From the Charred Remains (36 page)

As if he heard her little sigh, the man turned around. “Nasrin!” he called, holding his arms wide. Wordlessly, Miss Water walked into Darius’s arms.

Lucy turned away from the pair, a slight mist covering her eyes. Seeing the lovers reunited was almost too much to bear. She could hear Miss Water crying. “For so long, I thought you were dead! Now, here you are!”

“I did not know if you would decipher my riddle.” Lucy heard Darius say to Miss Water. “I have not heard from that rascal Tahmin for almost two months now. What was I to think when I did not receive your reply? I told him to return with your message. Then, when I heard of the Great Fire, I feared the worst. But I could not leave Persia, you understand, until my obligation to the Shah was complete. That’s why I sent Tahmin.”

“Oh Darius!” Miss Water pulled away slightly. “We must talk. No, Lucy, wait!” she said, seeing Lucy start to move away. “Please help me explain to Darius all that has happened.” She gulped, a pleading look in her eyes.
Please help me tell him what happened to Tahmin.

The young man turned toward Lucy with a gentle smile. His wavy hair and eyes were black, and his skin was darker than that of most people of her acquaintance. He reminded her somewhat of some of the Arab traders she’d met before at market. When he spoke, his voice was deeply cultured and rich, sounding even more refined than Master Hargrave.

“Nasrin, I should very much like to meet your friend. Miss—?”

“Campion,” Miss Water supplied.

“Miss Campion,” he said to Lucy with an elegant bow. The gesture made her smile; she’d never felt so important. A breeze blew again, and both women shivered.

“Let us go near one of these bonfires. We can talk there easily enough,” Darius said. He also bought them mugs of steaming wormwood from a man ladling the drink from a small cauldron over a small fire.

Sighing, they sat down on the ground, still close by Master Greenleaf’s fruit cart. All about them revelers strolled or danced about with their effigies and bonfires.

Darius grinned at them, his white teeth gleaming in the light of the fire. “When I wrote you that letter, dear Nasrin, I never truly imagined Covent Garden would be like this. How long did it take for you to decipher my anagram?”

Miss Water gulped, looking helplessly at Lucy. She seemed incapable of speech.

“We just figured the whole message out,” Lucy said slowly. “Just a few hours ago.”

“Just a few hours ago? How can that be?” Darius asked, looking from Lucy to Nasrin in surprise. “Tahmin was supposed to let you know which lines held the clue, in case you could not sort it out. Where is Tahmin anyway?” He looked around, as if expecting his old friend to emerge from behind a vendor’s stall.

Reluctantly, Lucy explained all that occurred since the night of the Fire, what they had pieced together of Tahmin’s last hours, of the aftermath they’d experienced when Lucy innocently published the poem. As she spoke, Darius’s face grew ashen, and for a moment he seemed quite overcome. Lucy looked away, while he laid his face on Miss Water’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I never suspected this would happen.”

“Why did you say you were here? In your anagram?” Miss Water asked, pulling away slightly. The first few blissful moments were forgotten as evidently she remembered her months of distress and worry.

“My intention was to come with Tahmin, but I was delayed by affairs at the Shah’s court. He was dying, and I could not leave him.” He paused. “Forgive me, my dear. Forgive this little game I had planned. It’s just that I’ve had a surprise long planned for you. I had heard of the famous Covent Garden from an English ballad that was passed around at the Palace.” He looked ruefully about. “What can I say? I thought we might try pineapple together.” He leaned toward Miss Water. “I had heard of your Londoner’s love of this Guy Fawkes celebration, and I thought I would be here by then.”

“You just couldn’t stay away, could you, Darius?” A figure stepped into the light of the bonfire.

Miss Water gasped, pulling away from Darius. “Father! What are you doing here?”

“What do you think?” Master Water held up a careworn copy of
From the Charred Remains.
“Child’s play. I deciphered Darius’s poem months ago. After I heard you and Miss Campion here talking that day in Oxford, I knew that Tahmin was simply the messenger, and Darius your
lover.
” He spat the last word out at them. “I never dreamed you’d figure out the rest of the poem on your own. I thought I would be able to just meet Darius myself.”

Darius stood up, his chest heaving with emotion. “Do you know who killed Tahmin?” he asked Master Water, the pain at asking that question evident. “Did
you
kill my friend?”

