Abounding Might

by Melissa McShane

  In which Captain Fletcher draws an unexpected conclusion

  he emerged from the Bounding chamber to find the horses saddled and the wagon ready to travel. “Good morning,” Ainsworth said, for all the world as if her emergence was perfectly normal. “We are almost ready to be on our way.”

  “But I thought Captain Fletcher and I were to Skip ahead.”

  “We will,” Fletcher said, trotting down the steps of the post-house toward her, “but the rest of the party will continue on toward the next post-house, for what information that will give us. Better they not sit around waiting on our return.”

  Daphne was not sure this made sense, but she was not in command. “Then we may start whenever you are ready, Captain.”

  He gestured her toward the road and an open space. “I have been in anticipation of this since yesterday, Lady Daphne—if that is not too bold of me to say.”

  “I admit I have never had a passenger so eager to Skip before. You are certainly unusual in that respect.”

  Fletcher clasped his arms loosely around her shoulders. “I am certain,” he said with a smile, “it is at least in part the company.”

  Daphne could not think of a reply that would not tangle her words into unintelligibility. She put her arms around his waist, lifted, and Skipped high into the sky.

  She glanced around, trying to bury her awareness of her passenger, and located the nearest village. In an instant, she alit on the road some few hundred feet from it and released Fletcher, who held on a few moments longer than was necessary—no, that was her imagination, surely it was. He walked toward the village, and by the time she realized he was not going to wait for her, he had entered its boundaries and was speaking to a man pushing a wheelbarrow. Daphne ran after him.

  The conversation was over by the time Daphne reached him. “No luck,” Fletcher said, putting his arms around Daphne’s shoulders again. “They have not been here. Let’s try again.”

  Some twelve Skips later, Daphne’s arms and back were sore from lifting her passenger, and her stomach rumbled its hunger every time she touched ground. Fletcher was as chipper and alert as he had been from the beginning. It annoyed Daphne, who felt she was doing all the hard work—well, of course she was, and it was her responsibility to do so, so why should she resent it? She refused to admit it was because Fletcher, aside from his alacrity in putting his arms around her shoulders, had not treated her with the admiration and, yes, affection he had done at the old palace. She did not want him to treat her that way, so why was she so upset that he was doing what she wanted?

  At their next stop, when Fletcher finished asking his questions and would have taken up his position to be Skipped, Daphne stepped away before he could touch her and said, “I am in need of rest. Just a few minutes, if you please.”

  “Of course,” Fletcher said, sounding contrite. “I have been treating you like a vehicle and not a person. I beg your pardon.”

  “It is understandable, people do not realize how tiring Bounding is, probably because most people are not Bounders and have nothing to compare it to.”

  “Yes, but I have been in close enough contact with you that I should have realized you were reaching your limits.” Fletcher took Daphne’s elbow and guided her to sit on the ground beneath the spreading branches of a tree with gray-green leaves whose shadows dappled her skin. She leaned against its trunk and felt the pain in her back ease immediately.

  “What kind of tree is this?” she asked.

  “A tulip tree,” Fletcher said, settling down beside her. “You won’t see why because it is not flowering now. Its flowers are bright yellow or pink with crape-like petals, hence the name.”

  “It is beautiful even in this state.” Daphne closed her eyes and leaned her head back. “I hope I have not led you astray, Captain.”

  “How so?”

  “I fear I have underestimated how far our missing missionaries might have gone. I am not a very experienced scout; I was only four months with the War Office before I—before Lord Moira requested my services.”

  “Your search has been quite logical. I agree with your assessment as to their likely direction of travel. I believe—”

  Daphne opened one eye to look at him. “Believe what, Captain?”

  “Nothing. We simply need to continue until we have eliminated all the possibilities. Could they have made camp under the shelter of a grove of trees? I saw banyans on our last Skip.”

  “I have already examined those groves I could not see into from above. None were occupied, or showed signs of having been occupied.”

