Veils of Silk (26 page)

The bedroom door opened and Laura turned to see Ian enter. Her eyes widened. "Oh, my," she breathed. "There's something about a man in uniform."

Ian smiled a little at her expression. "Does a uniform make that much difference on a scarecrow?"

"You look," she said honestly, "absolutely magnificent."

Though Ian was no longer an officer, David had convinced him that full-dress uniform should be worn for a regimental ball in his honor. It was also the easiest choice, since all of Ian's possessions had been given to David after his presumed death. Not having any other formal evening wear, Ian had agreed to the uniform, though without enthusiasm.

Laura was glad that he had, for in his scarlet-coated, black-faced and gold-laced regimentals, Ian was a sight to turn any woman's head. She guessed that the derzi
had taken in the seams, because the coat did an impeccable job of displaying her
husband's broad shoulders and narrow waist. He was still too thin, but in a
splendidly lean and pantherish way, and his eyepatch added exactly the right dashing accent.

"You look rather magnificent yourself," he said, his expression warm with admiration. He handed her a velvet-covered jewelry box. "This is for you, since I didn't give you a wedding present. You might want to wear these tonight."

No woman was immune to the allure of jewels, and Laura opened the box eagerly. Then her mouth dropped open and once more she said feebly, "Oh, my."

Resting on the white silk lining was a gorgeous sapphire necklace and matching earrings.

"You said you were wearing blue, so I thought these stones would go well. Allow me?" Ian lifted the necklace and fastened it around her throat. "Someday I'll give you topazes, to match your eyes."

Laura turned to look at herself in the mirror, then inhaled sharply. The gems shimmered with blue fire, fit for a princess. For a moment she saw not herself but Tatyana, garbed in silk and sapphires for an imperial ball. The memory sent goosefeet running down Laura's spine. She swallowed hard. "I don't think I ever realized quite how much I resemble my mother."

Ian rested his hands lightly on her shoulders. "If so, she was a very beautiful woman."

"She was, though I don't look
that
much like her." Laura turned and kissed her husband. "Thank you, Ian. This is the most splendid gift I've ever received." She replaced her simple gold earbobs with the sapphire earrings, which dangled halfway to her shoulders and flashed with cool light at every movement of her head. "Now I can outface any catty female in India."

He smiled and offered his arm. Together they went into the sitting room, where David waited. He also looked remarkably handsome in uniform, though not quite as impressive as Ian. Give him a few more years and a few more lines in his face, and perhaps he could come close to matching his older brother.

David's eyes widened when he saw his sister-in-law. "Good heavens, Laura, you are absolutely stunning."

She blushed a little, because her ability to sense male desire confirmed just how sincere his admiration was. But David's regard didn't worry her, for he was the sort of man for whom it would be literally unthinkable to make an improper advance to his brother's wife.

In fact, Laura realized with rising delight, at tonight's ball she could be gay and giddy without worrying about the consequences. With Ian as her husband, she was safe from the unwanted attentions of other men for the first time in her life.

She took David's arm with her free hand. "Shall we go? With two such handsome escorts, I'll be the most envied woman in Cambay. And I'm going to have a
wonderful
time tonight."

As they left, Ian wished dourly that he was equally sure of how the evening would go.

The Cambay Club had originally been founded as a center for sporting activities, but over time it had become the focus of social activity for the entire British community. It occupied a lofty two-story building surrounded by gardens, with one whole wing given over to a ballroom. Waltz music wafted through the warm night air as they went up the front steps to the veranda.

As they entered the club, David said, "Ian, you'll be swamped with people all night. Shall I take Laura in charge? I can perform introductions, fend off lovestruck subalterns, procure refreshments, and generally look out for her."

Ian glanced at his wife. "If you don't mind, Laura, that would simplify matters. I don't want to neglect you, but I do have two years of social obligations to take care of tonight."

"Fine," Laura said agreeably. "David will take good care of me." She stood on her toes and gave her husband a quick kiss. Under her breath, she said, "This will soon be over,
doushenka
. Meanwhile, try to enjoy the occasion. You have a lot of friends who care a great deal about you."

