The Tiger Prince (4 page)

He was lying. She had seen too many men who liked to prove their power over women with pain and subjugation when she was at Frenchie’s not to recognize the breed when she encountered it.

“You’ve left your bungalow three nights in a row to come into the city. You’ve been meeting Kartauk?”

“Yes.”

He glanced down at the knapsack she had dropped on the ground. “And taking him food?”

She nodded again.

“That is good. It would displease me if Kartauk suffered harm or deprivation.” He reached out and gently grasped her throat. “Now, you will tell me where he is so that I may place him again under my protection.”

“He’s hiding in one of the shops that border the river.”

“Which house?”

“Yellow sod. With a dirty striped awning.”

“You describe half the shops in Kasanpore.” He frowned. “You will take me there.”

“You don’t need me. I’ve told you what you wanted to know.”

“But is it the truth? I think I will make certain before I permit you to leave us. You carry the lantern, Pachtal. I will escort the lady.”

Pachtal released her arms and moved around to stand beside Abdar before reaching down to pick up the lantern from the street.

Jane’s lids lowered swiftly to veil her eyes as sudden hope spiraled through her. Pachtal’s action left her back unguarded, and she doubted if she would get a better opportunity to escape.

She meekly dropped her eyes as she whimpered, “Why won’t you let me go back to my bungalow? I’ve told you what—” In midsentence she lowered her head and launched herself at Abdar.

The top of her head crashed into his mouth.

He screamed in pain, his hand releasing her throat and flying to his bleeding lower lip.

She whirled and tore down the twisting, cobbled street.

“Get her!”

She heard the pounding of running steps behind her and Abdar’s venomous cursing.

She turned left at the corner, almost tripping over a beggar huddled in the shadows.

She caught her balance, avoided the beggar’s outstretched grasping hands, and ran on.

The beggar hurled obscenities after her and then let out a shrill screech of pain. She risked a glance over her shoulder and saw the beggar doubled over in the street, clutching his stomach as Pachtal and Abdar ran past him. They were gaining on her, swiftly closing the distance between them.

Panic choked her, and for an instant she couldn’t remember which way to turn. Left. Right led to the river. She must go left and try to lose herself in the bazaar. The day after she had decided to help Kartauk she had spent the entire morning in the bazaar, familiarizing herself with every stall and corner of the huge marketplace. Darkness had just fallen, and the bazaar would still be crowded. She could hide among the stalls until Abdar gave up the chase.

She turned the corner and burst into the crowd of people in the large square.

The bazaar.

Copper lanterns hanging on awning-covered booths. A camel burdened with rolled carpets moving with ponderous gait through the throng.

Noise. Beggars whining. Merchants calling out their wares.

She heard Abdar cursing behind her, but she was already darting through the throng and between the stalls. She passed a leather vendor, a pink-turbaned cleaner of ears wielding his small silver spoon in the orifice of a customer seated on a low stool, a gold merchant, a kiosk hung with wicker cages containing raucously squawking parrots. She glanced behind her again and her heart sank. As people recognized Abdar, they were making way for him.

Then, to her relief, she saw a small female elephant burdened with copper pots and pans and her master on the aisle that bordered the western edge of the bazaar. It was common knowledge Abdar hated elephants and avoided them at all cost. If given a choice of direction, he would surely choose another aisle. She ran ahead into
the thick crowd of people gathered around a vegetable booth to lose herself from Abdar’s view, turned left at the next booth, ran past the elephant, and then dove behind a fishmonger’s stall. She crouched low, moving far back into the shadows.

The overpowering stench of fish, elephant dung, garbage, and a heavy Oriental perfume drifting from the stall next to the fishmonger’s nearly gagged her. She tried to hold her breath, her eyes straining as she peered through the small opening between the stalls. She could see only the lower portion of bodies and tried frantically to remember what Abdar and Pachtal had been wearing. Dear God, all she could recall was Abdar’s smiling, childlike face and the vicious beauty of Pachtal’s well-shaped lips as he twisted her arm. The memory started her heart pounding so hard, she was sure it could be heard even above the clamor of the bazaar.

“Would you care to enlighten me why we are both in this extremely uncomfortable position?”

She whirled to peer into the shadows to the left of her.

Li Sung sat a few yards away with one leg folded beneath him and his bad leg stretched before him.

“What are you doing here?” she whispered.

“I saw you dart behind this disgustingly aromatic stall and thought it best to join you.”

“I told you to wait at the city gate.”

“And I chose to wait at the mouth of the street from which I knew you generally entered the bazaar. I decided I was too conspicuous at the gate. You know they do not like the Chinese here in Kasanpore, and I believe my pigtail was in great danger of being lifted from my—”

“Hush.” She turned back to scan the street. “Abdar.”

Li Sung went still. “Himself?”

She nodded, her gaze searching the flow of people passing the small opening. “With the same man who came to the site three days ago. They followed me from the bungalow, but I think we’re safe. If he’d seen me run back here, he would have come by now.” She scowled as
she settled back on her heels. “But I lost the knapsack with the food.”

Li Sung’s gaze wandered over her wild, tousled hair and the glimpse of pale breasts revealed by her unbuttoned shirt. His mouth tightened grimly. “And is that all you lost?”

She knew that expression very well. If she wasn’t careful, Li Sung’s protective instincts would be aroused, and that must be avoided at all costs. “No.” She grinned. “I also lost my temper. I butted my head against Abdar’s Up and split it like a walnut and then ran like the wind.” She quickly buttoned her shirt before reaching into the deep pocket of her denim trousers and pulling out a small chisel. “Give this to Kartauk. I bought it in the bazaar yesterday, and I’ll bet he’ll like it better than food anyway. I’ll try to get another knapsack to you tomorrow.”