  “You are extremely thorough.”

  “The War Office’s training is thorough. I was a good student.”

  “And yet they sent you to India.”

  “I believe I told you I was unsuited for war.” Daphne stood and paced a few steps from him, stretching her back.

  “You did.” Fletcher’s voice sounded meditative. Daphne kept her back resolutely toward him. Surely he would not be so impudent as to pry further. “Well, I am grateful to have your assistance now. I doubt any of the Bounders attached to Fort William are nearly so competent as you.”

  “Thank you, Captain.”

  “Please, sit. I feel quite guilty at having over-extended your reserves.”

  “I am well enough, Captain, I simply need to stretch.” But she returned to sit beside him, leaning back and closing her eyes again. The birds chittering in the trees above sounded, in the heat of mid-morning, limp and weary. Or possibly that was simply her own tiredness speaking.

  “You must be strong, to carry someone my size repeatedly without tiring immediately,” Fletcher said, causing the birds to go silent for a moment.

  “You are not very big, Captain, you are tall but not heavy, and I have practiced for years lifting increasingly heavy weights so I might be more than a courier.”

  Fletcher laughed quietly. “I am still larger than you.”

  “Most people are.” She thought of Schofeld, his casual laughter mocking her, and wished she were in a position to kick him.

  “That makes you angry.”

  Daphne looked down at her hand, resting near his. “You are not touching me.”

  “I am still capable of reading people’s emotions the traditional way. Your face tightened up as you said that.”

  “Very well, it angers me, but not that I am small—that is not something I can help—just that so often I have been dismissed because of my size and my sex.”

  “There are far too many fools in the world, if that happens to you often.”

  She could not bring herself to look at him, afraid of what she might see. “I resolved to make them regret it by becoming the most famous Bounder ever.”

  Fletcher laughed again. “And how will you achieve that?”

  “Oh, by improving my Skipping time, and learning more essences—if I could be the first Bounder to Bound to an outdoor location, not just Skip there, that would be something!” Surely there was something she might discover about Bounding that would give her the recognition she desired! And then it would not matter if she could not bear the sight of blood; she would be successful on her own terms.

  She stood again, stretching her arms high above her head. “I am ready to proceed, Captain.”

  “If you’re certain…” Fletcher put his arms around her shoulders. “Tell me if you again become tired.”

  “I will, but I consider it unlikely.” Her stomach rumbled embarrassingly loudly. “I will likely need food before I need rest.”

  “I believe we can manage that,” Fletcher said, just before she made her first Skip.

  They visited three more villages before Fletcher asked her to stop. He bartered with an old woman cooking meat on wooden skewers and came away with several, which they ate sitting in the shade of her hut. It was mutton, but juicy and delicious, not at all the boiled grey meat Daphne was accustomed to at Lindsey House. She sucked meat juice off her fingers and laughed at the stories Fletcher told of his explo
its working for the Company. Lighthearted and satisfied, she returned to check on Bess, who was sleeping, then went back to Skipping until, around mid-afternoon, she told Fletcher they had visited every village within the scope of her search.

  “I see,” Fletcher said. He leaned against the bole of a banyan tree and dug a hole in the packed earth of the road with the toe of his boot. “That… is interesting.”

  “I told you I was afraid I had guessed wrong about where they had gone.”

  “I don’t believe you did.” The hole became broader. “Can you return us to the party, or do you need rest?”

  “I am well, Captain, but are we giving up so soon?”

  “We are not giving up at all. But I wish to confer with the others.”

  It took only a few Skips to locate the others, still traveling along the road northward. Daphne appeared near the head of the line, causing Captain Ainsworth’s horse to shy from her. Ainsworth controlled it easily and said, “You’re back earlier than we expected. Did you find them?”

  “No, and that’s the interesting thing about this journey,” Fletcher said. Wright and Phillips drew up nearer and dismounted as Ainsworth did. “I am beginning to suspect there is a reason we have not found our errant friends.”

