Chapter 2 #2
“Why don’t you give it up?”
Ruel glanced over his shoulder to see Ian climbing the hill from the grove where he had tied his horse beside Ruel’s. “Why should I? She’s the key to Kartauk.”
“You’ve been watching her for four days and she’s done nothing but work like a galley slave.” Ian crouched down beside Ruel. “Can’t you see Abdar was lying to you? She couldn’t be Kartauk’s mistress. Just look at her, the lass isn’t much more than a child.”
“Appearances are almost always deceiving. Remind me to tell you about a whore I once had in Singapore. Mei Lei had the face of a baby angel and the delightfully corrupt talents of Delilah.” His gaze returned to the woman below. “What did you find out from Colonel Pickering about Reilly?”
“Not much. Reilly’s uneducated but good-natured enough and drinks like a sot. He had a fairly good reputation in Yorkshire, and after he finished building a line between Dover and Salisbury, he entered a bid for this job.”
“And the woman?”
Ian shrugged. “No one ever sees her. She never goes to the club with him. Reilly keeps her pretty much to himself.”
“And their relationship?”
Ian looked uncomfortable. “There are rumors … but no one knows for sure.” His gaze shifted down to Jane in the valley below. “I believe it’s all nonsense and she is Reilly’s ward.”
“Because you want to believe it.”
Ian tilted his head as he looked back at Ruel. “And you don’t. Why not?”
Ruel realized to his surprise that Ian was right. He wanted Jane Barnaby to be the promiscuous harlot Abdar had described, and the reason lay in the odd fascination she held for him. It couldn’t be lust, he thought impatiently. How could he feel lust for this bony, big-eyed waif? Nor was it pity. Even exhausted she displayed a strength of purpose and an endurance that defied sympathy. Yet, somehow, she moved him.
The acknowledgment caused his defenses to instantly rise. God, the sun must be addling his brains. He allowed no one to touch his emotions, and certainly not a woman whom he might have to use to get Kartauk. He turned to Ian and smiled cynically. “I haven’t your faith in human nature. We’re all what life makes us, and I’d wager Jane Barnaby’s life has been as turbulent as mine.”
“I still think that—” Ian shrugged as he met Ruel’s gaze. “You’ve been out here for hours in the sun. Would you like me to watch her for the rest of the day?”
“No.” Ian’s brows lifted in surprise at the quick refusal. Ruel tempered his tone. “I’m used to the heat. You’d probably get sunstroke after an hour.”
“You’re probably right. I can’t see how you can bear it.” Ian’s voice became wistful. “It never gets this hot at Glenclaren. Remember how the cool mists on the hills rise in the morning?”
“No, I don’t remember.”
Ian smiled. “Then it will come as a delightful surprise when you come back to us.” He rose to his feet. “If you won’t let me help now, I’ll take my turn watching the bungalow tonight.”
“We’ll see.”
“You never know when to stop. You’re becoming as obsessed about watching that child as you are about your Cinnidar.”
“She’s not a child.” The words came too sharply again, and Ruel forced himself to smile carelessly. “If you want to help, go back to the Officers’ Club and see if you can find out from Pickering if the maharajah has any passions besides his new toy of a railroad.”
Ian nodded as he took out his handkerchief and wiped his perspiring brow. “I won’t argue with you. A cool drink on the veranda while being fanned by one of the club’s servants seems like heaven right now.” He turned and started down the hill toward the horses. “I’ll see you back at the hotel.”
“Yes.” Ruel’s tone was abstracted as he turned to look down at the woman again. Jane had stopped by the water bearer and took the dipper of water he held out to her. As she drank, she tilted back her head, and he could see the graceful line of her throat and the dark lashes curving against her tan cheeks as she half closed her eyes against the glare of the sun.
He waited, anticipation stirring. After she drank she would splash a little water on her cheeks and throat and run her damp palms under the heavy braid covering her nape.
She returned the dipper to the bearer, who smiled, filled it again, and poured the water into her cupped hands.
Ruel leaned back against the rock, watching as she cooled her cheeks and forehead and then her throat and nape. It was ridiculous to feel this absurd sense of satisfaction just because she had done what he had expected her to do. Yet the satisfaction persisted, escalated, as she returned the dipper back to the bearer.
Now she would retrace her steps back to the point where the new track started and examine the ties, measure the distance between the rails to make sure it was exactly four feet eight and a half inches.
Jane whirled and walked briskly back along the newly laid track.
