by Imogene Nix
“Elspeth?”
She jerked back, startled. “We should sleep now.” Her voice was raspy, and he frowned. “We have another long day of travel ahead of us.”
He nodded, and this time he broke the connection. “I need to check the men.”
Without another word, Aeddan spun on his heels and was through the flap of the tent.
Elspeth lowered herself to the bed, settling under the light cover while listening to the chatter of the men outside. She strained, her eyes closed as she tried to pinpoint Aeddan’s voice. Every now and again she thought she caught the sound, but it trailed away.
Pointless. Trying to sort out her feelings would no doubt confuse her further, she decided with a derisive huff. Pick at the wound and not only wouldn’t it heal, it would probably grow some infection. Based on the current situation, she was sure it would be one likely to kill her—or at the very least, her sense of self.
He hadn’t promised her anything except a future together and children. The future as his viscountess. Her stomach trembled as that fear rose. She didn’t want that—had never sought a position so high. She just wanted the man she’d married. The major who’d awakened her senses and made her feel. Instead, what he now promised was so much more, and yet so little...from a man she barely knew. The knowledge he didn’t love her hurt. It cut deeply—almost as much as the now erroneous realization that he’d only married her because he was ordered to do so.
So where does that leave me? With a groan, she opened her eyes, observed the stained canvas roof, and let her resolve firm.
“I’m no quitter.” She couldn’t say she loved him either, but there was a hit of a deep emotion, maybe a kind of yearning, she thought, growing inside her.
Perhaps with time she could entice something stronger from him. She’d heard the rumors of women in harems and how they used their wiles to tempt their husbands. For a moment her own thoughts shocked her before she began to assess it from all angles, as any business-minded woman would. It might work, if she had an opportunity to meet with some of those cloistered women and learn their secrets.
“Tomorrow. I can think about all these things tomorrow.” She rolled over and closed her eyes, hoping sleep would come soon. Her senses, weary from the fright and emotional upheaval, began to drop away, and she welcomed the lure of sleep.
* * * *
Aeddan glanced sideways, noting the stiffness in Elspeth’s profile as she rode beside him. She’d been quieter than at any time since their journey began. Since the attack days ago and their ensuing discussion, he couldn’t seem to work out what she was thinking. In fact, he hadn’t been able to connect with her at all. It was as if she wasn’t truly even here.
She never complained during the long hours of riding, though he knew some days she ached. He could see it in the set of her lips and her stiff gait after hours in the saddle, yet she never voiced her discomfort. The nights were...perplexing.
He drew his horse closer. “Do you wish to stop?”
She looked at him, her face the mask she’d taken to wearing during the day. “Not right now, thank you.”
By day she was the epitome of a well-educated English woman—remote and self-assured. By night, she was a houri. A woman who responded fully to his every embrace and touch, each caress richer than the last and each kiss a drug that drew him deeper into his addiction to her.
Elspeth had become a confusing enigma. In the space of this trek, she’d become the puzzle he didn’t have time or the knowledge to piece together.
In the distance, he noted how the terrain changed. In the last few days, they’d ridden closer to the water’s edge. The haze of shimmering heat gave way to a muddy brown, undulating ribbon. Water.
“We’ll stop here and take a break,” he ordered. “Then we can find our way to the town where we will gain transportation for ourselves and the horses.”
His men dismounted, chatting. Elspeth clambered off the horse without waiting or seeking his assistance. He frowned.
“Elspeth...” Even as he slid down the side of his mount, she turned away, and his anger grew, his gut churning as she refused his help.
“I’d really like to freshen up a little.” Without glancing in his direction, and grasping the reins in one gloved hand, she began patting at her split skirts, as if to remove every trace of dust from them.
“Elspeth...”
“Yes?” The imperious tone, stiff back, and glacial looks cut off any thoughts he had of rectifying the situation immediately.
