She looked at Del. “So in answer to your question, no, I don’t think any of my people are involved.”
Del started to nod, then stopped. “What about the boy?”
“Sangay? What about him?”
Del frowned. “What’s his background? Where does he come from? What do you know of him?”
Deliah frowned back. “I don’t know where he comes from—I know nothing about him. He’s your staff, not mine.”
Del froze. “He’s not mine.” When Deliah blinked, he added, “I—and my people—thought he was yours.”
She stared at him. “My people thought the reverse.”
“Aha!” Devil rose and, grim-faced, crossed to the bellpull. “It sounds like we’ve identified our thief.”
Webster answered the summons remarkably quickly.
“Tell Sligo and Cobby to report here,” Devil said.
“And Mustaf, too.” Del glanced at Devil. “He might know more.”
“And please ask Janay and Kumulay to come up, too,” Deliah added. She met Del’s gaze. “They’ve all been talking to him.”
Webster bowed and departed on his mission.
“When did you first notice the boy?” Gyles asked.
Del and Deliah looked at each other.
“He was with us in London,” Deliah said.
Del nodded. “I can’t recall seeing him before then, but he might have joined us at Southampton.”
“That would make more sense,” Deliah pointed out. “Our respective households knew each other by the time we reached London. But we left Southampton in a rush—if he was suddenly among them then, they would have assumed, as they did, that he belonged to the other household.”
Devil raised his brows. “Quick thinking on his part, if that was so.”
A tap on the door heralded those summoned. Sligo led the others in. “Y’r Graces.” He bowed, and the others followed suit.
“Colonel Delborough has a few questions about the boy, Sangay.” Devil arched a brow at Del.
Briefly, concisely, Del explained the situation—the missing scroll-holder, and the recent realization that Sangay did not belong to either his or Deliah’s household.
“He doesn’t?” Cobby gave voice to the astonishment lighting his, Mustaf’s, Janay’s, and Kumulay’s faces.
Sligo growled, “The little beggar.”
“Wait before you judge, Sligo,” Del recommended. “The boy’s likely to be a victim in all this.” He glanced at Cobby and Mustaf. “You two know how the Black Cobra operates. Any thoughts?”
After a moment, Mustaf volunteered, “I did think he—Sangay—seemed…” He waggled a hand, pulled a face. “Oddly quiet for a boy of his years, his background.”
Kumulay nodded. “I originally thought he must have been an orphan—that he’d lost his family. He seemed…re served, you would say, and quietly sad. But then I heard him praying for his maataa.” He glanced around the company. “His mother.”
Del and Deliah exchanged a glance.
“Could the Black Cobra be holding Sangay’s mother as a hostage against him stealing the scroll-holder?” she asked.
Del frowned. “I can’t see how Ferrar might have arranged that—to be already holding her—not unless, foreseeing a need he couldn’t possibly have foreseen, he brought Sangay with him from India.” He looked inquiringly at Cobby.
Cobby shook his head. “No Indian boy on the ship Ferrar and Larkins arrived on. Not in any capacity.”
“So Ferrar—or more likely Larkins—must have picked him up in Southampton, or even in London. Plenty of East Indiamen in the Pool of London on any given day.” Del’s face hardened. “And just because the Black Cobra recruited Sangay here in England doesn’t mean that Sangay doesn’t believe his mother is in dire and imminent peril back in India.”
Cobby was nodding, his expression grim. “Young, impressionable, and well out of his league—not even in his own country. Sangay’d be an easy target for anyone who knew what levers to pull.”
“Indeed. And the Black Cobra certainly knows.” Del looked at Mustaf. “Where is Sangay?”
“He was in the servants’ hall when we left to come here.”
“I’ll go and bring him up,” Cobby said.
Del nodded. He dismissed the others with a word of thanks, and they all trooped out on Cobby’s heels.
A murmur of light voices filled the silence as the ladies asked questions, seeking clarification on the Black Cobra’s heinous tactics. Minutes passed while they listened, then, shocked, exclaimed.
