Chapter 21

'Do you not think this dress is far too opulent for me to wear when out on a heist?' Eleanor whispered into the darkness from the bush she was hiding behind.

'This is not a heist. And, it will suit finely for your task at hand,' Nathan whispered back from the bush right next to her. 'Besides, it was your idea to be the distraction. My idea was that you join us in breaking in. You suggested you play the role of the wealthy aristocratic seductress.'

'I suggested it because you wanted me to dress in trousers!' she refuted harshly. 'It is not that I am opposed to the idea of my wearing it for the task. I am opposed because the trousers are extremely uncomfortable. I cannot fathom how you men wear it all day. But I didn't think you'd make me wear such a fine gown for it,' she argued. 'This is very expensive silk. I do not think I have a dress as fine as this.'

'Well, you need just let me know, darling. Buy as many as you want,' Nathan replied, his mind elsewhere. 'There!' he suddenly exclaimed, pointing his hand to the entrance of the run-down manor where men – Indian and British alike – began to exit from. He motioned to his men and began to give them commands in Hindi, commands which flew off the top of Eleanor's head but made most of the men leave the bushes they were hiding in and begin to scour the perimeter leaving behind only Nathan, Ram and five other men with her.

Nathan then turned to her. 'Eleanor, the goons have left. It is just Hadleigh's proxy now. Do you remember the plan?'

Eleanor nodded. 'Yes. Go and knock on the door. Pretend to be lost. Try and get into the building and distract him for as long as it is needed for you to do your work. And then I leave when you give me the signal.'

'Exactly, love,' Nathan said and stroked her cheek lovingly. 'Now, I know you're going to have to attempt to seduce him but please, do not let him touch you.'

Eleanor laughed. 'Are you jealous? Believe me, husband, I will not fall for his wiles.'

Her husband scoffed. 'I am not jealous of him. Nor do I think you will fall for him. But, I am concerned about what he might do to you. Do you have your gun on you?'

Eleanor parted the folds of the skirt of her gown in answer to reveal a huge pocket from which she withdrew her revolver. 'It is right here. I also have a couple daggers in the thigh holsters.'

Nathan's face blanched till it was as white as a ghost. 'You brought along daggers too? You know how to use them?'

Eleanor shrugged and smiled mischievously. 'I may have tricked Ram into teaching me how to throw one earlier this evening. You won't believe how fast a learner I am!'

At that, he shot a dark look towards his right-hand man who had commenced sweating profusely. 'Your Grace, I swear, Her Grace told me you wanted me to. If I had known –'

'Oh, pish posh!' she interrupted. 'I can learn to throw a dagger if I want to without your consent. Leave the poor, innocent man alone.'

Nathan looked like he wanted to argue, and if he was like other men he would have seeing as none of them would have even allowed their wives to learn to use a revolver. And although Eleanor was hesitant with the gun at first, she had learned to some extent and figured learning to throw a knife might not hurt either.

'Alright,' he finally grit out. 'But be careful, the dagger can easily dig into your skin and draw blood.'

Eleanor smiled widely. 'Of course. I'm the most careful person there is!' she remarked easily before shooting Ram a smile which seemed to soothe his tension. The men standing with him must have known English for they began to chuckle at the situation.

'Ready, Eleanor?' Nathan asked for the final time.

Eleanor nodded and shot him, Ram and the other men a small smile before she emerged from her hiding place. Drawing her coat tighter around her person to shield herself from the bitter chill of the night, she approached the front door of the manor, grabbed the knocker and with a deep sigh, hit the door thrice.

She heard no pattering of feet to get the door as one would usually expect that she was half-convinced no one was there. She did not know why she wasn't terrified to death at the moment – if it had been a month ago she was sure she would have fainted before she even made it to the front door! It might have been because she had already been in worse situations the past few weeks that this was secondary. After all, she was merely playing the part of a distracting seductress. Although how she could manage making a high and mighty Englishman – she figured – fall for an Indian, she knew not. A few Englishmen in India were said to have taken Indians for wives so she didn't think her appearance – an Indian in fine British garb – should throw him much off-guard. To be safe, however, she had applied heaps of powder in an effort to lighten her complexion.

The sudden opening of the door shook Eleanor to the core and she was convinced that the shock portrayed on her face – real shock – would sell herself finely to the man habiting the manor.

But if she expected an old man or a rich but ugly merchant to open the door, she was sorely mistaken. The man standing before her was incredibly handsome with brilliant green eyes that could rival nature's green and a mop of dark brown hair that was akin to the rich hues of a healthy tree's bark. And the grin he wore on his face – oh, the grin! – only further made the beholder feel they were standing in front of one of heaven's angels.