He laughed softly and tilted his hat until it rested on the back of his head. By God, he knew her. He felt as if he had never known anyone in his entire life as well as he knew Jane Barnaby. He knew every gesture, every reaction, almost her every thought.
His smile faded as he realized the pleasure that knowledge brought him, the pleasure a man might feel in exploring the gaits of a fine horse he had just acquired or the first sensual discoveries of the talents of a mistress.
The pleasure of possession.
Nonsense. He had no desire to own anyone and had a passion only for what awaited him on Cinnidar. He was merely bored and it amused him to predict the girl’s next moves. Besides, it would be only sensible to familiarize himself with the way she thought if she could lead him to Kartauk.
“The work is going too slow.” Patrick stretched his long legs out before him under the dinner table and lifted the glass of whiskey to his lips. “The maharajah paid me a little visit this afternoon and the bastard says he wants the railroad finished before the monsoon season.”
“Well, he’s not going to get it.” Jane looked dully down at the rice and chicken on her plate. She felt too tired to eat but knew she must. Food brought strength and she had to keep strong. She picked up the fork and attacked the rice. “The rains start in two weeks and we’ve just finished the bridge across Sikor Gorge.”
“That leaves only another twenty-five miles of track to lay before you join with the track we laid from Narinth. At six miles a day we—”
“We’re not doing six miles a day. We’re lucky to do two.”
Patrick muttered a curse. “Then push them, dammit.”
Jane’s hand tightened on the fork. “I’m doing the best I can. You know the workers won’t listen to me.” She smiled mirthlessly. “Those who don’t regard me as a freak look on me only as a woman and therefore unworthy of attention.”
“The crew listened to you on the Yorkshire job.”
“Because most of the time you were on the site. They thought I was only mouthing your orders.” She met his gaze across the table. “It might be the same here if you’d just make an appearance every day.”
He flushed. “This infernal heat gives me a headache. You have Robinson to back you up.”
“Robinson is only an overseer. Come just for an hour or so. Then you can go back to Kasanpore.”
He was silent a moment and then a smile lit his ruddy face with warmth. “You’re right. From now on I’ll be there every day until the job is done.” He studied her face. “You’re looking a bit ragged. Why don’t you stay in bed tomorrow and get some rest?”
“I’ll be fine after a night’s sleep.” She took another bite of rice. “But it really would help if you’d come with me tomorrow.”
He frowned. “Good God, you sound like a nagging fishwife. I said I’d come, didn’t I?”
“Sorry.” She finished the rice on her plate. “You’re not eating.”
“It’s too hot to eat.” He refilled his glass from the bottle on the table. “And even if I were hungry I couldn’t stomach this slop. I don’t see why you had to send Li Sung to Narinth. I haven’t had a decent meal since he left.”
She hurriedly glanced down at her plate. “Sula isn’t a bad cook. I needed someone in Narinth to make sure the work on the station was going well.”
“No one would pay any attention to the orders of a chink.” He flushed defiantly as he saw the expression on her face. “Well, they wouldn’t.”
“No more than they would a woman,” she agreed. “But he can watch and report if we’re being cheated by the subcontractor you hired to do the work.” She stood up and began to stack the dishes on the table. “Try to eat a little, or you’ll have a bad head in the morning.”
“Later.” Patrick lifted the glass to his lips and she knew he’d leave the meal untouched. “That friend of the prince’s came with the maharajah.”
She stiffened. “Pachtal?”
Patrick nodded. “Seems a pleasant enough fellow. He said to give you his regards.”
“Really?” She tried to make her tone noncommittal. “Did he say anything else?”
“No.” Patrick made a face. “The maharajah said it all. He wanted to know where his locomotive was and when we’d finish laying the track.”
“You told him the locomotive would arrive in a few days?”
“If the damn boat doesn’t sink to the bottom of the river with it,” Patrick said gloomily. “It would be just our luck. Nothing else has gone right on this job.” He brightened. “At least, he’ll be pleased with the locomotive. It’s going to sport so much brass, he’ll well nigh be blinded by it.”
Her gaze flew to his face. “How could we afford to do that? We barely had enough cash left to afford the engine itself.”
“I managed to cut a few corners.” Patrick didn’t look at her as he sipped his whiskey. “The maharajah likes a little flash and glitter, and we need to keep him sweet-tempered.”
“That’s true enough.” She stood looking at him, frowning. “What corners?”
He waved a vague hand. “I just eliminated a part here and there. Nothing important.”
