The Tiger Prince (35 page)

But she couldn’t tear her gaze from the two packets of papers on the floor.

Kartauk sat on the flagstones, his eyes closed, leaning back against the stone wall of the stable.

“You’re not working?” Ruel strolled across the courtyard toward Kartauk. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you so relaxed.”

“I just finished firing a statue in the furnace. It’s cooling down.” Kartauk opened his eyes. “Margaret tells me I’m to go to Cinnidar. How very kind of you to invite me.”

“I was going to get around to it. I’ve been busy. I need you, Kartauk.”

“The entire world needs me.”

“They need your work. I need your knowledge of Abdar. There’s a good possibility he’ll appear on the horizon and I’ll need your help.”

“I’ve spent three years avoiding Abdar and you wish
me to place myself in a position where he cannot help but notice me?”

“You’re not a retiring gentleman. Wouldn’t
yon
like to be permanently free of Abdar?”

“Permanently? Just how do you intend to ‘permanently’ remove a man in his position?”

“Cinnidar is mine. For all intents and purposes I’m the maharajah of Cinnidar. If Abdar makes an attempt to take it, I’d be within my rights to treat him like any other invader.” He smiled grimly. “I have no compunction about making sure he won’t get the opportunity to do it twice.”

“In which case I can sit here and let you get rid of him for me while I tend to my own concerns.”

“True, but his defeat will be swifter and more certain if I have an ally who knows the nature of the beast.”

“Beast?” Kartauk savored the word. “He is one, you know. A total monster.” He shook his head. “I do not think it wise for me to go.”

“Why not?”

“Many reasons.”

“You can have your own studio in the palace.”

“I’ve gotten used to my studio here.”

“And have you also gotten used to working only in bronze and wood?”

Kartauk’s eyes narrowed on Ruel’s face. “Are you about to dangle a bribe?”

“An irresistible bribe, a golden bribe. Cash may be a bit slim at present, but there’s enough gold to meet even your needs.”

“You’ll be my patron?”

“Doesn’t every ruler need an artist to beautify his palace?”

“Gold …”

“And my promise to give you my protection from Abdar.”

“As long as you’re alive to give it.” Ruel inclined his head. “Point taken. But I fully intend to survive Abdar.”

Kartauk studied him for a moment. “It’s a gamble.”

“Yes.”

“All the gold I need?”

Ruel said warily, “Within reason. I can afford a golden door, but I might balk if you decide your artistic soul requires an entire railway car.”

“I will be reasonable.” Mischief lit Kartauk’s face. “Not a passenger car, perhaps only a caboose.” He stood up and turned back to the stable. “You’ve wasted enough of my time. I must go back to work.”

“You’ll come?”

“How can I resist? Fate has obviously seen fit to tempt me beyond my powers to refuse. Abdar’s head and a golden caboose …”

“No, Ruel.” Ian tried to keep his tone firm. “It’s out of the question. I’ve told you any number of times I’ll not leave Glenclaren. Why won’t you accept it?”

“Because you’re being stupid,” Ruel said bluntly. “What difference will six months make? Do you think I’m going to keep you on Cinnidar forever?” His voice lowered persuasively. “Listen to me. Give me six months to heal that cough and I promise I’ll send you back to Glenclaren.”

Ian shook his head.

Ruel sat back in his chair. “Aren’t you being selfish? What about Margaret? Are you going to leave her a widow after all she’s done for you?”

Ian’s lips twisted. “At times I believe it would be the greatest gift I could give her.”

“Then you’d be wrong. Margaret has always loved you and she always will. She wants you alive.”

Ian sighed. “I know. Poor lass.”

“She doesn’t feel sorry for herself.”

Ian’s tone turned suddenly fierce. “Well, she should. Married to a crock of a man who will probably never be able to give her a child.”

“Is that what the doctor said?”

Ian shrugged, “He said there was a possibility of a child. But it’s been two years.”

“Two years isn’t such a long time.”

“It’s a lifetime,” Ian said flatly.

Ruel’s lips tightened. “Sorry. I guess it has been for you.”

“I didn’t mean to sound self-pitying. Sometimes I don’t understand—”

“Understand what?”

“Why God meant me to live.”

“Are you still searching your soul for answers? I thought you’d decided I was the one who had thrown a rod into the spokes of destiny.”

“Did I say that? Forgive me, Ruel.”

“For God’s sake, there’s nothing to forgive.”

“There’s a great deal for both you and Margaret to forgive. God doesn’t make mistakes, so there must be a reason I’m such a burden to you. I just can’t see it yet. When I began to get stronger I thought it must have meant I was supposed to give Margaret a child.” He smiled bitterly. “But it’s becoming clear I can’t even do that.”

“You were very ill this winter. Once you’re strong again, perhaps you—”

“Perhaps,” Ian interrupted. “Or perhaps Glenclaren was meant to be my only child.” He forced a smile. “So you mustn’t try to keep me from caring for my child, Ruel.”

“You’re making excuses. I doubt if God cares as much for Glenclaren as you do.” He paused. “Have you considered the possibility you’re using Glenclaren as a way out?”

Ian glanced away. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“If you stay at Glenclaren this winter, you’ll die. It’s a mortal sin to take your own life, Ian.”

“I wasn’t …” His stricken gaze shifted to Ruel’s face. “Was I?”

“How the hell do I know? You tell me.”

“You seem to know too much … as usual. Lord, I wish you hadn’t come, Ruel.”

“I didn’t think you’d welcome me.”

“It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s just that—”

“I’m the barrier between you and what you want,” Ruel finished wearily. “That is what I’ve been since the moment I pulled you out of the railway car. For God’s sake, come to Cinnidar and lie in the sun and get your strength back. Let us try to make things right for you.”

