Courting Trouble (4 page)

Chapter Four

“We must be cautious.” Jed held Esme’s chair, seating her carefully before sitting beside her at the small table on the veranda of the Chai House.

He hadn’t expected to see her in Bombaytown, but now that he had, he was committed to last night’s plan. It was doubtless unchivalrous of him, but the devastation in her eyes when she thought he’d betrayed her with another woman had set his heart singing. It reassured him that he was important to her. Now, if only his plan worked as well, he would show her that she had his respect and that he could,
would,
allow her to face danger with him—as long as she never learned that he considered the danger to be nonexistent.

The Chai House was a Bombaytown institution, the place to see and be seen, with Indians and Europeans mingling easily. Lazy ceiling fans were idle yet. They’d come into their own in summer’s heat. Intricately carved screens provided an illusion of privacy for the tables inside, and carved statues of mischievous monkeys guarded the conversations.

He’d chosen to sit outside. This early in the day, the west-facing veranda was empty of guests and potential eavesdroppers. It looked across white sand dunes held in place by tough sea grass and then to the endless blue of the Indian Ocean and the wide cloudless sky.

“I would like cakes with my chai,” Lajli announced.

The waiter took their order with a smile, a friendly greeting for Esme and a curious glance at Gupta’s nervous face.

Jed suffered a pang of conscience at the young man’s worried expression. Lajli treated his dark murmurings as a lark, but Gupta believed every word.

Hopefully, the boy would one day understand this was for the greater good—that is, for restoring Jed to Esme’s esteem.
All’s fair in love and war
—and with Esme, he had both the passion and the war of the sexes.

He brought her up to date on Lajli’s theft, the man who followed her to Swan River, and the papers.

“Why bring the papers to you?” Esme stripped off her gloves.

The waiter brought two plates of cakes and their cups of chai.

“I suspect because I’m an inventor and the papers are blueprints and notes,” Jed said. “Written in an abysmal scrawl.”

“Ah.” She sipped her chai.

Lajli was already halfway through a green-tinted cake of shredded coconut. Jed tasted his own chai. The sweet, milky tea spiced with cardamom, cinnamon and who-knew-what wasn’t as good as a hot, bitter coffee, but it would have to do. He was tired after a nearly sleepless night.

On the other hand, Esme was sitting beside him, listening intently and not giving him the cold shoulder. It was worth the sleepless night of planning and scheming.

“What do the papers s-say?” Gupta demanded.

“They describe a device to shatter objects using sound waves. Built to the dimensions in the blueprints, it would be more powerful than Nobel’s explosive dynamite.”

Lajli broke the appalled silence. “I told you the papers were bad.”

“Very bad, if they’re true.” Jed watched Esme’s expression. The device couldn’t be anywhere near as powerful as the notes suggested. But the notes were a handy tool to lure in his wary suffragette prey. “I wish I knew more about the physics of sound. As it is, I must study up. I need to know if the principles of the device are feasible and not a monster’s dream. He called it Kali’s Scream.”

“Kali’s Scream?” Esme put down her cup. “Kali is an Indian goddess, Lord Shiva’s wife. Gupta and Lajli can explain the intricacies of Hindu belief better than I can, but I know Indians call Kali the Destroyer. She dances on the battlefield and threatens the order and stability of life.”

Jed released a long sigh. “Well, that’s appropriate to the sort of devastation the device is hypothetically capable of. Lajli, I must know the full story of who you stole the wallet from.”

“My employers.”

“Yes.” He held on to his patience. “I need to know who they are, because there was more than a plan for building Kali’s Scream in the packet of papers. There was some talk of using it. The notes discuss methods for making Kali’s Scream resemble a rich man’s toy. Then they go on to mention the planned royal visit of the Prince of Wales to India.”

A seagull flew low over the dunes, and sunlight glinted off the silver tips of its wings. It shrieked its mournful, lost-soul cry.

“No.” Esme’s eyes met his.

He tipped his head, satisfied that he had her complete engagement. “It’s possible. The sonic amplifier is a deceptively simple device—if the blueprints are to be trusted. Given as a gift…when the prince wound it up, the vibrations of the unnatural music would bring the walls of the palace down around him.”

“He’d be killed,” Esme said. “And everyone with him.”

