Barrett's gaze fell to his hand and his smile quirked
higher. "You didn't have to hit her, did you?"
"I was suckered into a rugby game this afternoon," he
replied, lifting his hand, flexing his fingers, and wondering
what was in the salve Alex had used. The pain was gone. Absolutely
gone. "Against Blackthorn. Walker-Hines plays for
them."
"Oh, let me guess," Barrett replied drolly. "With his usual
sorry lack of good judgment, he cuddled up next to Alex and
made an indecent proposal."
"If he'd actually touched her, your solicitor would be
posting bond for me because I would have killed him."
Mohan grinned. Barrett shook his head slightly, saying,
"Damn shame he exercised a smidgen of good sense today."
He brightened and his brow went back up. "So was Blackthorn
finally defeated?"
"Five to two."
"Resoundingly. Good show, John Aiden," he congratulated,
clapping him on his shoulder. "But I must say that
you don't seem appropriately pleased by the day's successes.
If I had to guess, I'd say that something's niggling at
you."
Aiden looked down at Mohan and smiled. "Preeya's off to
market with 'Sawyer and I think Alex is in the kitchen seeing
to the start of dinner. Would you please go see if she needs
any help?"
The boy sighed, pouted for a moment, and then nodded.
He'd barely walked off toward the kitchen when Barrett
said, "You think Alex is in the kitchen? You don't know?"
Aiden ignored the bait and kept to his purpose. He
rammed his hands into his pockets and squarely met his
friend's gaze. "What do you know of India?"
"Not much. Why?"
"Let's walk toward your carriage while we talk," he suggested,
turning even as he did, forestalling any objections
Barrett might have. When he fell in beside him, Aiden began.
"I keep collecting puzzle pieces and I don't know enough
about India to know if the picture they're forming makes any
real sense or not."
"Apparently what you think you're seeing troubles you.
Toss the pieces out on the table and we'll look at them together."
"I don't even know where to begin:' he admitted.
Barrett chuckled. "I seem to recall Alex Radford saying
something in the same vein the morning she walked into my
office. And as I further recall, you weren't the least interested
in accommodating her confusion."
Well, he'd been working at being an ass that morning. It
was a testament to Alex's inherent sense of fairness that
she'd allowed him to redeem himself. "I didn't understand
then how complex her world is. Or how complicated she is.
Even if I had forever and a day, I'd never fully know her,
Barrett. Never. She'd always surprise me."
"But you don't have forever and a day."
A reminder, unusually subtle for Barrett, that Alex was a
temporary relationship both professionally and privately.
"Correct," he agreed, admonishing himself to keep to the
public side of his intentions. "And if I'm right about the puzzle,
Alex doesn't, either."
"You're still gnawing at the notion that she's the one in
danger, not the boy?"
"She's the one who was almost kidnapped. She's the one
being followed. I caught a glimpse of him this morning at
the auction and again this afternoon. He's the same man who
was at the window that morning. Alex didn't recognize him
but she says that he's probably of the same caste as Mohan
and his father."
"And is that important?"
"Hell, I don't know," Aiden confessed with a frustrated
sigh. '''The subject of caste comes up frequently enough,
though. Mostly in connection with what one can and can't
do. I swear, they have more rules than we do."
"You'd better fall in love with someone in your own caste
because you're not going to be allowed to cross the line for
them."
Barrett nodded and stuffed his hands in his pockets, too.
"I'd suggest that British expectations aren't all that much
different except that my mother is now willing to consider a
daughter-in-law from the untitled class if I'd just get on with
seriously looking for one. Apparently they're more patient
about the production of grandchildren in India."
Aiden looked at him askance. "How is that relevant?"
"It's really not," Barrett admitted with a weak smile. "Just
my personal cross of the moment. Who fell in love with whom
and couldn't be together?"
Barrett and his questions. He was a lot like Mohan. Except
considerably more dangerous. "It was merely an illustration,"
he lied, honoring his promise to Alex. "I wasn't speaking
about anyone in particular."
Before Barrett could call him on it and press, he tossed
out the next piece he'd collected since they'd last talked ..
