Her mind was clearing rapidly. “But how did you escape?”
“The new maharaja has an arrogance problem,” he growled. “He dismissed four of the guards, and the two who were left decided to sleep in shifts. One didn’t lock the door all the way after he untied my hands and brought my final meal. No one will find them until morning.”
“Saxon! You didn’t—”
“No. They’re tied up and enjoying sweet dreams in the forest. No one goes wandering about in the forest at this time of night, do they?”
“I was the only one who ever did.”
“And I’ve got you right here.” Moonlight shone on his white teeth as he smiled. With a quick move that caught her by surprise, he lifted her in his arms and shifted her over his shoulder.
“You don’t have to carry me off like a sack!” she protested.
He stepped to the edge of the terrace, glancing around, listening intently. “I’d like a hand free in case we encounter trouble. You don’t have any weapons in here, by chance?”
“No.” It was the truth, and she was relieved. She couldn’t bear the thought of Saxon hurting one of her clan any more than she could bear the thought of them hurting him. “Put me down and you’ll have two free hands.”
“No second thoughts?”
“What do you think, my love?” she replied softly.
“London it is, then. One-way passage for two.” He lowered her to the ground and pulled her beside him into the darkest shadows at the edge of the palace, peering into the night. “By the way, how did you get here from England?” he whispered curiously.
“Your mother’s friend Alexander Fox. She hired him to bring me here in his racing sloop.”
Saxon made a strangled sound. “You risked your life sailing with that reckless gray-haired rakehell of a smuggler?” He slanted her a glance.
She smiled lovingly in reply.
Shaking his head in wonder, he grabbed her hand. “My fearless, adventurous lady seafarer.” He muttered something about supervising his mother’s social associations more closely, but he was already leading Ashiana forward at a crouch.
Her heart pounded as they moved quickly and silently through the gardens. Saxon stopped only when they reached the inner wall of the palace grounds. Beyond lay the terraced hillside that led down to the beach.
They heard a voice from a few yards away on the other side of the wall. Both froze.
“Sentries?” Saxon whispered, looking at her.
She shook her head. “They patrol the ramparts on the shore at night.”
“Wait here until I see if there’s a safe way down.”
“Saxon—”
“No arguments.” He started to rise, then stopped. He caught her in a sudden, tender embrace. “I love you, Ashiana.”
The startling words came to him so naturally, so easily, she felt as if she had just been sent soaring through the clouds. He kissed her and repeated it again. “I love you. You are mine, Ashiana. Hamesha ke liye. Forever mine.” He released her just as suddenly and leaped up onto the smooth stone wall.
His sweet declaration touched her to the depths of her soul. All her love for him came flowing out on one breath. “I love you Saxon. Forever—”
But he was already gone, disappearing into the darkness. She wasn’t even sure he had heard her.
Shaking, Ashiana knelt in the shadows beside the wall, the sound of Saxon’s deep voice, so husky with emotion, echoing through her mind and heart. I love you. She had thought he might never be able to say those words aloud, but he had declared it without hesitation.
She crouched in the darkness, waiting for him to come back, filled with wonder and love and fear. Once they were reunited, she was going to tell him, show him, quite firmly and in detail just how much she loved him. She waited, her hair tangling in the breeze, her pulse rushing in her ears.
But Saxon did not return, and she heard nothing more from the other side of the wall.
Then a pistol shot rang out.
She jumped to her feet, scrambling over the wall with an agility she hadn’t known she possessed. Saxon was nowhere to be seen on the hillside below. She nearly screamed his name—but heard voices coming toward her. Before she could think whether to hide or race down the hill after Saxon, Rao’s voice shouted from the darkness.
“Ashiana!” He came at a run with a dozen heavily armed men, some bearing torches.
“Rao! What—”
He shouted orders to his warriors, sending them down the hill. Striding toward her, he caught her arm. “I cannot believe you would go with him!”
“How did you—” A barrage of gunfire sounded from their left and she lost the rest of her question in a horrified gasp. Turning, she finally saw Saxon, halfway down the hill, diving behind a low hedge for cover. The Ajmir marksmen had split up. The other half of the group appeared a few yards above Saxon on the right, raising their flintlocks.
The hedge would never be enough to protect him. “Rao, no! He has no weapons! Let him go! You gave me your word that—”
“I did let him go.”
“You? But he said—”
“I had to make it look as if he escaped! I could not simply let him walk away in the morning, Ashiana. The clan would never understand. I had to do it secretly. I instructed the guard to leave his cell unlocked.” He glared down the hill in Saxon’s direction. “I told him exactly how he would die and said that you did not care for him. I cannot believe he did not run for his life!”
“Not all Englishmen are cowards, Rao. You do not understand him. He loves me—”
The marksmen on the right started firing, Saxon flattened himself against the ground, but he was pinned down with nowhere to run.
“Rao, make them stop!” she cried. “They will kill him!”
“Do you think my men would miss at this range?”
The flat tone of his voice made Ashiana tear her gaze from Saxon and look up at Rao, aghast. “I don’t understand.”