Del inwardly grimaced, and paced before the hearth.
After a while, he frowned, halted, and looked at Devil. Caught his eye. “Perhaps—”
A tap on the door interrupted his suggestion that they ring to find out what was going on. Cobby had been far too long.
At Devil’s “Come!” the door opened. Sligo and Cobby walked heavily in. Sligo met Del’s gaze, then Devil’s, and nodded grimly. “You’ve guessed it. He’s gone.”
“Where?” Devil asked.
“That’s just it.” Cobby looked at Del. “We don’t think he’s left the house.”
Twelve
Verbal pandemonium ensued.
Ignoring all the questions and exclamations, suppositions and speculations, Devil dispatched Vane and Demon, along with Cobby and Sligo, to the tower.
Vane and Demon returned ten minutes later, confirming that the blanket of snow surrounding the house remained unbroken.
“No one’s come in, and no one’s left.” Vane dropped back into his chair. “Cobby and Sligo have gone down to do a quick reconnoiter of the nether regions.”
The pair of erstwhile batmen returned fifteen minutes later to report. By then, the rest of them had beaten all the suppositions to death and been left with a large handful of unanswered, and as yet unanswerable, questions.
“Have to say it’s dreadful outside,” Sligo said. “Not fit for man nor beast. Freeze your…toes off, it would, and Sangay wouldn’t be used to cold like that, would he? Any roads, the scullery maids said they’ve found him looking out the scullery window on and off since yesterday morning. That window looks onto the rear yard, and the snow is undisturbed out that way.”
“Mustaf and I searched his room in the attic,” Cobby reported. “There was nothing there. Literally nothing beyond a comb he’d borrowed from Matara saying he’d lost his own. Sligo found him a page’s coat once we got here—poor lad was shivering and said he had nothing warmer to wear. That wasn’t in the room, nor was Sangay.”
“He’s got the scroll-holder and is worried about being caught,” Deliah said. “So he’s hiding.”
Del met her eyes, nodded. “He’s quick—he must be to have got this far without any of us suspecting. He must have got the wind up when we called the others up here, and gone off to find a safe place to hide.” Del looked at Devil. “The question is: where?”
Devil returned his gaze, then raised his brows. “Strange to say, despite its long past, I don’t believe anyone has ever tried to search this house.”
“Hardly surprising,” Vane said. “The place is immense.”
“Well, there’s a first time for everything.” Honoria looked at Devil. “Ring for Webster. We’ll need to confer.”
Devil nodded. Richard, the closest, rose and tugged the bellpull.
Demon had returned to the sofa beside Flick. “It’s still blowing a gale outside, but there’s no snow falling, and the clouds aren’t promising more. However, the wind is scouring what’s already fallen and blowing it about like the worst sort of sleet. Not even a desperate boy would try to leave just yet. It might be possible by tomorrow, depending on his level of desperation and if it ices over, but today not even Goliath would get twenty yards.”
“That’s something,” Devil said. “So we’ll have at least all day to find him and the scroll-holder.”
“And we’ll most likely need every minute.” Gabriel looked cynically resigned. Alathea poked him. He looked at her. ??
?Just being realistic.”
“Try being encouraging instead.”
Webster arrived, and the talk turned to how best to quarter such a very large house. All the ladies joined in, which drew their menfolk to offer helpful, and in some cases less helpful, suggestions.
At an early point in the proceedings, Devil sent Sligo up to the nursery. He returned to report that all was quiet up there. “The footmen and nursemaids haven’t seen or heard anything—most haven’t sighted Sangay at all—but now they know, they’ll keep their eyes open, and their ears, too, in case he tries to hide somewhere up there.”
Still seated behind his desk, Devil nodded, continuing to jot notes on a piece of paper as, with Webster standing behind him, Gyles perched on the desk to his left, Del in similar position on his right, and Sligo and Cobby hovering near, they thrashed out the basic skeleton of an effective search.
