No, she must take her life into her own hands, create herself in a new world where she would not let anyone close enough to hurt her.
‘What is the matter?’
She twisted round and saw Nick was watching her, a frown bringing his eyebrows together. Anusha almost confessed something of her fears of Calcutta, the vista of loneliness that she envisaged lying before her. But, no, she must not forget he was on her father’s side in this. He would see her safely delivered, even if he had to put her in a sack to do it. But she could afford to behave as he wished for now: he would get her safely to Calcutta and there she would gather the money and gems with which to escape. ‘The river is interesting, but I miss Rajat.’
Nick seemed comfortable enough, his right arm hanging relaxed by his side, so close that if she leaned over, just a little, the back of his hand would brush her shoulder. It was tempting to move that tiny distance and see if his touch would wake those little thrills under her skin, the ache between her legs.
It was sexual desire, which was very interesting. Men seemed to feel it for virtually any woman who was not actually repulsive, but did women, once they were aware of it, feel it for any man? What if she had agreed to a marriage with one of her suitors for whom she felt nothing—would she have felt desire for him? All those intriguing things that men and women did together seemed embarrassing and puzzling if there was no desire. What did it mean that she felt desire for Nick?
‘Why have you taken off the sling?’ she demanded. A battle would take her mind off wondering what it would be like if he made love to her.
‘Because it was a nuisance.’ He flexed his fingers on his knee. ‘And because I do not want to appear weakened to any onlookers.’
‘You think we are still in danger?’
He nodded. ‘Perhaps.’
‘You do not seem to wish to shield me from anxiety. Is that how you treat all English ladies? I thought they were protected and sheltered by gentlemen.’
A shadow seemed to pass over his face, but he answered her robustly enough, ‘Do you want me to lie to you? Treat you as though you had no wits and no courage? I thought you boasted you were Rajput—a warrior.’
‘I am. And I do not wish you to—what is the word?—hide me in the dark.’
‘Keep you in the dark. Perhaps there is nothing to worry about from Altaphur’s men, but even if there is not, there are still those who steal from boats.’ He picked up the musket which lay on the deck at his side and propped it up more visibly against his chair. ‘Have you your knife still?’
‘I have one of them, you took the other.’
‘I will give it back to you. Sleep with them both to hand and do not go out of your cabin at night unless you know I am there.’ The banks were slipping past at speed now as the flow of the river carried them down and she realised that Nick’s gaze was on them, with only fleeting glances at her when she spoke. The jungle came down to the riverside in places, in others there were sandbanks, or rocky outcrops. There was a shout from the stern as the cook-boat, flat-bottomed and unwieldy on the end of its tow-rope, bumped into them.
‘Fool of a son of a camel,’ yelled the man at the tiller. ‘Use your poles to keep off us!’
‘We must moor at night and the men will sleep on the shore,’ Nick said. ‘They prefer to eat there in any case.’
‘But that means anyone could attack us, and we waste time.’
‘Look.’ He pointed a little ahead where a rounded black shape rose out of the water. ‘We will lose more than time if we hit one of those rocks.’
‘What will we do with ourselves, on this boat for so many days?’ she wondered aloud, then felt the heat rise up her neck at the thought of what they could be doing.
‘You wanted to travel—now is your chance to see one of the great rivers of the world. We will be joining the Ganges soon. It will make the Jumna look like a stream, so you will have constant entertainment just watching the banks.’
And it will carry me down to a new world. Travel seemed less interesting now; she wanted, yet dreaded, her destination. ‘Tell me what it is like to be an English lady,’ Anusha asked.
‘How would I know?’
‘You were married to one,’ she said tartly and saw his hand clench as though she had prodded his wounded shoulder. ‘Your mother was one, you live among them when you are in Calcutta. Tell me what I must do to be one of them.’
Nick hesitated and Anusha twisted round on the deck at his feet, her hand on his knee to shake it, as though to force an answer out of him. ‘You do not tell me—is it that I will never be one of them?’ Not that she cared for what those unknown women thought, but if she was to live in that world, make her escape into it, she had to understand.