"You've visited too many places. It's time you came home and put down roots." He paused. "Father's dead."

"I know. I got your letter."

"You didn't answer it."

"There was no point. He had stopped being important to me years ago." He added, "So had Glenclaren."

"And me?"

"You were Glenclaren."

"I cannot deny that." Ian smiled. "I love every pond, stone, and moth-eaten tapestry of the old place."

"Then go back there."

Ian shook his head. "Not without you." He looked down at the floor, and the next words came awkwardly. "It was not because I did not have love for you that I didn't come after you while Father was alive. I knew he was wrong and treated you badly. It just seemed . . . difficult. I have always regretted that—"

"Guilt?" Ruel shook his head. "For God's sake, I knew you always walked a fine line between the two of us. I didn't expect anything of you."

"I expected it of myself."

For an instant Ruel felt a rush of warmth as he looked at Ian. Affection? God, he had thought those gentler feelings had been burned out of him years before. Affection was dangerous, and it was far safer to skate on the surface of emotion than plunge into that quagmire. He said deliberately, "But then, you always were a fool."

"Aye." Ian smiled gently. "But foolishness or not, I mean to give you back your place at Glenclaren."

Ruel stared at Ian with exasperation mixed with helplessness. Ian had always felt guilty about their father's treatment of Ruel, and now it seemed he was determined to put things right. Ruel was too familiar with his brother's dogged obstinacy not to realize Ian, once set on a course, would not give up. "Why should I go back? There's nothing I want there." He could see no softening in the resolution hardening Ian's features, and for the first time realized Ian might actually become a problem. Christ, he had a hell of a lot to do in the next few months, and he didn't need Ian plodding behind him, trying to lure him away from his goal. "Dammit, I don't want you here."

"Unfortunate."

"You'll get in my way."

"Only until we board the ship. I'll leave you alone once we're on our way home."

"I'm not going to Glenclaren. When I'm well enough to travel I'm going to Kasanpore."

"Not to this Cinnidar?"

"Let's say Kasanpore is a way station on the way to Cinnidar."

Ian frowned. "I don't believe I've ever heard of this Kasanpore."

"India. The city of Kasanpore is the primary residence of the province ruled by the Maharajah of Savitsar."

Ian shook his head. "You'll be much better off at Glenclaren than traipsing off to another heathen country."

"I'm going to Kasanpore," Ruel said through his teeth.

Ian gazed at him for a moment before sighing in resignation. "You have sufficient funds for this journey?"

"The claim produced exceptionally well for over three months. After I give a small nest egg to Mila, I'll still have enough for my purposes."

"Good, then you can afford my company. Unfortunately, Glenclaren is still as land-rich and pound-poor as it was when you were there. I'll go with you and wait until you tire of this foolishness."

"And if I don't?"

"I'll wait some more."

"Ian, dammit, I have something important to do in Kasanpore. I don't have time to—"

"God will provide the time," Ian said tranquilly as he stood up and moved toward the stove. "But you can tell me all about your business in Kasanpore later. I'll get you a bowl of stew and you must stop this arguing and eat. As I said, you'll need your strength for the journey."

Kasanpore, India

May 6, 1876

"A good evening to you, Miss Barnaby. Has no one told you that foreign ladies should not be in this section of town after dark without protection?"

The tone was low, smooth, but an underlying menace darkened the words. Jane's heart lurched and then sped to breakneck pace as she glanced over her shoulder. Only a few yards behind her she saw Prince Abdar and the beautiful young man, Pachtal, who had accompanied him when he had come to question her at the site. Dear God, she had thought she was being so careful, and yet tonight she hadn't even realized she was being followed!

She responded instinctively, breaking into a run, flying down the dark, deserted street.

It was too late. They'd been too close. Before she reached the corner, a powerful hand gripped her shoulder and spun her around.

Abdar stood before her. His handsome young companion moved behind her and grabbed her arms, forcing her to drop the knapsack she carried as he pulled both her arms up behind her.

"It's not courteous to run away when I wish to speak to you," Abdar said as he set the lantern he carried down on the ground. "I think we must chastise her for that discourtesy, Pachtal."

Jane bit her lower lip to keep back a scream of agony as Pachtal lifted her left arm and twisted it. Prince Abdar's smooth, childlike face framed beneath the white turban swam through the tears stinging her eyes.

"You were most uncommunicative when we had our little discussion a few days ago. I thought it best we have a more private interview. Now, where is Kartauk?"

"I don't know any Kar—" She broke off as her arm was thrust still higher.

"You can see Pachtal is growing impatient," Abdar said softly. "He prefers the joys of the palace and was not at all amused to spend these last three evenings trying to follow you. Particularly when his efforts proved of no avail."

She tried desperately to think of a way to reach the dagger sheathed in her boot. "Which should have proved to him I can't give you what you wish."

"It proved only that you know our bazaar quite well for a foreigner and can be very elusive. Where is he?"

"I don't know. I told you—" She gasped as Pachtal thrust her arm higher, at the same, time giving it a sharp twist that sent another bolt of agony through her. The flame of the lantern in Abdar's hand seemed to waver and dim. Why, she was going to faint, she realized with a dim sense of outrage. No! She had never fainted in her life, and this bastard would not be the one to make her start.

"Again," Abdar ordered the man behind her.

For a long moment, Jane's whole world was pain.

"Why are you so stubborn?" Abdar asked. "You will tell me anyway. You are only a woman and too weak and stupid to resist for long."

Even through the haze of anguish she felt a vague sense of resentment at his words. Though she had been stupid not to realize she had been followed from the bungalow, she was not weak.

"Why suffer like this? What is Kartauk to you?" Pachtal whispered in her ear as his grip tightened on her forearms. "You've gotten what you want from him. Now give him back to His Highness."

"I don't know any Kartauk."

"Is he your lover?" Pachtal whispered. "His Highness believes he must give you great pleasure for you to risk so much. But you will have to give him up. His Highness has need of him."

Abdar's well-shaped hand reached out and cupped her breast through her cotton shirt. "You are not uncomely and will find another man to please you. I would not even be averse to letting you come to my couch."

She wondered what he would do if she spat in his blank, childlike face.