“They will not kill him unless I give them the signal.” He released her and moved back, holding out his hand in entreaty. “It is your choice, Ashiana.”
The marksmen on the left fired again.
“Rao, I am begging you!”
“I love you, Ashiana,” he said fiercely. “You will forget that Angrez—”
“No, I love him! I will never forget him!”
At a signal from Rao, the warriors began firing at will.
Ashiana closed tear-filled eyes against the hellish sounds, against the hellish choice she had to make. “Make them stop!” she pleaded.
“Only you can make them stop, premika.”
With a sob, Ashiana placed her hand in his and let Rao pull her into his arms.
“Ashiana, no!” Saxon yelled, unable to believe what he was seeing in the torchlight on the hillside far above him. He couldn’t tell what Ashiana and Rao were saying up there, but she had looked down at him, back at Rao, then taken Rao’s hand and gone straight into his arms.
She was not trying to get away, not struggling in the least. Rao wrapped one arm lovingly around her and tucked her face against him. He called out to his warriors. The marksmen started advancing on Saxon from both sides.
He was going to be sliced to ribbons by the crossfire if he didn’t get out of here right now.
He surged to his feet. “Ashiana!” he shouted in agony.
Rao raised his head and glared down at him with a look that Saxon felt as much as saw was utterly triumphant.
Bitter anguish filled his throat. She had lain with him only moments ago, cried out with longing and love. But Ashiana needed something he could never give her, a happiness she could find only here. She truly could not bear to leave her family, her island home.
Words she had said to him so many times flashed through his memory.
I am an Ajmir princess.
I belong with my clan.
They are my family and I love them.
She had made her choice, and he had to let her
go.
For love, he had to let her go.
As he stood there, stunned, a hail of bullets suddenly struck dirt at his feet and flew over his head. One grazed his shoulder and knocked him to the ground. The message was clear and he didn’t need any further reminders. The Ajmir were perfectly willing to kill him now and rob the executioner of his fun with the dull blade in the morning.
He felt an anguished tearing in his chest as he turned and raced down the hill, the warriors close on his heels. He reached the shore, ran across the white sand, threw himself into the sea.
And left the fire and spice and heartbeat and breath of his life behind as the dark waters closed over his head.
Julian rubbed his bleary eyes and blinked at his pocket watch with a sigh. It was a quarter past nine. Sitting in the small office that he and Saxon had borrowed, he could hear the sounds of the Company’s Bombay settlement coming to life for the evening: merchants and junior officials and seamen making their way toward punch-houses and nautch parties and card games.
Frowning down at the accounts he had been studying, he slid his watch back into his pocket and tried to ignore the temptations—though God knew he needed a night off. Hell, he deserved one, after putting up with his brother for the past three months.
Saxon had been driving him completely around the bend. After returning to the Rising Star in a foul mood with a bullet wound in one shoulder, he had said only three things: he had given the sapphire back, Ashiana was alive, and he never wanted to hear her name mentioned again. Ever. Or else.
Even Julian didn’t dare test that “or else.” What baffled him was why the devil Saxon insisted on staying in India. If it was really because he wanted to build a replacement for the Valor, as he said, they could have returned home and had the ship made the traditional way, at the Company shipyards at Deptford. Relying on the settlement’s few shipbuilders and local materials made the whole process take twice as long. The new vessel was still up in the stocks, half-finished.
Julian stretched and yawned and looked back down at the pages of figures before him—estimates for sails and rigging. He had volunteered to look them over, sending Saxon off to bed. The man was going to drown himself in work if someone didn’t put a stop to it. The long hours were murder on Julian’s good humor, but helping with the new ship was the best way to keep a close eye on Saxon. And his brother definitely needed someone to keep an eye on him.
Trying to put thoughts of palm wine and pretty courtesans out of his mind, Julian turned the page with a sigh. A knock sounded at the door.
“Bloody hell.” He groaned and got to his feet. “Phipps, if that’s you again, I’m going to wring your scrawny neck. I told you I don’t have time to join your card party, so stop bother—”
As he opened the door, the rest of the rebuke died on his lips. Two women stood in the shadows just to one side of the entrance, both draped in silks that hid their faces. One stepped forward into the circle of light that spilled out the door and lowered her veil.
“Julian,” she said quietly but firmly, “I need your help.”
“This had better be good, Julian,” Saxon warned as he followed his brother up a ladder and onto the deck of his half-finished ship. The pungent smells of freshly cut wood and sawdust and tar clung to the sultry night air. “What the hell is so important that I have to see it at three in the morning? What have you been drinking?”
“Nothing. Not a drop,” Julian swore, flashing a smile. There was a definite spring in his step as he led the way to the aft hatch and down the companionway that led to the ship’s cabins. “I’ve made an improvement in the captain’s cabin and I couldn’t wait to show it to you.”
They came to a stop at the far end of the passageway and Julian raised the lamp he carried. The light shone on a door of carved teak. “Look at this—”
“A door?” Saxon asked dryly. “You got me out of bed at three in the morning to show me a door?”
Julian paused with his hand on the latch. “It’s not the door but what’s behind the door, Sax. You’ll love this, I promise.” He tripped the latch, then stepped aside and motioned for Saxon to precede him. “After you, Captain.”
