the house and kill the boy."
Preeya, in hearing her name, looked back and forth between
them in obvious distress. Alex hastily assured her that
the argument had nothing to do with her and then turned her
full attention back to Aiden Terrell. "You're being ridiculous,"
she accused. "Absolutely ridiculous."
And, just as she expected, he was ready with a rejoinder.
''No more so than you are, Miss Radford. Life is risk. You
can't avoid it. Simply opening your eyes and climbing out of
bed every morning is fraught with peril. You could slip on
the rug, fall, and bash your brains on the bedstead."
''Did you not notice the bed in your room?"
"Don't split hairs," he countered, cocking a brow. "You're
an extremely intelligent woman and you know full good and
well the point I'm trying to make. You can't-and most importantly,
shouldn't treat Mohan as if he's some fragile
piece of porcelain. He needs to be treated as a normal child
and allowed to take reasonable chances. If you do, his general
attitude will be much improved and you won't be nearly
as frustrated with him."
''I'm not frustrated," she lied, putting down her fork,
afraid that he'd notice that her hand was trembling.
''The hell you aren't."
She blinked at him, not so much shocked by his language,
but more for the fact that he so clearly understood how she
felt deep down inside. She'd tried very hard to keep it locked
away, hidden from the casual observer. That she'd failed was
more than disturbing, it was frightening. Alex swallowed and
forced herself to take a breath. With what she hoped passed
for a serene smile, she shrugged and said, "We'll simply have
to agree to disagree on that point. And on the matter of
Mohan's daily activities."
All right, Aiden thought, so it's not easy. He'd underestimated
her sense of independence. And her mother-hen tendencies.
But if she thought he was going to give up the
voyage because he'd encountered a little patch of rough sea,
then she was underestimating his tenacity. As well as his abhorrence
of boredom. He and Mohan had common ground
in that .
It might well turn out to be the longest damn day of his
life, but he was going to keep pushing until she didn't have
the wherewithal to fight him another step, until he'd so worn
her down she'd have to trust him if for no other reason than
to get her exhausted, curvaceous little body home.
''Tell me, Miss Radford ... Do you know how to ride?"
She sighed and closed her eyes for a second before she
said, "No, I don't."
"Hunt, sail, or fish?"
She looked as if she wanted to pick up her fork and throw
it at him. "Of course not. Nor do I sled or skate. And I
wouldn't play cricket, football, or rugby even if you held a
gun to my head."
''Would you care to learn?" Her eyes widened and he
couldn't keep from chuckling. "Not the rougher sports. Those
are strictly for men. I was thinking of the others. We could
start with riding. Teaching two doesn't require much more
effort than teaching one."
"You've presumed that I've given my consent for .Mohan
to engage in these activities. I thought I made It clear
when-"
"I haven't presumed anything of the sort," he interrupted,
smiling at her. «And you did make your position clear. Now
let me make mine just as understood. I don't care whether
you give your consent or not. I've made a decision and it's
going to stand."
She stared at him, her eyes wide again and her lips slightly,
invitingly parted.
"Yes, Miss Radford," he assured her, placing his napkin
on the table beside his plate. ''This is indeed one of those occasions
I mentioned in the carriage earlier today. I decide.
You and Mohan acquiesce without protest. There is no discussion."
"You are positively ... dictatorial," she sputtered.
He shrugged and nodded. "I was born to command. I happen
to do it well and you happen to be in no position to defy
me." Rising from his seat, he added. I d like to first our
tour of the house as you promised. Whenever you're ready.
of course. I'll wait for you in the hall."
He didn't give her a chance to object. Turning to Preeya,
he bowed, and said, "Preeya, thank you for the meal. I have
absolutely no idea what it was, but it was delicious."
Still smiling, he left the dining room thinking that,
all the exchange had turned out precisely as he'd envisioned
So far, anyway. There was always the possibility that
Alexandra Radford would follow him out for the sole purpose
of summarily dismissing him.
Alex glared at her half-eaten lunch, wondering what he'd do
if she refused to get up and trot obediently after him. Preeya
leaned forward to place a hand on her arm and say in Hindi,
"It is never a good thing to argue with a man, dear. They do
not like to think of women as being as strong as they are."
"Women are every bit as capable as men in every respect,"
Alex maintained angrily.