There was strain in his face, but he managed a wry smile. "You see too much, Larishka."

She chuckled at hearing one of the pet names that Russians were so fond of using. Then they entered the ballroom and there was no more time for private conversation. Brilliant with lamps and tropical flowers, the ballroom was said to be the grandest in northern India. The company was equally grand, with women decked in colorful evening gowns and men in equally colorful uniforms from all of the regiments stationed at Cambay.

As guests of honor, Ian and Laura were immediately surrounded. For a while there was an informal receiving line, with people greeting Ian and then being presented to Laura. It was a blur of names and faces, except for Blanche Baskin, who wore a gown so low that she risked pneumonia even in India. After brushing aside Laura's thanks for the loan of Premula, she floated away in the company of three men.

During the rush, David stood beside Laura and told her what she should know about the people she was meeting. When the press finally thinned, he said, "Care to dance? A waltz will seem restful by comparison."

Laura accepted her brother-in-law's offer with pleasure.

"I hope I also have the chance to dance with Ian tonight. Do you know, he and I have never danced together?"

As they stepped onto the floor, David said, "The disadvantage of a whirlwind courtship. However, I'm sure the lack will be remedied tonight."

Laura's dancing was no more than adequate, but David turned out to be excellent. As they whirled across the floor, he said, "I want to thank you, Laura."

"For what?" she said, puzzled.

"For marrying Ian. When he first returned, he seemed on the edge of a breakdown. I was worried about him." David's pensive gaze went across the room to where his older brother stood in the center of a knot of people. "But he seems like a different man now. While he still has some way to go, I know that he'll be all right. I suspect that much of the credit should go to you."

"Some, perhaps," Laura said. "But Ian has been as good for me as I have been for him. When we met, my stepfather had just died and I was in dire need of a shoulder to cry on."

David smiled. "Isn't that what marriage is supposed to be—two people caring about and helping each other?"

"I don't know yet," she confessed. "I've only been married a fortnight. When I can speak with authority, I'll let you know."

David chuckled and spun her into one last flourish as the music ended. Again Laura sensed strong feeling emanating from her brother-in-law. He really did find her attractive— and the feeling was mutual—but what mattered was that he had accepted her into the family without question. If the rest of the Camerons were even half as nice, she would have no problems.

The waltz over, David said, "I see at least six men coming this way to plead for dances. There are never enough women here, much less attractive ones, so if you wish, you'll be able to dance holes into your slippers."

She glanced up at him with a laugh. "Then introduce me first to the ones who are least likely to step on my toes."

David did exactly as requested. As Laura smiled and stepped into the next dance with a cavalry captain, she knew that she had been correct in thinking that she would have a splendid time this evening. She hoped Ian was doing as well.

* * *

After half a dozen dances, Laura excused herself to go to the ladies'
retiring room so she could catch her breath. The luxurious chamber had a large
mirror which revealed that her hair was living a wild, free life of its own, and
that her gown was even more daring than she had thought. It was too late to do
anything about her decolletage, but she tidied her hair, then sponged her face with cool water. After drying it with a lavender-scented towel, Laura subsided onto a wicker sofa and began wielding her lace fan. For the moment the lounge was empty of guests, and she reveled in the quiet.

The door opened and she glanced up to see a petite blond girl enter. The newcomer was stunning, with bright golden hair and porcelain features that perfectly fulfilled the fashionable ideal of beauty.

The girl halted and placed one hand on the back of a chair, her fingertips biting into the wicker. "I'm Mrs. Gerald Phelps," she said in a faltering voice. "I know that we haven't been introduced, Lady Falkirk, but I must talk with you."

Laura noted that the girl was pregnant, and from her pallor, she seemed on the verge of fainting. Concerned, Laura said, "Are you feeling unwell? Should I call someone?"

The blond girl perched nervously on the edge of the chair and delved into her reticule. "I'm well enough. I want to speak because I… I have something
I
must give you."

"Oh, dear." Laura's hands flew up to check her sapphire earrings. "Have I been shedding bits and pieces?"

