The Tiger Prince

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The Tiger Prince Page 22

by Iris Johansen


  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 c
ould, 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.

  Why didn’t Ruel look away? She could feel his eyes on her. She straightened away from the rail. “Well, I can’t stay here any longer. I have to get back to Ian.”

  Li Sung shook his head. “Kartauk is with him. He seems to be able to amuse him.”

  She had noticed that herself and had blessed Kartauk during the two days they had spent at the inn prior to their departure. Heaven knows, no one else had been able to raise Ian’s spirits. “Where’s Patrick?”

  “Where he usually is, trying to crawl into his whiskey bottle. He’s gotten worse since the wreck.”

  “Yes.”

  “I notice you do not try to defend him any longer.”

  She could not seem to stop protecting Patrick, but she would no longer lie to either herself or anyone else regarding his flaws. “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “He has to shoulder his own burdens. I have enough to worry about.”

  “Yet you’re taking him to Glenclaren.”

  “He’s not going to Glenclaren.”

  A flicker of surprise crossed Li Sung’s face. “He told me he was going with us.”

  “I’ll settle him at a lodging house in Edinburgh. There was a little money left in the cash fund, enough to keep him for a year or so. After that he’ll have to find work.”

  “With no help from you?”

  “With no help from me.”

  He smiled faintly. “Unusual. I wonder what he did to open your eyes?”

  Ruel was still looking at her. Why wouldn’t he turn and walk away? she wondered desperately. The pain was too great. She had to be free of him.

  “You’re not going to tell me that either?”

  “What?” She would not stand there, pinned by Ruel’s stare like a sacrificial goat for the tiger. She turned and started down the deck. “You should be happy, Li Sung. You were always telling me how foolish I was.”

  He fell into step with her. “I’m not happy Patrick hurt you. It was what I always feared, but I never wanted it.”

  “I’ll get over it.” And she would also break free of Ruel in spite of his determination to make her aware of his power over her. If she had not wanted to go to Glenclaren, no coercion would have forced her to go. It had been her decision to try to right the wrong she had done Ian.

  “You’re walking too fast. Since you refuse to honor me with your confidence regarding MacClaren and Patrick, may I at least ask where we’re running in such a hurry?”

  “Sorry.” She slowed to accommodate Li Sung’s limping gait. She had been running from Ruel, she realized suddenly, away from that implacable will that had jerked Ian back from the gates of death and was now focu
sed on her. “I thought I’d go down to the cargo hold and see how Sam and Bedelia are doing.”

  “Everyone is going to be so happy to see you.” Jane reached out and took Ian’s cold hand. “Your Glenclaren is beautiful. I can see why you love it.”

  Ian didn’t take his gaze from the towers in the distance. “Yes, it is beautiful.”

  She pulled the blanket higher around him. The jarring trip had not been good for him, she thought anxiously. If possible, he looked paler than when they had lifted his stretcher onto the back of this wagon at the docks in Edinburgh two days earlier. “Truly. Everything is going to be fine.”

  “I can almost believe it,” he whispered, still looking at the castle. “Perhaps there really was a reason …”

  Ten minutes later the wagon rumbled over the wooden drawbridge and into the flagstoned courtyard.

  A chipped and stained cistern occupied the center of the courtyard, and scraggly blades of grass grew between the flagstones. Wherever she looked Jane could see signs of age and disrepair.

  “It’s not always like this,” Ian said. “I’ve been away a long time and places this old need care and nurturing.”

  “Or tearing down,” Kartauk murmured.

  Jane gave him a withering glance. “It won’t take us long to do a few repairs, Ian.” How strange to realize Ruel had grown up in this castle. It was difficult to even connect Ruel with this weathered, ancient place.

  “Where is he?” The brass-bracketed front door flew open and a young woman marched down the stairs. “Good God, Ian, have they not got you sitting up yet?”

  “Margaret?” Ian said in disbelief. He lifted himself on one elbow to look over the side of the wagon. “What are you doing here?”

  “Where else would I be?” She strode toward the wagon. “When I received Ruel’s letter I moved Father and myself to Glenclaren. Until you’re over this infirmity, it was clearly the most practical thing to do.”

  Jane felt a ripple of surprise at her first sight of Margaret MacDonald. Soft hands, lace, and a fashionable bustle … She could see why Ian had laughed when she had described how she had envisioned his Margaret. She could not see the woman’s hands, but her high-collared dark blue gown was faded and shabby with long use, and she moved with a bold economical grace. She was tall and slim, her wheat-colored hair worn in a smooth bun. Her square chin and large, mobile mouth were too strong to be considered beautiful, but she possessed wide-set gray eyes that were startlingly lovely.

 

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