"Agreed." The older woman patted her hand. "But that does
not mean men like to know it. And there is much to be gained
in keeping them contented and blissfully ignorant of that fact."
"Such as?"
”Aside from a quieter house and smoother digestion, it
makes them much more attentive lovers."
For heaven's sake, she'd met the man only a few hours
ago! Yes, he was handsome and incredibly well built. Yes, he
was well spoken and for the most part gentlemanly. But
those were hardly the basic criteria for establishing an intimate
relationship. ''As I said the last time you spoke of this,"
Alex replied, trying to be kind about her dismissal of the notion,
"I have no intention of making him a lover. He simply
doesn't interest me in that way."
Again Preeya patted her hand. This time a quiet chuckle
accompanied the gesture. "My dear, you are the worst liar in
the world. You really must stop trying. You're embarrassing
yourself."
It wasn't the first time she'd had that fact pointed out.
Rather than continue an obviously failed protest, she
changed the avenue of approach. "He's far too full of his
own viewpoints to be even marginally tolerable."
Preeya considered her for a moment, a smile tickling the
comers of her mouth and her dark eyes shining. "I've been
listening to the sounds and watching your faces. It feels and
looks very much like a lovers' quarrel."
"Well, it's not."
''What is it that you are arguing about so passionately?"
They were, thankfully, to the summary part of the exchange.
Alex sighed in relief. "How to properly parent Mohan.
He contends that the days should be filled with riding, hunting,
fishing, sailing, and all warmer of wild, uncontrolled sports."
"Ah," Preeya said, leaning back in her chair and nodding.
"Your gentleman wants Mohan to be a boy. You want him to
be a prince."
"He is a prince," Alex righteously countered.
Preeya laced her fingers and stared at the dining room
wall. Quietly, her gaze still focused in the near distance, she
said, "Mohan is both a boy and a prince. You are both right.
Perhaps you might seek a way by which Mohan can benefit
from the wisdom and vision you both possess."
As always, Preeya was right. Alex barely kept herself
from sagging as her anger evaporated in a single instant. In
its absence, she felt nothing but overwhelmed and beleaguered.
The threat of tears tightening her throat, she struggled
for control of her wildly careening emotions. "He's not
my gentleman:' she asserted, clinging to the only real certainty
she could see.
what other reason would he make the effort to assist you in
the guidance of Mohan? Nothing requires that effort of him.
He is offering it out of his desire to be, meaningful to you."
She didn't want him to be meaningful. She didn't want
his help with anything beyond guarding Mohan. She didn't
want to need him for more. Needing people made you weak
and vulnerable; it obligated you to them. And she had
enough obligations already.
"While you ponder that truth," Preeya went on, "you should
also consider another, Alex, my dear. He knows that you're
only pretending to find him unattractive. His are the eyes that
can see through a thousand veils. Perhaps you should ask
yourself if it might be pointless and foolish to continue to
wear them."
Pointless, no doubt. But foolish? It would be even more
foolish to let them fall, to consciously allow Aiden Terrell to
look fully into her soul. Better that he only suspect that she
lacked any moral depth than to blatantly display the unflattering
truth for him.
"Alex, dear?"
She recognized the tone. Part of her relaxed in the knowledge
that the personal inquisition was over. Another part
braced, wondering which word Preeya had picked this time.
"What does 'manly' mean?"
Yes, it would be that one. Preeya had an uncanny ability
to pick the most sensitive words out of any English conversation.
"It means virile," she explained matter-of-factly.
"Masculine. Very much a man."
"Like your gentleman."
"Yes, but he's not mine," she corrected weakly.
Preeya arched a brow and smiled broadly as she rose to
her feet. Gathering up the plates, she said, "He is standing in
the hall. It is not wise to make men wait too long for you. But
for just long enough that they do not take your appearance
for granted."
Alex had the distinct and ' uncomfortable feeling that
Preeya's last bit of wisdom was intended to apply to more
than just her promise to show Aiden Terrell the upstairs
rooms. But she was too battered to think clearly and so she set
aside any immediate consideration of it, placed her napkin beside
her plate, and rose from the table. Thanking Preeya for
the meal, she left the dining room to fulfill her duty and a
promise she wished she hadn't made.
