The Tiger Prince (30 page)

Kartauk scowled. “What else could I expect in this cold, barbaric country.” He left the chamber.

“And good riddance.” Margaret crossed to the bed and sat down beside Ian. “I’ve arranged for the vicar to come to the castle in three days’ time and marry us, so you must rest and get your strength back from the journey.”

“We’re not going to marry.”

“Of course we are. Not that I didn’t expect this foolishness from you.” She gently pushed the hair back from his forehead. “I’ve watched you trying to save Ruel from himself since the moment he was born, and now you think I need rescuing.”

“I won’t be another burden to you. Your father—”

“Is fading fast and will soon no longer enter into the situation.”

His gaze flew to her face. “You didn’t write me.”

“Why should I? Would it have helped him?”

“I would have come back to you.”

Her expression softened. “Aye, I know.”

“I share your sorrow.”

She grimaced. “I wish I could feel sorrow, but we both know my father is not a loving man. At times I’ve thought perhaps God grew weary of his pretense at illness and gave him this true reason for lingering in bed.” She smiled with an effort. “Which will probably cause him to send a bolt of lightning to strike me down.”

“Never,” Ian said softly. “No one could have been kinder and more dutiful than you, Margaret.”

“He’s my father.” She shrugged. “And we both know duty and honor make the only difference between civilization and savagery.” She changed the subject. “And speaking of savagery, how is Ruel?”

“The same.” Ian paused. “And different.”

“Well, that’s clear. However, he appears to be displaying a newfound sense of responsibility. I received a draft for two thousand pounds from him yesterday with word he would send more as it became available.”

“What!” He immediately shook his head. “That left him only a thousand for his own use. Send it back to him.”

“I’ll do no such thing. Glenclaren needs it. You need it,” Margaret said. “It will be good for Ruel to think of someone else for a change.”

“He saved my life at risk of his own.”

“Oh, Ruel’s very good at those kinds of gestures. It’s self-discipline he’s lacking.”

Ian laughed. “Lord, I’ve missed you, Margaret.” His smile vanished. “But I will not let you wed a cripple. You’ve wasted enough of your life already.”

“Who is to know if you will remain a cripple?” She went on quickly as he opened his lips to protest. “Besides, a strong body is all very well, but a strong heart and mind are more important.”

“I cannot give you children. You love children, Margaret.”

“Children may still be possible. I will talk to the physician.”

He shook his head.

“And many couples are childless. God may have not seen fit to give us a child even if you were hale and hearty.”

“No, Margaret.”

“Very well, I will wait to wed you … until you’re able to sit up for the ceremony. By that time you’ll be on your way to recovery and won’t be so stubborn.”

“It can’t happen. My back is—”

“It will happen. I’ll make it happen.” She leaned forward and kissed him swiftly on the forehead. “Now, try to rest, the journey must have tired you.”

“Everything tires me.”

“It will get better.” She rose to her feet. “While I fetch a bowl of stew I’ll send Jock in to bathe you. I suppose you’re too proud to let me perform that task?” She nodded as she saw his expression. “I thought as much.” She moved toward the door. “I can think of no reason why God gave the masculine gender such power over females when they’re all so lacking in good sense.”

Margaret closed the door behind her and immediately closed her eyes tightly as wave after wave of the anger, sorrow, and despair she could not allow anyone to see washed over her. Dear God, poor Ian.

And poor Margaret. Why was she expected to endure this new trial? Sometimes God seemed most unfair.

“You have an interesting face. I may be persuaded to do a head of you.”

Her eyes flicked open to see John Kartauk standing a few yards away from her. She flushed as she realized he must have witnessed her moment of weakness. No, perhaps not, for his gaze on her face was appraising but completely dispassionate. She cleared her throat. “I thought I told you to go find yourself a workshop.”

“I did.” He was still staring at her face. “I’ve decided to use the scullery.”

“The scullery?” she repeated, shocked. “You can’t use—”

“Of course I can. I need a furnace, and it will save me the trouble of building one. I can wall up that huge fireplace.” He took a step closer and lifted her chin on the curve of his finger. “At first I saw nothing worthwhile in your face, but I believe the jawline is tolerable and the molding of the cheekbones—”

She slapped his hand away. “I will not pose for you.”

He looked hurt. “You don’t realize the honor I do you, madam. After all, I did refuse Queen Victoria.”

Her eyes widened. “The queen asked you to—”

“Well, no, I didn’t give her the opportunity. It never pays to insult royalty, but I had already decided to refuse her.” He turned and strode down the hall. “When you regain your senses, come and tell me. I must go to the scullery and toss out all those pots and pans.”

She hurried after him. “Toss out—you’ll do no such thing!”

“Why not? They’re in my way.” “Are you mad? We all must eat. You may not have the scullery.”

“Beauty has more value than food.” He frowned. “I
will compromise. I’ll permit you to have the scullery in the evening for your cooking.”

“You will permit …” She drew a deep breath and said through her teeth, “You toss out one cooking pot and I’ll use you for tomorrow’s stew meat.”

He studied her expression over his shoulder. “I believe you would do it.” He suddenly chuckled. “You’d find me tough fare, madam. I’m no tender rabbit.”

“One pot,” she enunciated clearly.

“Oh, very well.” He shrugged. “I noticed a space almost as adequate in the stable, but you must help me clear it and tell Jock to find me bricks to build my furnace.”

“Jock will be too busy tending Ian to indulge you in your foolishness, and I certainly have no time.”