Eventually, Devil reached for a heavy paperweight and banged it on his blotter. “Quiet!”
Everyone fell silent. All heads turned his way.
“Thank you.” He inclined his head to Honoria, then went on, “We’ve come up with a reasonable plan of campaign. Webster and Sligo will coordinate a search of the lower levels, and all the servants’ domains belowstairs. They’ll do that now, first. Once those areas are known to be clear, we’ll seal them off by placing footmen or stable lads at all the relevant doors and on all the stairs. There’s only so many routes that connect abovestairs with below. By blocking those, we can ensure Sangay can’t slip past and get behind the searchers.”
Devil glanced around at the attentive faces. “There’s no sense in being anything but methodical. Once belowstairs is cleared and sealed off, then all those who normally have business abovestairs and so know the basic layout of the house will start searching, working from the ground floor up. We’ll go floor by floor, all the way to the third floor—the attics—if need be. As each floor is cleared, we’ll put watchers on the stairs so Sangay can’t slip through our net.” Devil laid down his notes, looked at the others. “That seems the only way to efficiently and effectively search this place, and we’ll need all hands on deck to help.”
“Well, of course,” Honoria said.
No one disagreed.
“However,” Honoria continued, “I suggest that when it comes to us”—a wave of her hand indicated them all—“we should search in pairs. A lady will think to look in places a gentleman won’t, and vice versa.”
“So we search as couples?” When Honoria nodded, and the other ladies mirrored the gesture, Devil glanced at the males scattered about the room, then smiled in mild acceptance. “That sounds like an eminently…sensible idea.”
Honoria narrowed her eyes at him.
Devil pretended not to notice.
They decided to have an early lunch while the areas beyond the green baize doors were searched. Cobby and Sligo took charge, leaving Webster to supervise the serving of the meal.
The seating was impromptu, resulting in the ladies congregating at one end, flanking Honoria, with the men at the other, on either side of Devil. There was much discussion in both groups. The ladies’ attention centered on the life Sangay must have led to that point, which resulted in a discussion of conditions in India and elsewhere in the colonies. Deliah found herself peppered with questions, most of which she could answer, either from her own experience, or her uncle’s, or Del’s. Over the past days, she’d picked up quite a lot about the Black Cobra and his nefarious ways.
The ladies’ sympathies were all for Sangay. Other than Deliah, all were mothers, and all had baby boys.
They were just finishing the fruit course, a degree of mild excitement burgeoning, when Cobby and Sligo presented themselves. In keeping with the campaignlike atmosphere, they both stood to attention.
“He’s not anywhere belowstairs.” Sligo sounded unshakably confident.
“We’ve cleared the attics, as well, Your Graces.” Cobby nodded respectfully to the table at large. “It was easy enough to open the doors and see the dust hadn’t been disturbed. We left some stable lads to guard the attic doors, just in case, once he hears us searching, Sangay thinks to slip up there.”
“Excellent.” Devil sat back. “You’ve done your bit—you can stand down and hold your lines while we do ours.” He looked around the table. “So here’s what we’ll do.”
It was a massive house, and they would have only so long before the gray light faded. Searching by candelight would be that much harder; with that prospect hovering, they were committed to searching thoroughly, yet as quickly as they could.
They’d agreed each floor had to be declared clear before any of them moved on to the next. On the ground floor, Del walked beside Deliah as she bustled down the corridor into the middle section of the wing to which they’d been assigned. Following them, Richard and Catriona were to search the rooms further along, to the wing’s end, while Vane and Patience had already disappeared into the room nearest the front hall.
The other couples were likewise spread throughout the house, down each of the main wings, and through the central section around the massive stairs.
Many footmen, all the parlor maids and housemaids, all the ladies’ maids and gentleman’s gentlemen—anyone familiar with the rooms abovestairs—were assisting, searching the smaller rooms, the service rooms, storage areas and cupboards hidden behind paneling or tucked between the main rooms. Grooms and stable lads, meanwhile, were positioned on all the stairs.
