Chapter Twenty-Five
The moment they stepped off the plane in Kolkata, Aster was assaulted by a wall of humid air, thick with the scent of spices, diesel fumes, and humanity. The stark contrast between the artificial chill of the aircraft cabin and the oppressive heat of the Indian summer was jarring. As they made their way through Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose International Airport, the cacophony of voices in a dozen languages, blaring announcements, and the incessant rumble of rolling luggage threatened to overwhelm her senses.
The airport bustled with a chaotic energy unique to India. Families with mountains of luggage jostled for space alongside backpackers and businessmen. Bright sarees and kurtas mingled with Western attire, creating a vibrant tapestry of colour against the sterile airport backdrop.
Edward’s hand hovered near the small of her back, not quite touching but guiding, nonetheless. Aster bristled at the presumption. She turned and glared up at him.
‘I am capable of walking through an airport by myself you know.’
‘I have no doubt, but I can’t help myself. You bring out the overbearing bear in me. I just don’t want to see you get knocked about, this place is heaving.’ At that moment, a family laden with a small train of suitcases barged between the pair of them, flapping their arms at Aster to get out of their way. Edward stepped into the middle of their procession. Grabbing Aster, he moved her quickly to his side.
‘See? If you stand still in here, you’ll get run over.’
At the immigration desk, Edward leant in close, his breath warm against her ear. ‘Follow my lead.’
Before she could protest, he was striding forward again, his bearing regal and commanding. He approached an official, speaking in rapid-fire Hindi. To Aster’s astonishment, the official nodded deferentially, ushering them towards a separate, blessedly empty queue.
As they emerged into the baggage claim area, Edward smoothly manoeuvred Aster towards a man holding a sign with ‘Lady Aster’ written on it. The driver stood out in his crisp white kurta, a stark contrast to the colourful chaos around them.
‘Well, I think that’s you, Lady Aster,’ Edward said to Aster, nodding towards the sign. Then he began speaking to the driver in fluent Hindi.
‘ If Lady Aster gets into any trouble, call me immediately, ’ Edward instructed. ‘ You’ll stay with her for four days and keep an eye on her. I’ll pay the bill. ’
Aster’s eyebrows shot up as she understood every word. She felt a flash of annoyance at Edward’s high-handedness. Who did he think he was, arranging a babysitter for her? She debated whether to reveal that she had understood his instructions, but before she could decide, Edward turned to her.
‘This is Nikhil. I’ve asked the driver to stay with you for the next four days,’ he said, his expression earnest. ‘He’ll be available whenever you need him, and I’ve taken care of the payment. If you run into any trouble, he’ll contact me right away.’
She was impressed that he had been honest about what he said to the driver, but still.
‘Edward, I appreciate the thought, but this is completely unnecessary,’ she protested, her voice sharp. ‘I’m more than capable of handling myself in Kolkata. I don’t need a babysitter.’
Edward’s expression softened, but his eyes remained resolute. ‘Aster, please. This isn’t about your capabilities. I will always protect you. I feel responsible for your safety.’
His words hit her like a physical force, causing her to take a step back. ‘You’re not responsible for me,’ she countered, but her voice lacked its usual conviction.
‘Perhaps not,’ Edward conceded, ‘but I can’t help feeling that way. Truthfully, I’d prefer to accompany you myself, but I have business I can’t avoid.’
Aster felt her breath catch in her throat. The intensity of his gaze, the earnestness in his voice – it was all too much. She felt shaken, off-balance in a way she wasn’t accustomed to.
Before she could respond, Edward leant in. His lips brushed her cheek in a whisper of a kiss, sending an unexpected shiver down her spine. He pulled back slightly, his eyes locked on hers, filled with an emotion Aster couldn’t quite name.
‘Stay safe,’ he murmured, his voice low and intimate.
Then, without waiting for her reply, he turned and walked away, quickly disappearing into the bustling crowd of the airport.
Aster stood rooted to the spot, her cheek tingling where his lips had touched. She felt dizzy, overwhelmed by the whirlwind of emotions Edward’s words and actions had stirred up.
Shaking off her daze, Aster turned to the driver, a mischievous glint in her eye. In fluent Bengali, she quipped, ‘ Are you waiting for your mother’s permission, or can we leave? ’
Nikhil’s eyes widened in surprise, then crinkled with delight. ‘ You speak Bengali! ’ he exclaimed, clearly pleased.
