Tiger Sky, page 12
'It seems all right,' she said unsteadily. 'Suitable, I mean.'
'Yeah, suitable.' The response was heavy with sarcasm. 'One look, and they'll figure the bridegroom must have robbed a bank.'
Confused by her feelings and stung by this mordant comment, Selina snapped back: 'Will it do, or not?' She forced herself to meet his eyes.
There was a glitter, hard and inimical, between his eyelids, reflected in points of light from one of the lanterns. She caught her breath, pressing her lips together because she wanted to cry out: 'Why
are you angry? Why?' It had sprung up so rapidly, this tension between them, that her mind reeled for a second and her heart started to race.
`Will it do?' she repeated at last, staring at him defiantly.
Their glances held each other at bay a moment longer, then clung with a passionate intensity that drove all coherent thought out of her head. She put out a questing hand, laid it against his chest without knowing what she was about. Luke's compelling gaze moved slowly down to the soft, vulnerable curves of her mouth, and she shut her eyes, taking a shallow breath and waiting ... waiting....
For what?—consternation swept over her as Luke's harsh voice jarred her back to her senses. 'Who gave you this expensive bauble?' he demanded cynically, lifting her hand by the ring finger and holding it away from his chest with insulting emphasis:
'Oh-h-h ... the ring?' It was an effort to think about that now. 'My father. Well—I mean, it's been in the family a long time—I mean, it belonged to my mother and when I was old enough Father gave-it to me.'
'Make up your mind,' he said curtly. Then, 'I guess it'll do.' He dropped her hand with a shrug and went into the tent to change his clothes.
Selina drooped on to the box-seat again. Her heart had slowed down, leaving her with a bleak, empty feeling. She thrust her hand into her pocket and clenched her fingers until the gold band dug into her flesh. Luke, who could be so kind, could also be deliberately cold and brutal. What on earth did it matter who gave her the ring? Did he think
Henry Spender had been lavishing extravagant gifts on her? Worse still, did he believe she would
accept that sort of gift?—that she was one of those vulgar, odiously acquisitive harpies who conned men out of jewellery for favours they had no intention of giving?
It had been implicit in Luke's offensive manner; and coming, as it had, on top of an uncontrollable wave of emotion, made her cheeks burn with mortification. Twice Luke had repelled and affronted her like this. Twice in recent days, and she was too downcast to consider why or fight back.
The newcomers' camp was about a quarter of a mile up-river. There was no moonlight yet within the walls of the gorge and Kunwar Singh led the way with a lantern, Selina walking between Luke and Narayan along the rather narrow uneven track behind him, and Patch snuffling close at their heels. From the quiet dialogue of her companions Selina, silent and aloof, learned that the other group consisted of a British married couple, an Indian zoologist and his Danish wife and an Australian photographer. The zoologist and photographer were apparently working on a project for the World Wildlife Fund.
Quite an international gathering, Selina noted wryly, bracing herself not only to be sociable but to act out this bogus whirlwind romance Luke and Narayan had dreamed up. She was not in the mood for either after Luke's perplexingly boorish behaviour. As the lights and glowing camp fire drew nearer and figures could be seen moving on the little shelf of open ground under the cliff, her stomach contracted nervously. She had no idea what
Luke would expect of her. She would leave it to him to make the first move in this distasteful charade.
They had to climb a bank of scree up to the camp. People were coming hospitably towards them. Selina's foot slipped on the loose stones and the next instant Luke's arm was clamped round her, drawing her up and holding her tautly against him. He turned her into his shoulder and she could feel the heat of his body through the bush shirt under her cheek. He lowered his head to hers, brushing his jawline over her brow, cradling her more gently until the stiffness drained out of her and she gave in completely, all the hurt and constraint washed away in blissful relief.
'Selly?' He tilted her face. 'All right now?' he murmured, and she knew he was not referring to her clumsy mishap on the scree. She nodded mutely because of the lump in her throat, and touched the hand under her chin with tentative fingers. Luke stroked his rough palm over her cheek, then half led, half carried her into the camp. This bit of unintentional by-play had not been lost on the friendly group awaiting them, to judge by their smiles, and even if Luke had shrewdly used their reconciliation for an appropriate display of devotion, she was too happy and relieved to care.
