Page 25

The Tiger Prince Page 25

by Iris Johansen


She closed her eyes. “Sweet Mary, what an arrogant coxcomb you are. I do not know how I can bear to be in the same room with you.”

“Because you need me.”

“Need?” Her lids flew open. “I don’t need anyone. Certainly not an impudent braggart who believes all women are useless if not in bed or posing for one of your infernal statues.”

“Not totally useless. I tolerate you who refuse to pose for me and give me neither pleasure nor—”

“Tolerate me.” She stood up, glaring at him. “It’s I who tolerate you. You occupy this stable, which we now need for horses and livestock, and give neither aid nor—”

“You’re right.”

“What?”

He smiled gently. “I’m a selfish scoundrel who causes you nothing but grief.”

“You certainly are.” She gazed at him suspiciously. “Why are you being so agreeable?”

“Perhaps I am lonely and do not wish you to leave. Sit down and finish your coffee.”

“You, lonely?” She slowly sat back down on the stool. “You’re never lonely.”

“How do you know?” He went to the stove and poured himself a cup of coffee. “A man’s needs are sometimes not only of the body. Li Sung is not the only one who does not choose to reveal his weaknesses. There are times when we all do things to bring about a desired result without baring our souls.” He resumed his seat at the worktable. “Perhaps I struck those women with my lightning because I knew it would bring you to me.”

“Nonsense.”

He threw back his head and laughed. “You know me too well. You’re right, why should a man of my greatness fear to ask for what I want.”

“You certainly did not fear to ask what you wanted of Ellen MacTavish,” she said tartly.

He shrugged. “Some needs are simpler than others to satisfy. However, I ask myself why you did not feel it necessary to reprove me for my philandering until today when Ellen came to you yesterday morning.”

“I was busy yesterday.” She looked away from him. “I had no time for trivialities. You surely do not think I made an excuse to see you?”

“Heaven forbid I would so flatter myself.” He sipped his coffee. “But I did notice you appear a bit strained today.”

“Ellen MacTavish—”

“Would not have caused you to blink an eye. I’m sure you scolded her for her lack of virtue and sent her about her business. What’s really wrong?” He met her gaze. “Ian?”

Relief poured through her in a soothing stream. He had guessed, so now she could talk about it. Kartauk always managed to know what she was feeling and would have probed relentlessly until she unburdened herself. This odd bond between them had existed since that afternoon three years earlier when he had come to her sitting room after her father’s funeral to express his condolences. She had never understood why she had found herself talking to him when she could confide in no one else. She had revealed feelings toward her father she had not even shown Ian—love, disappointment … and bitterness. He had listened impassively and afterward dismissed her confidences as if they had never taken place. He had gone back to his workroom, leaving her blessedly free. “Ian won’t go to Spain.”

“You knew that three months ago. Ruel will change his mind. When does he come?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Then you have nothing to worry about.”

“You have greater confidence in Ruel than I do. I’m not sure I was wise in following your advice. Jane was upset when I told her he was coming.”

“She must come to terms with Ruel sometime. You need help and he can give it.”

“And nothing else matters?”

“I’m very fond of Jane.” He looked down into the depths of his cup. “But sometimes it’s necessary to make choices.”

“And you choose Ian?”

“Ian?” He drank the rest of his coffee in two swallows and set the cup on the table. “But of course. Ian has the greater need. We all must make sacrifices for Ian. He had a bad night?”

“How did you know?”

“You would have not brought up Spain again before Ruel arrived if you’d not been prodded.”

“He coughed all night.” Her hand tightened on the cup. “And yet when I mentioned Spain he laughed at me. He said Glenclaren needs him. It makes no difference that I need him too.”

“Did you tell him that?”

“Are you mad? Isn’t he carrying enough burdens without adding guilt?”

“No, you would not want to add to his burden.” He smiled. “But I mean nothing to you and have strong shoulders that can shrug off any burden. Tell me, I want to know.”

He did want to know. His gaze was fixed intently on her face, and she could feel the strength of his will enfolding her.

“Let it go,” he said softly. “Give it to me. Start last night when the coughing started.”

She drew a deep breath and began.

He listened intently, his clever fingers molding the clay in front of him as the words burst from her in a torrent. She was not conscious of the passing of time, but at one point Kartauk rose to his feet to light the lamp on the wooden support beside the table. Then he sat back down and listened again.

She finally stopped speaking, and silence fell between them. Peace.

Kartauk’s powerful hand smashed down on the clay form on the table in front of him!

“What—” Her gaze flew to his face. “Why did you do that? You worked on it all afternoon.”

“It was not good enough.” He picked up a towel and wiped his hands. “It is better to destroy with one blow than try to make something magnificent out of the commonplace.” He grinned. “Not that I could ever be commonplace. For an ordinary man, that effort might have culminated the work of a lifetime.”

Her moment of uneasiness vanished, and she smiled back at him. “Arrogance.”

“Truth.” He stood up and stretched lazily. “And here is another truth. It is time you went back to your Ian. It will be dark soon and he’ll begin to worry.”

