Chapter Thirty-Seven
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Thirty-Seven
Constance should have been worrying about the platoon of sepoys on their tail or relishing in the thrill of searching for supernatural artifacts in a legendary ashram.
Instead, her thoughts were glued to Neil.
The results of Constance’s experiment in the stepwell had been conclusive. The man had set her on fire.
Constance had indulged in her share of flirtations in the past. There had been staid kisses and sloppy kisses, firmly not to be repeated. Other kisses might have had potential if it hadn’t felt as though she and the gentleman in question were dancing to different tunes.
There had been nothing out of tune about Neil Fairfax.
Constance could still remember the way his lips had felt grazing and tugging at her own. How his hand had gripped her hip as he pulled her closer, trails of electric heat singeing her skin with every touch.
Constance’s attraction to Neil wasn’t new. She would hardly have been considering taking him as a lover back in Egypt if she hadn’t appreciated the view he offered—but she had never suspected that Ellie’s scholarly brother was hiding a sensual beast under that staid, play-by-the-rules exterior.
Now that she knew it was there, Constance couldn’t help but see it every time she looked at him.
His shirt was damp from their plunge through the edge of the falls. It clung to the firm line of his shoulders and the curve of his spine.
Constance could run her fingers up that arc until she reached the soft, damp hair at the nape of his neck, threaded her fingers into it, and hauled him down for another go.
He had tasted like coffee and dark spice.
Smelled like amber and old books. His eyes grew more fascinating the longer she looked at them, notes of green mingling with stormy gray and earthy brown.
The light hint of stubble on his jaw was a touch of ruggedness that belied his proper exterior, hinting at something wild underneath.
Well, she supposed she’d had more than a hint now—and it had only deepened her interest in exploring further.
Not that she’d mentioned any of that to Neil yet.
Constance knew him too well to think he’d be comfortable throwing himself into a wild temporary affair.
Such a move would also be complicated by the fact that, as far as the rest of the world knew, Neil was her fiancé…
at least until Constance was through having Indian princes thrown at her by her well-meaning family.
Then they could break things off—but what would that mean for their relationship? Ladies didn’t stay friends with the gentlemen who had jilted them.
Well, Constance would find a way to do it. She was not giving Neil up over this. He was a part of her life now, whether he liked it or not. Whatever rules there were, she would break them—and drag Neil along with her.
It was only a shame that he had refused to take off his shirt.
Adam led them through the forest of bones. Here and there, the voices of Borthwick’s men echoed off the pockmarked red walls of the ravine, but Adam steered their party along the cascade, where the rush masked the sound of their movements.
They waded across the stream, water soaking Constance to her thighs. She missed her footing, and the current pushed her into a slide.
Neil threw his arm around her waist to steady her.
His chest pressed against her back. Uneven breath brushed her ear.
Constance shivered.
He quickly released her.
They caught up to the others under a flame-hued poinciana that sprawled near the base of the cliffs.
Adam studied the cave Neil had identified from their hiding place.
The opening sat three stories up from the ground, fronted by a shadowy line of six chipped and weathered columns.
A narrow set of steps carved into the stone was the only way to reach it.
“This shouldn’t be visible from the camp until we get to the top,” Adam concluded.
“It’s still a risk,” Ellie pointed out. “We don’t know where Borthwick’s men are looking for us.”
“I don’t see any other way to get there,” Adam admitted apologetically.
Neil warily considered the climb. “Are you sure it’s safe?”
“Of course it is, Stuffy,” Constance countered.
Before he could argue, she darted onto the steps, scrambling up with easy confidence. Reaching the top, she dodged into the shadow of the colonnade.
The columns fronted a narrow veranda carved from the face of the cliff. Constance pressed herself against the back wall as she studied the landscape below for any shout of alarm or crack of rifle fire.
The gorge remained quiet save for the rush of the nearby waterfall.
She called down the stairs to the others in a pointed whisper. “All clear!”
While she waited for them to join her, she took a moment to appreciate the view—which was stunning.
The colonnade was positioned to offer a broad vista of the shimmering silver falls.
Majestic walls of ocher stone framed a sky full of silently roiling gray clouds.
The cliffs were draped with tumbling clusters of gold and purple blooms that kissed the air with their fragrance.
Neil arrived, leaning against one of the columns as though his knees were shaky. “That was terrifying.”
Constance found herself staring at the lingering damp that glistened on the skin of his throat.
She wondered if he would let her taste it.
He peered out from behind the column to take in the view. His expression shifted to one of solemn wonder. “This is…”
Lust shifted into a softly thrilling sense of kinship. Constance knew exactly what he meant. “Yes,” she quietly agreed, coming to stand beside him.
A gust of heady wind lifted her loose, tangled hair. A low rumble punctuated the silence, the first promise of the gathering storm.
Ellie stumbled as she reached the veranda.
Neil darted out to catch her. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” she assured him with a hint of irritation. “It’s only these dashed bite wounds on my leg don’t appreciate me walking around quite so much.”
Neil paled. “I’m sorry—did you say bite wounds?”
“Was it a tiger?” Constance asked, her interest piquing.
“Fish, actually,” Ellie returned automatically. She wiped a line of sweat off her brow. “Goodness. That was precarious, even for my tastes. I do hope—”
She trailed off as Adam lurched into view. He threw himself around one of the columns and hung onto it as his knees buckled.
