A Love That Never Tires (21 page)

Linley’s father looked at his watch—they still had an hour and fifteen minutes before they would be on their way to Guahati. “What a disaster!”

“It’s not a disaster,” Linley said. “Like Archie told you, at least the Howards packed us a hamper. You would be much more miserable if you had an empty stomach.”

“Yes, well, I believe you are right about that, Button,” he said. “Why don’t we step away from the crowd and the flies, and have our picnic under the shade?”

Linley’s own stomach grumbled, but suddenly food was the last thing on her mind. She stood transfixed as she watched the passengers from the second train step out to stretch their legs. A gentleman dressed in white linen stood on the top step of the passenger car, waiting for the woman in front of him to disembark. His face was hidden by a straw Panama hat—a hat that reminded her of the one Patrick wore in Morocco.

The man stepped down onto the platform. He paused for a minute to look around, squinting in the glare of sunlight. Linley braced her hands against the back of the wooden bench. In her heart, she knew it was Patrick. If only he would do something to prove it! She started to call his name, but she didn’t have to—at that moment, he slid the hat from his head and ran his hands through his damp brown hair.

“Patrick!” Linley nearly jumped over the bench as she ran toward him.

He looked up, shocked at first, but then he grinned and held out his arms.

Linley folded into him, wrapping herself around his neck. “Patrick!”

“So you haven’t forgotten about me,” he said, still a little in shock at the surprise of seeing her here—completely by chance—in the middle of nowhere.

“I could never!” She hugged him tighter and leaned up to kiss his cheek. “What are you doing here? How did you know where to find me?”

Patrick smiled down at her. “I didn’t know where to find you, but I took a chance,” he said. “If you weren’t going to stay in London with me, I decided I might as well go to India with you.”

Linley took his hand and led him over to where her father and their team sat, mouths agape.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Archie said.

“Look who’s here, Papa,” Linley said. “It’s Lord Kyre!”

Sir Bedford braced his own hands against the back of the worn wooden bench. “I can see that,” he said. “But
why
is he here?”

“He came to find us,” Linley explained, grinning from ear to ear. “Isn’t that wonderful of him?” A tense silence grew between the team as she waited for an answer. Of course it was wonderful of Patrick to come all the way to India on a whim, couldn’t they see that?

Archie, Reginald, and Schoville turned in their seats to see the look on Sir Bedford’s face. Something had to be done about this, and the sooner the better as far as they were concerned.

“We…” Linley’s father paused to clear his throat. “We were about to have luncheon…would you care to join us?”

Patrick smiled and nodded. At least the man didn’t try to bash his face in—which it looked like he might do there for a moment.

They walked out from under the shade of the lean-to and stepped onto the hard, dry dirt. Little clouds of orange dust mingled around their feet with each step as they found a cool, quiet spot to sit.

“We made some friends yesterday,” Linley told Patrick as they sat down. “They were kind enough to invite us to spend the night in their home, and they gave us luncheon to take on the train.”

She passed around the basket of sandwiches. Patrick took one and unwrapped it. He started to tell her how lucky she was to have found such thoughtful people, but Archie and Reginald’s grumbling stopped him.

“…You cannot possibly be serious…” Reginald whispered to Linley’s father.

“Bedford, this has gotten out of hand,” Archie added.

Linley’s father said nothing, and only waved them off.

Patrick tried not to listen to their conversation and turned his focus back to Linley. “My train is going to somewhere called Tinsukia…”

“Tinsukia!” Linley cried, nearly dropping her cucumber sandwich. “You can’t go to Tinsukia. We are going to Guahati!”

“Is there a difference?”

“A big difference,” Linley said. “We’ll have to figure out a way to get you onto our train. You certainly are lucky we ran into one another!”

Patrick smiled. “I took the first train to Assam on the advice of a blind man,” he explained. “You have
no idea
how lucky I am.”

***

Linley had a million things she wanted to talk with Patrick about, but he assured her that they would have plenty of time to do it. For the time being, however, he told her to board her own train like nothing was out of the ordinary.