“You’ve already done a great deal for me and Glenclaren. I suppose I’m being very ungrateful.”

“I don’t want your gratitude. I want you to come to Cinnidar.”

Ian didn’t answer for a long time. “I’ll consider it,” he said slowly.

“Good.” Ruel stood up and moved toward the door. “Rest now and I’ll send Margaret up with your supper.”

“No, I don’t want—”

The door had already closed behind Ruel, and Ian leaned wearily back against the pillows. Clever Ruel, to have guessed what he had never allowed himself to admit to himself, that he had wanted the light to take him here at Glenclaren, not in a strange land. The light was almost always with him now; sometimes he dreamed about it and woke with a reluctance and wistfulness he was forced to hide from Margaret.

His lovely, strong, caring Margaret. She, too, was drifting away, paling beside the lure of the light.

Yet Ruel was right, he was not being fair. They were all trying so hard to keep him from the light that it must be God’s will.

Cinnidar. Even the name sounded exotic and alien from his Glenclaren.

Ruel found Margaret in the study, making entries into an account book. “He’s softening. It would do no harm for you to go to him now and add your arguments to mine.”

She closed the account book. “I didn’t think you’d be able to do it.”

“It’s not a certain victory yet. Have you arranged for anyone to manage Glenclaren while you’re gone?”

“Timothy Drummond, the vicar’s son, has recently
returned from the university in Edinburgh. He’s a canny, able man who has little imagination but could keep things in order until I return.”

“Then tell that to Ian. He appears to regard Glenclaren as an offspring he must nurture and care for.” He paused. “He wants very much to give you a child.”

“Do you think I don’t know that?” she asked fiercely. “He can talk of nothing else. It will not happen.”

“Ian said the physician told him—”

“Because I forced him to lie to Ian. He would never have married me if he had known there was no chance.”

“No chance at all?”

“Almost none. God sometimes performs miracles, but it’s best not to count on Him.”

“Too bad.”

“Bad? It’s worse than bad. Not only does Ian feel guilty for robbing me of a child, but a babe would give him purpose, a reason to live.”

“I’m sorry, Magg—Margaret.”

“Sorrow won’t help Ian. We have to do that.” She straightened her shoulders and moved toward the door. “I’ll go up and talk to him now.”

Li Sung. A railroad.

The words played over and over in Jane’s mind. Why was she cowering on this bed, afraid to take up the challenge Ruel had thrown down? He was only a man, like any other man. Well, perhaps not like any other man, but still human and fallible. He had told her he intended to take revenge, but she knew him well enough to realize he would not try to trick her to accomplish it.

A railroad.

Sweet Mary, but she was afraid. She had no doubt Ruel would be completely merciless in any confrontation between them.

A railroad.

Why was she assuming she would not be able to gather the strength to fight Ruel? She had spent the last three years preparing her defenses against him. She was
no longer the child he had known in Kasanpore, and who was to say she could not best him?

It was after midnight when Jane slowly got up from the bed and moved across the room to pick up both packets on the floor. She lit the lamp on the table, sat down, and opened the survey report.

“I’ll do it,” Jane said as soon as she opened the door to Ruel’s knock the next morning. She thrust the contract at him. “Here. I’ve signed the blasted thing. I’ll keep the survey report to study and send to the castle tomorrow a list of supplies and equipment I’ll need to have immediately on hand when I arrive on Cinnidar. When do I have to be there?”

“As soon as possible. I’ll be leaving on the next ship and Ian agreed this morning to follow me within the month. You can travel with Maggie and him.” His gaze searched her face. “You look a bit haggard. A sleepless night?”

She ignored the mockery in his question and said brusquely, “I was studying the survey. You said it was accurate?”

“As accurate as Medford could make it, but there are always surprises.”

“Those penalties could leave me with almost nothing if anything goes wrong.”

He nodded. “Aye, that’s true, but there are always penalty clauses in any contract.”

“Even the maharajah didn’t insist on this heavy a penalty. Lower the first penalty to twenty percent and the second to ten.”

He shook his head. “You knew I wouldn’t agree to that, or you wouldn’t have already signed the contract. Lowering the penalties would lessen the incentive. I want you to work very hard to complete my railroad on time, Jane.”

“You want to see me slave at your command and then lose everything.”

“That would be one way to punish you, wouldn’t it?” He smiled. “Do you wish to tear up the contract?”

She had had little hope of getting him to give her better terms, but she’d had to make the attempt. “It will be done on time.”

“Then I believe we have nothing more to discuss.” He nodded politely. “I’ll see you on Cinnidar.”

She watched him walk away, bold, tough, and dauntingly confident.

But she would not be daunted by him, blast it.

She would give him his railroad and grab this chance for an independent life for herself and Li Sung. She would work harder than she ever had in her life and not give herself a chance to think of anything else.

The mandarin would not win this time.

t is truly a palace,” Li Sung murmured, his gaze on the massive structure on the hill. “But it is not what I’d expect of Ruel.”

Jane’s grasp involuntarily tightened on Bedelia’s reins as she looked at the magnificent palace. Two rows of cypress trees bordered the sides of the road leading up to a courtyard whose center point was a large marble fountain. The central section of the palace was domed, with wings sprawling with faultless symmetry on either side. The long veranda, extending the entire length of the palace, was interspersed with eight arched columns and sported white
marble fretted balustrades that shimmered like diamond lace in the late afternoon sunlight. Everything about the structure spoke of exotic beauty … and power. Ruel’s power. At that moment she did not need such a potent reminder that this was Ruel’s kingdom. “Why not? He always said he wanted a palace.”