The Tiger Prince (28 page)

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Authors: Iris Johansen

BOOK: The Tiger Prince
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“Then why is your hand shaking?”

Pickering was right, Ruel noticed in surprise. His hand holding the glass was trembling. He exerted his will and steadied it before he said, “I’ve not been getting a great deal of rest. That doesn’t mean I’m ill.”

“I’m sure Abdar will be sorry to hear that.”

He glanced up. “Abdar?”

“Pachtal’s been displaying a good deal of curiosity on his behalf. He came to see me last week, asking questions about your purchase of Cinnidar.”

“What kind of questions?”

“The most pertinent was why you saw fit to buy it at all. Naturally, since you hadn’t seen fit to confide in me, I couldn’t oblige him.” He shrugged. “But I received the impression his interest was going to continue in the matter. It’s for the best you’ll be leaving Kasanpore.”

“You filed the bill of sale with the magistrates in Calcutta?”

Pickering nodded. “All duly registered. Cinnidar is definitely yours. Abdar can’t touch it.”

“Legally.”

“As long as his father’s alive, you won’t have to worry about Abdar interfering in the maharajah’s affairs.”

“We shall see.”

“I just thought you should know.” He paused. “Pachtal’s also been seen wandering around Lanpur Gorge. Can you think of any reason why he should be interested in the investigation?”

Kartauk. The only reason for Pachtal to be at the gorge was if he suspected Kartauk had not been swept
away by the river. Then the last word of Pickering’s sentence hit home. “Investigation? What investigation?”

Pickering looked at him in surprise. “The investigation of the train wreck. The maharajah asked us to look into the reason for it.” He grimaced. “Not a pleasant task. I’ve always liked Patrick Reilly and hated being responsible for depriving him of his fee.”

He went still. “What in hell are you talking about? Patrick told me the force of the waters pouring through the gorge and hitting the supports caused a vibration that weakened the rails.”

Pickering regretfully shook his head. “My engineer tells me if those rails hadn’t been of inferior quality, they would never have broken.”

Ruel felt as if he had been struck in the belly with a knotted fist. He said carefully, “Are you saying that Ian’s injury could have been prevented?”

Pickering blinked. “I thought you knew. Patrick must have told Miss Barnaby about the inquiry.”

“If he did, she didn’t see fit to inform me.” He slowly rose to his feet. “I believe I’ll go pay a visit to Patrick Reilly. I have a few questions to put to him.”

“I’m afraid you won’t get any answers from him. He’s usually drunk by noon these days.” He paused. “Why don’t you ask Miss Barnaby those questions? According to Patrick, she was very much aware of what was going on.”

Ruel went still. “What are you trying to say?”

Pickering shifted uncomfortably. “Patrick tried to defend her, but several merchants told us she was solely responsible for ordering supplies and he finally admitted she had ordered the rails. It’s a damn shame he was fool enough to trust a woman. It’s probably destroyed his career.”

I had to cut corners.

The door cost us too much.

Jane’s words at the gorge came rushing back to him.

It’s my fault.

“I have to go,” he muttered hoarsely. “I have to leave …”

He was barely aware of Pickering’s concerned voice calling his name as he turned and stalked out of the club.

Jane’s hands clenched nervously on the arms of the chair when she heard Ruel enter the bungalow. She had told herself she wanted this confrontation over, but now she would have done anything to avoid it. Perhaps he would go directly into the bedroom to see Ian and—

“Jane,” Ruel called softly.

He didn’t sound angry. Perhaps Pickering hadn’t told him, she thought hopefully. Dear God, she had prayed Pickering wouldn’t say anything. “On the veranda. Was there a problem with Colonel Pickering?”

He appeared in the doorway, silhouetted against the lamplight streaming from the living room.

“Why should there be a problem?” he asked.

She tensed as she realized a strange note underlay the softness of his tone, like a coiled spring stretched taut. “Because you’ve been gone for hours. It’s after ten o’clock.”

“Was caring for Ian such a burden for you?”

“No, I just wondered if—” She stopped and then said, “I’ve already given Ian his dinner and laudanum. He should sleep through the night.”

“Even with the laudanum he seldom does that. At first he woke up screaming from the pain, now he only lies there and weeps.” His tone harshened. “Do you know what that does to a man? It fills him with shame. I have to pretend I’m asleep or he begs me for pardon for being so weak. God, weak!”