"Alex tells me that Kedar-that's Mohan's father-has two
main rivals for the throne. His cousin and his younger
brother. Both of them are presumably still in India and under
his watchful eye. Now, according to Alex, neither one of them
would have the slightest interest in seeing her come to any
harm. They're more interested in removing Kedar from the
throne and Mohan from the line of inheritance."
"So why is someone following her?"
"My question exactly," Aiden countered as they reached
the parked carriage and stopped. "Mohan's whereabouts is
no real secret. They don't have to follow Alex to find him.
And that business about her marrying the raja someday...
Alex assures me. that Mohan doesn't know what he's talking
about. That it could never happen. They're of different castes."
"Well," Barrett replied, frowning as he stared off into the
distance, "so much for the possibility of someone wanting to
keep her from producing half-English heirs to the royal
throne. Which is rather disappointing, actually. I was favoring
that theory."
"It was the only one I had," Aiden groused. "Dammit,
Barrett. I can feel it, I can smell, but I can't see it. What
threat can she pose? To whom?"
"Maybe she knows something she isn't supposed to know
or saw something she wasn't supposed to see."
''Then you'd think she'd be aware of it," he countered, his
chest tightening. "She insists that there's absolutely no reason
anyone would want to harm her."
"Maybe Preeya knows," Barrett ventured. "Have you
asked her?"
"I didn't figure out that Alex was actually the one in real
danger until this morning. We've only been home a little
while and Preeya's still off to market with Sawyer."
"It's a little late in the day to be at the market, don't you
think?"
''This household doesn't run on a clock. Not a British
one, anyway. When she gets back, I'll ask. But honestly, Barrett,
I don't think she knows anything. If she thought Alex
might come to harm, she wouldn't keep quiet. She'd come to
tell me why and who."
"I don't know that it would do any good to ask Mohan.
He's proven himself to be a somewhat dubious source of information.
Besides, how much could a ten-year-old know?"
"I'll ask anyway. It can't hurt."
They fell into silence, Barrett staring off into the city and
he scowling at the toes of his boots and feeling a growing
sense of unease. A question, unformed and unaskable, taunted
him from the edge of his awareness, beyond his reach, beyond
his frustrated grasp. If he focused, though, and stretched-
"Alex's mother and the raja?" Barrett asked abruptly.
His brows knitted, Aiden considered his friend in confusion.
have to do with the price of tea in China?"
''The two who fell in love and couldn't be together," Barrett
explained, still looking off. ''Were they Alex's mother and the
raja?"
Christ. Give the man just the tiniest little crumb and he
could build the perfect cake from it. "I didn't tell you that."
Barrett looked over at him and grinned. "You didn't have
to. I can--every now and again-put two and two together
and come up with a reasonable conclusion."
"It's supposed to be a secret. I promised Alex that I'd
keep it."
"It's safe," he assured him.
Which was far more than could be said about Alex, Aiden
realized. "Well, I Wish you'd put that incredible deductive
ability to work on my problem. It's been days. Why again today?"
"I'm afraid I didn't follow that. Deductive genius only
goes so far."
Aiden sighed heavily as the unknown question flitted
past his awareness again. "He was at the window of the
Blue Elephant the day Alex was almost kidnapped," he
said, crisply laying down the pieces that felt relevant. "And
then he disappeared from sight. Why did he appear again
today?"
Closer, he thought. But still not the important, elusive
question.
"I assume that we're talking about the stranger?"
Aiden nodded, staring off blindly, straining to see inward.
"I call him the shadow warrior."
"Has Alex been out of the house since that morning?
Other than today, I mean."
"No." Closer still, but not yet close enough. "But she
wasn't out that morning, either, and he was there. Why was
he there-twice-today?"
"Good questions. I wish I could conjure the answers for
you. The only way I can see to get them is to force them out
of the Indian."
"But he has to be caught first and he's quick," Aiden supplied.
"You never get more than a second's glimpse of him
before he's gone."
"Even the best make a mistake eventually, John Aiden,"
his friend assured him, clapping him on the shoulder. "When
he does ... " Barrett opened his carriage door, called up to
his driver with instructions to take him to his club, and then
climbed inside.
The door was closed and the driver had the reins in hand
when the question danced close enough for its outlines to be
faintly seen. It was sufficient. Aiden groaned at the simplicity
of it and understood both the implications and the path it
necessitated.
