Ainsworth cleared his throat awkwardly. “It’s a pity about Sir Rodney. I’d grown fond of him.”
“We do not know he is dead,” Daphne said, but her words felt hollow, echoing harshly in her ears.
“Better for him if he is,” Fletcher said grimly, and that put an end to that line of conversation.
Bess rubbed her eyes and forehead. “My head aches so, though I feel awful complaining of such a small pain when so many others were wounded grievously. I did not see what happened to Major Schofeld, except that he was taken away by two men. I hope he was not too badly injured. There was so much blood…”
“Let me take you to Lindsey House, Bess,” Daphne said. She glanced at Fletcher, who was studying the floor. She could not imagine any excuse that would leave them alone together, leave her free to tell him everything that was in her heart. “Unless you would prefer… though I cannot imagine where else you might go…”
“Yes, Lindsey House. Thank you, Captain Fletcher, Captain Ainsworth. It has been most enjoyable despite the ending.” Bess smiled and put her arms around Daphne’s shoulders. Daphne cast one last look at Fletcher, then Bounded them both to Lindsey House’s left-hand drawing room. Bess immediately stepped away from Daphne and said, “Do not move, do not say a word.” She flung her head back in the attitude of Speaking to someone.
Daphne, bewildered, did as she was told. Bess’s conversation lasted for perhaps half a minute, during which time Daphne examined the drawing room. It did not appear to have changed in the week and a half since she had Bounded away from it to Madhyapatnam. A few books lay on the table in a manner that suggested someone had finished reading them but had not bothered to put them away. The room still smelled of furniture polish and old sunlight, trapped in the heavy curtains.
“There,” Bess said, lowering her head. “You are to Bound to Government House’s Bounding chamber in one minute. Really, life would be so much easier if I could hear the responses to the communications I make.” She laughed and threw her arms around Daphne. “Oh, I am so pleased for you! Am I permitted to tease you about your inconstancy of resolution, swearing you would not fall in love, or will that simply annoy you?”
“Bess—”
“Very well, I shall refrain, but it is exceptionally difficult. It is just as well we have been under siege, because Captain Fletcher would have driven us all to distraction with his impatience to see you again. Not that anyone but myself knew that is why he was impatient, he is very circumspect, but to me it was clear he could not bear your separation. Do tell me about the zenana! No, there is no time.” She hugged Daphne again, and said, “You must go. We will speak more later.”
Daphne, her head whirling, obediently Bounded to Government House. The still, over-warm confines of the Bounding chamber rose up around her. She could hear nothing but the sound of her own breathing. Tentatively, she opened the door and peered out. The long, windowless hall was empty—no, someone had just turned the corner at the far end.
Fletcher.
She Skipped to meet him, unable to contain herself. He looked worse than she had originally realized, his eyes reddened, his skin black with powder residue, his hair disordered, and he smelled of sweat and black powder, but to her eyes he was utterly beautiful. He regarded her impassively, unsmiling, and her own smile faltered. It was not the way she had pictured their reunion.
“I could not tell Miss Hanley not to send you, as I cannot imagine a place where we might have some privacy,” he said, his voice low, “and perhaps for the sake of your honor that is just as well.”
“I consider myself the keeper of my honor, and I trust you, Captain.” Why would he not smile? She ran through a list of places she knew to Bound to, came to a rather unorthodox one, and said, “Do you trust me?”
He raised his eyebrows. “Of course.”
Daphne put her arms around his waist and waited for him to put his arms around her shoulders. She smiled up at him and was rewarded with the beginnings of the warm, wonderful smile he kept for her alone. She Bounded—
and Fletcher exclaimed in surprise. “Why are we in Jack’s office?” The room was dark, the windows well-shuttered, and it smelled unexpectedly of incense that masked the dank scent that pervaded every Company structure Daphne had ever visited. “I did not know you knew its essence.”
Daphne did not release him. “Well, most of the places I know are either not very private, or are far too private, if you take my meaning, and I did not believe you would be comfortable in any of my bedrooms. And Colonel Dalhousie did imply he meant to be gone for a while.”