He did know. She got up from the chair. “I believe I’ll go to bed. Good night, Ruel.”

“Not yet. There’s something I want to ask you.”

It was coming. She braced herself. “What?”

“About the rails.”

She had thought she was ready but still went rigid. “What a violent reaction. Does the thought disturb you?”

“Ruel, I—”

“It disturbed me so much that after I left the Officers’ Club I took a long walk.” He paused. “To Lanpur Gorge.”

She moistened her lips. “Why?”

“I wanted to see the rails for myself. I looked at those shattered rails and I remembered Ian….” He lifted his head and gazed directly into her eyes. She inhaled sharply as she saw the torment and rage burning in him, consuming him, reaching out to consume her as well. “And I decided I’d kill Patrick Reilly.”

“No!” The rejection burst instinctively from her lips.

“Why not? No one deserves it more.” He paused. “Unless it’s you.”

She was silent, staring helplessly at him.

“Why don’t you say something?” The violence she had sensed was suddenly unleashed. “Goddammit, don’t just stand there. Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me Pickering is wrong.”

“What did he say?”

“He said you were responsible for ordering the supplies. Is that true?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “It’s true.”

He looked as if she had struck him. “Did you mean it when you said the wreck was your fault?”

She flinched. “I meant it.”

“Damn you!” He took a step forward, his hands closing on her throat. “And all to make things safe and tidy for your Patrick.” His eyes scorched her. “For God’s sake, why didn’t you lie to me. I didn’t want to believe it. I would have done anything not to believe it.” His grasp tightened on her throat with bruising force. “I don’t want to do—”

She struggled desperately to force air into her starved lungs as his hands tightened even more. She was going to die. Her hands flew to her throat, trying to loosen his grip, staring helplessly up into his strained face. “Please …” It came out as a croak and she didn’t think he heard her. His expression was blind, tortured, twisted.

A shudder racked his body. His hands loosened,
tightened fiercely, then slowly released their grip on her throat. “Why can’t I do it?” he muttered. “You deserve it. No one could deserve it more than—” He whirled away from her and strode toward Ian’s bedroom. “If you want to live, stay out of my sight.” She expected him to slam the door, but the very restraint with which he closed it was chilling.

Her shaking hand went to her bruised throat; it was already starting to ache. She had never been closer to death. Would she have been able to keep her promise and remain silent about Patrick’s guilt if Ruel hadn’t changed his mind at the last minute?

Clever Patrick. Ruel would not have stopped if his hands had been around Patrick’s neck. It could be Patrick had realized whatever punishment Ruel inflicted on her, he would not take her life.

And God knows, she also deserved punishment, she thought wearily. Her willful blindness was as much to blame as Patrick’s wicked self-indulgence. Perhaps she deserved to lose any chance for happiness with Ruel.

She turned and moved slowly, heavily, toward her bedroom.

She must stop loving him, she thought dully. Now he would use that weapon or any other to hurt her. She must look on him as the enemy and protect herself. Yes, she must stop loving him.

She didn’t expect to sleep but must have dozed, for she woke in the middle of the night to see Ruel standing a few feet from her bed. She went rigid, scrambling back against the headboard.

“Rather like the death scene from Othello, isn’t it? With one difference, there’s nothing innocent about you.” The light from the oil lamp he carried cast a halo about him and revealed the bitterness of his smile. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to kill you. I’ve gotten past that point now.” He paused. “Perhaps it’s better that I find myself incapable of murdering you. Death is too
final a revenge. Then you’d be out of this vale of tears while Ian prays every night to follow you.”

At that moment she would not have quarreled with death. Life was too painful. Every word he spoke flayed her.

He sat down on the bed and put the lamp on the bedside table. “You’re trembling.” He leisurely unbuttoned her nightgown. “Are you afraid I’m going to rape you? I could, you know. It doesn’t seem to make any difference if I hate you or not. I only have to look at you to turn hard. I’m not sure I’ll ever stop wanting you.” He pushed aside the cotton fabric and a warm hand cupped her breast.

She inhaled sharply, her breasts lifting and falling under his touch. “Please.” She moistened her lips. “You don’t want to do this.”