  “You mean they’re in hiding?” Wright asked.

  “I mean,” said Fletcher, “they don’t exist.”

  Silence fell, in which the mournful cry of some hunting animal echoed across the river. “But that’s impossible,” Ainsworth said. “Everyone in Madhyapatnam saw them.”

  “In fact, no one in Madhyapatnam saw them,” Fletcher said. “Even the woman who believed Lady Daphne was one of them only thought she’d seen them. Upon further questioning, it became clear that she had fooled herself into believing she had seen what others reported. They have not stopped at any of the post-houses, which would be a logical place for them to stay; they have not been seen at any of the nearby towns and villages, which would be logical places for them to preach; and Lady Daphne has not seen any sign of them along the roads. I believe we have been hoaxed, gentlemen, Lady Daphne.”

  “But what would be the point of that?” said Wright.

  “I don’t know.” Fletcher rubbed his chin in thought. “Someone might have wanted us out of the way in Calcutta, but I cannot believe we are so important as to justify such an elaborate hoax.”

  “It need not have been a person,” Ainsworth said. “Resentment at our presence—that is, the presence of Europeans in Madhyapatnam—might have simply built up over time, creating rumors that were readily believed without question.”

  “Except this unrest had a definite beginning, not ten days ago,” Fletcher said. “That speaks to an individual or small group with intent to stir up unrest in Madhyapatnam. Even so, this is hardly the stuff of riots.”

  “Is it not?” Daphne said.

  The men all looked at her as if they’d forgotten she was there. “Madhyapatnam was peaceful when we were there, if you’ll recall,” said Ainsworth.

  “But there was distress, or you would not have been summoned,” Daphne said. “And the woman who accosted me was extremely angry. Suppose there were only no riots because you responded with such alacrity?”

  “Lady Daphne makes a good point,” said Phillips. His diffidence and stammer had vanished. “Most Company officers would have traveled with a large baggage train, full camp kit and whatnot. It took us half the time, traveling rough, to arrive as such an outfit would.”

  “If someone meant to manufacture outrage to end in rioting against Christians—that is something that must build over time,” Fletcher said. “Our early arrival would have cut that short. But whoever it was managed also to spread rumors that the ‘missionaries’ had headed north, to throw us off the scent. That speaks to resources I find unpleasantly extensive.”

  “Then we should return to Madhyapatnam,” said Wright.

  “I made a mistake in sending you on farther,” Fletcher said. “We have wasted time, and it is entirely my fault. Who knows what kind of mischief our adversary might accomplish while we are gone?”

  “And suppose getting us out of Madhyapatnam was the point of that misdirection?” Ainsworth said.

  “I can return you immediately,” Daphne said.

  Once again, she was the focus of several astonished male stares. “But the horses—and the baggage cart—” Phillips said.

  “Oh, the drover can return the cart, and I am certain you can find someone at the post-houses to lead the horses back,” Daphne said, “and if you wish, I can even return with the items of personal baggage you need. It should take no more than an hour, and we will all be back at the Residence for supper.”

  “Astonishing,” Ainsworth breathed. “If you are certain, Lady Daphne—we would not wish to inconvenience you—”

  “It is what I am trained for, and I do not mind a bit,” Daphne asserted. “Now, if you would unload the things you wish returned, and someone will need to erect the Bounding chamber as we are still out of doors, I believe I should Bound ahead to give Sir Rodney warning.” Without another word, she was off.

  It took slightly more than an hour to return the four men and their baggage to the Residence, mainly because Fletcher insisted on her Skipping with him to the next post-house to inform them of the change in plans and to ensure there would be riders capable of returning the horses to Madhyapatnam. The cart-driver looked skeptical as they unloaded boxes and bags, but Fletcher spoke to him at length, coins changed hands, and finally Daphne and Fletcher stood in the road watching the cart and horses amble along toward the next post-house. “I suppose it would make no sense to have them turn around and start back immediately,” Daphne said.

