Chapter Thirty-Five
‘I just don’t trust him.’
Aster shook her head. She and Nick had been arguing this point for hours. Nick was deeply suspicious about Edward, not least because he wouldn’t say whom he had flown out to India to investigate. Nick was certain that whoever it was, they were also behind their own troubles.
‘Because he won’t share his intel with you? That’s not rational,’ said Aster in exasperation.
‘Well, you know my opinion,’ chimed in Clem. ‘Completely untrustworthy.’
Aster ground her teeth. The three sisters had reunited in their suite and Nick immediately hugged Aster, which they both endured for about two seconds before declaring they had had enough soppy stuff. Clem had unpacked Nick’s evening wear and steamed all three outfits whilst Aster and Nick talked business with Clem adding her opinion every now and then.
‘He is not untrustworthy,’ snapped Aster. ‘He’s just not prepared to reveal his sources or share any intel with us.’ Aster found herself in the strange position of defending a man that she was hardly enamoured with herself, but in this, Nick was determined.
‘But Aster, don’t you see? Someone was undercutting our business. They were responsible for kidnapping our employees and turning them into slaves. We need to know who they are, so that we can move against him.’
‘I know all this.’
‘And yet you’re taking Edward’s side.’
‘How many more times, Nick? I am not taking his side.’
‘How do we even know this wasn’t his enterprise?’ said Clem, applying her mascara and waving the wand for added emphasis.
‘Because he didn’t shoot me. That would be my clue. Really, Clem, this isn’t helping. Edward has his faults, and I appreciate him playing his cards close to his chest must be killing you, Nick. But it doesn’t matter.’
‘You think what this person has done doesn’t matter?’ screeched Clem, but Aster could see that Nick was waiting patiently for her to carry on.
‘It doesn’t matter if Edward isn’t prepared to tell us the name of the man in question because I’ll find out for myself.’
Clem laughed loudly from the dressing table. ‘That’s my girl! When are you going to get started?’
‘I started yesterday.’ Aster smiled at her sisters and was gratified to see the worry dissolve from Nick’s face.
‘Gosh, you’ve had twelve hours and you haven’t found it out yet?’ asked Clem, teasing her little sister.
‘After my last run-in, I’m moving with extreme caution.’
Nick’s relief was complete. Aster stared at her sister and tried to hide the guilt that she had felt at scaring them this week.
‘Well, Clem, now that you’ve made yourself look pretty, shall we go? And Nick, remember your promise.’
‘You can leave as soon you’ve said hello to the High Commissioner.’
‘Perfect. Then let’s go!’
Laughing, the three girls headed down to their limousine.
As the three Hiverton girls stepped out of the hotel lobby to their waiting limousine, they attracted the attention of several passersby. At five foot ten, Nick led the way in one of Clem’s couture creations emphasising her slim build and height. The long black gown was covered in small pearls and mother-of-pearl decorations. Clem had been inspired by the Cockney Kings and Queens and had then created a runway collection that had been fought over by royalty and A-list celebrities. This particular gown she had held back for something special and the need to impress the Indian authorities felt like the perfect occasion. It would attract a lot of publicity and goodwill for the High Commissioner’s gala, for Water Aid, which everyone wanted to support.
Behind Nick came Clem, resplendent in a full-length saree in shades of green and blue, her long red locks pinned up into a topknot and then cascading down her back. The saree had been designed and made by Kavya Verma, an up-and-coming local designer, and Clem was keen to promote her work.
Finally, Aster brought up the rear, wearing a plain black tuxedo gown which Clem had made for her and fit her beautifully. The original version had braiding on the sleeves and lapels, but Aster had begged for even those flourishes to be removed.
Just as they got to the car, Aster surreptitiously stepped to the side where a security guard had left his motorcycle unattended. A second later, she climbed into the limo and they set off.
‘Aster Byrne, where did you get them?’
