She hurried after him. "Toss out—you'll do no such thing!"
"Why not? They're in my way."
"Are you mad? We all must eat. You may not have the scullery."
"Beauty has more value than food." He frowned. "I will compromise. I'll permit you to have the scullery in the evening for your cooking."
"You will permit . . ." She drew a deep breath and said through her teeth, "You toss out one cooking pot and I'll use you for tomorrow's stew meat."
He studied her expression over his shoulder. "I believe you would do it." He suddenly chuckled. "You'd find me tough fare, madam. I'm no tender rabbit."
"One pot," she enunciated clearly.
"Oh, very well." He shrugged. "I noticed a space almost as adequate in the stable, but you must help me clear it and tell Jock to find me bricks to build my furnace."
"Jock will be too busy tending Ian to indulge you in your foolishness, and I certainly have no time."
Kartauk sighed. "I've come to a land of uncaring savages who offer me no help and will probably manipulate my talent to suit themselves."
"You accuse me of manipulating you because I won't let you—" She broke off as realization dawned. Kartauk was not the one who was being manipulated. "You had no intention of using the scullery," she said flatly.
"No? Then why would I say I intended to do so?"
She did not know the answer. Yet perhaps . . . kindness, an attempt to distract her from her grief without damaging her pride? He had certainly seen her weakness and acted with faultless accuracy to dispel it. No, she must be mistaken. They were strangers, and he could not possibly read her so well.
"I have no idea why you would be so devious," she said tartly. "I've heard men of the East delight in such convoluted maneuvering. No doubt it's an affliction of your heathen blood."
"No doubt," he said blandly. "But I'm sure a Godfearing Scottish lady such as yourself will have no trouble seeing through my heathen trickery."
Before she could answer, he strode ahead of her down the hall and started down the stairs.
. . .
It was after nine o'clock in the evening when Jane and Li Sung finally finished cleaning the scullery and climbed the stone stairs to the front hall.
"Sweet heaven, I'm tired." She arched her back to rid it of stiffness. "And my knees feel as if they're black and blue from scrubbing that blasted floor."
"Go to bed. You will feel better in the morning." Li Sung opened the front door.
"Where are you going?"
"To the stable. Kartauk has found a place for his workshop and quarters. I will live with him."
"But you have a chamber here."
"I'm used to Kartauk."
"But will you be comfortable there?"
"More comfortable than here. The temple had far more potential for comfort than this castle."
"Then we must make the most of what we have. We've done it before."
"Yes." Li Sung paused. "But this is different."
She knew what he meant. Glenclaren seemed foreign to both of them. Neither she nor Li Sung belonged in castles and were far more accustomed to building than maintaining and repairing. "We'll get used to it."
"Because you must help Ian? I would judge Margaret MacDonald is all he needs." He smiled faintly. "More than he needs."
"She cannot do everything. While she helps him regain his strength, I'll do all I can to help his Glenclaren." She added, "But you don't have to stay here if you're not happy."
"What would I do? Search out Patrick in that lodging house in Edinburgh and share his bottle?" he asked bitterly. "I admit there have been times when I've been tempted to choose that escape."
Her eyes widened. "You have?"
"Why do you think I rarely permit myself to drink liquor? It's not easy being a cripple, to limp instead of run."
She reached out and gently touched his arm. "I know, Li Sung."
"No, you do not know." His gaze went to the stairs. "But now Ian knows." He started down the steps. "I will stay here, where there is no temptation."
Jane followed him to the door and watched him limp across the courtyard toward the stable. Did anyone ever really know another person? She had thought she knew Patrick, and he had done that unspeakable thing. She had thought she knew Li Sung, but she was again being proved wrong.
Blue eyes searing, blazing, in a face as beautiful as a fallen angel's.
What had caused the thought of Ruel to pop out of nowhere? She could claim to know him even less than others. Margaret's revelations this afternoon had shocked and disturbed her. She supposed she shouldn't have been so surprised. No one was less predictable and more enigmatic than Ruel.
Yet in those weeks after the wreck she had seen in him a resolution and a will that would never waver.
No, she must not think of Ruel. She had probably only thought she loved him. No, she would not lie to herself. She had loved Ruel, but surely time and distance would make that love fade and wither. She would make sure she kept herself busy enough to block out all thought of him.
In the distance she could see gently rolling hills, the heather a pale blur in the darkness. How different this land was from Kasanpore, as different as the life she must now lead here.
But she must no longer think of that other life. While she could help Ian, her place was here.
Now there was only Glenclaren.
Cinnidar.
Ruel's hands tightened on the rail, his gaze on the island the small fishing boat was approaching. The first time he had seen Cinnidar he had felt this same sense of wonder and excitement, this sense of promise.
Jane had said something like that about her trains, he remembered suddenly. Her face had been glowing and yet there had been a gravity about—
Dammit, he would not think of her.
Instead, he would remember Ian as he had last seen him when he had settled him on the bunk of the Bonnie Lady. Pale, wasted ... in terrible pain.
The ship glided closer to the pier. He was almost home.
He instantly rejected that thought too. Cinnidar was a pot of gold, not home to him. He had no need for a home just as he had no need for Jane Barnaby. What he did need was buried deep in the bowels of that mountain, and he would have to work and sweat to find a way to tear it out. He would have no time to think of anythingbut the task that lay ahead.
Now there was only Cinnidar.
Chapter 10
October 4, 1879
Glenclaren
Jane hurriedly straightened away from the wall as Margaret came out of Ian's chamber. "How is he?'
"Stubborn." Margaret moved brusquely down the hall toward the staircase. "He won't hear of going to Spain for the winter. I can do nothing with the man."
That statement certainly underscored the seriousness of the situation, Jane thought. Margaret seldom admitted defeat in any area. "You've had the physician speak to him again?"