“Don’t tell your father I’m switching trains,” he said before he snuck back to his own to retrieve his bags. “If nothing goes wrong, I’ll meet you in Guahati.”

After Linley and her team found their way back onto the train, Patrick jumped in line to board the last car. Hopefully, no one would notice that he hadn’t been there before. Pulling his hat down low, he slid into a dusty seat on the very last row.

The wheels of the train groaned and, inch by inch, began to lurch forward. A long blast of the whistle announced its departure as the little depot began to fade from view. Patrick shifted in his seat, gripping his ticket and the five pound note in his pocket.

The conductor made his way down the rows of seats, checking each passenger’s ticket.

As he drew closer, Patrick grew more nervous.

“Your ticket, Sahib?” the man asked.

Patrick looked up at him. It was now or never. He slipped the ticket and the fiver out of his pocket and handed it to the conductor.

The man looked confused for a moment, turning the money over in his hand. Patrick was certain he would kick him off, but the man only smiled and punched his ticket. “Thank you, Sahib,” he said, jamming the money in his trouser pocket.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Patrick took the ticket and settled back into his seat. He looked out the window as the lush green landscape flew by. India seemed to be a beautiful place, full of color and life. Tall grasslands gave way to thick jungles. Dozens of multicolored birds rested in the tops of trees, and as the train traveled further north, the flatlands rippled into rolling hills.

He could see farms dotting the land and assumed they were tea plantations. He opened his window to breathe in the earthy aroma, letting the heaviness of the air settle around him. It was not long before he found himself lulled to sleep by the rocking of the train as it sped across the countryside.

***

Linley nudged him. It had been a long walk from her car all the way to the back of the train, and she flopped down onto the seat beside him.

“Wake up,” she said, shaking him.

Patrick’s eyes shot open, and he looked over at her. For a split second, he forgot where he was, and wondered if she were another dream.

“I snuck away,” she told him. “Hopefully, no one will come looking for me.”

Patrick yawned and stretched the kinks out of his neck from sleeping crumpled up against the side of the car.

“You’d better get used to being sore,” Linley said. “No soft feather beds out here. Only hard, damp ground. That was probably the best sleep you’ll have for a long time.” She grinned at him. Truly, Linley had been so excited to see him that she never stopped to let it sink in that he was really there. Patrick came to India to see
her!
She was so happy she could cry.

“Well,” he said, noting the way her tanned skin glowed as she smiled. “Getting out of London has done you good. I see those freckles are back in order.” He tapped the end of her nose with the tip of his finger. “I was starting to miss them.”

She tilted her head playfully. “Was that all you missed?”

“You know it wasn’t,” Patrick replied. “I told you before you left that I was no good without you. I barely made it two weeks before I jumped on the first ship over.”

Linley took his hand in hers. “I’m so glad you came. I’ve thought quite a bit about everything you said to me the night before I left. Would you forgive me if I told you that I made a mistake in coming here?”

“I’ll never say that you made a mistake because I understand why you left,” he said. “Your father is very important to you, just as Georgiana is to me—”

“Oh, Georgiana!” Linley cried. “I heard she had her baby!”

Patrick chuckled, a little frightened by her enthusiasm. “Yes, she did. A boy,” he said. “She named him John, after our brother who died.”

“Oh.”

“Some said it was bad luck to name a child after another child who died, but I don’t think so.”

“No,” Linley said. “It isn’t bad luck. I’m sure your brother would be very honored.”

Patrick shrugged. Even though he was only a boy when Johnnie died, he never really liked to talk about it.
“Everyone thought I was mad for coming here,” he said, changing the subject. “It was Georgiana who encouraged me to go after you. After all these years of my parenting
her
, she turns out to be the voice of reason.”

“So they knew about me?” Linley asked. “About…us?”

“Of course.”

She frowned. “And they approved?”

“The day I left, Hereford slipped me a hundred pounds and told me I’d better not come home until I’d found you,” he explained. “I was miserable without you. Any fool could see where my heart was.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

“Absolutely not!” Sir Bedford said, taking one look at Patrick, who stood outside their rented rooms the next morning.

Linley followed her father out the door. “But, Papa! He’s come all this way!”