Luke introduced her merely as 'my wife', and as she shook hands and tried to take in the names of the others she realised that it would have been imprudent to introduce her as Selina, or Selly. There was no knowing where these people were going or who they might contact, and the casual mention of her name elsewhere might ring a bell and give the game away. Nevertheless, the formal `Dr Lucas van
Meer and Mrs van Meer' sounded strange.
The stout little Englishwoman organised them around the campfire. 'Not enough camp chairs. Don't as a rule run into other trekkers, you know, not so early in the year.' She was plain and practical, from her square-cut greying hair to her thick ribbed stockings and brogues. 'You sit here, Mrs van Meer. I'll manage with a cushion. Used to this sort of life, you know.'
Selina had started to protest when Luke cut short the polite argument by sitting down with his back against a stores box and pulling Selina into the crook of his arm down on the disputed cushion, settling her beside him. Taken aback, she sat rigidly for a moment or two while a gust of jocularity about newlyweds brought a hot flow of colour to her face. But the humour was kindly and the atmosphere free and easy, and she surrendered, snuggling comfortably into position against the solid bulk of Luke, imprisoned in the blatantly possessive circle of his arms.
'Can't offer you anything stronger than tea, coffee or fruit drinks. What shall it be? Coffee? Splendid! Madho?' The servant popped out of the shadows and was given instructions in a spate of Hindustani. Having disposed of this gesture of hospitality, the stout little hostess plumped herself in the camp chair next to Selina with a satisfied: `Ah-h-h '
The group began conversing and to forestall questioning Selina took the initiative. 'You speak the language beautifully, Mrs Martin. Have you been in India long?' she asked her neighbour politely.
`Longer than you've lived, my dear,' was the
cheerful reply. 'My husband's a doctor, you know. Thirty years in the medical missions. Too old to adapt to the English' climate again, so we decided to retire here. We spend the winter months in Lucknow. On the plains—historic old place, you ought to visit it. In summer our home is here in the hills near Almora. Did you come through Almora, by any chance?'
Careful! thought Selina. `No, it was another way. I'm not sure....'
`Keeping away from towns, you lovebirds! Quite right too. Where will you be living after the honeymoon?'
Selina glanced at Luke, but he was discussing cameras with the tubby bearded Australian. She said as confidently as she could : 'Delhi, I suppose, or wherever my—my husband takes me.'
`Oh, Delhi. Pshew! Like a furnace in the hot weather and monsoon. Come and stay with us in Almora for a while if you find it too much. Open house, you know. Jai and Greta,' she looked towards the Indian zoologist and his lint-haired Danish wife talking to Dr Martin and Narayan on the other side of the fire, 'had to make this trip for the survey on tigers. Rather early in the season for us, but we offered to open up our house for their use. Thought we'd put on our hiking boots and keep them company. When you're retired,' she added crisply, 'the best way to kill time is to work it to death! '
Selina laughed obligingly at this pithy old maxim, and as the servant had arrived with coffee, she hoped her well-meaning hostess would forget about the invitation to Almora. However, as soon as she had made sure everyone had been served, she sat down
again, stirred her mug energetically and said: `Remember, now. Any time you need a break from the heat you must come to Briar Brae. That's the name of our house. Just drop me a line.'
`It's very generous of you, but
`Can't even face the prospect of tearing yourself away from him yet, eh?' she interposed waggishly-. `You'll have to, some time or other, you know! '
This was so true; so poignant a reminder of her real plight, that Selina was startled into spilling her coffee. Luke jerked upright sharply: 'Hey! What gives, honey? That was hot!' She looked stricken, stripped of pretence. She fumbled for a handkerchief and rubbed ineffectually at the stain on his trouser leg, stopping short as she became conscious of the taut, muscular thigh beneath.
She was trembling, and Luke said urgently: `Lie fie? What is it?'
