon swollen and red. I wrung my hands and bemoaned my fate and otherwise rued the day I’d met the handsome fellow with the blond locks and the hazel eyes. And I made sure to let my dressing gown gape open to reveal a tantalizing strip of creamy skin. All this time I kept my eyes on White, not daring to look at the wraith-like Ford or at Ashton.

I could see the American softening around the edges. Men, bless ’em. I’ve yet to meet one that can’t be swayed by a pretty face, a glimpse of cleavage and a few tears. I ended my tale and threw myself upon White’s mercy, imploring him to send me back to London and let me return to my duties a wiser woman than when I had left them.

He studied me for a moment and I could see he’d almost bought the pup I was selling, but wasn’t quite sure that the pedigree was up to scratch. “What do you think, gentlemen?” he asked.

I almost groaned, for the last thing I needed at the moment was a second opinion from the likes of Ashton or Ford.

Ashton folded his arms and propped his chin in his hand. His face was grave, but I could have sworn I saw a hint of mirth in his eyes. After a lengthy pause, he pronounced: “I believe she’s telling the truth, Mr. White.”

“She’s a liar,” Ford spat. “She’s admitted as much. She came here under false pretenses.”

“She’s done that,” Ashton agreed. “But if she was Barrett’s accomplice, why did he leave her here?”

“To delay us while Barrett escapes with the jewel. We should have summoned the police when we first discovered the ruby was gone. Instead, we’ve wasted valuable time chasing after Barrett and interrogating this woman.”

“Nonsense.” Ashton laughed, and Ford flushed with anger.

“Look at her.” Ashton waved a hand at me. “Does she look like a clever jewel thief to you? She’s just who she says she is: a witless whore who fell for a chap’s smooth talk.”

Well, I wanted to hug Ashton and thank him for that while I kicked him in the conkers for describing me in such unflattering terms. I resisted the urge to do bodily harm, however, as it was in my best interests to be on the first available train to London.

The three of them dithered and argued, with Ford pressing White to turn me over to the police and Ashton saying that I was an ignorant slut who had clearly been Philip’s pawn in this game of chess. I did wish that Ashton would quit harping on about my stupidity and dubious taste in men, but the truest words sting most, and I had to admit that I had not come off well in this affair. I’d allowed myself to be mesmerized by Philip’s handsome countenance and promises of French perfume and I’d jolly well been hoodwinked. I certainly didn’t mind that he’d come here to steal the Rajah’s Ruby, but I was damned hot at the notion that he’d hired me for the sideshow without telling me.

In the end, White decided that I’d learnt my lesson and packed me off to London. I had to borrow the fare from him and I felt like a fool asking for it, but he took a few coins from his pocket and pressed them into my palm. The old coot was even nice enough to say that he wished we’d met under different circumstances. Of course, he was ogling my breasts beneath my dressing gown at the time. Then he smiled sadly and squeezed my hand and hurried off to join Ford and the local constables who had finally arrived and were now combing the place, looking for footprints and trampling Mrs. White’s roses. I was not surprised to note that Ashton had disappeared from the scene. If I was correct about that bloke’s background, he had every reason to avoid the police. It was with great relief and a firm resolve never to be played for a fool again that I boarded the express to the Big Smoke.