“I don’t care if he crawled here!” Sir Bedford said. “He has no idea what he is doing, and he will only slow us down.”

“He won’t,” she said, tugging at her father’s sleeve. “I promise!”

He glanced up at Patrick. “I’m sorry, Lord Kyre, but you will have to wait here until we return.”

“And when will that be?” Patrick asked.

“A few weeks,” Sir Bedford said. “Perhaps a month at most.”

“I’m not sitting here for a month!” Patrick replied. He struggled to find a better argument than that, and then struck upon a fantastic idea. “I—I’m an investor! I am an investor and I demand to know where my money is going.” When Linley’s father still looked to dismiss him, he continued, “If you don’t show me firsthand how the money I invested is being spent, I’ll tell everyone I know that you’re a fraud.”

Linley gasped. “Patrick!”

“You wouldn’t dare!” Sir Bedford cried.

“I would,” Patrick said in the most menacing voice he could muster. “Try me!”

Linley’s father huffed and crossed his arms. He opened his mouth to say something, but snapped it shut again. After a few shaky breaths, he finally spoke. “Fine. You may come, but you will have to make your own travel arrangements.” Then he stormed off, followed by Archie, Reginald, and Schoville.

“My father is not a fraud,” Linley said.

Patrick slipped his arms around her shoulders. “I know that.” For the first time that morning, he took a good look at her. She wore heavy boots and jodhpurs, much like the ones she wore the first day he saw her in Morocco. Yet it was such a far cry from the silk gowns he’d grown used to seeing her wear in London that Patrick had to take a step back and admire her. She was no frills and no nonsense. And she was absolutely gorgeous. “So, how do I go about making these travel arrangements your father warned me about?”

“Don’t worry. You can ride with me.” Linley took his hand and led him down a path that ran along the edge of the jungle. She pushed aside the branches of a broad, leafy banana palm to reveal another path, only this one was quite narrow, and seemed to sink back into the jungle and fade to nothing more than the morning mist.

“Down there?” Patrick asked.

“If you plan on coming with our team, you cannot be afraid of a little jungle path,” she replied, dragging him down the dirt track. “Where we are going, there are no people. And not everyone who ventures that deep into the wilderness makes it back out.”

Patrick swallowed. “You mean we could…die?”

She stopped and spun around, facing him. “If you are not up to the challenge—”

“I’m up to it,” he said. “I just wonder if you ever stop to consider the risks you are taking.”

Linley rolled her eyes at him. “If I did that, then it wouldn’t be any fun.” She turned and plodded down the path, staying a few steps ahead of him. “Besides, if I worried about all the dangers in life, I’d end up like you.”

“Just what is that supposed to mean?” he called after her.

“You said it yourself,” she said, slowing her pace to let him catch up. “You’re bored. You’re bored and you’re restless, and you need me to shake you up.” The jungle air was heavy and thick, and her chest heaved with every breath. “That is why you went to Africa, and that is why you are here.”

Patrick stopped in front of her, his chest also rising and falling as he struggled to catch his breath. “You are right that I needed you to shake me up. And you’re right that I’ve been bored, but we cannot all be ‘little Linley Talbot-Martin, thrill seeker and adventurer’,” he said. “Some of us have responsibilities.”

“Responsibilities!” Linley cried, “What responsibilities do you have? Going to parties? Driving around London in your fancy motorcar? Playing big brother to a sister who doesn’t need you?” She took a step forward, jabbing him in the chest with her finger. “You are so pompous! So pretentious!” she cried. “You think you’re important just because you inherited some stupid title and a rotten old house to go with it. Well, I’ve got news for you—”

Patrick pushed her finger away. “I sold the London house,” he spat. “I sold it after I spent a fortune fixing it up for your party.”

“
What?
”

“You heard me,” he said, jamming his fists into his trouser pockets.

“Patrick, why would you do such a thing?”

He shrugged and looked away.

Linley grabbed his face and turned it back to hers. “Why, Patrick?”

“Because I needed the money.”

She sucked in her breath. “I—I don’t know what to say…”

“There is nothing to say,” he told her. “What’s done is done.”