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‘Yes,’ she agreed, keeping her voice gruff. The tail of her turban was pulled across her nose and mouth, as if to protect her from the dust of the road and the tight long-tailed jacket flattened her breasts and covered the curves of buttocks and thighs. If she did not get too friendly with anyone she had a reasonable chance of staying undetected, she hoped.
‘That is a fine horse,’ the man continued, apparently settling down for a long chat. ‘It would not be for sale, I suppose?’
‘No, I am sorry, but it belongs to my master who sends me on this errand.’ Hoofbeats behind. Anusha twisted round as a troop of cavalry swept past, leaving the traders cursing in their wake and her heart thudding so hard that for a moment she thought she would be sick.
The dust cloud swirled in the early light and then settled, along with her pulse. ‘You must have left in haste to have no provisions for the journey,’ the trader went on. ‘If your master has not given you enough money for a pack mule, you can put your supplies in my wagon if you wish.’ He waved aside her thanks. ‘We help each other on the road, or where would we all be? At the mercy of dacoits, that is where! Barrackpore is a good place to get supplies and we will be there for the noon meal.’
He talked on, quite content, it seemed, to have no response from her beyond a nod, or a grunt of agreement. Anusha felt her head begin to droop and pulled herself upright. There would be time to sleep tonight and at least the weariness might keep her unconscious long enough to give some respite from this heartache.
Why did I have to fall in love with him? I should have known it was impossible. There was the nagging worry that her presence in the palace might be a problem for her uncle, although her father had said that Altaphur was thoroughly chastened for the moment and skulking behind his frontiers. Might he still try to kidnap her if he knew she was back? If necessary, she would marry some prince of her uncle’s choosing, Anusha vowed. Then she could not be a pawn to threaten Kalatwah or cause her father and the Company a problem.
If she could not have Nick, it really did not matter who she was with. It was strange that a breaking heart was physically painful. She had never believed that before...
‘Wake up, young friend!’ A hand on her shoulder roused her. ‘You are swaying in the saddle. And here come more riders in a hurry—what is there in the air today that everyone must rush and cover innocent travellers in dust?’
Disorientated, she reacted slowly and the riders were in amongst them before she could gather her wits.
‘Sahib, there is Rajat!’ Ajit.
She wrenched the reins, turned towards the fields and the tangle of jungle beyond, but Rajat was reluctant, neighing for his stable mate, as Pavan, his rider tall in the saddle, swept through the ox carts and horses towards her.
‘Anusha!’
Hemmed in by a camel behind, she turned at bay. How has he found me so fast? What can I do now?
‘Leave this young man alone! He travels with our protection,’ the burly Bengali trader shouted and forced his horse, with courage she could appreciate despite her anguish, between Pavan and Anusha’s mount.
‘If you think this is a young man, my friend, you have need of spectacles,’ Nick said without looking at the man. ‘Anusha, why did you leave?’
‘You are a woman and this is your sweetheart?’ the Bengali demanded, looking from one to the other, amazement on his round, honest face.
‘Yes,’ she said. Nick was looking implacable—she did not trust him not to use force if her protector persisted and the poor man did not deserve that. ‘Please do not agitate yourself. We had a...disagreement. I will go aside with him and discuss it.’
‘Do you want us to wait?’ The other traders had begun to gather around them, hands were resting on knife hilts.
‘No. I thank you for your help.’ It was hopeless: Nick would never allow her to leave. She would just have to convince him with words that they could not marry. ‘Goodbye, my friends. Travel safely and with profit.’ She turned Rajit’s head and fell in between Nick and Ajit, who was mounted, she saw, on her father’s favourite hunter.
‘You should have let me go,’ she said. Nick looked dreadful: his chin was stubbled, his eyes were bloodshot and his brow was furrowed as though he had a crashing headache. I thought I would never see you again.
‘I will ride ahead, sahib,’ Ajit said and spurred towards the road.
‘Go back to Calcutta,’ Nick called. ‘Tell Laurens sahib that she is safe.’
