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"Gracious me," the cook says, hanging on every word."What ever did you do, sir?"
"I said, "Here now, my good fellow, you don't want to eat me. I'm nothing but gristle. Take my associate, Mr. Robbins. ""
"Oh, you didn't, sir!"
"I did." Father is enjoying his audience. He jumps up to act out the rest like a pantomime. "He went for Robbins straightaway. I'd only an instant to act. Quiet as a church mouse, I pulled out my machete and sliced through the cobra just before he would have struck old Robbins and killed him."
The maid, a girl of about my age, gasps. Beneath the bit of soot on her nose, she's quite lovely.
"He was most delicious." Father sits with a satisfied smile. I am so happy to see him this way, I could listen to his stories all night.
"Oh, sir, that was thrilling. The adventures you've had/The cook hands a plate to the maid."Here. Take this to Mr. Kartik for me."
"Mr. Kartik?" I say, feeling as if I should faint.
"Yes," Father says, sopping up his relish. "Kartik. Our new coachman." "HI go, if you don't mind," I say, taking the plate from the rather disappointed- looking maid. "I should like to meet our Mr. Kartik."
Before anyone can object, I make my way to the mews, passing a charwoman covered in soot and a weary laundress, her hands pressed to her back. There are entire families living in the rooms above these stables. It is hard to imagine. The smell has me pressing my hand to my nose. Our carriage house is the fourth down on the right. A groom tends Father's two horses. Seeing me, the young boy removes his cap."Evenin', miss."
"I'm looking for Mr. Kartik," I say.
" 'E's over there, miss, by the carriage."
I go around the side of it and there he is, shining the already clean coach with a rag. He's been given a proper uniform-- trousers, shoes, a striped waistcoat, a fine shirt, and a hat. His curls have been oiled into obedience. He looks very much the gentleman. It quite takes my breath away.
I clear my throat. He turns and sees me, a wicked grin lighting up his face.
"How do you do?" I say quite formally for the benefit of the groom, who is spying on us this very instant.
Kartik catches on."Good evening, miss. Willie!" he calls out to the boy.
"Yes, Mr. Kartik?"
"Be a good lad and stretch Ginger's legs, will you?"
The boy leads the chestnut horse from the stable.
"What do you think of my new suit?" Kartik asks.
"Don't you think it's rather bold of you to take a job as our coachman?" I whisper.
"I said that I would be close."
"So you did. How ever did you arrange it?" "The Rakshana have their ways/The Rakshana. Of course. It is quiet. I can hear Ginger snorting softly on the other side of the stables.
"Well," I say.
"Well," Kartik echoes.
"Here we are."
"Yes. It was good of you to come see me. You look well."
I should die from politeness. "I've brought your supper," I say, offering the plate.
"Thank you," he says, pulling over a stool for me and removing the volume of The Odyssey that sits atop it. He perches on the steps of the carriage. "I suppose Emily isn't coming, then."
"Who is Emily?" I ask.