“Yes.” She rose to her feet but stood there hesitating. “Are you coming to play chess with Ian after supper tonight?”

“Not tonight.” He made a face as he looked down at the mangled clay on the table. “I have work to do here.”

She started for the door. “Then I’ll no doubt see you when Ruel arrives.”

“Possibly.” He was frowning with absorption, his hands once more kneading the clay.

He had already forgotten her presence, forgotten her words. Well, that was what she wished, wasn’t it? He gave her silence and peace and then closed her away from him. Yet, for some reason, today this isolation bothered her.

She paused at the door as a thought occurred to her. “You’ve never done one of me, have you?”

“What?”

“You’re making a bust of Li Sung without his knowledge. How do I know you haven’t modeled one of me as well?”

“You’re wondering if I have your likeness secreted away among my treasures?” He shook his head. “No, madam.”

She felt an absurd rush of relief. “I wouldn’t put it past you. No one is safe when your art is weighed in the balance.”

“True.” He lifted his head. “But I’ve never made a bust of you.”

“Why not?” she asked curiously. “I would not dare.”

She started to laugh and then stopped, suddenly breathless and unsure as she met his gaze.

Then he looked down and resumed kneading the clay. He said lightly, “Even I tremble before the laird’s lady’s righteous wrath.”

A tumult of confused emotions streamed through her, relief and disappointment foremost. For a moment she had felt as if she had been about to discover some great and mysterious truth about Kartauk and then been cheated of the knowledge. What did she really know about him? He never spoke of his past, never asked for help except as it pertained to his art, and let no one see beyond that bold, flamboyant exterior. During these years she had tak
en much from him and given nothing in return. Perhaps he had not been joking when he had said he had needs of the spirit that had to be met. “I did not tell the truth,” she said haltingly. “You would be missed if you left Glenclaren.”

He stopped in midmotion but did not look at her. “By Ian?”

“Yes.” She moistened her lips before she said awkwardly, “And by me. I believe you kinder than you pretend.”

“Do you?” He glanced up and a flashing smile lit his face. “But I do not pretend. Don’t judge me by your standards. I’m a ruthless heathen, remember?”

She nodded. “How could I forget?”

“And now a heartless womanizer.”

The rogue was baiting her. Why the devil was she worrying about the sensitivity of his blasted feelings? “That you most certainly are. From now on when you strike one of those sluts with your divine fire, make sure you stay to put out the blaze yourself.”

She heard his roar of laughter as she stalked out of the stable.

Li Sung knocked on the door of Jane’s cottage only moments after she arrived back at the mill site.

“What’s wrong?” he asked when he saw her face as she opened the door. “Ian?”

Blast it, she had known Li Sung would notice her discomposure and that was the reason she had gone to the cottage instead of directly to the mill. She shook her head. “He’s no worse.” She saw the envelope in his hand. “For me?”

“It came right after you left. I thought you would want to see it right away.” He handed her the envelope. “It’s from Lancashire.”

Hope leapt as she eagerly tore open the letter. Dear heaven, let the answer be yes. She needed good news today. Bitter disappointment flooded through her as she scanned the brief note.

“Another refusal?” Li Sung’s gaze was on her face.

“Yes.” She folded the letter and stuffed the letter back in the envelope. “It seems my services aren’t needed by the Lancashire railroad.”

“That’s all they said?”

“Oh no.” She smiled crookedly. “Mr. Radkins suggests I occupy myself in more genteel pursuits and forget this foolishness of trying to involve myself in masculine endeavors.”

“He is the fool,” Li Sung said.

“Well, it appears the world is full of fools. This is the fifth refusal I’ve received in the last six months.” She tossed the envelope on the table. The rejection was a blow she hadn’t needed when she was already feeling this sense of panic and uncertainty. “I suppose I should have expected it. The most incompetent of men are perceived as better than a woman.”

“We could go back to America,” Li Sung suggested. “Perhaps they would be more open than these British.”

“That’s too far away. I need to be in Scotland or, at least, England, in case Ian needs me.”

He shook his head. “I have never understood this guilt you feel for Ian’s injury.”

She had been tempted during the last three years to tell him the reason, but now she was glad she had not. She did not need to cope with a bristling, defensive Li Sung as well as Ruel.

“Why?” Li Sung asked. “The accident was no one’s fault.”

How she wished that were true, that she was as free of guilt as Li Sung thought. God in heaven, she was weary of shouldering the knowledge that Ian would be strong and well if she had not blinded herself to what Patrick might do. But she had no choice but to shoulder it when every time she saw Ian her guilt was there before her in all its heart-wrenching tragedy.

“I like Ian. Naturally, I wish to do all I can for him.” She abruptly turned away and snatched up her tartan shawl from the chair and moved toward the door. “I feel like a walk. Are you coming with me?”

He shook his head as he limped toward his horse. “My leg has taken enough punishment for one day, and you seem more in the mood for running away than walking. I’m going back to the castle and will see you tomorrow morning.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Unless you have further need of me.”

She forced a smile. “The day’s work is done and the workers have gone home. Why should I have need of you? The letter? I was expecting it.”

