She continued to smile at him. “Besides, I became involved in this through helping poor Captain MacFarlane, and in light of his sacrifice I feel compelled to do whatever little I may to ensure his mission succeeds.”

The mention of James reminded him that, in some respects, he now stood in James’s shoes, taking on a responsibility that originally had been James’s-seeing Miss Ensworth safely home.

For a moment, he felt as if James’s ghost hovered in the room beside them-he could almost see his insouciant smile. James had died a hero. He’d been dashing and handsome, a few years older than Miss Ensworth-hardly surprising if, in the circumstances, she harbored some romantic feelings for his dead friend.

He wondered if that was what he saw in her eyes.

Somewhat abruptly, he stood. “I must check with the others about setting a watch-we can’t be too careful. I’ll see you at dinner.”

She inclined her head. “We’ll need to decide how best to journey on.”

“I’ll check what our options are tomorrow. I’ll tell you once I know.” He headed for the door.

“Excellent-we can discuss it in the morning.”

In the doorway, he looked back, then nodded. “In the morning.”

He strode down the corridor, a sense of relief returning. She’d agreed to travel on together. He’d be able to keep her safe. That was the critical point. The instant he’d seen the cultist making for her on the dock, he’d known he’d have to keep her with him, almost certainly all the way back to England, until he could leave her somewhere the cult couldn’t reach her.

The responsibility wasn’t one he could possibly shirk. Quite aside from all else, honor wouldn’t allow it. She’d become a target for the Black Cobra through helping with their mission, and he and his comrades, James included, owed her a huge debt. If she hadn’t played her part and brought the letter to Del, they would still be chasing cultists through the Indian countryside, and the Black Cobra would be continuing his reign of terror and destruction unabated.