`Nothing . nothing. Luke, I'm sorry....'
`Bless my soul! ' The woman looked puzzled and disconcerted. 'My fault,' she said quickly in a bracing tone. 'Teasing your wife, Dr van Meer. The very idea of parting from you for a short stay in Almora upset her. Lucky man with such a sensitive young bride—treasure her! Girls these days are mostly hard as nails, and independent. Makes such a delightful change.' She removed Selina's mug. 'I'll get you some more coffee, my dear.'
No—thank you, I'm fine. It doesn't matter really,' Selina refused huskily, embarrassed by the flattery which had come rattling out in an attempt to smooth things over. She must think I'm soft in the head! was her wry thought.
Luke drew her back once more. Mrs Martin
bustled about replenishing other coffee mugs, and under cover of renewed conversation Luke bent his head and whispered with a hint of laughter: 'Getting tricky, was it? Well, you spiked her guns, but did you have to scald the skin off me to do it?'
'I didn't mean to....' She was still disturbed out of all proportion to a trivial accident, and hoped fervently that Luke hadn't heard the remark that precipitated it and guessed the real reason. 'I was flustered,' she confided lamely.
'Poor, sensitive little bride,' he mouthed mockingly, his warm, laughing breath tickling her ear and sending a shiver down her spine. She made an involuntary movement in response and felt his body stiffen and his arm contract like a band of tensile steel that almost crushed her ribs. His hand slid beneath the folds of her sheepskin jacket, lingered at her waist, then curved under her breast against the accelerating beat of her heart.
Selina stared up at him, bemused and wordless. The humour had suddenly vanished. His eyes were half shut, heavy lidded, and there were tight lines around his mouth. Her own eyes widened and darkened until she took a fluttering breath and dropped her gaze. Luke shifted abruptly away from her, putting space between them and draping his arm loosely round her shoulders.
'How's the survey going?' he called across the others to the Indian zoologist, his face an expressionless, coppery mask in the firelight.
Baffled by Luke's moods which seemed to keep her on a knife-edge of emotional uncertainty, Selina fumbled with the damp handkerchief and made a business of pushing it into her pocket. The wretched
`visit' was becoming a torment! Luke had the confidence to play this game, but those few unguarded seconds had so unnerved her that she sat like a puppet and made no further effort to converse. Mrs Martin eyed her quizzically once or twice, but she pretended to be keenly interested in what the zoologist was saying and presently found her attention caught.
an estimate in that there were fewer than eighteen hundred tigers left in India caused much concern and "Project Tiger" was started.'
'With international support?' Luke asked.
'It would not have been possible without. There was a five-year budget of forty million rupees, with a liberal contribution from the World Wildlife Fund. Since then there has certainly been some improvement, but not satisfactory. Changes are being made in the protected regions, patrols for poachers, and so on and so forth, and we must compile more accurate figures of the tiger population.'
`How do you keep' track of them?'
'Difficult with animals in the wild, especially in thick jungle areas. Tigers go singly or in pairs and can range many miles for their prey. We follow up all information. We had news that a tiger had been heard calling in this district--not noted before. Now we have located it lying up in a cave some twenty miles down river from here; a fine healthy specimen. The pug-marks indicate ten feet in size. By the sound of his call he is hunting for a female, so we are hopeful of natural mating and cubs here.'
`Luke! ' Selina became animated again. `Do you think we might see ...?'
`We might,' he grinned, 'if you don't take fright. Narayan?'
'We can try, if you wish,' he agreed, smiling. 'What if we come face to face with it!' she shivered in anticipation.
The zoologist laughed: 'Shout, dear lady, and you'll drive him away!' and then, satisfied that they would use nothing more lethal than a camera, he gave them directions for finding possible places for a sighting.
A short while afterwards Luke signalled Narayan and the party broke up. Luke helped Selina to her feet and drew her arm through his. Patch, relegated firmly to the background on a lead with Kunwar Singh for the past hour, barked excitedly to be free, and soon as he was released sniffed and snuffled assiduously around every item of gear in the strangers' camp, to the amusement of everyone except Luke who kept a sharp eye on the dog's antics. Patch's inquisitive nose ! I owe my life to it, Selina thought.