Finally, finally, Fletcher laughed, a hearty, amused sound that warmed Daphne’s heart. “Oh, my darling,” he said, “I had nearly convinced myself you were a dream. That you did not love me, that I had imagined it all.”
Daphne took a step closer, and his arms lowered from her shoulders to her waist. “And now?”
Fletcher embraced her, pulling her close so her head rested on his shoulder and he could stroke her hair. “You may be the only real thing in my world,” he said, “and I hope Jack stays away for a year.”
Daphne laughed. “I believe we will have to settle for twenty minutes.”
“You are well? Daphne, when I learned what had happened to you—that I was the cause of it—”
“That is foolish talk, and you will stop that right now. Amitabh’s Mover was the cause of it, and you are not in any way to blame. And I am perfectly well. I will certainly never try that again, though I still believe it might be possible to Bound to a human essence, not to it, of course, but near it—”
“I believe my hair is turning grey just imagining it. Please, promise me you will not be reckless again.”
“I promise to be very careful. I believe there may be a way to experiment without actually Bounding, would that satisfy you?”
“I am coming to learn that protecting you from all harm is a fool’s errand, given that you have spent years becoming the sort of woman who thinks nothing of risking herself to help others.” Fletcher shifted his hold on her so he could look her in the eye. “But you should know I am the sort of man who cannot easily send the woman he loves into danger, if he cannot be by her side.”
“I never want to leave you again.” She remembered General Omberlis, and sorrow and anger touched her heart.
“That was an unexpected emotion,” Fletcher said. “What troubles you?”
“It is just… I still owe the War Office three and a half years of service, and General Omberlis has threatened—I am certain he did not mean it as a threat, but that is—I may be sent back to Spain.”
Fletcher’s arms tightened around her. “Leave India? Surely you are needed here.”
“Not as much as I may be needed there, according to the general. I do not know what to do.”
“It is a difficulty. I could ask to be transferred, but… I am too valuable to the Company, trained as I am in the language and culture here… Daphne, it is too soon to worry about that.”
“I suppose.” She tilted her head. “I love you.”
“I know.”
“I mean that I did not actually say those words, and I thought perhaps I should.”
Fletcher kissed her, his lips lingering on hers. “I will always love hearing them,” he said, kissing her again and making the world spin around her, “but standing here, touching you—what you feel for me fills me to overflowing, and I wish I could share it with you.”
“Kiss me again, and that will be enough,” Daphne said.
Twenty minutes later Daphne Bounded back to her bedroom in Lindsey House and flopped gracelessly onto her bed. How strange life was, and how beautiful. She felt warm inside, and happier than she could ever remember being. They had kissed, and talked, and Daphne had not wanted to leave, she felt so content in her love’s arms, but Colonel Dalhousie could not return and find them there together. “Will he not wonder why you are still so filthy from the battle?” she had asked. “Surely he meant you to take this hour to
clean yourself up.”
“I will have time to change my clothes and wash my face at least,” Fletcher had said. “Jack is accustomed to my eccentricities when it comes to my military service. I once reported to him dressed as a Hindoo beggar and he did not bat an eyelash.”
Now Daphne took the opportunity to change her own clothing, stained with grime and Schofeld’s blood. How might she find out what had happened to him? Surely she had been in time to save his life. She sponged off her face and hands and her shoulder where the blood had leaked through her uniform to her skin, then donned a clean gown and wished as she never had before that someone had bothered to provide her with more than one uniform.
~Daphne?~ Someone knocked on the door.
“Enter, Bess,” Daphne called out.
Bess had found another pair of spectacles and had also changed her clothes and tidied her hair. “So, tell me everything,” she said, taking a seat on the edge of Daphne’s bed. “What happened in the zenana that made Captain Fletcher smile so?”
“It would be indelicate of me to elaborate,” Daphne said primly, then smiled and threw her arms around her friend. “But I am rapturously happy, even if I cannot show it openly.”