“You’re sure?”
“I said so, didn’t I?” Patrick’s tone turned testy. “I’ve been a railroad man since I was a lad of fourteen, Jane. I think I know what I’m doing.”
“I just wanted to be—”
“It’s too hot in here.” Patrick pushed back his chair, stood up, and grabbed his glass and bottle. “I’m going out on the veranda, where it’s cooler.”
And where there were no troublesome questions to make him uncomfortable, Jane thought as she watched him walk toward the door leading to the screened veranda. His step was a little unsteady, but he wasn’t staggering, which meant he probably hadn’t been noticeably inebriated during his interview with the maharajah and Pachtal.
Pachtal. Both his presence and his message were obviously meant as a warning that she had not been forgotten by Abdar. During the past two weeks she had been scrupulously careful not to leave the encampment. Abdar must be seething with frustration, she mused. She smiled with grim satisfaction as she carried the dishes to the kitchen adjoining the dining room.
The tall, sari-clad servant woman was in the process of scraping bits of chicken into Sam’s bowl and straightened with a guilty smile as Jane entered the kitchen. “I know the dog is not supposed to be in here, but I thought only this once?”
“It’s all right, Sula. Just don’t let the sahib see him.”
Sula nodded. “The meal pleased you, memsahib?”
“Very good.” Jane gave her an abstracted smile as she set the dishes on the countertop. She then bent and patted the dog’s silky head. Perhaps she shouldn’t be so complacent about Pachtal’s visit, when it might have signaled the end of the waiting game Abdar had been playing. She had meant to visit Zabrie before this and ask her to set up a way for Kartauk to leave the city, but the pressure of work had caused her to ignore everything but the laying of the track. She should really go see the woman tonight.
No, not tonight. She could feel the cold lethargy of exhaustion dragging at every limb. Why did she care anyway? Li Sung was right; Kartauk was using her as much as she had used him. But it made no difference; she did care. She had never been able to bear the idea of cruelty to the helpless—though the idea of Kartauk being helpless was ironic. Yet while Abdar held the power in Kasanpore, Kartauk was without—
Dear heaven, her mind must be as weary as her body to meander like this. She would wash up and go to bed and try not to think of Abdar, his father, Kartauk, or the monumental pressure of the work waiting for her tomorrow.
As she crossed the living room on the way to her bedroom she heard Patrick humming to himself on the veranda. For a moment she felt a flicker of fierce resentment. He was happily drowning his worries in his bottle of whiskey, leaving her to solve their problems.
“Jane?” Patrick called.
She stopped but did not turn toward the veranda. “Yes?”
“I meant it about you staying in bed tomorrow.” His tone was soft, caressing, almost affectionate. “We can’t have you falling ill again. Whatever would I do without you?”
Jane’s resentment vanished. He did care about her and God knows he needed her. “I won’t be ill. I’m just a little tired.”
“Well, take care of yourself.”
Easy to say but almost impossible to do when the work never ended, she thought ruefully. “I will.” She started quickly toward the bedroom door again, but a little of the lethargy and discouragement had dissipated in the surge of warmth she had felt for Patrick. He might use her, as Li Sung claimed, but he had rescued them both from Frenchie’s and given them freedom and a roof over their heads. For that alone she would always be passionately grateful.
She lit the oil lamp on the table beside her narrow mosquito-net-draped bed and started to unbutton her loose shirt. She felt better now and would feel still better when she had washed away some of the sweat and dirt of the day. It would be foolish to put off going to see Zabrie when Abdar was clearly becoming an active danger again. The bath would revive her. Then she would be restored enough to set out for the city and deal with Zabrie.
“What is this place?” Ian whispered, peering at the large two-story sod house across the street.
Ruel’s gaze never left the doorway through which Jane Barnaby had just passed as he answered. “Zabrie’s. The Kasanpore version of a house of ill repute. Not exactly the kind of place a respectable lady visits.”
“Zabrie … ah, yes, Abdar mentioned the place, didn’t he?” Ian frowned. “Abdar could have lied about its purpose.”
“He didn’t.”
“How do you know?”
“I spent two nights here last week.”
“You didn’t tell me.”
Ruel murmured, “I’m hardly accustomed to consulting with anyone when I visit a whorehouse.”
“I don’t suppose you found out anything about Kartauk?”
“No, I could hardly go from whore to whore asking questions.”
“Then why did you come here?”