‘ Yes. ’ Aster nodded, smiling. Then, her tone turning more serious, she continued, ‘I speak both Hindi and Bengali, but I thought you might pay more attention to your own mother tongue. Now, listen, I appreciate your offer to stay with me, but it’s not necessary. Could you just drop me off and perhaps recommend a reliable driver for my return journey? And… let’s keep this between us, shall we? No need to inform Edward.’
The driver hesitated for a moment, then nodded, a conspiratorial smile on his face. ‘Alright, madam. I know just the person for your return trip.’
As soon as the car pulled out of the airport, Aster got on the phone to Nick.
‘Landed safely?’
‘Yes, all fine, although something odd happened. Edward Montclair is part of the delegation and was sitting next to me on the flight.’
There was a moment of silence on the other end and Aster knew that Nick was drawing the same conclusions she had.
‘That doesn’t feel like a coincidence.’
‘Agreed. Could you look into it?’
‘I’ll call you back.’
Hanging up, she settled back in her seat. It was a two-hour drive to the village, watching the bustling streets of Kolkata give way to lush countryside. The leather seats of the car were cool under the air conditioning and Aster smiled contentedly. The landscape transformed before her eyes, a kaleidoscope of life and colour. Ramshackle shops and crowded apartment blocks gradually thinned out, replaced by verdant rice paddies stretching to the horizon.
The air grew thicker with humidity, carrying the scent of earth, growing things, and the occasional whiff of smoke from distant cooking fires. Vibrant splashes of colour punctuated the green expanse - women in jewel-toned sarees working in the fields, their bangles catching the sunlight as they moved. As the heat encroached, Aster reluctantly closed her window.
As they passed through small villages, life unfolded in vivid tableaux. Ancient banyan trees provided shade for impromptu gatherings of elders. Chai wallahs did brisk business, their tiny stalls a hub of activity and gossip.
The road itself was a microcosm of Indian traffic - lumbering lorries festooned with marigolds shared space with rickshaws, motorcycles laden with improbable loads, and the occasional wandering cow, sacred and unperturbed by the surrounding chaos.
With each passing mile, the air grew heavier, saturated with moisture from unseen rivers and ponds. The vegetation became more lush, almost jungle-like in its profusion. Banana trees lined the roadside, their broad leaves creating a natural canopy. In the distance, Aster could make out the hazy outline of low hills, shrouded in a bluish mist.
Her mind, however, kept drifting back to Edward. His insistence on protecting her, the intensity in his eyes, the whisper of his lips on her cheek – it all left her feeling off-balance. She wasn’t used to this, to someone caring so deeply about her safety. It was… unsettling.
Her phone rang and she answered before the second ring.
‘Found anything?’
‘Bits and bobs. Seems His Grace is not quite what he appears to be.’
‘Peer of the realm, rich socialite and general good time guy?’
‘Exactly, as well as all that and holding various titles, he appears to work for the government from time to time.’
‘Yes. I know that. I just told you he was part of the delegation.’
‘On paper he is,’ said Nick dismissively, ‘but this jaunt is a party political one and your Edward doesn’t seem to be involved in that sort of politics. As far as I can see, he has links to MI6 and other government agencies.’
‘Oh.’
‘Oh, indeed. I couldn’t get far. Firewalls and the like. But I made a few phone calls.’
‘Gut feeling?’
‘Don’t trust him. I don’t know why he’s in India and I don’t know if it has anything to do with you or our business. But as a coincidence, I’m not buying it.’
The car jolted over a pothole, jarring Aster from her thoughts. She hung up, promising to keep Nick updated. She shook her head, annoyed with herself for dwelling on Edward when she had work to do. The mystery of the counterfeit muslin waited for no one, least of all for her confused feelings about a man she barely knew. But damn it, his appearance presented a thousand red flags.
As they passed through a small village, children ran alongside the car, waving and laughing. Aster waved back, a smile tugging at her lips despite her tumultuous thoughts. This was why she was here – to protect the livelihoods of people like these, to ensure the legacy of their craft wasn’t stolen or cheapened.
With renewed determination, Aster pushed thoughts of Edward aside. She had a job to do, a mystery to solve. Whatever was happening between her and Edward – if indeed anything was happening at all – it could wait. For now, she had bigger fish to fry.
The car wound its way deeper into the countryside. Aster leant forward, eager for her first glimpse of the village where it all began. The landscape had become a tapestry of tiny fields, each a different shade of green, separated by low earthen bunds. In the distance, she could see the silhouette of what looked like an old temple, its spire reaching towards the cloudless sky.
Whatever secrets lay hidden here, amidst this timeless landscape of rural Bengal, Aster was ready to uncover them. The car bumped along the increasingly narrow road, and she felt a thrill of anticipation.