Chapter Twenty-Eight
Eleanor pressed her palms to Phin’s back.
He’d moved so swiftly to protect her that she barely had a moment to register that the other man was free and unbound.
Intensely aware of the tension radiating through the viscount’s body, she rose to her tiptoes to whisper, “I think if he’d intended to do anything untoward, he’d have done it by now. Element of surprise and all.”
Just past Phin’s shoulder, she could see the other man bowing his head in silent acknowledgment.
The viscount’s tone was sharp as he asked, “Why did you remain when you likely could’ve fought your way out of here hours ago? Why allow yourself to be taken in the first place?”
The reply was matter-of-fact. “When I determined the threat was not as I’d suspected. It seemed more valuable to be captured.”
Phin asked, “To what end?”
“That remains unknown.”
Eleanor could tell that Phin still didn’t trust the man or his motives.
But her instincts insisted he was not a danger.
Not to her anyway. If what she suspected was true—if he was a descendant of that long ago assassin, then his story was irrevocably linked to hers.
And to the necklace. He might be the only person with the answers they needed.
The cellar filled with a weighted silence.
Phin’s tension radiated through to her as she stood close behind him, her hand still resting on his taut back.
Then he released a slow breath and turned his head to look at her over his shoulder.
Though his expression was furrowed with concern and suspicion, there was a question in his eyes.
He was asking her what she wished to do.
For some reason, the gesture warmed her. He didn’t have to take her opinion into account. But he did.
She gave a nod.
The corner of his mouth turned upward and admiration sparkled in his eyes. She struggled not to blush. Then he turned back to the man in black. “If you make one false move, you will not make it out of this house alive.”
“I assume nothing less, my lord.”
It was the first time he’d used the title and Eleanor took it as a step in the right direction.
Finally, stepping back from Phin, she turned and opened the door to see the viscount’s manservant standing alert and watchful.
It seemed clear that he’d overheard their discussion as his gaze flew first to meet the viscount’s before sliding with intent concern to the man behind him.
Despite his obvious misgivings, however, he then turned to solemnly lead the way back through the house.
Phin nodded for their former prisoner to follow the servant as he stepped after him.
Passing by Eleanor, he took her hand and tucked her behind him.
Though she appreciated his dedication to protecting her, she didn’t believe it necessary.
She was quite certain the man would not harm her.
He’d already proven he was willing to protect her when he thought Phin’s presence in her garden was a threat.
There was no reason for him to change tactics now.
The viscount’s manservant brought them to a small parlor near the rear of the house. It was a rather stern space, done in dark burgundy with leather chairs and an austere sofa and a full liquor service in the corner. The lights were dimly lit but a fire glowed in the hearth.
Entering the room, Phin glanced to his man, “Some brandy, please, Iago.” Then he gestured toward an armchair as he looked at his guest. “Take a seat.”
The man did so, leaning back in a comfortable posture as he crossed one ankle over the opposite knee, propped his elbows on the armrests, and folded his hands casually across his middle.
His dark eyes followed Phin as he turned back to Eleanor and indicated she should take a seat on the far end of the sofa.
When they were all settled, Iago handed them each a small pour of brandy.
Though it was still quite early in the day and she’d never tried such a potent spirit, her experience being limited to wine and champagne, Eleanor lifted the glass to her nose and took a short sniff.
The fumes briefly made her eyes water and she lowered the glass again.
The room had fallen into a tense silence. Iago stood sentry near the door. Phin sat staring at his unnamed guest, while the Protector shifted his focus equally between Phin and Eleanor.
Once the silence had gone on long enough to start making her feel uncomfortable, Eleanor was compelled to speak, “Now that we’ve decided to try to cooperate with each other, might we have a name? Something to call you?”
The man in black held her querying gaze. There was a short, but intense moment when she couldn’t tell what he’d reply.
Then he lowered his chin a notch and said, “You may call me Aadesh.”
Eleanor offered a nod and a quick smile. “A pleasure to meet you, Aadesh.”
