‘What do you think they will do?’ I asked in a voice that, for some unfathomable reason, sounded teasing.
‘Sound the alarm and come back with heavy artillery,’ he growled.
Now that was a blow below the belt! Or not really, because currently I wasn’t wearing any belt. In fact, I wasn’t wearing much of anything, except a pair of drawers and my corset. It was getting rather chilly, particularly around the shoulders, and I shrugged into the red uniform as quickly as possible. I had expected it to feel awkward, but it didn’t. Wearing Uncle Bufford’s Sunday best for so long had made me become accustomed to wearing trousers. The military outfit, with its burning colours and padded shoulders, rather gave me a feeling of confidence, though that feeling was slightly offset by the ridiculous hat.
With a deep breath, I fastened the last button.
‘All right,’ I whispered. ‘We can go.’
Mr Ambrose didn’t move.
‘You are fully clothed?’
‘Yes.’
‘Karim, turn around and check if sh- he is fully clothed.’
‘Sahib,’ Karim protested, not moving an inch. ‘I can’t…’
‘Do it, Karim!’
‘Yes, Sahib. As you command, Sahib.’
One hand over his eyes, with only a minuscule crack open between two fingers that could be closed the moment he detected any sign of indecency or devilry, Karim slowly turned towards me. I rolled my eyes. To tell the truth, I was getting slightly miffed, and had almost forgotten the hundreds of soldiers around us and the mortal danger we were in. I mean, I surely didn’t look that bad in underwear…
‘She is decent,’ he announced in a low rumble. Then, thinking again, added, ‘As least as decent as she can be.’
‘I see. Then let us waste no more time.’
Without turning to glance at me, Mr Ambrose strode to the corner of the shed and peeked out into the courtyard.
‘There are no soldiers nearby,’ he whispered. ‘There are two of them farther down the courtyard, approximately twenty yards away from us. We will go around the back of the shed. When we emerge from behind it on the other side, they will not notice, or think we have come from the other side of the courtyard. From where they are standing, it would be nearly impossible to tell the difference.’
He crossed to the other side of the shed and positioned himself at the corner there.
‘Ready?’ he asked.
‘Yes, Sir,’ I said, my heart hammering. By now, the soldiers who surrounded us had more than returned to my consciousness: they had usurped it. Playing dress-up behind the shed was all too well, but now we would step out into the open again, and our disguise would have to hold.
‘Yes, Sahib.’
‘Good. Remember, when you step out, look relaxed and comfortable.’
‘You mean like you always do?’ I asked, sweetly.
‘Mr Linton?’
‘Yes, Sir?’
‘Be quiet!’
‘Yes, Sir! Of course, Sir!’
‘On the count of three. One… two… three!’
He stepped out into the courtyard, and started marching in the most perfect military step I had ever seen. In his brilliant red uniform he looked the picture of a handsome young soldier. I stared after him, an odd tugging sensation in my gut.
‘Come on!’ Karim growled from beside me. ‘Or do you wish to stand around here gaping for the rest of the night?’
With a hurried shake of the head I started forward.
The moment I stepped out from behind the shed, I could feel them on me: the gazes of the hidden gunmen who were stationed all over the roof. I could feel their eyes boring into me, probing me, as Lord Dalgliesh’s eyes had probed me, searching for truth and purpose.
My eyes fixed themselves on Mr Ambrose’s back, a few yards in front of me. Please, I thought, desperately. Please don't let them guess the truth about him.
Would you even see blood on that red coat? Or would there just be a bang, and he would crumple silently to the ground? I didn’t know. All I knew was that I didn’t wish to find out.
Get a grip, I snapped at myself. The gunmen aren’t watching you. They are watching the outside for intruders, not the inside for their own soldiers, and that’s what you are now. It is just your imagination running wild!
If only I had been better at convincing myself.
Beyond Mr Ambrose, the gigantic double-winged front door loomed. I was just wondering once again how the dickens we were going to get it open, when suddenly, one of the wings swung open with a creak. Two soldiers stepped out. My heart almost stopped. What would we do? What would we say?
Mr Ambrose gave the soldiers a curt nod. He didn’t say anything. They gave him a curt nod back. They didn’t say anything.