“I’ll arrange something.” He sighed the words, realizing that at this point there wasn’t any way to fix whatever vexed her. His men were watching eagerly, but he wasn’t going to give them a scene. He stepped back and away. But by God, he’d find out what drove her and deal with it, at the first possible opportunity.
She inclined her head, and with a gentle tug, walked her mount forward, past him. He seethed. This wasn’t how it was supposed to work. He didn’t know how to chip away at the wall of ice she erected around herself each and every morning.
As she sashayed away he was left sweating. It was difficult to resist the urge to tug on the collar of the uniform he wore. Cupping a hand, Aeddan raised it to his brow and shadowed his eyes, watching her lead the horse to a small bowl of water.
“You’ve got your hands full there, sir. Let me take your mount.” The man tugged the reins from his grip just as he caught sight of a plume of dust rising in the distance. He jerked forward, looking hard, but couldn’t detect enough to be sure if it was friend or foe.
With great deliberation, he moved toward Elspeth, who was calmly rubbing the neck of her horse. It snickered as she spoke in a soothing tone.
“Move to the center of the camp, Elspeth.”
She jumped. “You startled me!” Her tone was accusatory, but when he lifted a hand and pointed in the direction of the dust she followed it with her eyes. “Oh.”
“Mount up!” Aeddan snarled.
The cry split the air, and she looked back at him, her face composed, though he was sure he detected a hint of uncertainty. With a swift nod she moved to the side, her hands gripping the pommel and cantle. He cupped his hands and boosted her back into the saddle. She settled with a hiss in the seat, legs astride. Then she wheeled Sana in the direction of the men.
Grundy was there, perched on his horse with the reins of Devil’s Chaos thrust out toward him. He flung himself into the saddle and rode to wait beside Elspeth, who sat there adjusting her hat and gloves. Aeddan was more than a little startled, watching her careful ministrations.
“When meeting someone you are unsure of, it’s always best to be prepared.”
The urge to laugh bubbled. But it wasn’t the time or place. Instead, he straightened his back and stared ahead. Who is it?
The riders advanced slowly in their direction, inexorably moving toward the knot of gathered soldiers clustered around Elspeth. The sounds, jingling harnesses and stamping hooves, came soon, and he could start to make out ten maybe fifteen men.
Devil’s Chaos and Sana remained still while the other horses fussed, sidestepping and snickering.
“Namaste.” The man riding at the front of the party bowed over the horse’s head, the palms of his hands pressed together.
Aeddan returned the greeting with a smile and waited.
“Sahib, you are a long way east of Bombay and Calcutta.” Dark eyes watched him as Aeddan’s men stilled their prancing mounts. The man spoke impeccable English though with a slight accent.
“Indeed. We plan to proceed to Chandpur but seek a conveyance capable of assisting us.” He eyed the man speculatively, wondering who he was to be surrounded by black-turbaned men, each with vicious curved blades at their side.
The man’s surprise was quickly reined in. “Most travelers organize boats in Barisal. However, I believe we can help you.”
“Really?” He lifted an eyebrow, and the man laughed.
“Yes, but I feel your party is a trifle parched. Come,
let us take tea.”
The suggestion threw Aeddan off his stride, and he stared at the man who smiled warmly at Elspeth, and when she returned the glance, he wanted to tear her away. A ripple of a dark emotion, greasy and unwelcome, rose in his chest. He wanted to roar with frustration but countered it with the knowledge he hadn’t yet been gifted with the man’s name. He could be anyone, though he had an air of easy command about him. Aeddan watched as the man dismounted and smiled at his wife.
“Fair lady, allow me to assist you.”
And damn, if she didn’t just let him do that.
Aeddan seethed.
* * * *
She knew Aeddan was angry. It was apparent in the set of his shoulders, and the terse answers and fulminating glances he sent in her direction. She quaked a little, knowing how furious he must be, but some seed of devilry had planted itself deep, so she accepted the man’s assistance and arm. She sat down on the jeweled cushions his men produced and sheltered beneath the hastily erected tent.