Reaching their appointed position along the wing, Del saluted Richard and Catriona, then followed Deliah into the billiard room.
She’d halted beside the massive table that dominated the room, looking around, taking stock. “There doesn’t seem all that many places to hide in here.”
“There’s cupboards along the side walls.” Del pointed out the doors cunningly set into the paneling. “They’re deep enough to hide a scrawny boy.”
Deliah nodded. “I’ll take this side.”
Del headed for the other side of the room. Although the billiard table currently held pride of place, this room had originally been a general indoor games room. The cupboards held boards, stacks of cards and assorted paraphernalia associated with various games popular with the aristocracy over the last…Del thought it must be something like a century. Some of the cupboards certainly held enough dust.
Across the room, Deliah sneezed, then muttered, “Ugh—there are spiders.”
A moment later, she reached the end of her wall of cupboards. Straightening, she noticed the heavy velvet curtains looped back with cords framing each of the wide windows. Each swag of gathered curtain was wide enough to hide a boy.
Walking to the windows, she patted and poked the first curtain, then continued along, subjecting the other curtains to the same treatment.
“No boy.” Turning, she arched a brow at Del. “Shall we move on?”
Before he rose, Del looked under the billiard table itself, then he nodded and straightened. “He’s definitely not in here.”
They only had two rooms to search on this level. The next proved to be a minor sitting room adjacent to the conservatory. The room was relatively small and contained no concealed cupboards. The two sideboards it did contain were easy to search, the few pieces of furniture easy to check beneath or behind.
“He’s not here either.” Through the window, Deliah could see Vane and Patience going down the avenues between the plants in the well-stocked conservatory. Every so often, one would duck to look under this palm, or behind that plant; when next she straightened, Patience flung a frowning glance over her shoulder at her spouse. “Perhaps we should help in the conservatory.”
Del came to stand beside Deliah. His lips curved as he looked into the glass-roofed room. “I think Vane has it in hand.”
Arching her brows, Deliah turned away. “In that case, we may as well wait in the corridor.”
As the searchers finished their allotted tasks, all returned to the wide corridors, shaking their h
eads when others looked inquiringly. Deliah considered the line of people gradually assembling along the wing. Richard and Catriona were strolling back to join them.
Gaze rising, she looked upward, thinking of the bedrooms, sitting rooms, bathing chambers and dressing rooms above. “If I were Sangay, I’d curl up in some unlikely spot—one that might be overlooked.”
Del nodded. “I’d wager that’s exactly what he’s done. And the rooms upstairs provide more scope for that.”
Vane and Patience emerged from the conservatory. Vane shook his head. Patience looked down, straightening her gown.
In the distance, Devil’s voice rang out. “All clear?”
Vane called back from their wing. They heard Gabriel reply from the other. Sangay wasn’t on the ground floor.
“Right, then!” Devil called. “Everyone back to the front hall, then it’s up to the first floor.”
Like well-ordered troops, they all headed for the hall.
Searching thoroughly ate the minutes; the light was starting to fade by the time Deliah and Del, along with all the others, trudged up the main stairs to the second floor.
All the men were starting to look a trifle grim.
Casting a glance at Del as she went past him into the first room they were due to search—a good-sized bedchamber—Deliah inwardly humphed. “I have to say that, quite aside from seeing a room through different eyes, Honoria was very wise in suggesting we search in pairs.” She halted by the foot of the four-poster bed and, hands on hips, surveyed the bedchamber. “At least this way there’s a lady with every overpowering man.”
Del threw her an uncomprehending frown as he walked to the armoire standing against one wall. “We aren’t overpowering.”
“Oh, yes, you are—even you. Or at least you’ll appear that way to a young boy who knows you’re after him.” She started with the bed, bending to check beneath it, then patting the pile of pillows and bolsters at its head.