The Tiger's Lady (68 page)

“Memsab!
Please to be coming most quick,
memsab!”

The door shook, then crashed open a second later.

White sarong awry, his brown face creased in harsh lines, Nihal stood in the doorway, with Hadley just behind him. “Bad it is, this time, Miss Barrett. Oh, so very awful bad! The master—Tiger—he’s—they’ve taken him.”

Barrett swayed, white-faced, then grabbed at a chair back for support.
“Taken?
”

Nihal’s face was taut with worry. “They—they caught him outside the drying shed. It was a well-prepared group, all with rifles.”

Hadley muttered darkly, then turned. “I must go.”

Barrett’s heart began to thunder.
Oh, Pagan, be careful, my heart. Be very, very careful.

And then her mind began to calculate, estimating portions and strengths. It would be very dangerous, of course. It might even be
impossible,
unless Mita could find the right ingredients.

But she had to try.

When Hadley returned, he gave Barrett only a glance before pouring himself a drink and wiping the sweat from his brow.

His face was grim when he turned. “I think you’d better sit down, my dear.”

Barrett gripped the table. “What is it? But he isn’t—you haven’t found his body, have you?”

“No. But I found this. It was left down by the path to the lower fields, where he was taken.” He held out a sheet of paper to her.

Barrett seized it and scanned it eagerly. Her horror grew with every word.

Here, my dear Barrett, is your lover’s little finger. I shall cut off another finger every hour that you delay in bringing me the ruby. I shall be watching for you at the great waterfall near the upper tea fields. Do not delay. For when his fingers are all gone—assuming he is still alive, of course—I shall cut off his—”

Barrett swayed, the final savage threat blurring before her eyes. She threw down the note, white-faced, and turned to the colonel. “What are we to do?”

He crossed the room and gave her shoulders a quick, brief squeeze. “Do? Why we’re going to rescue him, of course! And we’ll do it by finding that bloody stone.”

“So you
do
know where it is?”

Hadley’s eyes hardened. “I’m afraid not. But Ruxley believes it is here, so it probably is. Which means we’d better get to work.”

“No, you go on. Mita and I will look about some more. Dear Lord, there is so little time…”

Both were silent, thinking of the note’s last, savage threat.

Hadley hesitated, then nodded grimly. “Very well. I’ll take ten men and wait by the waterfall. If Ruxley sends anyone near, anyone at all, I’ll corner the bastard. And then I’ll find out everything he knows, even if I have to cut him up very slowly to do it.” His keen eyes searched Barrett’s face. “Will you be all right?”

“Yes, just—just go.”

His face grim, Hadley wrenched down a rifle from the gun case and did just that.

Barrett and Mita started in Pagan’s bedroom, then progressed to the rest of the house. They ripped open quilts, overturned drawers, and even slit the beautiful old damask wing chairs.

But they found nothing. There was no trace of the ruby.

With every minute, Barrett knew Pagan’s time was running out. Wildly she swept fire-charred books from the study’s blackened shelves, hoping that one of them might have a false interior.

But they crumbled in her fingers, burned paper and nothing more.

When Magic skittered up beside her, chattering curiously, Barrett barely noticed.

Down the hall the little ormolu clock in the foyer began to chime.

The deadline had come.

The leather box arrived fifteen minutes later. Nihal found it on the porch and instantly carried it in to Barrett, who stared at it, white-faced. It looked like a jewelry case, made of good old leather embossed with gold lettering and a pseudo-heraldic crest Ruxley had designed for himself.

As if locked in a nightmare, Barrett slid open the top. A moment later she gasped and the box fell to the floor with a dull crack. Tears squeezed from her eyes as she thought of the bloody mass of bone and tissue inside, carefully wrapped in white silk.

Ruxley had carried out his first threat.

Mita ran in, saw the box on the table, and gave a sharp cry. “Is it—have they—”

Barrett nodded blindly, tears rushing down her cheeks. “Is there no sign of Colonel Hadley?”

“None. And soon the Tiger will…”

“No, Mita! We can’t let that happen!” Barrett scrubbed furiously at her tears. “Do you have a storeroom somewhere? A place where Pagan keeps his chemicals and tools?”

Mita nodded. “But why is the
memsahib—”

“Never mind. Just take me to it.” Already Barrett was pulling Mita toward the door. “Quickly, Mita! We must hurry!”

Neither noticed the small, furry figure that followed them down the corridor.

“Is it three parts fulminate of mercury or four?”

Mumbling, Barrett surveyed the huge stone workroom lined with tools, jars, knives, bellows, and every other implement required in running a huge estate such as Windhaven. She scanned the shelves, which were full of neatly labeled bottles of chemicals.

Thankfully Pagan kept the place well stocked. But the process was dangerous enough even when the proportions were right. And with even one element wrong…

A shudder worked through her. No matter, she would get them right.

She
had
to.

For his life depended on it.

Long minutes later, Barrett sat back, exhausted but triumphant. It was right, she was certain of it! Thankfully, Pagan had a superior workroom and all the equipment necessary to carry out his many experiments. She’d found the nitrate of potash, gunpowder, and glycerol.

Now all they needed was a plan.

“What is the
memsab
doing? The master will be dead soon if we do not hurry!”

“Never fear, Mita. I’m nearly finished.” Carefully Barrett wedged a cork into a glass bottle filled with the results of her work and moved carefully to the door. “Whatever you do, see that I don’t trip.” Seeing Magic rocking back and forth at her feet, Barrett smiled, feeling for the first time that they had a slim reason for hope. “That goes for you, too, Magic.”

Then her humor fled. Both women froze as they heard Nihal’s shrill cry. Another hour had passed.

Precisely on time, the next box arrived. Inside was only a bloodstained piece of paper.

I am vastly disappointed in you, my dear Brett. I thought you
loved
him. He is losing a great deal of blood now, as you can see. Such a pity.

Ah well, the next time I’m afraid I shall have to take off two fingers.

Barrett swayed, her fingers pressed to her lips. She bit down a sob as her mind leaped from possibility to possibility like a desperate animal.

It was risky to use the formula. There were so many factors, so many variables that her grandfather had not yet been able to isolate. But there was no time for tests now.

She stood swiftly, her eyes hard. First she would somehow have to convince Ruxley that she’d found the ruby. Only that would guarantee her the time she needed to get Pagan out before…