Goodbyes and hopes of meeting again were said. Handshakes and addresses exchanged—bogus addresses as far as Luke and Narayan were concerned, Selina felt sure, suppressing an almost hysterical desire to giggle. The strain of keeping up appearances was beginning to tell, and she was impatient to get away to the comparative security of their own camp.
Kunwar brought the lantern and Luke whistled up the dog, and they strolled back in silence along the river track. Selina slipped her arm out of Luke's as soon as their camp fire came in sight. It was a beautiful night, full of the smell and sound of bil-
lowing water, with the moon floating like an ivory disc above the gorge.
Yes, it was beautiful—Selina sighed, mesmerised by the contrast of dense black shadow and bleached limestone, the eerie shapes of stunted trees and bushes clinging to ledges and crannies in the towering walls, humped boulders as white as alabaster and reflected moonlight running like veins of silver down the river bed.
Remote and mysterious, and as lonely as a crater on the moon.
CHAPTER NINE
Now that the visit was over, without any glaring blunders, Selina should have been able to relax, but she felt thoroughly unsettled. Reaction had set in.
The brooding scowl between Luke's brows as they returned to the fire, his dismissive: 'Goodnight, Selly,' when she stood irresolutely beside him for a moment, made her flinch. He lighted a cigarette and joined Narayan—inevitably—to discuss their impressions, and she got ready for bed, packed away her good clothes and crept under the blankets.
She tried to sleep, but her brain was too active, fretted with notions about herself and about Luke which had never troubled her before. As she fidgeted and tossed on the camp-cot, her mind went back to her childhood, her girlhood, to the agonising months with Henry and Delia and the obscure outlook ahead and she was filled with a terrible sense of isolation and heartbreak.
Luke came into the tent some time later. Selina was vibrantly aware of his presence moving quietly, getting down to his sleeping-bag. She lay with her head averted and eyes shut, striving to keep very still and breathe evenly, but wakefulness and unhappiness were slowly tearing her apart. Into the silence came the thin, lilting notes of a flute; a mere thread of sound echoing down the gorge from one of the hill men in the distant camp. It was sweet, plaintive pahari music, and the mournful cadences
were the final straw. She buried her head in the pillow, stifling a moan.
`Selina?' Luke's hand came up and touched her shoulder. She turned towards him with another muffled groan. .His hand stroked the hot flush on her cheek as he said, very gently: 'Sick or worried, or just feeling blue?'
'I can't sleep....' She gulped. 'I've been thinking ... my whole life's been a mess . . . and it's become such a tangle now, I don't know what I'll do.'
There was a momentary silence. Luke said softly: `We'll sort out the tangle, Selly, we'll work it out between us later. But the other problem, before we met—you called it a nightmare once.' His fingers sought her hand and enclosed it in a strong, warm grip. 'Trust me. Tell me about it.'
She rubbed the back of her other hand over her eyes. 'Sometimes it seems unreal now, as if it happened to someone else, but I can't get it out of my mind.' A quivering sigh. 'You won't believe me, nobody else did.'
'Try me,' he said, as he had said once before, but this time gently.
She sighed again. 'I was so happy as a baby. We have a four-hundred-year-old estate on the south coast of England, right down to the sea, and a big, rambling Elizabethan manor house. I loved that old house. It was beautiful—it still is.. . .' She shifted restlessly, swallowing jerkily. 'My mother died when I was about six ... and it had an awful effect on my father. Oh, he was fond of me in his own way, I suppose, but he wasn't very good with children and my old nurse looked after me. I'm not sure how Father met Delia, she just moved in as a sort of
secretary, and to act as hostess for the business tycoons and their wives he used to entertain at weekends. She was sweetness itself to me at first ... she's petite and pretty and looks like a china doll. I was only seven or eight, but I could see Father was—well, infatuated. In a few months he married her and everything changed....' Her voice faded.