“Before you dig for a rich vein you have to survey the claim,” Ruel said. “And this particular survey was not without its pleasures. Zabrie is an ardent student of the Kama Sutra.”
“What’s that?”
“The eighty-eight positions of pleasure.”
“Heathen debauchery.” Ian was silent a moment before he was unable to restrain his curiosity. “How many did you try?”
Ruel chuckled. “Six. What else could you expect when I paid the lady only two visits?” His smile faded as his gaze went back to the house. “I wonder how well versed our Miss Barnaby is in the joys of Kama Sutra. It seems you were wrong about her.”
“Not necessarily. Perhaps this is where Kartauk is hiding.”
“Perhaps.” Ruel smiled. “But not likely.” “Why not?”
“Abdar knew she came here, and I doubt if he would have neglected to search the place. No, it’s more reasonable she’s missing her lover, needed an outlet for her appetites, and chose to make herself available. Zabrie told me a few of the so-called prim and proper wives of the officers of the fort come here on occasion. She furnishes them with fanciful masks and a dimly lit room, and a diverting time is had by all.” He kept his tone deliberately light to cover the chaotic mixture of outrage, satisfaction, and disappointment he was experiencing as he thought about Jane Barnaby lying naked in one of those dusky rooms. Satisfaction that he had been right and she was fair prey, outrage somehow connected with the sense of possession he had been fighting. As for the disappointment … Enough of this soul-searching, he thought impatiently. He started across the street.
“Where are you going?”
“Why, to offer my services.” He smiled recklessly over his shoulder. “I’m tired of watching and waiting. It’s time I took a more personal interest in the lady.”
“You’re going to ask Zabrie to send her to you?”
“Not by name. It’s not necessary. I doubt if there will be more than one white woman at Zabrie’s tonight.”
“Wait. I’ll go with you.”
“And sacrifice your chastity for my benefit?” Ruel asked mockingly. “I wouldn’t even consider it. Maggie would never forgive me.”
“Margaret,” Ian corrected him. “And I have no intention of indulging my carnal urges.”
“I was joking.” Ruel gazed at his brother curiously. “You’ve been affianced to her since she was a lass of sixteen. You’re saying you’re still faithful to her after all these years of waiting?”
“Of course.”
“There’s no ‘of course’ about it. I’m not sure you weren’t destined for the priesthood.” He smiled. “And a priest would stick out at Zabrie’s like the proverbial sore thumb. Stay here and wait for me.”
“You are not welcome here.” Zabrie scowled at Jane across the room. “You have brought me too much trouble.”
“I’ve also given you a substantial amount of rupees to lighten those troubles.”
“True.” Zabrie’s scowl vanished as she turned back to look at herself in the mirror of her vanity. “And it pleases me to make things difficult for His Highness. I suppose you may sit down while I prepare myself for the evening.”
Jane sat down on the satin-cushioned divan. “Has Abdar been back since he searched the house?”
Zabrie shook her head. “I told him you came only to make yourself available to my clients.” She smiled slyly. “I said it was the only way you could enjoy yourself without exposing yourself to shame. Was that not clever of me?”
“Very clever.” Jane came across the room and seated herself in the chair beside the table. “We must talk.”
“Li Sung?” Zabrie straightened warily. “He has complained?”
“No, on the contrary, he visits you too often.”
“Because I am very, very good.” Zabrie smiled complacently as she dipped her brush into the pot of kohl on the vanity. “After all, is that not why you came to me?”
“Tell him you can’t see him so often. It’s dangerous for him to come here now.”
“Very well.” She carefully drew a line around her left eye. “The fee will be the same, however.”
Jane nodded. “I didn’t expect anything else, but make up a good excuse. I won’t have him hurt.”
Zabrie drew a line around the other eye. “He thinks he is a fine lover. He wouldn’t believe anything else now.” She looked up with a satisfied smile. “I have done well with him. Is that all?”
Jane shook her head. “Kartauk.”
Zabrie’s smile faded. “It’s too dangerous.”
“You said Pachtal and His Highness hadn’t been back.”
“That does not mean I am not watched.” Zabrie painted her lips vermilion. “You will have to think of another way of getting him out of Kasanpore. I will not risk bringing His Highness’s anger down on my head.”
“I thought you enjoyed the thought of foiling Abdar.”
“On a small scale. But he gains more power every day and it will soon be too dangerous to displease His Highness.”