“Ssss’ fine,” he slurred queasily. “Just… need a lil minute…”
He started to slide off the column. Neil dragged him to safety. Adam remained on his back on the floor, staring up at the stone ceiling of the veranda.
Constance peered down at him. “That’s right. You aren’t very fond of heights, are you?”
“Nope,” Adam replied succinctly, making absolutely no move to get up.
“But were we seen?” Neil demanded nervously.
“I haven’t heard any gunshots,” Constance replied reasonably.
Neil swallowed uncomfortably. “That’s… reassuring.”
Ellie moved to the far end of the rock-cut overhang. “The entrance to the chamber is over here.”
Constance felt an enticing thrill of imminent discovery. They were standing at the threshold of one of the most important stories in India’s history. Who knew what wonders would be inside, waiting for them to discover?
She prodded Adam’s bare flank with the toe of her boot, not bothering to hide her impatience. “Can you move yet?”
“Sure,” Adam groaned. “I’ll get right on that.”
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Ten minutes later, they finally stepped inside.
The rock-cut chamber was cool and dark. The space was graciously sized compared to the smaller cave they had hid in earlier. Ample light poured through the entrance, illuminating a slab carved into the wall for a bed and a niche that likely served as an altar.
There were no artifacts, only a few old birds’ nests and a pile of shelled nuts from some industrious rodent. Thick spiderwebs draped the corners, and bird droppings stained the rock below a natural ledge. Something cooed with mild alarm as they moved deeper into the room.
As she hobbled inside, Ellie blazed with excitement as though the rugged ceiling was the eighth wonder of the world. “This was clearly adapted from a natural formation in the rock!”
“I think these scratches might actually be Indo-Aryan petroglyphs,” Neil burst out happily.
“That carving’s nice,” Adam commented.
He was looking at the wall that faced the entrance, which was decorated with images of tangled vines rich with flowers. Children played with delicate deer while lovers fed each other sweets. The artwork was weathered, time softening its details.
The nesting birds cooed again in the corner.
“If this was Sita’s chamber, it doesn’t seem very queenly,” Constance commented, trying to hide her disappointment.
“Isn’t an ashram kinda like a monastery?” Adam asked.
“They are places of contemplation and spiritual work,” Ellie offered as she peered under a pile of leafy debris.
Adam shrugged. “Then maybe that’s what she was looking for, instead of another palace.”
Constance was struck by his words.
She had always thought of Sita as the victim in Rama’s story—cast out by her husband, weeping and powerless, over accusations that he’d already known were false. Constance could imagine her throwing herself onto the hard stone bed cut into the wall as she bewailed her terrible fate.
But the woman Neil had seen from across the valley had left him consumed not with sympathy but with a terrified holy awe as he raised his hand in the mudra for fearlessness.
She thought of Aai’s words in the Kali temple.
Sita is both more powerful and more complicated than you give her credit for.
A soft, insistent wind blew into the chamber. The dry leaves in the corners stirred, quietly dancing.
“I’m not sure there’s anything here,” Ellie concluded reluctantly.
Adam leaned against the wall as he continued to recover from his vertigo. “Maybe we should try the other door.”
Constance’s attention sharpened. “The other door?”
Adam jerked his head toward the deeper shadows at the back of the chamber.
Constance hurried over and realized that one of the shadows wasn’t a shadow at all. Instead, the wall of the cave bent sharply to reveal a set of stairs carved into a tunnel that descended deeper into the cliff. Soft gray light painted the red stone at the bottom.
“There’s something else down there,” Constance said wonderingly.
Neil pressed closer to peer over her shoulder. “What is it?”
His chest brushed against her back as he forgot to keep his distance in his excitement at the discovery. Constance felt a less sacred sort of tingle at his proximity.
Goodness—was he going to have that effect on her all the time from now on?
“Ladies first,” Adam offered with a wave.
The sound of the waterfall faded as they descended, replaced by the scrape of boots on stone and the soft whisper of grass in the breeze.
Constance stepped outside to find herself someplace impossible.
Walls of mossy red stone rose up to a circular opening forty feet above that framed a patch of stormy gray clouds.
The level ground was grown over with softly whispering grass and flowering herbs that scented the air with basil and mint.
Vines tumbled down from above and shade-loving creepers climbed up the walls.
“It’s a sinkhole,” Adam said, his voice numb with surprise.
“But what’s that building?”
Constance pointed at the structure that stood in the center of the natural enclosure. It consisted of a single story, octagonal in shape, with a flat roof. The exterior stonework was carved with false pillars that lent a timeless grace to the building.
The entrance faced them. There was just enough light in the interior that Constance could make out the shape of shadowy columns.
“I think it’s another temple,” Ellie answered softly.
Wind gusted through the space, gracefully tossing the grass and flowers. The building looked like something from beyond time, as though they had stumbled into one of Neil’s visions.
Constance was consumed by the odd sense that a single step forward would break some sort of spell and send ancient, inevitable gears spinning forward.
They fell into a quietly reverent line as they faced the building. Adam stood at the end, bare-chested and battered. Ellie was beside him, the knot of her bun falling into tendrils, her cheeks smudged with dirt.
Constance couldn’t be looking any better, with her hair tangled and her shirt open to her corset.
Neil stepped into place beside her, his sword strapped across his back, his spectacles glinting over the scrape on his cheek.
“We probably don’t want to waste too much time,” he noted nervously.
Another low roll of thunder rumbled from above.
“Then what are we waiting for?” Constance demanded and strode inside.