“But I do.” He took her hand and put it on his arousal. “See?” His thumb moved back and forth across her nipple until it became engorged, pointed, and excruciatingly sensitive. “And you’re beginning to want it too. I wouldn’t even have to rape you. I could take you on this bed. I could drive in and out of you and make you scream with pleasure.”

His eyes were glittering wildly in the lamplight, a reckless smile curving his lips. His beauty burned more brightly than it had that first night she had seen him at Zabrie’s. The very room seemed to throb with the emotion he emitted.

Dear God, he was right. She did want him. She wanted to soothe his torment and her own in the only way left open to her. What madness made her not care how tortured and degrading it would be to couple with him? Her body wasn’t concerned how he felt about her, it just wanted to assuage the need he was arousing. He might never touch her again after tonight. She wanted this time, this touch.

“But I don’t want to give you pleasure,” he said softly. “Not even to satisfy myself.” His hand left her breast and he jerked her nightgown closed. “So I have to find another way.”

He had probably never meant to take her. It had just been a way to make her acknowledge her own weakness and his power over her. She swallowed to ease the tightness of her throat. “You have to know how deeply I regret what happened to Ian.”

“That’s not good enough. I want you to hurt as much as Ian is hurting.” His voice suddenly exploded with harshness. “I’m not going to let you walk away free, Jane.”

“I didn’t expect you to.”

He laughed mirthlessly. “The hell you didn’t. You thought if you threw open your home to Ian and smiled sweetly at me, that would be enough compensation. Oh no, I’m going to make sure you feel just as much a prisoner as Ian is going to be. I can’t be there at Glenclaren with him, but you will. You’ll tend to his needs and listen to his cries in the night and know it’s your fault he’s suffering.”

Her eyes widened. “You want me to go with him to Glenclaren?”

“You’re going to pay your debt and, if you don’t, I’m going to make sure your Patrick suffers more than Ian before I kill him.”

“You don’t have to threaten me,” she said quietly. “I’m perfectly willing to go to Glenclaren. You had only to ask me.”

“I have no intention of asking you. I’m telling you what your first payment is going to be.”

“First payment?”

“Did you think a few years of servitude was going to be your only punishment? Given the opportunity to consider the possibilities, I’m not so lacking in imagination I won’t find a better way to hurt you.”

She was tempted to tell him she was already hurting, but she knew he wouldn’t believe her. She had never seen such bitterness as she was now confronting. “You’ll have to do as you see fit. I’ll do everything I can to help Ian.” She reached up and rubbed her aching temple. The whole world seemed full of pain tonight. “But Li
Sung and Kartauk must come with me. It’s dangerous for them to stay here.”

“By all means, take your little covey. Ian will need all the help he can get.”

“And Patrick.” The words came out of nowhere, startling her. She had thought she was done with Patrick, but the habit of years would not be broken in spite of her disgust and revulsion. She could not leave him to face Ruel’s deadly wrath.

His gaze narrowed on her face. “I was thinking of taking dear Patrick with me to Cinnidar to assure your continued support.”

“He’d be in your way,” she said quickly.

“You think I might kill him.” He was silent a moment. “Maybe you’re right. If I started thinking about Ian, I couldn’t promise not to lose my temper and push the bastard into the canyon. Besides, I don’t need a hostage. I’ll be in touch with Maggie and I’ll know if you’re keeping your word.”

“I’ll keep my word.” She added wearily, “And perhaps you’ll change your mind in time.”

“I won’t change my mind.” He turned and moved toward the door. “I told you I have a long memory.”

The
Bonnie Lady
sailed out of Narinth harbor three weeks later with Jane, Ian, Li Sung, Patrick, and Kartauk on board.

Li Sung glanced back at Ruel standing alone on the dock “He’s staring at you.”

“Is he?” She knew very well Ruel was staring at her but did not look back. She had made the mistake of meeting his gaze a moment before as the ship had left the dock and had felt bound, enchained. It was exactly how he meant her to feel. He wanted to remind her this parting was only temporary and that she would never be able to escape him.

“He behaves very strangely with you now. I don’t suppose you’d like to tell me why he’s—”

“No, I would not.” While hiding in the inn in
Narinth, he and Kartauk had not heard of the inquiry and she had no intention of enlightening him. He was already overprotective of her and she knew very well how he would react to her shouldering Patrick’s blame.

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