A Scandal in Battersea (Elemental Masters #12)(109)
“I hope you are right,” said Memsa’b. “We called in a great many favors that we may not have at our disposal another time.”
“I hope there is never another time,” Mary Watson said fervently. “I would be very happy dealing in smaller crises. A werewolf outbreak, perhaps, or a plague of vampires.”
“Oh come now, Mary, you certainly aren’t going to gull me into believing those mythological beings are real,” Holmes scoffed.
“Oh?” Mary turned to give Holmes the sort of stare one gives a particularly stupid child. “And what about the Green Men you saw with your own eyes? And the salamanders. And the trolls? For someone who claims—”
“Children, children, don’t fight,” Sahib said indulgently. “Take up that particular argument somewhere other than our drawing room, please.”
Mary sniffed. Holmes shrugged. “I will admit,” he said at last, “That being involved in this superstitious farradiddle does make for more interesting cases.”
“Oh please—” Mary said, but was interrupted by the entrance of one of the servants.
“There are three young men with letters of introduction to you, Sahib,” he said diffidently. “Shall I show them in?”
Sahib looked baffled, and so did Memsa’b. Nan could not help but notice, however, that Selim, Karamjit, and Agansing were looking . . . conspiratorial.
So she was not terribly surprised to see that the three young men in question—not terribly young after all, certainly in their late twenties or early thirties—were dressed, respectively, in the native costumes of the Gurkha, the Sikh and the Indian Moslem, all modified to suit the bitter winter weather.
All three bowed stiffly to Sahib when they were brought before him. The Sikh seemed to be their spokesperson, and he began to open his mouth, when Karamjit interrupted him, “Sahib Harton, may I introduce our nephews. After due consultation with their elders, we have selected these three youngsters to train as our replacements in your service, and we beg you to accept them immediately.”
Nan was not sure which of the four were the more astonished, Sahib Harton, or the three young men, who apparently had been unaware that their uncles were lying down in the presence of their employer. All four mouths fell open, and all four faces had such comical expressions that the entire room broke up with laughter.
Selim held his midsection as the laughter ended, looking still amused, but pained. “Please to be refraining from making such faces again for some time. I fear I may have torn stitches.”
Sahib finally recovered. “You are certainly hired, and you will certainly begin learning your duties as soon as your uncles are able to instruct you,” he said, and turned to the servant. “Mustafa, please see to it that these gentlemen get rooms next to their uncles, and something to eat, and help them take their belongings to their new quarters. I am sure they are fatigued by the journey and will want to rest. We’ll let them get settled and used to our School before their uncles start putting them through their paces.”
The young men followed the servant out, and Sahib turned on Karamjit. “What do you mean by this, old friend? You are surely not leaving us—”
“Nothing of the sort,” Karamjit replied, interrupting. “But we are getting no younger, and if you and Memsa’b keep having adventures of this sort, we will certainly need some younger bodies to absorb the punishment while we convey orders from behind some sturdy wall. That is all. We fully intend to grow ancient, wrinkled and withered in your service, forcing you in the end to hire ayahs for all three of us.”
Agansing snickered, and Selim held his side again. Then Karamjit turned to Holmes.
“And you, good sir, if you are going to keep entangling yourself with the Hartons’ affairs, I advise you to begin training a replacement of your own. Their lives tend to be . . . interesting.”
Grey laughed, and Neville made a rude noise. “Interesting!” Grey exclaimed. “Verrrrry interesting!”
But Holmes only smiled.