Miss Water turned a shocked face toward Darius. “Darius! That’s not possible! Why ever would you ask my father such a dreadful thing?”

“Because I asked him to send your father a letter in Oxford when he arrived in London, asking to see him.” A shadow crossed Darius’s face. “I told him to say that he would like to pay his respects personally, but not to say that he was there on my behalf.” He stared at Master Water. “
Did
you meet him?”

“No, that’s not possible. Tell him, Father, that’s not possible,” Miss Water exclaimed again. “You weren’t at the Cheshire Cheese that night! You weren’t even in London!”

“But he was,” Lucy said slowly, remembering what she’d learned about that ill-fated game from Tilly, Durand, Mister Hendricks, and even the Earl.

Out of the corner of her eye Lucy noticed Constable Duncan moving toward them. He had received the note she had left with the bellman. Giving him a slight warning flick of her hand, she raised her voice a bit. “
You
were the other man who didn’t play the game of cards at the Cheshire Cheese that night! Tilly told us there was another man who watched the game intently.” She stared at Miss Water’s father. “
You
brought Tahmin! You knew he had the gambling sickness.”

“Yes, that’s right,” Master Water said, ignoring his daughter’s gasp. “What was I supposed to think? Tahmin had informed me he was coming to London. Told me he wanted to see me. Having seen my daughter embrace a man in the shadows of the Shah’s garden, I could only assume one thing. He’d made this trek to see her. Maybe even try to run off with her. This I could not allow.”

Beside her, Darius put his hand to his face, a deep pain crossing his features. “Tahmin had come on my bequest. Indeed, to see your daughter, but also to convey my best wishes to you.” Darius sighed. “Tahmin was a deeply honorable man.”

Master Water continued, his words tumbling out more quickly now, as if he couldn’t keep them in even if he had wished. Lucy was glad to see that Constable Duncan was taking in every word. “Tahmin wanted to play a game of cards,” Master Water said. “I knew I could not let him see you, my dear.” He gazed at his daughter, who was staring at him wordlessly. “I certainly couldn’t take him to one of my regular establishments, couldn’t run the risk of meeting any of my acquaintances.” He gazed at a bonfire for a moment. “I’d heard tell of the Cheshire Cheese.

“My worries were confirmed when that poem was read out loud. I knew it was intended for you, my daughter. Rhonda—Rose. I could not let him court you.”

“Why ever not?” Miss Water exclaimed. “You told me that you admired them.”

“Let you marry one of them? Live among them forever?” Lucy winced at the disdain in his voice, his upper-class breeding showing. “I jolly well don’t think so.”

Miss Water looked like she’d been slapped, and she clutched Darius again. For a long moment her father and Darius stared balefully at one another.

“What happened at the Cheshire Cheese?” Lucy asked, still trying to learn what had happened to Tahmin.

Master Water sighed. “I heard him called a blackmailer, and I egged on his beating. When those louts left him outside the tavern, I nearly left him. But then I thought of him, in the shadows, in the garden, embracing you. Taking your honor.
That’s
when I drove my knife in.”

Miss Water’s face crumpled. “You
did
kill him?”

Master Water regarded his daughter with a mixture of sadness, exasperation, and even a bit of defiance. “I just could not think. I stuffed him in the barrel. When the Fire happened, I thought my crime would never come to light. I’m not proud of what I did.”

Darius drew her toward him then, so that she turned her stunned face to his. “Please let me bring you back to my land. At the court, you will be revered, not disrespected for taking up with, how do you English say it, ‘a foreign gent’?”

Constable Duncan stepped up, placing his hand around the scholar’s arm. “Master Water, you are under arrest for the murder of Tahmin—” He looked at Darius. “What is his surname?”

“Abbas,” Darius said, wiping a tear from his eye. “His name was Tahmin Abbas.” He put his arm around Miss Water then, for she had begun to tremble. The full weight of her father’s crime was starting to sink in.

“Father?” she asked, her voice wavering. “What will happen to us?”

Master Water looked at her with profound sadness. “I have made an egregious error, one I can never rectify. I can only hope in time for your forgiveness.” He embraced her swiftly, then released her, and she nearly collapsed. “Get me out of here, Constable.”

Duncan gestured to his bellman, who stepped forward to lead Master Water away. Miss Water sobbed softly against Darius’s shoulder.