“Before we go any further,” Phin said, “Are there more of you—Protectors—here in London?”
Aadesh appeared to hesitate before he replied, “I have come to these shores alone.”
Eleanor tilted her head at the way he phrased his response.
“I shall take your word for it,” Phin noted casually. “If we’re to become allies in this situation, we’ll have to establish a bit of trust.”
Aadesh gave a deep nod of agreement, his gaze unwavering.
Apparently satisfied, Phin asked, “What can you tell me about the item my friend sent to me?”
A black brow arched. “The thief?”
Instead of taking offense, Phin flashed a quick grin. “If you insist.”
The Protector shifted in his chair, sitting a little straighter. “First, allow me to tell you a tale.” His dark eyes flickered to Eleanor. “It is not a pretty story.”
She gazed steadily back at him, certain she already knew the worst of it.
“Once, long ago, there was a young fisherman who lived in a small village. He aspired to a greater life than the one his humble parents had given him. From the time he was a young boy, he would watch the local maharaja pass by in his finery with his horses and servants and silks and he would wish to be like him. One day, there was an accident in the maharaja’s convoy and the royal prince ended up in the river.
The young fisherman was along the banks, watching as usual, so he was the first to jump in and save this prince from the rapids.
When the maharaja asked him what he would like in reward, his only request was that he be allowed to go with him back to the palace to live there as servant.
He promised he would be loyal and constant and do anything the maharaja required of him.
The maharaja accepted this offer, for who would turn down such a devoted plea to do his bidding.
“The ambitious fisherman was true in his vow and he spent the next years doing anything the maharaja asked of him.
Some things were simple, such as escorting the young prince about his day.
Others were not and our once-humble fisherman learned to set aside his own morals for those of his master.
But he learned a great many things about royal life—politics and deceit.
He acquired silks of his own and a chest of gold that he added to whenever possible.
Yet, he was not content. Now that he had witnessed in intimate detail just how much power and wealth the maharaja possessed, he could not ignore how far below him he still stood.
“And then, there finally came a day when he was called upon to do something of great, superior importance.”
The Protector’s eyes held Eleanor’s. She knew what was coming, yet still she tensed almost painfully.
Her very blood seemed to slow to an icy crawl.
She didn’t realize she’d reach a hand toward Phin, until it was enveloped in his warm fingers.
But she didn’t look away from Aadesh’s intent stare as he continued his tale—his voice resonating with the weight of history and purpose.
“For the young prince he’d once rescued from a raging river, had grown into a man and had been betrothed to a princess of esteemed beauty and grace.
Before the wedding could take place, however, the bride was stolen by another.
A man unworthy of her. In a fury that his son’s beloved had been so sullied and their family so grossly disgraced, the maharaja commanded his faithful servant to commit a heinous act of retribution.
His prize for such a task would be the fortune in gold and jewels he’d find around the lovely bride’s neck.
“The man who had once been a simple fisherman had become so blinded by his greed and selfish desires that he did not hesitate. And when dozens of bodies littered the ground behind him, he clutched his reward in his hand. He returned to the palace, collected the gold he’d managed to save and left the maharaja forever.
He believed himself worthy now of a kingdom of his own.
He traveled for weeks to a distant town, reinvented himself as a nobleman and lived in a grand house with servants and silks and horses. ”
Aadesh’s jaw hardened.
“But in his desperate desire for privilege and wealth, he had forgotten the difference between good and evil.
The humble life his parents had given him had been irrevocably altered by his actions under the maharaja.
His blood had been tainted. His karma unavoidable.
Even as he gained more and more gold and built a bigger and bigger house, he lost so much more.
His precious heirs would all die before reaching adolescence.
The wife he chose for her supreme beauty and nobility hated him with a passion.
And one day, in despair and hatred, his wife could take no more.
She spat upon the ground and tore the necklace he forced her to wear every day from around her neck, tossing it to his feet.
Desperate to save the symbol of his fortune from the dirt, he did not even see her walk away, never to return.