Kartauk sighed. “I’ve come to a land of uncaring savages who offer me no help and will probably manipulate my talent to suit themselves.”

“You accuse me of manipulating you because I won’t let you—” She broke off as realization dawned. Kartauk was not the one who was being manipulated. “You had no intention of using the scullery,” she said flatly.

“No? Then why would I say I intended to do so?”

She did not know the answer. Yet perhaps … kindness, an attempt to distract her from her grief without damaging her pride? He had certainly seen her weakness and acted with faultless accuracy to dispel it. No, she must be mistaken. They were strangers, and he could not possibly read her so well.

“I have no idea why you would be so devious,” she said tardy. “I’ve heard men of the East delight in such convoluted maneuvering. No doubt it’s an affliction of your heathen blood.”

“No doubt,” he said blandly. “But I’m sure a Godfearing Scottish lady such as yourself will have no trouble seeing through my heathen trickery.”

Before she could answer, he strode ahead of her down the hall and started down the stairs.

•     •     •

It was after nine o’clock in the evening when Jane and Li Sung finally finished cleaning the scullery and climbed the stone stairs to the front hall.

“Sweet heaven, I’m tired.” She arched her back to rid it of stiffness. “And my knees feel as if they’re black and blue from scrubbing that blasted floor.”

“Go to bed. You will feel better in the morning.” Li Sung opened the front door.

“Where are you going?”

“To the stable. Kartauk has found a place for his workshop and quarters. I will live with him.”

“But you have a chamber here.”

“I’m used to Kartauk.”

“But will you be comfortable there?”

“More comfortable than here. The temple had far more potential for comfort than this castle.”

“Then we must make the most of what we have. We’ve done it before.”

“Yes.” Li Sung paused. “But this is different.”

She knew what he meant. Glenclaren seemed foreign to both of them. Neither she nor Li Sung belonged in castles and were far more accustomed to building than maintaining and repairing. “We’ll get used to it.”

“Because you must help Ian? I would judge Margaret MacDonald is all he needs.” He smiled faintly. “More than he needs.”

“She cannot do everything. While she helps him regain his strength, I’ll do all I can to help his Glenclaren.” She added, “But you don’t have to stay here if you’re not happy.”

“What would I do? Search out Patrick in that lodging house in Edinburgh and share his bottle?” he asked bitterly. “I admit there have been times when I’ve been tempted to choose that escape.”

Her eyes widened. “You have?”

“Why do you think I rarely permit myself to drink liquor? It’s not easy being a cripple, to limp instead of run.”

She reached out and gently touched his arm. “I know, Li Sung.”

“No, you do not know.” His gaze went to the stairs. “But now Ian knows.” He started down the steps. “I will stay here, where there is no temptation.”

Jane followed him to the door and watched him limp across the courtyard toward the stable. Did anyone ever really know another person? She had thought she knew Patrick, and he had done that unspeakable thing. She had thought she knew Li Sung, but she was again being proved wrong.

Blue eyes searing, blazing, in a face as beautiful as a fallen angel’s.

What had caused the thought of Ruel to pop out of nowhere? She could claim to know him even less than others. Margaret’s revelations this afternoon had shocked and disturbed her. She supposed she shouldn’t have been so surprised. No one was less predictable and more enigmatic than Ruel.

Yet in those weeks after the wreck she had seen in him a resolution and a will that would never waver.

No, she must not think of Ruel. She had probably only thought she loved him. No, she would not lie to herself. She had loved Ruel, but surely time and distance would make that love fade and wither. She would make sure she kept herself busy enough to block out all thought of him.

In the distance she could see gently rolling hills, the heather a pale blur in the darkness. How different this land was from Kasanpore, as different as the life she must now lead here.

But she must no longer think of that other life. While she could help Ian, her place was here.

Now there was only Glenclaren.

Cinnidar.

Ruel’s hands tightened on the rail, his gaze on the island the small fishing boat was approaching. The first time he had seen Cinnidar he had felt this same sense of wonder and excitement, this sense of promise.

Jane had said something like that about her trains, he
remembered suddenly. Her face had been glowing and yet there had been a gravity about—

Dammit, he would not think of her.

Instead, he would remember Ian as he had last seen him when he had settled him on the bunk of the Bonnie Lady. Pale, wasted … in terrible pain.

The ship glided closer to the pier. He was almost home.

He instantly rejected that thought too. Cinnidar was a pot of gold, not home to him. He had no need for a home just as he had no need for Jane Barnaby. What he did need was buried deep in the bowels of that mountain, and he would have to work and sweat to find a way to tear it out. He would have no time to think of anything but the task that lay ahead.

Now there was only Cinnidar.

October 4, 1879
Glenclaren        

ane hurriedly straightened away from the wall as Margaret came out of Ian’s chamber. “How is he?”

“Stubborn.” Margaret moved brusquely down the hall toward the staircase. “He won’t hear of going to Spain for the winter. I can do nothing with the man.”

That statement certainly underscored the seriousness of the situation, Jane thought. Margaret seldom admitted defeat in any area. “You’ve had the physician speak to him again?”

“This morning,” Margaret said tersely. “Ian says Glenclaren needs him now and he will go to Spain in
the spring.” Her hand momentarily clenched on the banister before she started down the steps. “I told the idiot he will make me a widow before spring if he does not rid himself of that cough, and he cannot do it here. Glenclaren’s winters are too harsh.”