“Please show me where my friend died,” Darius said quietly, after pulling slightly away from Miss Water’s tight grasp. “Please, Miss Campion?”

Duncan frowned slightly. “It’s dark. Can you not go in the morning?”

“I should like to go now,” Darius said. He inclined his head. “But if you feel I will be endangering Miss Campion, then by all means we can wait.”

“I think we will be all right,” Lucy said to Duncan. “Truly.”

“I know you’ll be fine.” He flicked a bit of ash from her shoulder. “You always come out on top.”

The intensity of his gaze made her remember what Adam had said about the constable. Feeling slightly flustered, Lucy bid him farewell. Picking up two torches, she turned to Darius and Miss Water. Handing one to Darius, she said, “This way.”

*   *   *

Together, the trio walked along Fleet Street, toward the site of the Cheshire Cheese. “You’re more than a scribe, aren’t you?” Miss Water asked, with slightly misty eyes. Her eyes widened when he leaned down to whisper something in her ear. The rubble there had been cleared for the most part. Lucy pointed to the location where the barrels had been, near the old stone wall. “Just there.”

Darius broke his silence. “‘The Truth stands before me,’” he said softly. “‘On my left is a blazing fire, and on my right, a cool flowing stream.’” He looked down at Rhonda. “I think Rumi would tell us to find the flowing stream. Come.” Holding hands, they walked over to the remnants of the wall and knelt down. From the distance, Miss Water appeared to be saying a prayer.

Lucy turned away. A cart stopped beside her on the street. “Lucy?” someone called.

Surprised, she turned around. The magistrate and Adam were sitting in the cart. Lucy stepped quickly over, her mind racing. Master Hargrave was smiling kindly down at her. “We deciphered the last bit,” he said. “I see you did too. We stopped by Master Aubrey to tell you, and we found this.” He held up the crumpled piece of paper where she’d scrawled the complete message. “We then went to see Constable Duncan, and found him locking up Master Water. He told us what had happened. He also told us you had found Darius, and that the three of you were coming here. I think he was feeling a bit anxious for your safety, but I can see you are all right.”

“Three different stories,” Lucy said, her eyes a bit misty. “Poor Tahmin! The Earl thought he had found his blackmailer, and set Burly and Jonesie on him. Master Water thought he was protecting his daughter. Truly, he was simply Darius’s messenger, charged to bring a lighthearted puzzle to Miss Water.” She smiled wryly. “Who could have imagined that printing a simple poem would have brought all this to light?”

“Indeed.” Master Hargrave looked at Darius and Miss Water. “That’s Darius, is it?” he asked. “Over there, with Miss Water? He’s a regal sort.”

“Yes,” Lucy hesitated. His secrets were not hers to share. “I don’t think he’s the court translator.”

Master Hargrave raised his eyebrows. “No, I shouldn’t think so. A translator is hardly likely to have the wherewithal to send a message by hand to a young woman in a far-off land. Even a dear friend might think twice about such a mission, but Tahmin appears to have been quite devoted.”

Lucy smiled. Trust Master Hargrave to boil a mystery down in such a fashion. “Just so,” she agreed.

They all watched Darius whisper something in Miss Water’s ear, and they could see the responding pleasure in her face in the flickering light of the lantern.

Lucy looked at Adam who was smiling at her in approval. “Well done, Lucy. Well done! You’ve helped right a terrible wrong. Perhaps they would never have found each other, had it not been for your perseverance.”

She smiled back, unconsciously stroking her silver bracelet. She did not expect him to repeat what he had said in the intimacy of his bedchamber. In that moment, she knew all would be right between them, even if it took them a while to find the way forward.

Lucy turned back then, to where Miss Water and Darius still knelt. As she watched, Darius took out a small silver dagger, which he raised high in the air, clearly paying tribute to Tahmin. He then dropped the dagger into a hole he had dug in the ground. Seeing the blade, Lucy had a sudden memory of the two little boys playing with the armor they’d found. Sir Dungheap and Lord Lughead. Their play had started this tale, but there had been far more twists than anyone might have imagined.

Together, Miss Water and Darius pushed the dirt over the dagger and stood up. The Persian man kept his arm around her protectively.

“They have found each other, I see,” the magistrate said. “The trials they have suffered do not seem to have driven them apart.” He sighed. “Although they will have much to bear when her father’s crime comes to light.”