More's the pity he works for the wrong side, thought Eleanor.

'May I help you?' he asked, his grin still in place, momentarily making Eleanor forget what she was there for (and that she had a husband she loved).

'Yes, please,' she finally got out, putting on a pained and worried expression on her face. 'I seem to have lost myself out here. My carriage broke down on the road a little while from here, I think, and my footman went searching for help. Silly me, I thought I could walk around till he came back but I must have strayed too far from the path for now...now, I am hopelessly lost.'

The handsome man laughed merrily before standing aside. 'Please, come in and warm yourself. I've heard the nights here are chilly although I've yet to experience it myself.'

'Oh no,' Eleanor said. 'I don't wish to be a nuisance. If you could just instruct me as to how to get back to the main road, I would be grateful.'

In truth Eleanor wished the man would leave the house giving Nathan and the others free rein to search it in peace. But, she was sure they had already made their way inside by now and had started ransacking the place.

'Nonsense!' the man argued. 'You will be no nuisance. I shall walk you there myself,' he said before stepping out of the house and closing the door behind him and locking it, to Eleanor's great delight. A locked front door was of no consequence when they had a multitude of tools to help them break in.

And so, the spider enticed the fly, she thought.

'Oh no, kind sir, I couldn't possibly bother you,' she said again, this time making sure to make herself sound half-hearted and inviting. As a last resort, she even added a small smile.

The man laughed and shook his head. 'A gentleman cannot allow a lady such as yourself to walk unaccompanied at night. It is unbecoming!'

'Well, if you really do insist,' she said hesitantly.

'Oh, I really do,' he said and held out an arm. 'Shall we?' He picked up an oil lamp from a table on the porch.

Eleanor smiled, took his arm in reply and let him lead the way. They walked under the forest trees in silence, listening to the crickets chirp, the light from the lamp the only thing lighting the path in front of them. Eleanor took the time to study him. It was only now that she realised that the man wore fine clothing – very fine aristocratic clothing. He walked with surety and confidence – traits Eleanor had grown to realise were key features of aristocrats – especially men. She had seen her father walk with the same gait and every day she saw it in Nathan too. A slight tilt of the head upwards, the determined set of the face – they weren't all that noticeable unless one looked very hard. And Eleanor looked hard at the man now and knew for sure that this man was nobility. Why a nobleman was helping out Hadleigh, however, she had no idea.

'Forgive me for asking,' the man suddenly said, interrupting Eleanor's scrutiny.

'Yes?'

'This is horribly rude of me but...are you not Her Grace, the Duchess of Wolverhampton?'

The sudden declaration threw Eleanor off guard and she stumbled in her steps. The man, however being a proper gentleman, caught her from falling, revealing her gun pocket between the folds of her gown. He didn't seem to see it however and she hurried to cover it, still distraught at the fact he knew who she was. She had stumbled over nothing when he said it and her face had most probably become ashen so she knew there would be no pointing in denying her identity. But it made the whole situation much harder than it should have been.

'How do you –'

'– know who you are?' he asked, smiling. 'It is common knowledge that the Duke married Salford's daughter and everyone does know that Salford's daughter was adopted from India. I also happen to know that Wolverhampton has business here in India and that he and his wife had arrived. It was an educated guess that you are, indeed, Lady Eleanor Huntington.'

Eleanor's heart beat furiously and her hands were beginning to get clammy. This man knew them! This was terrible. Maybe she should have stuck with Nathan's idea instead and dress like a man. Then, she wouldn't have been caught in this dreadfully uncomfortable situation.

She laughed to cover up her uneasiness and resumed walking, the man following her a few moments later.

'I'm sorry for being rude, Your Grace,' he said. 'It was not a wise move on my part to...declare it so callously.'

'No, it is alright,' she said softly. 'But since you know who I am, do you not think it is fair I know who you are too?'

'Of course, Your Grace. I am the Marquess Gresham. Mathew Gresham.'

The name sounded familiar but she couldn't quite put a finger on where she had heard it. She decided to dig deeper and confer with Nathan later. Since he was a marquis, chances were Nathan would know who he was.

'It is a pleasure to meet you, my lord,' she said, bowing her head slightly.

He bowed back. 'Likewise, Your Grace.'

They came to a sudden stop and Eleanor saw they had arrived at their destination. A carriage stood by the side of the road, strategically placed there by Nathan for proof that she had lost her way. The coachman wasn't anywhere in sight – another well-thought-out scheme – and one of the carriage's wheel spokes was broken beyond repair.

'Your Grace, if I could go back to my place I believe I have the tools to mend the wheel,' Gresham said.