As their host chatted she nodded and accepted a cup of fragrant tea. She knew Aeddan watched her every action. She took her time; each sip allowed her a chance to study her husband from below her dipped eyelashes.
He was an impressive man, but given to secrets, she’d come to understand. Whether they were resultant from his role as a spy or from his innate training since childhood, she still had to determine. But there were times when his body telegraphed his current state of mind. This was one of them. Aeddan sat upright and stiff, and she wanted to sigh her frustration at his cold demeanor.
“So, you wish to travel the Sendha River and cross the Meghna?”
“Yes. Myself, my wife, and our entourage are traveling to Maijdee. We hope to meet with silk weavers.”
The man opposite smiled. “Ah, yes. Their work is quite exquisite. But tell me, what does a man like you, obviously well connected and educated, want with the weavers?”
The man displayed the grin of a crocodile, Elspeth thought privately. All teeth and more, it hinted at a hidden danger. She repressed a shiver at the ridiculous thought.
“I am investigating a business arrangement.” Aeddan’s tone became hard and cold. “I’m sure you understand.”
“Indeed, sahib.” The man inclined his head. “Come then, if your good wife is done, let us ride to the river. I have men who will secure you a boat to carry yourselves and your horses safely to the other side.”
“That is most gracious of you.”
Aeddan relaxed a little, and she wondered why he now felt that it was safer. She felt more confused than ever before. They still didn’t know the man’s name or what he wanted. She stole a glance at Aeddan, but he wasn’t looking at her.
“Aeddan…” She kept her voice low, but he shook his head, no doubt to hush her, and she frowned.
He knew India better than she did, so she acceded to his unspoken request, took his proffered hand, and rose. At the edge of the tent, Grundy waited, holding the reins of Sana and Devil’s Chaos.
Sana snickered as Elspeth touched her long face. “Hello, my lovely.”
“What a beautiful mount you have there, memsahib. She is an Arab, is she not?”
The man startled her. Now he was standing just behind her shoulder, and she raised a hand to her chest, as if to still her rapid heartbeat. “Indeed, she is. My husband purchased her for me before we left Calcutta.”
The man smiled benignly. “Let me offer you assistance.” He gestured to the saddle.
“I thank you for offering your help to my wife, however I will help her into the saddle.”
Aeddan’s voice was brusque, and she breathed deeply, hoping to wash off the aggravation that once again rose. Without a word, she placed her foot into the cradle of his hands, and he boosted her up then handed her the reins.
The men swung atop their mounts, and with a quick command, the Indian turned his horse to the water with Aeddan following. She glanced behind, seeing the way the men snapped to attention before she followed her husband, and the men fell into formation behind the two of them.
Chapter 16
Aeddan barely held onto his temper. He knew Elspeth was trying to be the wife he wanted by making few demands on him during the day, but in the instant when the man made to touch her, his possessive nature had risen. It nearly smothered him in the intensity, and it left him both confounded and angry.
What was it about Elspeth that made him need to protect her? To keep her for himself?
The road ahead changed from sparsely covered ground to lush and green. Verdant. Their pace slowed as the ground became softer. The clank of the decorations worn by the horses fought with the sounds of migratory birds and the rustle of greenery as they made their way through the long grasses.
“Wait, sahib.” Finally the man—Aeddan knew he was high caste—held up a hand. He carefully dismounted and handed his reins over. The horse stepped and whinnied fretfully. “Wait here while I converse with these men.”
Just beyond the water’s edge was a group of small boats, the men wearing little more than loincloths as they worked on their nets. The Indian, one who Aeddan suspected was a prince, carefully picked his way down before conversing. The men spoke to him with reverential tones while Aeddan watched. One man nodded profusely and picked up his nets before turning his boat away, but Aeddan remained still as the Indian made his way back toward him.
“He has knowledge of others with boats that can navigate down to the Meghna. They will meet you a little further north of here as the tide turns. There you will find a dock. It isn’t a difficult ride, but one where we might pass tigers. We will ride with you and perhaps find ourselves some live game.”
