by Kate Gray
uncertainly. How could he even begin to speak his mind? Besides, she was still technically armed.
“You do not make it an easy thing to be in your company.”
She frowned, and turned her back to him.
“I am sorry. You ought to have noticed before now that I am not the model of femininity. Perhaps I oughtn’t have come along on this, I know you certainly think so, but I’ll be dashed if I sit back and do embroidery while I could be helping.”
Macconnach took a few steps nearer, finally touching her on her shoulder, as he had after her successful shot.
“That was not what I meant.” He turned her around. She was perplexed, but only for a moment, as he took her hand, and placed it on his heart. “You’re a bit of a distraction, that’s all.”
“I’ve heard worse about myself, I suppose.”
“Do stop being flippant.”
“And what happens when I do? I’ve not negotiated this sort of territory before.”
“I told you that I was not to be trusted.”
“Now who’s being flippant?!”
He silenced her with a gentle kiss, the shock of which she felt run from her burning cheeks, down to her toes. It was the most staggering moment of her life to that point. She had not known that such sensations were possible, nor what untold realms would be opened with only a kiss.
With that kiss, her father’s grief took on new depths of understanding. Major Macconnach himself seemed taller and more handsome all at once. She found herself entertaining a desire to be held in his arms, to feel him against her, to touch him.
These things were not possible, however. Her honor would forever be trampled if she were to give in to those thoughts, while his would probably grow. It was horribly unfair. He seemed to realize this as well, and backed up.
“I do apologize, Miss Alderton.”
“No, it is I who should be sorry. I’ve been a perfect beast to you, and yet, you seem to have only seen my qualities.”
“There you are mistaken. Having high regard for someone means that you try to accept their flaws, and not mind them. Of course, I shouldn’t mind if you decided to stop insulting me.”
“I shall try.”
“I was only joking.”
“I know. Perhaps I do myself a disservice by being so unpleasant to my peers, however. Goodness, my mother must be dancing with the angels. I don’t know why I do it, though. Perhaps it’s because my father wasn’t born a peer. I tend to assume the ones who were won’t accept me, I suppose.”
They saddled their horses as they talked, trying to exhale away the new awkwardness between them.
“He was given title?”
“Oh yes, he had to win it. He’s from an old family, one that used to be titled in the progeniture, but they lost it all, ages ago. Some ghastly scandal, and the estate was broken, the land given away. The only good thing about it all is that he has no entail, and my brother can run away and never take the title, if he chooses not to.”
“And what about you? Would you run away?”
“I don’t know. There’s not much out there for a woman in my position. Believe me, I’ve considered the options. I could marry some decrepit old fool and live out the merrie widow scheme. Or go and be a spinster with my brother. It’s simply depressing that there is no allowance for a woman to have any true occupation.”
“Being somebody’s wife does not interest you?”
“I cannot say. Nobody of interest has ever asked.” Isabel winced into the sunshine as she mounted Lizzie. She nudged her steed, cantering away at a steady pace. Macconnach was left behind for a moment, and tried to steel himself.
“Steady on. We’ve a job to do, a dangerous one. ‘Distractions lead to destruction.’” The last was Grandy’s personal favorite motto. The old colonel was a devoted bachelor, and had often extolled the virtues of same to all his trainees.
Nothing to be used against you, nobody to leave wondering, and every evening brings its own pleasures. At once time, Macconnach had agreed with him, but no longer.
Grandy had simply never discovered the notion that a woman could be an equal. Macconnach nudged Bran into a quick trot to close the gap, hoping that sunset would not be long off.
ॐ
Arras lowered his glass. Always, he discovered new and valuable things when he exercised caution and patience. Even if this venture did not pay in the sense that he hoped for, he now had more than enough to press the major with.
The general’s daughter, her reputation at stake, oh yes, he would certainly get what he needed. One small kiss had seen to that. Arras wondered how Macconnach could be so foolish, though he could see the allure of it.