"This has nothing to do with tonight. You see, before my marriage I was Georgina Whitman." She said the name as if it was all the explanation required. Finding what she wanted in her reticule, she handed the small object to Laura.

Laura blinked with surprise when she found herself holding a very handsome diamond ring.

Speaking quickly, Georgina said, "I know I should have given the ring directly to Ian, but the one time I saw him after he came back, I was too stunned to think of it. Then he was gone, and since he returned to Cambay, there has been no opportunity. I suppose I could have contrived one, but it would have been… awkward. Even more awkward than speaking to you." Her fingers twined together. "After Ian was reported dead, I tried to give the ring to David, but he was sure that Ian would have wanted me to keep it, so I did. But of course Ian's survival changed everything, so the ring must be returned."

Numbly Laura gazed at the ring. A sizable center diamond was surrounded by a circle of tiny brilliants. It was most impressive; India was known for fine gems, like the sapphires around Laura's own throat. She raised her gaze to Georgina. So Ian had wanted to marry this golden creature, who came from his world, was lovelier than Laura would ever be, and had enough honor to do something she found very difficult.

Laura would have preferred to be able to hate Georgina, but she couldn't. In a handful of words the younger woman had sketched a betrothal, Ian's presumed death, another marriage, and, by implication, a hideous shock when Ian had returned from the grave. Hardly surprising that the girl was distressed.

Obviously Georgina assumed that Laura knew about the broken engagement, and Laura would rather have her nails torn out with red-hot pincers than admit her ignorance. Trying to keep her voice even, she said, "That's very generous of you, Mrs. Phelps, but are you sure you don't want to keep the ring? Given the unusual circumstances, Ian didn't expect you to return it."

"Oh, no, no, I couldn't possibly keep it. My husband…" Georgina stopped and swallowed hard.

"Ian's return must have been very upsetting for you," Laura said sympathetically. She glanced at Georgina's waistline. "I hope your health hasn't been affected?"

Georgina put her hand on her stomach. "Oh, my health is fine, or at least, normal for a woman in my condition. The only problem is… the shock… since Ian came back we haven't… my husband won't… I don't know how…" Her agonized words came to a complete halt, and she flushed and looked away.

Yes, Ian's return had caused trouble. Laura felt reluctant compassion for the girl. On the other hand, she wanted to murder Ian. Slowly.

Part of her wanted to pitch the ring out the nearest window, but it was too valuable for such cavalier treatment, so for safety's sake Laura unwillingly slipped it on her right hand. "I'm sure that things will sort themselves out in time, Mrs. Phelps," she said gently. Her speech was interrupted when several women entered the lounge, which was fortunate because Laura had no idea what to say next. Getting to her feet, she bid a polite farewell to Georgina, whose color was better now that she had discharged her duty.

But Georgina's peace of mind had come at Laura's expense. As Laura returned to the ball, she wondered with deep, smoldering fury how many other surprises her husband had in store for her.

A bright-eyed young subaltern said, "Sir, do you think we'll be sending troops to Central Asia soon? We need to secure Bokhara and the other khanates before the Russians do."

Ian sighed. Another fire-breathing disciple of the "forward" policy, which preached that continuous expansion was necessary to protect existing British territories. "I have no idea what the government's policy is, but having been to Central Asia I can testify that the mountains and deserts make the khanates almost impossible to invade. The Russians have mounted several expeditions under conditions more favorable than we can manage, and they've met disaster every time."

"But now that Afghanistan is under our control," the subaltern replied, respectful but undeterred, "we have a perfect base for launching operations deeper into Asia."

"Afghanistan is not under British control," Ian said dryly. "Replacing a capable, popular ruler like Dost Mohammed with a weak, despised puppet of our own was one of the stupidest things the British government ever did. If we didn't have several regiments in Kabul to back him up, Shah Shuja would be off the throne in a fortnight. In fact, the Afghanis might revolt and attack our garrison at any time. They don't like our heavy-handed brand of statesmanship, and I can't say as I blame them."