Aeddan had never participated in a tiger hunt, finding it barbaric, but he understood that it was a cultural pastime. “Indeed, and we welcome the company.”
“Then perhaps you might join us?” The question was innocent but Aeddan had to think fast to avoid any insult.
“You honor me, but we cannot stop, for our mission requires us to be hasty in our travel.” He gave a slight bow and hoped it would be accepted in the manner it was offered.
“Mission, sahib?”
Aeddan wanted to swear. His slip could potentially jeopardize their plan. “Err, yes. My wife and her sister traveled from England on a mission to find out more about their suppliers.” His heart thudded slowly in his chest as the Indian smiled.
“Really? Your wife?” He cast an assessing glance at Elspeth, but she gave the impression of being unaware. Aeddan gritted his teeth.
“She is a woman of many talents. All of them dear to me.” He hoped the implication was clear—he kept what was his, and Elspeth was one of them.
“Yes, sahib. Well, we have several hours of traveling ahead of us. Come, let us ride.” The Indian remounted, then wheeled his horse around, and it jumped forward.
* * * *
They’d arrived some time earlier, and now Elspeth sat on a blanket, holding Sana’s reins. The noonday heat was enervating, but she had to be patient. If she’d learned anything since her arrival in India, it was that nothing was quick.
She waited while Aeddan spoke with several Indian men, including their host. Shading her eye with a cupped hand, she glanced at the water. It was a muddy ribbon that undulated through the land. A wooden boat had pulled up to the gangway, sitting high in the water. It didn’t really look terribly watertight, and she shuddered at the thought of crossing the deep, crocodile-infested river.
India, it seemed, was the ultimate land of deception. Nothing was quite as it seemed. She flicked away the flies that swarmed around with a lazy hand and waited while the negotiations continued.
“Excellent. We’ll settle the balance on arrival.” Her husband rose from the blanket where he’d been conducting business and handed over a pouch containing some sum of money. His gaze shifted in her direction, and a thrill of pleasure zinged through her, until his gaze slid over her shoulder.
Looking at him confused her. She wasn
’t rightly sure why, just that it did. On one hand, she was compelled to be with him, open to him intimately as much as she craved, yet she also had to protect the essence of herself.
The prince, for she was sure that was his title, moved closer. “Memsahib, if you will forgive me, my wife is nearby and has sought an audience with you. Would you permit this?”
Elspeth blinked. “Oh yes, of course.”
“Then I shall send for her. Remain where you are, if you will.”
He turned, spoke sternly to one of the men, and they scurried away. The heat of the sun bore down on her. Grundy brought her a pannikin of tea, which she was grateful for, and some fruit, before a cache of riders approached.
As the dust flew up, Aeddan drew close. “What’s happening?”
She gestured toward the rising plume. “I believe it’s the wife coming to pay me a visit.” His stare had her shrugging. “She asked for a meeting, and I said yes.”
Once more, the prince wandered toward where she sat, with Aeddan standing over her. “Sahib, memsahib, if you will permit me to introduce my wife, Amber. She was rescued as a child from slavers, and my father felt that she would be an excellent wife for me.”
The wife was petite and dark-haired, curved in all the right places though swathed in a saree of the most wondrous turquoise. The jewel crusting had Elspeth itching to reach out and touch.
“It is my honor and pleasure, sahib, memsahib.” She placed her hands together and whispered, “Namaste,” and Elspeth returned the greeting.
“What a beautiful saree, Princess Amber.”
The prince harrumphed, “Amber is best here, memsahib.”
“Of course.”
The men drifted away, allowing the women to sit together. “You travel with your husband. Is that not unusual, and in such dress?”
Elspeth laughed. “I guess so, but my husband is escorting me to meet with the weavers who stock my ships with silks. But looking at your saree, I wonder if it wouldn’t be wiser to meet with your weavers.”