Clenching his teeth at his brother’s mysterious mood, Saxon pushed the door open, shot Julian an irritated look, and stepped inside.
When his head swung around to view the promised surprise, his boots and his heart both slammed to a halt.
Ashiana stood on the far side of the cabin, starlight spilling in through the mullioned windows behind her, glistening on her royal blue Hindu silks and flowing peshwaz. Her gaze was unflinching, her expression calm, her fingers interlaced in front of her.
Saxon felt as if all the air had suddenly been sucked out of his lungs. He barely noticed when the door swung shut behind him. He spun toward it too late.
Julian spoke from the other side of the thick teak, laughter in his voice. “I told you I had made an improvement in your cabin. Isn’t that an improvement?”
“Julian!” Saxon grabbed the latch and tried to yank it open. The door wouldn’t budge.
“Sorry, Sax,” Julian said brightly, jiggling the latch from his side. “There appears to be some sort of locking mechanism on this door. What do you know about that?” He jiggled it again. “I can’t seem to get it open.”
“Damn it, Julian, what the hell are you—”
“I’ll never be able to get a locksmith out here at this hour,” Julian mused. “I’ll have to bring one first thing in the morning.”
“Not if I kick the blasted thing down first!”
“I wouldn’t advise it, Sax. I’ll just end up having to fetch a physician as well as a locksmith in the morning. This door is solid teak. You said you only wanted the best.”
“Julian!” Saxon roared.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be back first thing. Or at least by ten. Well, maybe eleven. I’ll bring breakfast. Meanwhile, I’m going to go find myself some brandy and cigars and take some much-needed time off. Ashiana?”
“Yes, Julian?” Her voice sounded soft and meek amid all the masculine bluster.
“Are you sure you’ll be all right?”
“Yes.”
“See you in the morning, then. Good night.”
Saxon listened with disbelief to Julian’s retreating steps as his brother walked off whistling.
“Please don’t blame him for this,” Ashiana said hesitantly. “I asked him to help me. I didn’t think you would see me willingly.”
Saxon turned and fixed Ashiana with an agonized glare. “Do you mean to torture me forever, woman?”
She started to apologize—but Saxon couldn’t hear the words.
He could only think of how beautiful she looked. So wrenchingly beautiful. Living with the family she loved had obviously been good for her: she had regained the weight she had lost in England, and her eyes sparkled, and her skin looked warm in the light of the candles on the table beside her.
It was only then that he noticed anything beyond Ashiana. The room had been completely furnished: table, chairs, sea chest, water basin.
Bed.
“Saxon, I…” Her voice was as soft and warm as her expression. “I had to speak with you…”
Her tongue darted out to wet her bottom lip and desire shot through him. He closed his eyes to shut her out. “Does your husband know you’re here?”
“I don’t have a husband.”
“Widowed already?” Had she only come to him because something had happened to Rao?
“Rao is well. I never married him.”
Saxon opened his eyes. Hope tore through him, but he throttled it. He had had ample time to hope and give up and hope again these past months. Three months. Three. “Then what the devil have you been doing on that island all this time?”
Her breasts rose and fell rapidly, and he realized that her calm exterior was only a facade, and crumbling rapidly. She answered his question with a question. “Why did you remain in India, after I had so obviously forsaken you b
y choosing Rao?”
Saxon almost gave her a sarcastic reply.
Then the vague explanation he had given to Julian leaped to mind.
Instead, to his vexation, he found himself speaking the truth, word by painful word. “Because, stubborn idiot that I am, I kept hoping you might come to your senses.”
He stepped toward her, but she turned and moved away. Her hand trembled as she reached up and rested her palm against one of the windows. “Julian explained that you stayed to build a new ship.”
Her tone was tremulous, vulnerable, as if she were afraid to believe that he could still love her, after what she had done.
He felt tenderness steal through him. “That was part of the reason I stayed. I wanted a ship built with Indian materials and English techniques. A blend of the best of both.” He softened his voice as he slowly crossed the distance between them. “I’m calling her the Lady Valiant. Why didn’t you marry Rao, Ashiana? What have you been doing for three months?”
She rested her forehead against the glass. “I had to promise to marry him. I had to stay or he was going to kill you. He didn’t want to set you free, but he agreed to do it if I would stay and become his wife. He scheduled our wedding for the festival of Diwali next month.”
Saxon inhaled sharply in surprise and regret. Why the hell hadn’t he thought of that? She hadn’t chosen to stay with her clan; she had been coerced into doing it. She hadn’t done it for herself.
She had done it for him.
Her self-sacrifice touched him deeply. He felt such love for the courageous, caring, extraordinary woman before him, it made his heart beat erratically. He reached out to gently touch her shoulder. She trembled, but again moved away from him.
“Ashiana, what’s wrong? You didn’t come here just to tell me when your wedding will be.” As his confidence grew, lightness crept into his tone. “I don’t think I’m on the guest list.”
She smiled and suddenly her eyes gleamed with unshed tears. “I’m not going to marry Rao—”
One Night with a Scoundrel Page 37