Alarmed at his offer to do it for her, by going back to the manor where Nathan and the rest of the insurgents were, Eleanor quickly declined. 'Oh no, I am sure the coachman will be back soon. Why, there he is now!' she said, spotting one of the Indian boys who was supposed to be searching the manor and was now jogging up to the two of them.

'Your Grace,' the man said in a thick accent, bowing low. 'I am to escort you back to the house. His Grace has told me he will send for someone to retrieve the carriage.'

'Oh, marvellous, boy!' Eleanor exclaimed, clapping her hands together and turning to Gresham. 'You need not help me, I will be absolutely fine as you can see.'

Gresham seemed hesitant and glanced back and forth down the road cautiously. 'Are you sure, Your Grace? It seems unwise to take the word of a mere local boy.'

And it is even more unwise to trust you to help me or even be near me.

'Oh, nonsense!' she said, laughing. 'His Grace trusted him to be my coachman and so, I trust him. I shall leave with him.' She bowed her head slightly. 'I bid you adieu, Lord Gresham.'

He bowed low before straightening and flashing her his pearly smile. 'And I, you, Your Grace.'

He left after that and Eleanor watched as he walked back into the haunting darkness of the woods. When he had vanished from sight, the boy spoke. 'His Grace will be arriving shortly, Your Grace. He asked that I accompany you back to the manor.'

'Will he be very long?' she asked, frowning. 'Why cannot we wait for him?'

He shook his head. 'I am only the messenger, Your Grace.'

Eleanor sighed. Nathan was a man, stubborn in his ways and she knew that he wouldn't have asked her to go back unless it had been urgent.

She was also slightly disappointed she could not use her gun or daggers. Her skills had been improving greatly.

Not that she wished to do it for the want of harming a person. She merely wanted a reason to show that she was decently skilled with a revolver.

She started to walk down the road, the boy behind her following, keeping the minimum amount of space required between a noblewoman and a lowly coachman with only the moonlight to guide the path ahead of them.

When she suddenly thought about it, the whole idea was ghastly. Nathan and she were trying to help the Indians escape from the clutches of the dominating British Crown and here they were, still treating them as inferior.

And how ironic was it that she herself was Indian! And she treated her countrymen so! They had to stand side by side if they were going to win and currently, the passion and vigour with which she wanted to be on the winning side was tenfold, making her want to ask the boy to walk right beside her.

She turned back to tell him exactly that when she noticed a commotion. From the trees emerged Nathans men with Nathan himself at the forefront, running as if their lives depended on it.

She had a strong inkling that it did.

'Bhaag!' Nathan screamed, his voice resonating loudly in the previous silence. 'Jaldi se bhaag!'

At his command, the pace with which the men ran increased and her 'coachman' also began running, leaving her alone. Eleanor, however, stood rooted to the spot, not understanding what was happening and especially not the language.

But what she did understand and notice was that Nathan was in great danger, for a group of local men wearing peasants' shirts were running after him and the others and that one angry local carrying a huge pickaxe was dangerously close to chopping of her husband's head.

Without a moment's hesitation, Eleanor did the only thing she could. She parted the folds of her emerald gown, drew her revolver from the pocket, aimed and fired.

A howling wail sliced through the air and the man dropped to the ground, clutching his leg. Eleanor's heart soared and she sighed in relief. She had done it! She had managed to shoot a bullet clean into the man's leg without causing serious injury.

The enemies didn't stop to help their comrade who still lay on the ground but continued to charge at Nathan and his men. But they had reached where she stood tucking the gun back into its hiding place now and Nathan grabbed her hand and pulled her after him.

They ran wildly for a few minutes not saying a word to each other but racing the trees. Eleanor, however, was still on a high. The fact that she managed to save the man standing beside her when he was in grave danger made her ridiculously proud of herself. She had never felt the fear she had felt when she saw the blade of the pickaxe right above his head. And she knew without a doubt that if she had missed and Nathan lay cold, dead and bled out on the forest floor, she would have been inconsolable. She was falling deeper and deeper in love with her husband that it was too much to bear.

Whether that was a good or bad thing, was, however, the big question.

When at last, they emerged into the streets of Bombay where people milled about in dozens, they slowed their pace and got into an awaiting carriage in haste. The moment the door closed and all eyes were off of them, Nathan wasted no time in gathering her into his arms and kissing her senseless.

'You shot someone!' he exclaimed in between kisses. 'I saw the whole thing! There was a pickaxe coming at my head and I was near death and you shot someone for me!'

Eleanor laughed and pulled away from the astonished man on whose lap she sat. 'Of course, why wouldn't I try to save you? You're my husband and I love you.'

Nathan lips widened into a full smile at her declaration and he hugged her tight to him before speaking into her hair, 'And I love you, darling wife.'

And she couldn't be any happier.