Li Sung shook his head. “From now on, stay close to either the site or the bungalow. It’s too dangerous now that Abdar suspects you. We still have a little bread and cheese left, and I’ll come and get the supplies from now on.”

“Very well, I’ll leave a knapsack behind the pile of rails at the supply yard every other evening.” She reached into her pocket and slipped a key from a small brass ring. “I’ll keep the gate of the supply yard locked from now on to make it safer for you. Be careful.”

“And you also.” Li Sung took the key before rising with difficulty and limping toward her. “Turn around.”

“Why?”

“I’m going to rebraid your hair. This disarray displeases me.” “Here?”

“You do not want to call any more attention to yourself than you already have. If you had a fine black mane like my own, there would be no problem, but your hair is too gaudy not to be noticed.”

“It’s not gaudy,” she protested.

“Ugly, then. Hair was meant to be black, not red. God clearly made the Chinese and then grew weary and
careless with his palette. I cannot see why he lacked the discrimination as to experiment with yellow and red and …” He trailed off, his fingers quickly plaiting the bright strands into their usual thick single braid.

Over the years Li Sung had performed this task a thousand times, and the familiar ritual calmed her. She could feel her heartbeat steadying and the panic gradually leaving her.

“Have you been well?” Li Sung asked. “No more fever?”

“Not for over two weeks.”

“But you’re still taking the quinghao I gave you?”

“I’m not a foolish child, Li Sung. I know I have to keep well. I lost almost a month of work when I was ill.”

“And almost died. You forgot to add that unimportant detail.” He paused. “You are foolish to protect this man, you know. He is no stray puppy.”

“You know you like him.”

He thought about it. “He is amusing, but it is dangerous to like Kartauk.”

“Well, I like him.”

“Because you think him without defense, but he is not without weapons. Get in his way and he’ll pass over you like a runaway locomotive.”

He was probably right, but she knew she still could not give Kartauk up to Abdar. “He did me a favor. You know I was desperate.”

“He did himself a favor. He was hungry and you fed him.” He finished the braid and then took a scrap of string from his denim trousers and secured it. “If Patrick finds out about Kartauk, he will be angry.”

She tensed. “He won’t know.”

“Unless Abdar decides he wishes to involve him.”

“He won’t do that. Kartauk said Abdar doesn’t want his father to know he’s looking for him.” Jane tossed back her braid. “And Patrick won’t ask questions. He’s too busy building this blasted railroad.”

“You mean he is too busy drinking and whoring and letting you build his railroad.”

She didn’t bother to deny the charge as she would
have done with anyone else. “He’ll be better once we’ve left Kasanpore.”

“You said that about Yorkshire.” He turned her around and began to button her blouse. “And with every passing day you grow thinner and more weary and Patrick grows lazier and does not see.” He added softly, “Or does not care.”

“He does care.” She jerked away from him. “He just doesn’t know what to—the heat affects him.”

“It certainly gives him a great thirst.”

She could not deny that fact either, she thought wearily. These days Patrick started drinking in the afternoon and didn’t stop until he staggered off to bed at midnight. But surely his escalating drinking was being caused by this inferno of a country. Heaven knows, the difficulties they had faced in England seemed minor compared to suffocating heat, unskilled workers, and a maharajah whose impossible demands and pettish threats had driven them to the brink of bankruptcy. “I don’t want to talk about it.” She glanced cautiously out into the aisle before rising to her feet. “I have to get back to the bungalow and get some sleep. We’re starting to lay the track on the bridge over Sikor Gorge tomorrow.”

“And Patrick will be nowhere within a mile of the site.”

“He will. He promised me that—” She stopped as she met Li Sung’s steady gaze and then burst out, “And if he’s not, I won’t care. It’s no hardship. I like it.”

“You like doing the work and Patrick getting the credit?”

“He needs me.”

“So you give and give until there is no more to give.” Li Sung raised his hand as she started to speak. “But why should I complain? I take as much as Patrick.”

“Nonsense. You’ve always worked harder than anyone on the line.” She stood up and moved cautiously out of the shadows toward the aisle.

“What if Abdar is waiting for you at the bungalow?”

“I’ll circle and go in the back way.” She paused to smile gently at him over her shoulder. “Stop worrying
about me. Just keep Kartauk safe and tell him I’m trying to find a way to slip him out of Kasanpore.”

“He is not impatient.” He looked down at the chisel she had given him. “Sometimes I wonder if he is even conscious of the passage of time.”

She knew what he meant. She had also seen Kartauk in that oblivious state. “He can’t stay here forever with Abdar searching for him. We’ll have to get him away.” She hesitated as a sudden thought occurred to her. “You weren’t waiting here in the bazaar because you’d just come from Zabrie?”

Li Sung gazed at her impassively. “Why would you assume that?”

She persisted. “Did you?”

He shrugged. “A man has needs.”

“Abdar saw you at the site with me. It’s not safe for you to be seen in the city.”

“I will make sure I do not lead him to Kartauk.”

“That’s not the question. It’s not safe for you to—”

“It is not your concern.”

She could feel him closing against her, drawing back into himself, and felt a surge of helplessness and frustration. Sometimes Li Sung appeared as old as Buddha and at other times he was only a sensitive, prickly, proud young man. She could not tell him it was very much her concern and that what had started as an act of compassion might now be a magnet drawing him into a net. “Will you at least promise to be careful?”

He smiled. “Always.”

It was the only concession she was going to be able to wrest from him, but if the danger continued, she knew she would have to do something about Zabrie. “See that you are.” She didn’t wait for an answer as she glided from behind the stall, looking cautiously both ways before beginning to make her way swiftly through the bazaar.

Savitsar Palace   
Kasanpore, India
May 30, 1876