“It’s not a danger if—”
“I beg pardon to interrupt.” The same doe-eyed young girl who had brought Jane to Zabrie’s chamber stood in the doorway. “But there is a man here, Zabrie. You said—”
“I’m busy, Lenar. Give him another woman.”
“But you told me to tell you when he came back.”
Zabrie turned quickly to look at the girl. “It’s the Scot?”
The girl nodded. “He says he’s in the mood for something different. He wants a white woman….”
“Oh, does he?” A tiny smile touched Zabrie’s lips. “I believe I might have to change his mind.” She nodded to a door across the dressing room. “Take him to the chamber next door and get him settled. Tell him I’ll be with him in a few moments.” As the girl left the room she turned to Jane. “You’ll have to leave. I have a customer.”
“I’m also a customer. Let him wait.”
Zabrie smiled as she picked up her silver-backed brush and began to run it through her long dark hair. “But I don’t want him to wait. He is … unusual. A challenge. I’ve never before met a Westerner who had the knowledge and experience to dominate me. At times I was not sure whether I was really in control.”
“You have British blood, that makes you half a Westerner yourself.”
Zabrie’s vermilion lips thinned. “The British officers who come here to use me would not agree. They see only an alien with dark skin that excites them and they condescend to try me.” She stood up and straightened the flowing saffron-colored drapings of her gown. “And once they’ve had me, I have them.”
“You hate them?”
“I do not like them any more than I like my own people who consider me untouchable because of my mongrel birth. However, it does not matter. Soon I will be so rich I will not need either of them.” Zabrie smiled mockingly at Jane in the mirror. “We are both outcasts in our fashion, are we not? You come here in your men’s clothes, sometimes so weary you can scarcely stand. There is a simpler life than the one you lead. Why not give up that foolish railroad and come here and let me show you where the easy riches lie?”
Jane shook her head.
“You should do well enough.” Zabrie regarded her critically. “You’re young and not unattractive. Sometimes the British tire of the exotic and wish to indulge themselves with one of their own race.”
“Like your Scot?”
She frowned. “He meant only to tease me. He would be disappointed if I sent someone else.” She stood up, her henna-tinted fingers smoothing the sheer material veiling her breasts. “What do you say?”
“No.”
She shrugged. “I’ll wait. You’ll change your mind. When a woman is alone and without protection, there is only one road for her to take.”
The certainty in Zabrie’s tone sent a lightning bolt of fear through Jane. “I said no! I’m not alone, and even if I were, I don’t need anybody else. I can protect myself. I’m not a whore. I’ll never be a whore.”
Zabrie drew herself up haughtily. “It seems you, too, think a whore is beneath your touch.”
Jane drew a deep breath, trying to regain control. Her fierce response to Zabrie’s words had caught her by surprise. “I didn’t say that.”
“You did not need to say it.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt you and certainly not condemn you. My mother was a harlot and in a far worse place than this. You must make your own choices, but …” She hesitated and then burst out, “I would rather die than sell myself.”
Zabrie’s gaze narrowed on her face. “You are afraid. Why?”
“I’m not afraid.” Zabrie gazed at her in disbelief. Jane explained haltingly, “Such a life takes away your freedom, you become a slave.”
“It is all how one looks upon the act. If a woman is good enough, it is the man who becomes the slave.” Zabrie turned away from the mirror. “You must go now.”
“Kartauk.”
Zabrie smiled as she saw Jane’s determined expression. “You don’t give up, do you? We may disagree on many things, but it’s one quality we have in common.”
“Will you at least provide a shelter for Kartauk in the city if I need it?”
“If you can arrange it so that there is no danger to me, I will consid—”
The door was flung open and the young girl Zabrie had called Lenar rushed into the room. “Pachtal! He came in a few minutes ago. He demands to see you.”
“What?” Zabrie whirled to face Jane. “You fool!”
“He didn’t follow me.” Jane stood up. “I know Pachtal and would have noticed him. He must have been watching this house.”
“And saw you come in. What difference does it make how he came to be here? He’s here.”
Jane felt a thrill of fear as she remembered Pachtal’s vicious expression, the agony as he had twisted her arm. “How can I get out of the house without him seeing me?”
“It’s too late.” Zabrie grasped her wrist and dragged her toward the door across the room. “He’ll probably search the place for you, but I’ll try to keep him away from here.”
“How?”
“The usual way. Pachtal and Abdar didn’t hesitate to use me when they were here before. I’ll call you when it’s safe.” She opened the door, pushed Jane into the adjoining room, and slammed the door.