The Tiger Prince by Iris Johansen Read Free Book Online

“And gave no reason?”
    “Great artists are often unstable and given to fancies.” Abdar shrugged. “However, I am willing to forgive him and take him back.”
    “How kind.”
    Abdar chose to ignore the irony in Ruel’s tone. “Yes, it is. But I must find him in order to persuade him to return.”
    “Perhaps he’s no longer in Kasanpore,” Ian said. “He is still here. I’ve recently seen an example of his work.”
    “Where?”
    “You are aware of the railroad my father is having built from Kasanpore to our summer palace in Narinth?”
    “We could hardly miss it,” Ian said dryly. “Everyone in the city appears to be laboring on it.”
    “My father is like a child with a new toy. He imported this Patrick Reilly, a construction engineer, from England, to build it, and talks of nothing else. He is concerned only with engines and whistles and velvet-covered seats that—” He broke off and drew a deep breath. “I do not like these new ways. This railroad is an atrocity. Anyway, my father decided he desired a golden door carved with wondrous designs to grace his private car and insisted Reilly provide one.”
    “Rather an extravagant demand.”
    “Not for a maharajah.” Abdar lifted his chin haughtily. “It is our right to demand what pleases us from those beneath us.”
    “And did Reilly provide what your father demanded?”
    “Eventually. My father told him if he did not furnishthe door, he would pay him nothing and find another construction engineer to finish the railroad.”
    “I can see how that might have proved an incentive,” Ruel said dryly.
    “The door was carved by John Kartauk.”
    “You’re certain?”
    “I know his work well.” Abdar’s lips thinned. “The door is an exquisite abomination.”
    “Exquisite abomination,” Ruel repeated. “It would seem to have to be either one or the other.”
    Abdar shrugged. “My poor English again.”
    “The solution seems simple enough. Ask Reilly where your artist is to be found.”
    “Do you think me a fool? I did ask and he claimed he had no knowledge of Kartauk. He said his ward found a man in the town to do the work, and when I questioned her she would tell me nothing. She said he was only a local goldsmith and had left for Calcutta directly after he finished the door.”
    “She? A woman?”
    Abdar nodded jerkily and his words were suddenly heavy with venom. “Reilly calls her his ward, though the slut is undoubtedly his whore. Her name is Jane Barnaby, a bold piece with no manners and an unbridled tongue. She frequents Zabrie’s house of shame, where she mixes and sleeps with foreigners and low-caste workers and shows no—”
    “Bribe her,” Ruel cut into the tirade.
    “I do not offer money to whores and liars.”
    “Pity. It’s such a useful tool.”
    “However, I have set watch on her and she has not met with Kartauk in the past two weeks.”
    “Perhaps she told the truth and he did leave for Calcutta.”
    “He could not have left the city! Kasanpore is mine. No one draws a breath here without my knowing it.”
    “And yet Kartauk managed to hide himself and fashion an entire door without you knowing it.”
    A faint flush tinted Abdar’s olive cheeks. “I begin tofind your insolence intolerable. Perhaps I do not need your help after all.”
    Ian said quickly, “What is it that you wish us to do?”
    “I told you, find Kartauk and bring him to me. His mother was Scottish and he has the same fondness as my father for those of your nationality. Perhaps he will trust you when he would hesitate to give faith to a man of my race.”
    “And how do you suggest we find him?”
    “The woman. The Barnaby slut must occupy Kartauk’s bed as well as Reilly’s, or she would not run such risk.” He shrugged. “It is not surprising. Reilly is no longer in his first youth, and Kartauk is a man in his prime.”
    Ruel’s gaze narrowed on Abdar’s face. “And what risk does she run?”
    Abdar smiled blandly. “Why, the risk of