Danger at Dahlkari by Jennifer Wilde

no use trying to pretend it didn’t. We—we survived, and it’s over now. I—I’ll never be able to forget the things I saw, but—I’m made of pretty strong stuff, Dollie. I’m not one of your wilting Victorian maidens. You needn’t be afraid to mention Thugs around me. I imagine I shall be hearing quite a lot about them.”
    â€œYou’re a brave, brave girl.”
    â€œI’m sensible,” I said quietly. “Swooning and having hysterics aren’t going to erase anything that happened. I—I’m not unfeeling, please don’t think that. I just know I have to—to go on in spite of it.”
    â€œOf course you do, dear. These dreadful Thugs—” Dollie stared across the garden, not really seeing it, her bright red mouth a tight line. She finally turned back to me with serious brown eyes.
    â€œThis is their last stronghold, you see. The secret society of Thuggee was thriving all over India. It’s been pretty well broken up everywhere else—Captain Sleeman and his men have done such a tremendous job of bringing those awful assassins to justice—but it’s still thriving in this area. No one’s been able to break their cover. Someone very powerful is behind them—some say it might even be a white man who’s in league with them and helping to provide cover for a share of the spoils. Poor Reggie has done all he could, but he’s had no luck. That’s why they sent that terrible Robert Gordon out here.”
    â€œGordon? I think Reggie mentioned him last night.”
    Dollie puffed up like an angry robin, eyes snapping.
    â€œThat man’s a thorn in all our sides!” she exclaimed. “So arrogant and aloof, so independent! He’s on Sleeman’s staff, and he’s sent out here with special papers giving him full authority to handle the Thuggee situation. He doesn’t have to take orders from anyone, is free to do exactly as he pleases! He disappears for long periods of time, Gordon does, and heaven only knows what he’s up to while he’s away. Secret missions, ‘undercover work,’ he calls it. He doesn’t confide in anyone, not even Reg gie. It’s scandalous!”
    â€œIt does seem a bit unusual,” I agreed.
    â€œHe has rooms here at the barracks, naturally, rooms filled with books and papers and outrageous native statues and a whole jumble of bizarre objects. When he’s not skulking around the countryside in disguise he’s making secret reports to Sleeman and telling him God knows what about us all!” Dolly paused, visibly fuming. “I never could abide spies!”
    â€œSleeman must have a great deal of confidence in him.”
    â€œOh, Gordon’s brilliant , I’ll have to hand him that. He speaks over ten languages and any number of dialects. The man’s not yet thirty, and he’s already had a number of books published—quite shocking anthropological studies about native tribes and some of their—well, more un civ ilized practices. He’s done translations, too.” Dollie lowered her voice. “Ancient marriage manuals,” she said, “and even worse—the kind of books no Godfearing Englishman would allow in his home.”
    â€œHow very unusual,” I remarked.
    â€œHe simply doesn’t Fit In,” she continued, verbally capitalizing the last two words. “I suppose you’d have to say the man is fascinating—I’ve never encountered anyone quite like him—but, all the same, he gives me the shivers. That savage face, those eyes . Some women find that sort of thing attractive, of course. A number of the younger wives tried to shine up to him when he first arrived. Gordon wouldn’t give them the time of day and didn’t even try to hide how boring he found them. He doesn’t have time for women , I can tell you that much!”
    Despite Dollie’s vehement tirade