“More. The British Raj would seek vengeance.” Gupta stared at Jed. “They would kill and kill for the insult. The blood that stains Indian soil. It would be worse than the 1857 Mutiny.”

“And here in Swan River…we’re not perfect, but there is respect, engagement with the Indian community and its traditions. Like with the Diwali celebrations. If Indian anarchists were to kill the prince, they’d light a powder keg of civil violence against all Indians.” Esme was appalled. “I can’t—won’t—let that happen to my friends.”

Lajli pushed away her second cake, half-eaten. “Very bad.”

“You!” Gupta turned on her. “You stole this.”

“Easy,” Jed said. “The notes give only hints of such a plan. We don’t even know if the device works. If it does, Lajli’s theft may have given us a chance to prevent a tragedy. I need to know everything of how she came by the wallet.”

“Yes.” She straightened in her chair. “I tell you. I am a thief. That is the family’s honor. We are good thieves, clever. Auntie Abha, she married Gupta’s father and took his family’s honor. They are traders. She is very honest now—or as honest as traders can be.”

Gupta shifted restlessly, but a look from Jed kept him from interrupting.

“Three babus, they moved into a house near where my family lives, just far enough away that they, strangers, would not know what I am. I got a job as a maid. Busy, busy, because they very messy babus.”

“Babus?” Jed queried. Lajli’s tone of voice had indicated it wasn’t a compliment.

“Indian men educated in the European system,” Esme said. “They are educated, capable and yet denied the position and power of their abilities because they are Indian, not Anglo. It is a terrible waste.”

“Nobody likes them,” Lajli said. “They want to be pukka sahibs, but they are
babus.
”

“I r-respect them.” Gupta tugged at the sleeves of his jacket, tailored in imitation of Jed’s. “They are learned men.”

“Go on,” Jed said.

“The babus were all talk, talk, talk and meetings. One had a room I was not to enter. No cleaning ever. He said it was dangerous because of things he made in there. I slipped in one night. It did not look dangerous, but it was dirty and smelly with oil and the guts of machines everywhere. I was glad I did not have to clean it.”

“More chai?” The waiter hovered.

“Yes, please, Tukaram.” Esme found a smile for him.

He took their empty cups inside.

“Then eight days after I joined the house as a maid, agents of the British Raj raided it.” Lajli nodded, gratified by her audience’s riveted attention. “They took away two of the babus. The one who had the locked room, whispers in the market said he died on the way to prison.” She shivered. “The other babu, I do not know what happened to him.”

“And the third babu?” Jed asked.

“He is the one who arrived here in Swan River, yesterday. He is Nazim.”

“Your chai.” The waiter bustled cheerfully. “It is a good day, yes? Not many clouds. Much sunshine. Good for flowers. Diwali will be lovely this year.”

After he returned inside, Lajli curled her hands around her cup of chai. For the first time she looked young and scared, defenseless.

Jed suffered a pang of conscience. He would do his best to wind up this little adventure in time for them all to enjoy Diwali.

“Nazim is a bad man,” Lajli continued. “He was the boss of the other babus and of all the men who visited the house. He told everyone what to do.”

“Did the agents of the Raj question you?” Esme asked.

“No, miss.”

“Esme.”

“Esme, yes. They did not question me because I was not there. When the police whistles blew, I slipped away.”

“Typical,” Gupta said.

“Yes, I have a talent for it. I am a good thief. I used the noise and panic to lift Nazim’s wallet and take it with me. All he wanted was to get into the locked room. I heard him smashing something in there.”

“Destroying evidence.” Jed watched a skimmer boat vanish over the horizon. “And now he is after you because he suspects you stole his wallet.”

Esme traced jagged patterns on the white tablecloth with her spoon. “A raid by agents of the Raj suggests Lajli’s former employers are known for their anti-British sentiments. This Nazim will be desperate to recover the blueprints for Kali’s Scream.” She dropped the spoon. “Jed, we have to keep Lajli safe.”

“That is not easy.” Gupta sighed deeply.

“Nonsense. Lajli shall come and stay with me. She will be safe in my home.”

“No,” Jed said. Heaven only knew what Lajli’s presence in the house would do to his courtship of Esme. The girl was trouble.