“He wallowed in his anger, cursing the injustice of his fate for years before it finally gave way to an overwhelming grief and eventually to calm understanding. On that day, he left his fine palace and returned to the river where his parents still lived. He shed his silks and redressed in common linens and waded into the water to cast his net. From that moment forward, he began to live the life he’d been destined to.
And eventually, he took a new wife and had two children, a son and a daughter.
Every night he told them of the curse of his wickedness and greed, sharing horrid tales of his past wretchedness and the infinite pain and sorrow he’d wrought upon others.
Then he’d tell them that it was their dharmic duty to ensure the curse of greed he’d fallen under would never touch another.
He insisted that they both vow to protect the world from such selfishness and never allow another to possess that which he believed to symbolize the source of his destruction. ”
Eleanor’s skin buzzed like a swarm of furious honeybees. “The necklace,” she whispered.
Aadesh met her gaze and nodded. “It carries the curse of my ancestor. His greed and his shame. It is the responsibility of my family to protect others from its influence. To protect it from the greed and selfishness of the human heart.”
“I’d always thought the story was just a legend or an exaggeration. A tale to frighten girls into accepting their family’s choice in husband.” Her eyes widened. “But it actually happened.”
Holding her gaze, he nodded solemnly. “It did.”
“And the necklace has remained in your family all these many generations?” Eleanor asked.
“Until now,” he replied sharply, turning to Phin. “Now it is in your hands.” He paused. His stare was dark and intent. “And what will you do with it, my lord?”
Eleanor turned to look at the viscount. His expression was difficult to read. There was a tension in his face that she did not often see. A focus and intensity that unsettled her.
“Tell me what you know of my friend’s involvement.” He said, ignoring the question.
The other man sighed and bobbled his head. “He was working with a man who we’d been watching for some months. A man who’d been asking questions and was getting far too close.”
“What sort of questions?”
“Questions about my family, about a name my ancestor had used only while in the employ of the maharaja. He seemed to know things he shouldn’t. Things he couldn’t possibly…” His jaw tensed and he pinned Phin with a glare. “Your friend was employed as their guide when they arrived in our village.”
Eleanor’s eyes widened as Phin’s narrowed.
“If that is true, I assure you, he had no idea of their intention. Barnaby can often become overly focused upon an interest, to the point of missing vital details or clues of things going on around him, but he is not a cad. If he was helping this man, I’ve no doubt he was fed a lie to do so. ”
“Perhaps,” Aadesh retorted, his tone hard and unforgiving, “but the fact remains the necklace wound up in his possession. And then…was sent to you. I insist you return it to me. Now.”
A heavy silence followed his words. Eleanor tensed in a sort of dreadful anticipation, but Phin did not hold out for long.
“No.”
The shock of that single word rippled through her body. Perhaps feeling it, the viscount squeezed her hand more firmly in his, though his stare remained on Aadesh.
“See,” the other man sneered. “The greed already claims you.”
Phin responded with a quick grin, but he didn’t deny the accusation.
“I will hold onto the piece until I know my friend is safe,” he explained. “Whoever wants the necklace so badly might intend to trade his life for it.”
“He was working for them,” the other man argued.
“Listen,” Phin replied firmly. “I know Barnaby. He’s a good man. It’s very likely he discovered the true thief’s intentions and sent the necklace to me in order to keep it from falling into the wrong hands.”
Aadesh scowled. “Then why would he not simply return it to those it was stolen from in the first place?”
“He may not have had the chance. Especially if his actions were discovered and there were people after him. A likely scenario since my home was broken into within days of receiving the package. No doubt, Barnaby took a precious moment to send it to me under a significant threat to his own life. His brief note suggested as much.” He paused to arch a brow.
“You may end up owing that man your gratitude.”
Aadesh clenched his teeth and narrowed his stare, but did not say anything.
“So, what do we do now?” Eleanor asked. “Lord Waring has the necklace. For the time being, at least. And whoever it was who’d been seeking it and somehow knew more than he should, has followed the necklace to England.”
“Back to England,” Aadesh noted. “The man was British. One of your nobles, in fact.”