“And were you expecting the news from the castle that made you look as pale and shaking as you do when you have the fever?”

“I don’t look—” She stopped as she met his gaze. “Ruel MacClaren will be arriving at Glenclaren tomorrow.”

“I see.” He smiled faintly. “No wonder you are disturbed,”

“I’m not disturbed. Uneasy, perhaps.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “He … unsettles me. He unsettles everybody.”

“He has done a great deal for Glenclaren.” As she started to protest, he went on. “We may have done the work, but it was his money that made it possible. You can’t deny that, Jane.”

“I don’t deny it.” She was silent a moment and then burst out, “I just wish—why couldn’t he have stayed away? He doesn’t belong here.”

“Neither do we,” Li Sung said softly. “You know it as well as I, or you would not have sought work away from here. I’ve seen your restlessness growing for the last year. How long must we stay here?”

“As long as Ian needs us.”

Li Sung shook his head. “You and I have given him the Glenclaren he wants, and Margaret provides him with all else.”

She watched him awkwardly mount his horse and turn it toward the castle. “Li Sung!”

He glanced back at her.

“Are you truly unhappy here?”

He shook his head. “One place is as good as another to me. Perhaps I, too, am a little restless now that there are no longer any challenges to overcome.” He kicked his horse into a trot.

She hugged the green and black tartan shawl closer as she started up the hill. The sun was almost down and the autumn wind cold as it touched her cheeks. She moved quickly, almost running up the rough dirt path. She should really go back to the cottage and fix her evening meal and go to bed but found the prospect unappealing. Though she had been up at dawn and spent the entire day supervising the work at the mill until Margaret’s summons had taken her to the castle, she was not tired. Of late she had noticed any weariness she experienced came from sheer monotony. The events of yesterday and today and tomorrow all blended into stultifying sameness.

No, not tomorrow. Tomorrow Ruel would come.

She would not think of Ruel. She would think of the work still to be done at Glenclaren and Li Sung’s words. In spite of his denial, she sensed the same discontent in him she had been feeling of late. She had no right to chain Li Sung here because of her own sense of obligation. Yet where could she and Li Sung go if they left Glenclaren? Railroads were the only life they knew, and it had been made bitterly clear no one would hire a cripple and a woman. She would have to consider the possibilities and—

“I see you’ve taken to wearing the MacClaren tartan.”

She froze with shock.

Ruel continued mockingly. “It’s too much a contrast with that red mane. It’s not what I’d dress you in at all.”

She turned slowly to see Ruel walking up the path toward her. He was the same. No trace of the vulnerability for which she had prayed as she had looked down at Annie’s cottage. Except for looking tougher, leaner, he had not changed.

God in heaven, what was wrong with her? She felt as if she were going to faint. She couldn’t breathe. She felt as chained as she had that day she had left Kasanpore— chained, desperate, sad, and other emotions too chaotic to define. She took a deep breath, trying to steady the rapid pounding of her heart. “You weren’t supposed to be here until tomorrow.”

“It’s never wise to do the expected. It allows one’s enemies to prepare themselves.”

“You have no enemies here.”

“Don’t I?” He drew even with her on the path. “Then why has the thought of you tormented me more than any enemy I’ve ever had?” He smiled at her. “Did you think about me too?”

“No, I didn’t
think of you at all,” she lied. “I’ve been far too busy.”

The wind lifted his hair away from his forehead, revealing the stark beauty of his features. She found herself staring at him with the same fascination she had felt the first time she had seen him.

“So Maggie wrote me.” He looked down at the mill in the valley below. “The repairs on the castle, the dairy, the new mill. Ian must be very happy.”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Not entirely.” His gaze shifted to her face, and she received the shocking impact of those searing blue eyes. “I also wanted you to suffer, and instead you’ve taken the easy way.”

“Easy?” she asked, stung. “I’ve worked very hard.”

“But it’s the kind of work that fulfills you, that you’d be unhappy doing without.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but Margaret prefers to care for Ian’s personal needs.”

“I should have expected you to escape, I suppose.” He smiled. “But now that I’m here, I can rectify that mistake.”

She stared at him incredulously. “You can do nothing to me. I told you it was my choice to come here and it will be my choice if I leave.”

“And you’ve been thinking of leaving Glenclaren, haven’t you?” he asked softly. “I’ve been expecting that for quite a while. Three years is a long time.”

“I suppose Margaret mentioned that I’ve been seeking work with a few of the local railroads.”

“No, she spoke only of Glenclaren, but I knew you’d grow restless.”

Yes, the mandarin had always known her thoughts, she realized in despair.

He nodded as he read them now. “Aye, I know you. I thought I knew you before, but no one knows you as well as I do now. I didn’t want to think about you, but you were there” His lips tightened. “I’d lie down to sleep after breaking my back on the mountain and there you were. At first I was angry, but after a while I grew accustomed to you intruding. You became part of my life. You became part of me.”

She shivered. “You hate me.”

“I don’t know what I feel for you any longer. I know only that I have to rid myself of you.” He paused. “And I can’t do that until I know you’ve been punished for what you did to Ian.”