“It won’t be for long,” Esme soothed. “Just until we sort things out.” She began ticking off points. “The authorities must be alerted regarding Nazim’s presence in the colony. Clearly, the agents of the Raj want him. They can have him.”

“If they can catch him,” Gupta said gloomily.

“And if they’re willing to take Lajli’s word as to his identity.” Jed raised an eyebrow at Esme. “To put it bluntly, she’s a thief, and even if the police here aren’t aware of her light-fingered habits, who do you think they will believe? A girl or an educated man?”

“I won’t talk to the police.” Lajli folded her arms. “No.”

“We will vouch for you,” Esme assured her.

“It could easily go wrong.” Jed’s scheme to work closely with Esme, to show her he trusted her with danger, wouldn’t bear close official scrutiny. “A device such as Kali’s Scream sounds fanciful, but the police know where they stand with the theft of a wallet. They’re quite likely to settle for arresting Lajli.”

“What about the notes mentioning the prince?” Esme objected.

“They lack concrete dates and times, and the names of people involved. Coupled with a strange new device such as a sonic amplifier, I fear the police would dismiss them as evidence.” He forestalled Esme’s protest. “We can force them to take the matter seriously by proving the device works.”

Her forehead wrinkled as she considered his argument.

“The prince visits India in three months,” Gupta said. “It is in all the newspapers.”

“Which means we have a short time.” Jed set his chai cup down with a click. “I’ll get started on building the prototype immediately. Lajli needs a safe place to hide.”

“My house.”

“Sweetheart,” Jed said, “I was thinking of a nice long boat ride. She’d be safe at sea and she could stay there till the situation was settled.”

“Me, I get seasick,” Lajli stated.

“But you’d be safe.”

“She would be safe in my house, too. Jed, you know Father built the house to be secure. Plus there are servants around all the time. I’ll borrow Owens’s hellhound from the sanctuary, and it can patrol the grounds. I have a pistol and I can teach Lajli how to fire one, too.”

Gupta looked alarmed.

“And if you’re still not satisfied we’ll be safe, Jed, then you can move in, too!”

“Thereby adding scandal to our other problems. Esme—” He bit off the plea to be reasonable that had got him into trouble yesterday. He drew a deep breath. It seemed she’d forgiven him, and that was the whole point of this scheme. He’d be a fool, indeed, if he ruined it by losing his temper. Owens, the surly manager of the animal sanctuary Esme funded, and his monstrous dog could defend Fort Knox, but that wasn’t the point.

Dammit all. The idea had been to give Esme an adventure with little danger attached, but what kind of man was Nazim? Lajli could be tangled up in anything. Harboring the impudent thief would put Esme in danger—and would definitely endanger her reputation.

“I’ll be busy. I can’t afford the time away from my workshop to guard you.”

Her lush lips thinned at the inference she couldn’t protect herself and half the world. “You can build the prototype at my house.”

“No.”

“No, no, no,” she mocked him, impatient and derisive.

He flattened both hands on the table. “Lajli cannot stay in your house.” And when her chin went up mutinously, he reached for arguments. In all conscience, he couldn’t allow her to harbor a thief. Besides, she had to see things from his perspective—or what she assumed was his perspective. “Hellfire, Esme. I could use your help examining the papers and researching the physics of sound to assess the threat to the prince, but I want you safe. You’re important to me, and that makes you my weak point. If I am to investigate this matter—if
we
are to investigate it—you must stay safe.”

Gupta wriggled uncomfortably and tugged at his tie.

Lajli leaned forward, fascinated.

Esme raised her brows and her voice. “Your
weak point?
Jed Reeve, that is an unfair argument. I am part of this, and partners don’t push other partners aside. Claiming that worry for me would distract you is contemptible.”

“It’s the truth. Do you have any idea how much I worry about you? Signing up for crazy dirigible flying lessons. Riding around the colony in outrageous bloomers.”

She gasped. “My bloomers are perfectly respectable, and I’ll thank you not to mention them in mixed company.”

“Uh, I m-must…” Gupta pushed back his chair, intent on escape.

“Wait,” Jed ordered.

The young man subsided reluctantly.

Esme, contrarily, stood and gathered her gloves, slapping them together. “You’ve made it clear you don’t require my assistance in this matter, so I’m leaving. Lajli, if you need sanctuary, you are welcome in my home. Gupta, goodbye.”