Aiden had no idea what the two women had talked about,
but the effect on Alex was obvious. He'd seen sailors adrift
on a raft who had more spark in them. She wasn't going to
send him packing, that was certain. She didn't have the energy
for it. This wasn't quite the surrender he had in mind,
though.
''As a point of information," he said, hoping to bring a bit
of her starch back to the surface, "I enjoy a good game of
rugby."
She rewarded him with a delicate snort and a roll of her
eyes as she walked past him. ''That doesn't surprise me in
the least," she quipped over her shoulder as she halted in the
doorway just down the hall. ''This is the salon, sitting room,
parlor, whatever you choose to call it. It serves for our communal
gathering."
She disappeared inside and Aiden followed her into a
most curiously appointed room. Unlike the dining room, this
room wasn't purely English. A camel-backed settee, a wing
chair-the mate to the one downstairs, he realized - and a
few carved wooden pieces paid tribute to traditional English
tastes, but that was the sum total of it. The rest of it looked a
great deal like his quarters.
Thick, fringed, intricately patterned carpets covered the
floors. There was a chaise of sorts, draped with what looked
like paisley shawls. And there were pillows. Lots of pillows.
Large and small and in between. Plaids, stripes, solids,
and plain. What he supposed were lamps were
nothing more than brass cylinders punched full of holes. A
short English chest of drawers sat against the far wall to the
right of the crackling fireplace. In the center of the top was a
statue of a woman with what looked like four painfully bent
arms. Little pots of sticks sat around her.
"It looks very comfortable," he offered cautiously, not
wanting to offend. ''An interesting combination of English
and Indian styles."
Nodding, she bent to retrieve a pillow from the carpet.
''With the Indian part of it being ever so much more inviting
and comfortable," she said, tossing it casually toward the
chaise.
Since she'd opened the conversational door and he was
curious as to how she thought, he ventured, "You sound as
though you've been a bit let down by your countrymen."
Going about tidying the room, she answered, "It's difficult
to maintain that British ways are superior when your back is
aching from sitting on an unforgivingly stiff English settee."
"Then why not admit the obvious truth and throw yourself
into the pillows?"
"I'm employed because I'm British," she answered, peering
inside one of the brass tubes. She extracted a squat candle
stub as she went on. ''And because I'm British, my ways
are considered to be worth knowing and emulating. If I suggested
that Indian ways might be better than mine there'd be
no point in keeping me about."
Watching her put the candle remnant in a basket beside
the chest, he took a chance. "So you live a lie?"
Shrugging, she got a new candle--a tall, fat, brown
one--from the chest under the statue. "I've never claimed it to
be an ideal existence," she answered, carefully placing it into
the cylinder. She looked up and met his gaze, adding, "It is,
however, a reasonably secure one."
"As long as you can keep up the pretense."
"It helps if one doesn't dwell on the incongruities."
"What is, is," he guessed, remembering what she'd told
him earlier about Mohan's beliefs.
"You learn quickly, Mr. Terrell," she offered as she glided
past him. "I'm most impressed." She stopped in the center of
the hall and turned back, nonchalantly but effectively blocking
his exit from the parlo
r. "My room, of course, is down
there," she said, gesturing to the hall on her left. She lifted
her right hand toward the other end of the hall and Aiden
saw her intention.
"I'd like to see it, please."
Her arm falling slowly to her side, she looked at him for a
long moment, clearly weighing a decision. ''My private
quarters are none of your concern."
There was no fire in her assertion, just a quiet wariness
that he found utterly intriguing. "I beg to differ," Aiden
countered gently but firmly. "There are three rooms on this
side of the hall. I've seen one of them, mine. It's on the end
and has five windows and two doors. One door comes in
from the hall, the other opens into Mohan's room. Two of
the windows overlook the rear of the house, three overlook
the city to the east. If I wanted to gain illegal access to this
house, all I'd have to do is climb anyone of several trees on
the east side, lean out on a limb, break the window glass and
crawl inside."
She continued to study him, one delicate brow arched and
her wariness apparently unaffected by his explanation. Undaunted,
he pressed on.
"Your room, Miss Radford, is undoubtedly-British architecture
being the predictable creature that it is configured
exactly as my own. I need to see what lies outside your