Miss Alderton was a very handsome prize indeed. She might even pass for a native of his own country, and for a few minutes, Arras mulled over the idea of demanding her hand as part of payment.
It had its merits, even if she was a shrew who had only ever dismissed him coldly, but once a woman was a wife, she could be tamed. And tamed she would be, if he had her.
He tucked his glass back into his waist and kicked the English nag into motion again. The horse flinched, but began to walk on resignedly. There was nothing to be gained by defying this rider, she had learned. At least, not yet.
ॐ
They covered far more ground than Macconnach could have hoped for. The horses seemed to have renewed strength after their reluctance of the night before, moving with a speed that seemed to indicate that they too were being drawn inexorably toward some as yet unknown end.
The hills began to rise up all around them, as to lose all sense that the earth was ever flat. Tea plantations stretched out in all directions, and in the late day heat, he thought could detect the faint but familiar scent of its leaves.
Jagged remnants of worn off peaks dotted the landscape erratically, as if to draw the eye deliberately upward to the distant peaks of the Himalayas. It was a lush sight, heady, almost. Macconnach wondered where in the midst of all this such a dark entity could exist. Death was a complete paradox to the verdant life around them.
It was still an hour or two away from sunset, and far more difficult for Macconnach to bring his powers to bear. He’d never been certain of the reasons for this, except that during the daylight hours, it was as though there was always an interference, some sort of background noise.
Once night fell, all the humming and buzzing of the living silenced into sleep. This was his only working theory; that mortal thoughts crowded his own.
Grandy had been interested in this phenomenon, had wanted Macconnach to try and see if he could focus in and hear one voice at a time. It had never worked. In fact, the only outcome of trying to focus in that manner had been headaches which had lasted for days.
He let out a deep breath that he hadn’t known he was holding back. Somewhere very nearby was their goal. He no longer had any hope of finding either child alive, as he had thought at the outset.
Ripples of the evil washed over him now and again, growing closer and stronger. Nightfall would certainly lead him right to it, but on its terms, not his…or theirs. He looked ahead to his companions, and over at Isabel.
Here was a time when it would be better, perhaps, for the weapons of old. Swords and knives, instead of rifles and one small pistol. The men from the village were far better equipped for a fight.
He wished he’d brought his dagger at least, or even his officer’s sword. He could almost feel his ancestors’ ghosts shaking their heads in disappointment at him. Perhaps they were. No, the only solution was to find the source before dark.
“You are deep in thought.”
“Merely theorizing, Miss Alderton.”
“What about?”
“The possibilities of exploiting an advantage.”
“One would think that an advantage would need to present itself, first.”
“The very problem I was caught on the hooks of.”
She looked round at the scenery. How peaceful and perfect it seemed, as
if they were looking at a lovely painting of a fancy, rather than something real. She frowned. It was perfect.
Not a flaw anywhere in sight. There were no plantation workers anywhere to be seen here, but every tea leaf was a tiny jewel on each plant. Not a single imperfection. Why were there no workers? She squinted toward the sun, calculating that it must be only just the hour when the workday might be ending.
“Does it not strike you as odd that there are no tea pickers here, when these plants are budding, and ready for harvest and pruning?”
Macconnach looked at her thoughtfully.
“I confess that I had not thought of this, being unfamiliar as I am with tea growing. Colonel, would you think that there would still be workers here this time of day?”
Arpan also looked to the sun, and pursed his lips.
“I would think that, yes. Every plantation is run differently, but I am given to understand that most of them try to operate during all the hours of light, especially in the springtime.” He looked down at the plants, and frowned. “I think that these plants are a little bit ahead of a normal growing schedule. They should be just ready in May, not this early.”
They all dismounted and began to look more carefully at the plants, Macconnach thinking to observe signs of recent human activity upon them.
“I think you must be right, Colonel. These are flowering. I cannot think that I ever remember seeing tea flowers in January.” Isabel bent closer to smell the tiny blossom, and gasped.
As they watched, all the little flowers began to close up and shrink back into buds. Minute popping