  “No, they would be caught on the road after dark, and better they be comfortable at the post-house overnight and have an extra day’s journey.” Fletcher let out a satisfied breath. “Thank you for saving me from my mistake, Lady Daphne.”

  “It was my pleasure, and anyway it was a natural mistake; anyone might have made it.”

  “And now we must learn who started those rumors, and why.”

  “ ‘We,’ Captain?”

  His lips quirked up in an amused smile. “Your talent has made all the difference in this matter. I would be a fool to forget that.”

  “But I do not speak the language, and the last time I was in the bazaar my appearance nearly started a fight.”

  “You are also observant and quick-thinking. Everything else we will deal with as it comes. Will you help?”

  She felt she might drown in those dark, intense eyes. “Of course, Captain,” she said, accepting his hand without thinking. Fletcher’s smile went from amused to that now-familiar expression of secret pleasure when she touched him, and she said, “Oh, do tell me why you always look that way when we are—when my hand touches yours! I feel as if you are laughing at me!”

  “I assure you, I will never mock you, Lady Daphne,” Fletcher said, his expression back to normal. “I simply enjoy how your emotions match your demeanor.” He withdrew his hand and added, “Shall we return to the Residence?”

  Feeling flustered, she wished she could demur, avoid touching him until her emotions were more in check. But that would give her away as much as physical contact would, so she put her arms around his waist and Bounded them both back, not to the entrance hall, but to the quiet sitting room she associated most closely with him. It was as dim as it ever was, and she released him, regretting that she had no excuse to Bound with him further, angry with herself for feeling that regret.

  “Thank you,” Fletcher said, offering her his arm.

  “No, thank you, Captain, I must—it is dinnertime, and I should not dine in my uniform, Sir Rodney will not—” She Bounded to her bedchamber before she had to find a way to finish that sentence.

  The room was empty. Daphne wearily shucked her uniform and donned a fresh gown, cool and light without the sweat she had raised in transporting four men and their baggage. She would sleep soundly tonight,
no doubt. She draped her uniform over the trunk to let it air out and sat on the edge of her bed. She liked Fletcher, and felt certain he liked her as well, and…

  She stood and straightened the blanket where her sitting had rucked it up a bit. Liking did not have to mean anything. He might be a Discerner, but he was too polite to take advantage of whatever emotions he perceived from her. Even so, she should limit her contact with him. That would be easier for everyone involved. She straightened the blanket one final, unnecessary time, and went down to dinner.

  In which Daphne and Captain Fletcher have a common foe

  he entered the drawing room, Sir Rodney’s preferred chamber for gathering before the evening meal, and stopped abruptly. “Lady Daphne!” Major Schofeld exclaimed. “How good to see you again!”

  “Major Schofeld. What a pleasure,” Daphne managed. She could not help herself; she glanced swiftly at Fletcher. He appeared perfectly at ease, standing on the other side of the room from the major—surely that was no accident. “When did you arrive?”

  “Just after we spoke last,” Sir Rodney said. “Major Schofeld brought sensitive correspondence from Government House, and I insisted he remain for supper. I was unaware you were acquainted, but it makes sense, both of you being Extraordinary Bounders, doesn’t it? And now I believe we should all go in. Lady Daphne, pray let me escort you.”

  Daphne accepted his arm with alacrity, fearing irrationally that she might be forced to endure Major Schofeld’s escort—no, he had offered his arm to Bess, who seemed not at all unhappy about it. Well, Schofeld was handsome enough, if one did not know how he had mocked her. She took her seat on the Resident’s right hand and was pleased and relieved to find Captain Ainsworth on her right. He could not disturb her calm, pleasant as he was.

  “Lady Daphne, I am surprised to find you here,” Schofeld said. He faced her across the table, seated between Bess and Fletcher. “Do you not have duties to the Countess of Loudoun?”

  “I return whenever I am needed, but there was no one else, and I assure you I do not mind it.”