Nick glared at Aster, who now appeared to be the proud owner of a pair of mirrored sunglasses and a walkie-talkie. Aster smiled sheepishly.
‘What?’
‘You know what.’
‘Just in case there are photographers when we arrive.’
‘There won’t be any photographers,’ said Nick reassuringly, only for Clem to butt in, muttering that there bloody well better be. Nick glared at Clem, but decided not to argue the point. Everyone knew Aster’s aversion to publicity.
‘Just make sure you ditch them before we enter the High Commission.’
‘Deal.’
As the limo finally made it through the traffic, they pulled up into a queue of limos waiting to disgorge their occupants to an awaiting crowd of paparazzi. Aster immediately removed her frock coat and looked at Clem. ‘I don’t suppose you’d carry this for me, would you?’
‘And spoil my outfit? Absolutely not. And neither will Nick.’
Aster turned to Nick. There was no way she was going to have her photo taken with her sisters.
‘Come on, Nick, whoever heard of a security detail carrying a coat?’
‘And go against Clem on a matter of fashion? Have you lost your mind?’
Knowing that the fight was over before it began, Aster folded the tailcoat over her arm and put on the sunglasses. She would make the best of it and pretend that maybe she had a concealed gun under the draped coat. Nick shook her head in despair as the driver opened the door.
Nick stepped out to a barrage of flashbulbs that practically exploded as Clem emerged, followed shortly after by a small security guard in black trousers and a white shirt. She was talking into a walkie-talkie and looking all around, canvassing the crowd. The photographers promptly ignored her and carried on taking photos of the two dazzling women now walking the line and telling photographers who they were and whose clothes they were wearing.
At the top of the steps, beyond the photographers, the smaller bodyguard leant over to one of the security detail and handed them a pair of sunglasses and walkie-talkie. She grinned at them, popped her tailcoat back on and then moved quickly to rejoin her sister, grinning from ear to ear.
‘Happy?’
‘Delighted. Now let’s get on with the torture and then I can go home.’
Having been checked in through security and announced as the Ladies Clementine, Nicoletta and Aster Hiverton, the three girls moved into the throng and began to socialise. Nick was soon engaged in serious conversation, Clem was laughing and chatting to all and sundry and Aster was propping up a pillar. She had been introduced to the High Commissioner ten minutes ago and now waited to catch Nick’s eye and make her escape.
‘Is it possible that I saw you earlier acting as a security guard?’
Aster spun around to look up into Edward’s smiling face. His eyes were sparkling with mirth as he looked down at her leaning against the same pillar.
‘Lady Aster, working as private security? Seems unlikely.’
Edward barked a laugh.
‘Seemed entirely likely to me. Now look, I’ve found something you’d like.’
Handing her a bottle of water with a sealed cap he grabbed her hand and pulled her along with him. ‘Hurry. It’s very special.’
Bemused but happy to be in his presence again, she looked over her shoulder to check that Nick and Clem hadn’t clocked her departure and followed along after him. Tonight, he was in a dinner jacket and was looking every inch a lord. As he wove his way through the ballroom, she tried to see where they were going, but short of jumping up or dodging to the side she couldn’t see past him. As they headed into a corridor, she caught up to him and he smiled down at her.
‘You’ll love this.’
As they got to the next turning, two security agents were standing barring the way further into the residence. They simply nodded their heads as Edward strode past, grinning at Aster conspiratorially. As they reach an elegantly carved mahogany doorway, Edward paused and released Aster’s hand. Opening the door and looking in, he then pushed it open and invited Aster to step inside.
Aster raised an eyebrow, wondering what was so special. Edward was practically beaming with glee. She found his excitement infectious as she stepped into the room and was greeted by the most glorious library she had ever set her eyes on.
She was immediately enveloped by the comforting scent of old books, leather and beeswax. The library, whilst not vast, was impressively large and exquisitely appointed. Dark wooden shelves lined the walls from floor to ceiling, packed with leather-bound volumes in a myriad of muted colours. A massive mahogany table dominated the centre of the room, its polished surface adorned with antique reading lamps casting pools of warm light on open books and scattered papers.