“Whyever not? It is not as if he is ineligible. Or—it is rather sudden for a declaration of love, I suppose.”
“Almost no time at all. Bess, he behaves as if he is deeply attached to me, but he has not said anything about… about marriage, or the future. Yet he knows as no one else could how I feel about him.” Daphne released her and drew in a deep breath. “I choose not to dwell on it. My future is still uncertain, anyway. I may be sent back to Spain.”
“But—you cannot!”
“I can, if my service to Lady Loudoun is at an end. She intends to bring her household to India.”
Bess’s lovely mouth drew up in a scowl that with her spectacles made her look positively villainous. “They have need of Bounders in India.”
“General Omberlis says they have a greater need for Bounders on the battlefield.” Daphne sighed. “It is another thing I choose not to dwell on, since I cannot do anything about it.”
“Wise, and I applaud your strength of will.” Bess held up a quelling finger and tilted her head back. Her merry expression gave way to one of dismay. “We are summoned to Lord Moira’s office,” she said with her eyes still closed. “To make our report.”
Daphne heart beat faster. “You do mean ‘we’ as in myself as well?”
“Lord Moira’s Speaker was very clear.” Bess opened her eyes. “Do not fear. You were positively heroic. The Governor-General can have no reason to complain of your service.”
Daphne thought privately the Governor-General needed no reason to complain of her. “Very well,” she said. “Though I was there hardly any time at all.”
“Time enough to rescue us.” Bess arranged her arms around Daphne’s shoulders, and in half a breath they were in the Bounding chamber at Government House. “I have not heard word of Major Schofeld’s condition,” Bess went on, “and I feel great concern for him. I know he offended you, Daphne, but he has performed admirably, brought us news of your condition—he has even been cordial toward Captain Fletcher.”
“I feel I may be able to forgive him, as he has been so penitent, and I believe he meant no harm—though I do not believe one ought to be forgiven the worst of sins simply because one did not mean to commit them. The harm has still been done, after all.” Daphne did wonder about Schofeld’s treatment of Fletcher, though. She had inadvertently told the major the effects of his torment of Fletcher, and had expected him to rather redouble his efforts to hurt him. Cordial toward Fletcher? Perhaps she had misjudged Schofeld, after all.
They climbed the stairs to Lord Moira’s office, ignored by the men in uniform they passed despite their being gowned in their nicest daywear and appearing completely out of place in that bastion of male privilege. Daphne was accustomed to being stared at and felt oddly naked at receiving no attention. She resolved to ignore the officers as well. It was getting on toward noon, and the air grew stiflingly hot as the windows were shuttered against the sunlight. Government House was beautiful, but Daphne wished it had been built with the heat of an Indian climate in mind.
Lord Moira’s door was open. Daphne and Bess entered to find the windows were open, letting bright, hot sunlight into the room. The Governor-General sat behind his desk, facing Fletcher, who had as promised changed into a clean uniform and washed his face, though the shadow of black powder still lingered on the curve of his throat and around his ears. Captain Ainsworth and Ensign Phillips stood behind him, similarly cleaned up and looking rather uncertain. Colonel Dalhousie stood behind Lord Moira and to his left, his face impassive.
In the face of all that military force, Daphne hesitated just inside the door, but Bess kept moving, halting only when the corner of the desk brought her to a stop. “Come in, Lady Daphne, and close the door,” Colonel Dalhousie said. “Captain Fletcher has already told me everything.”
For a moment, Daphne’s heart beat faster before she realized he did not mean her relationship with Fletcher and the kisses they had stolen in Dalhousie’s office. “You are all to be commended for your work, particularly since it took a turn no one could have anticipated,” Dalhousie continued. “Lady Daphne, you did not return before you were fully well, did you?”
“No—that is, yes, I am fully well,” Daphne stammered, conscious of Lord Moira’s baleful eye on her, “but I would have returned anyway, as I could not bear to desert my friends.”
“There is no place for sentimentality in the military,” Lord Moira said. “You would put your fellows in jeopardy by returning when you were not fit for duty, and force them to take special care of you?”