"Barrett! Wait!" Gripping the edge of the open window,
lie asked, "Can you come back here around two in the morning?"
"If you need me to, yes. What do you have in mind?"
He needed time to think the specific details through, but
the central task was crystalline clear. "Leave the carriage at
home," he instructed simply. "Wear your London hunting
clothes and bring your gun. I'll explain it all then."
"Two it is."
Aiden stepped back and signaled the driver. Watching the
carriage roll away, he couldn't help but think that he
shouldn't have spent that year drinking himself into a blind
stupor. Now that he needed and wanted to see clearly again,
it was damn hard to do. And it took far too long. He was always
two beats behind the music. So far, he'd been able to
recover from the deficit quickly enough that no harm had
come to either Alex or Mohan. And maybe, just maybe, and
if he were truly lucky, by morning the general dullness of his
brain wouldn't matter anymore.
Where, exactly? he wondered, turning slowly to survey
the buildings and alleyways around the Blue Elephant. He
was there, watching; Aiden could feel it in his bones. It was
part of his unease. But only a small part. The largest part of it
came from the gut feeling that time was quickly running out.
He moved to the edge of the yard, widening his visual
search of the neighborhood. Somewhere ...
A rented hack eased up to the curb just a few feet away,
interrupting his quest. The door opened and Sawyer, market
basket in hand, stepped out. He immediately turned back
and offered his hand and Preeya gracefully joined him on
the walk, accepting his arm. The hack rolled away and Aiden
watched, fascinated as the two servants made their way toward
him. Oblivious to his presence, he realized.
"Sawyer," he said in greeting as they drew close enough
that he didn't have to raise his voice. "Preeya."
Sawyer actually started. Then, his composure back in
place, he cleared his throat and affably said, "Good afternoon,
sir," as he led Preeya past without so much as a hitch
in his stride.
Aiden pivoted, watching and grinning as a surprising
possibility took shape. "Sawyer?" he called after the butler.
"Are you ... wallowing?"
Sawyer stopped in his tracks and turned back, a silvery
brow raised. He seemed to consider and discard several responses
before he smiled and replied, "Your shirt is misbuttoned,
sir."
Aiden looked down. What he could see looked just fine to
him. There weren't any gaps, no holes missed. He reached up
for the collar. His stomach rolled over as his heart slammed
into the base of his throat. One side was a button higher than
the other. And he'd stood there all that time, talking to Barrett,
with it like that. He might as well have had a sign hanging
around his neck proclaiming his guilt. Barrett had known.
He would have had to. There was no way he couldn't. And the son of
a bitch hadn't said a single damn word about it.
The floodtide of embarrassing realization was abruptly
stemmed when Preeya stepped closer and reached up toward
the center of his chest. He looked down at her hand, acutely
puzzled. Until he saw the long, raven-dark strand of hair she
slowly, gently pulled from a buttonhole. When she had it
free, she held it up between them, smiling at it, then handed
it to him, her grin knowing and wide as she met his gaze.
"Thank you, Preeya," he managed to choke out as he took
it from her.
"If you' have no objections, sir," Sawyer said, obviously
fighting a smile, "Preeya and I will be dining privately in the
kitchen this evening."
As though he were in any sort of position to mention,
much less lecture on, the value of propriety. "None at all.
Enjoy."
''Thank you, sir." And with that, he presented his arm to
Preeya again and guided her off toward their private world.
Aiden watched them go, shaking his head, thinking that
the kitchen seemed to be a place with considerable romantic
influence. First Alex and him, and now apparently-
He growled and closed his eyes. He'd pickled his brain
in brandy. There was no other' explanation. Otherwise, he
wouldn't have forgotten that he'd all but bluntly asked Alex
to share his bed tonight And there was no waving Barrett off
and postponing the hunt until tomorrow night. The threat was
there and, he suspected, drawing closer. It had to be nipped
before it bloomed into real harm.
Two beats behind? he thought. More like six. He could
only hope that Alex was not only the most ravishing, breathtaking
woman he'd ever met, but also the most patient and
understanding.
Chapter 16
All things in their time, Alex reminded herself as she brushed
her hair. That dinner had been very late and that Sawyer had