Plush leather armchairs were strategically placed throughout the room, inviting readers to lose themselves in comfort and literature. At the far end, tall windows framed a breathtaking view of Mumbai's skyline, the setting sun casting a fiery glow over the city. Near the fireplace, which boasted an intricately carved mantelpiece, stood several glass-fronted cabinets housing what appeared to be rare first editions and ancient manuscripts. The entire space exuded an air of quiet elegance and centuries of accumulated knowledge.
‘When we were in the nightclub, you said it needed a few bookcases. Was this what you had in mind?’
Aster was laughing and was already exploring the bookcases. Edward headed over to one of the armchairs and pulled out a pack of cards from his pocket.
‘Fancy a rematch?’
‘You want to lose again?’ Aster peeled away from the shelves and came and sat down opposite him. With a grin, Aster watched as Edward shuffled the deck.
‘Guess what?’
He raised an eyebrow, she knew her playful tone was unlike her but she couldn’t wait to tell him about the painting.’
‘How many guesses do I have?’
‘One. But I will give you a clue. It’s about you being really, really wrong.’
He narrowed his eyes and thought for a second.
‘God damn. It’s the painting isn’t it?’ An excited smile began to crease his face.
Aster stared back at him in mock confusion.
‘What painting? Oh, the Raphael?’
Edward’s jaw dropped.
‘Holy Mary!’
‘Amen!’ laughed Aster.
‘But that’s amazing.’ He suddenly groaned. ‘The nuns. God! I nearly lost them a fortune.’
Aster nodded smugly. ‘Indeed.’
As they both started laughing and celebrating, Edward filled Aster’s glass with champagne and then began to deal as he quizzed her all about the restoration. Frustratingly, she had little to tell him. The last few days had been frantic and she hadn’t had time to focus on the painting.
As he dealt, he cleared his throat.
‘About your sisters.’
Aster glared at him. Why did he have to spoil things?
‘I’m not going to apologise for losing my temper, but I am sorry that I hurt you by shouting at them.’
‘I-’ Aster paused. That was a deeply odd apology. ‘The thing is, we all made mistakes. If you were going to tell them off, you should have been shouting at me as well.’
He groaned and ran his fingers through his hair.
‘I know that. I could have throttled you for placing yourself in such a dangerous situation. But mostly I was furious with myself for letting you drive off into the Indian wilds with no more security than a taxi driver.’
‘You’re not responsible for me,’ said Aster, confused. No one was. It was why she had been so angry for upsetting her sisters, they weren’t responsible for her either. It had been her mistake and hers alone. She had failed to properly assess the threat and that was on her. She looked at Edward, trying to understand what he meant.
Edward set the cards down, his eyes meeting Aster's with an intensity that made her breath catch.
‘Aster, you're extraordinary,’ he began, his voice low and earnest. ‘The way you see problems and fix them, it's… it's unlike anything I've ever seen. You're not constrained by laws or conventions, and yet you have this unwavering moral compass to do what’s right. I can’t tell you how much I admire that.’
He leant forward, his gaze never leaving hers. ‘Your fierce intellect, the way you pieced together the muslin mystery, how you derailed the auction - it's all done without a shred of ego. You don't seek praise or recognition. You just do what needs to be done.’
Edward's voice grew softer, filled with admiration. ‘I've seen you risk your own safety to protect others, like when you confronted Marcus Barrie. You exposed him, brought justice to those women, all whilst keeping yourself out of the spotlight. And the way you care for your family, your dedication to the nuns, your commitment to the villagers - it's remarkable.’
He paused, seeming to gather his thoughts. ‘You're a force of nature, Aster. You're brilliant, fearless, and yet so compassionate. The way you handle yourself in any situation, whether it's outsmarting criminals or playing cards on a plane - you're always ten steps ahead of everyone else.’