“Lady Daphne’s spirit is laudable, but it leads her to a certain inaccuracy of speech,” Fletcher said. “She could not have Bounded to Madhyapatnam were she not fully recovered. And her performance at Madhyapatnam was exceptional, proving that she was far from a liability. She and the Bounders she brought in rescued everyone left in the Residency and several of its defenders.”
“But not Sir Rodney,” Lord Moira said.
Fletcher was standing with his hands clasped loosely behind his back. Only Daphne saw him close one hand tightly enough that his knuckles went white. “I forbade Lady Daphne to attempt to rescue Sir Rodney, my lord. Criticism for that decision should be on my head.”
“All reports suggest that Sir Rodney was in the thick of the fight, my lord,” Dalhousie said. “It is unlikely anyone could have got through to save him.”
“That sounds like Sir Rodney,” Lord Moira agreed. “Very well. I commend you all for your actions in Madhyapatnam, given that your initial remit went so far astray. It is unfortunate you could not prevent this Amitabh from taking control, but I’m disinclined to criticize after your valiant defense of the Residence. I—Miss Hanley?”
Bess had her head tilted back, but as Lord Moira spoke, she opened her eyes and focused on him. “My lord, I apologize, but I have just received an urgent message concerning Sir Rodney.”
Lord Moira’s eyebrows went up. “Is he not dead?”
“No, my lord. Would you like to receive the message in private?” Bess sounded shaken.
Lord Moira nodded. “All of you are dismissed.”
Daphne followed Fletcher out of the office and crowded with Ainsworth, Phillips, and Dalhousie in the antechamber. She caught Lord Wellesley’s portrait’s eye; it glowered at her much as Lord Moira had done. She glared at it, daring it to take issue with her actions in Madhyapatnam. That had been a grudging commendation, Daphne was sure, at least as far as her own portion of it was concerned. It would not matter that she had overcome her weakness; she would always be a liability to Lord Moira.
“You know the Governor-General is sparing with his praise,” Dalhousie murmured. “As far as I am concerned, every one of you deserves a true commendation for your actions. Lord Moira knows it.”
“We didn’t do
it to be thanked, Jack,” Fletcher replied.
The office door flew open, startling them all with its abruptness. “Lord Moira would like to speak with you. All of you,” Bess said, looking meaningfully at Daphne.
Bewildered, Daphne trailed along at the end of the line and took up her place near the back of the room. Lord Moira had looked irritated before; now he looked positively apoplectic. “Reprehensible,” he was saying to Bess as they entered. “Utterly beyond the pale.” He turned his attention to Dalhousie. “Miss Hanley’s message was relayed to us by Amitabh’s Extraordinary Speaker,” he said. “Sir Rodney was taken alive in the siege. Amitabh refuses to trade for him on any terms.”
“That cannot be all,” Dalhousie said.
“It’s not.” Lord Moira spat out the words as if they were poisoned. “Amitabh intends to demonstrate his superiority over the Honourable Company by executing Sir Rodney tomorrow at dawn.”
In which Captain Fletcher countermands an order
xecute?” Daphne exclaimed, then wished she had not when Lord Moira’s furious eye fell on her. She knew he was not angry with her, but it was hard to bear nonetheless.
“He will cause the people to rise up in his favor if he goes through with it,” Fletcher said. “It is a potent symbol and may well convince them he is destined to rule Madhyapatnam. You cannot permit it.”
“I am aware of that, Captain,” Lord Moira said drily. “And there is the small matter of not permitting a servant of the Company to die in such an ignominious fashion.”
“We are prepared to leave for Madhyapatnam immediately,” Fletcher said, ignoring the Governor-General’s sarcasm. “I will need a few more men, my lord.”
“I dislike having my orders anticipated, Captain.” Lord Moira tapped his fingers on his desktop. “But you are correct. I intend to send you and a few other handpicked men to rescue Sir Rodney. I assume from what Colonel Dalhousie has said about your other missions that you need no more direction than that?”
Abounding Might Page 29