Aster sat stunned. His words were mortifying, he was describing someone she didn’t recognise and yet she couldn’t stop him. She felt she was in thrall to him, confused and hypnotised. How closely had he been watching her, why was he saying these things? His expression softened, a warmth in his eyes that Aster had never seen before. He opened his mouth to speak again, his voice thick with emotion. ‘Aster, I-’
The door to the library swung open and Aster jerked away from Edward’s face as she looked up to see an English man striding into the room.
‘Found you, you old bugger!’
For a second, Aster saw Edward’s face tighten in fury and then a moment of concern before he leant across the table and bent to kiss her on the neck. As he did so he whispered urgently, ‘ Play along .’ And then he jumped to his feet, turning round to greet the newcomer.
‘Tony! Can’t a man find a quiet corner anywhere, you bloody reprobate?’
Stepping forwards the two men shook hands. The newcomer was in his fifties, but trim. He exuded the sort of confidence that came from unlimited wealth and power. Aster loathed him on sight, but she also recognised him. Her brain began to race as she began to put two and two together. He glanced at her briefly, then ignored her again.
‘Good news. I’ve only managed to bag you a bloody spot on the shoot!’
‘Mate!’ said Edward in a tone that Aster couldn’t reconcile. He had changed from an intelligent, humorous companion to a loud boorish Hooray Henry. ‘The tiger?’
‘Fingers crossed, but no, this will be mostly antelope. But who knows, hey?’
‘Too bloody right,’ laughed Edward, loudly matching the boisterous level of the newcomer. ‘Oh God, where are my manners? Sabrina, this is Anthony Jones, our very own British Foreign Secretary, no less. We are honoured.’ He punched Tony playfully on the arm. ‘And my lovely companion is Sabrina Lecky, part of the trade delegation.’
Aster smiled vapidly at both men and then giggled. ‘I’ve seen you on TV, haven’t I?’ This was going to be her safest approach.
The MP smiled at her benignly. ‘For my sins! Now, where are my manners, interrupting your - conversation?’ He raised an eyebrow and chortled knowingly. Aster silently cursed her flat shoes. A stiletto heel would be most useful at this moment, but she giggled instead and shrugged her shoulders as he continued. ‘Well, I had best leave you.’
‘Don’t be bloody stupid, mate. I want to hear all about this shoot. Sabrina, why don’t you get back to the party?’
Her admiration for Edward had climbed another notch as she considered her new name. Clearly, he also didn’t want the Foreign Secretary to know her true identity. She pouted, but stepped away from Edward and headed to the door. Just as she got to the door, she heard Edward whisper loudly to Tony.
‘Waste of time, mate. Honestly, you saved me from a very tedious mistake. Let me say goodbye properly before she sulks.’
The two men laughed loudly as Tony headed towards a bottle of whisky and some tumblers and Aster opened the door. Edward loped across the room and leant against the doorframe and leant down to kiss Aster’s neck again. At least this time she was prepared for the shock of his lips on her skin, but she still felt a bolt of electricity course through her.
‘Sorry about that,’ he whispered against her neck, ‘I just know how much you want to protect your privacy. See you in London.’
Did he really think she would buy that? That he was simply protecting her privacy. She was going to say something, but he had his back to her, shouting at Tony to pour him a double, and effectively dismissed her.
Heading back through the ballroom, her mind was churning. Across the room, she caught Nick’s eye and waved goodnight. Clem was deep in a throng of party-goers and she would rely on Nick letting her know she was heading back to the hotel.
Hailing a taxi, she slipped onto the back seat, her mind spinning. As much as she wanted to focus on Edward’s lips on her neck and the thrill that had given her, she had bigger fish to fry. His sudden change in personality hadn’t fooled her. She sent Nick a private text. No point alerting Clem, who would go off like a rocket.
- Read my next text in private.
She hit send and then began typing again.