Page 136 of A Thousand Painted Hours

“Oh no. I’ve only shown in a few galleries.”

“She is too modest,” Tanveer said. “She has shown in London and Cairo and will show in Bombay, too, if my sister has her way.”

The mention of Cairo made me nervous. Would the tale of my flight from my husband have circulated this far? I doubted it, but still. “You mentioned my mother earlier, Colonel. Did you ever meet her?”

“Only once,” he said with some regret. “We danced at New Year in ... must have been ’08 or ’09.” He raised his glass. “You resemble her.”

“As a puddle reflects the sky,” I said. We all laughed. So jovial.

The rain held off until the middle of dinner, and came crashing through as it was wont to do, noise and drama and pyrotechnics that lit up the room. “I have missed these storms! It never crashes like this in England.” I breathed it in. “That smell!”

“I did try to live in England myself,” the colonel said. “My wife was desperate to go back, but I’d never lived there, you see.”

“It was the same for me,” I exclaimed, leaning forward. “I was in Nainital until I was fifteen.”

He coughed. “I never went back for school. My parents were working people, you know. But my wife came out in the nineties to find a husband and found me.” He laughed a little. I was warming to him as he grew more inebriated. “But she never loved India. It was too hot,too dry, no bluebells. All the complaints. We went back after our sons were born, but I did not care for the damp and the cold.” He shuddered.

“What brought you back, then?”

“Oh, my wife died, I’m afraid, just before the war. I wanted to get out of England before they conscripted me.”

Tanveer, at the head of the table, went quite still. “You did not serve?”

“No, I came here. That was service enough, ha!”

“I spent the war in France,” Tanveer said. His hand with its jewels rested motionless on the table. “Are you aware that Sikhs made up twenty percent of the British forces?”

“Is that right? Impressive.”

“Indeed. Especially when one considers that Sikhs only make up two percent of the Indian population.” His eyes held a dangerous glitter, and I found myself sitting up straighter. “In fact, a good many of those ‘cells’ you are so concerned with are made up of veterans of the war, men who were promised an independent India if they would serve. And yet, here we are, these eight years later and not only has that promise been rescinded, but martial law has been invoked, and punishments are humiliating and extreme.” His eyes burned. “And I need not mention the massacre at Amritsar.”

“An unfortunate incident, indeed. No one was happy about that, Singh.”

“Someone was.”

“Look, man, I know. I know.” He slammed his hands on the table. “But you’ll shoot yourself in your own foot if you don’t calm the locals. They’ll come after you next.” He pointed at me. “Her.”

Tanveer stood. “This conversation is over. Shafi will see you to your chambers.” He held out a hand toward me. “Lady Turner?”

Blinking at the sudden turn of events, I stood. “Of course. Good night, Colonel.”

—69—

Tanveer walked so quickly, I had to hurry behind him, my little heels clicking on the tiles. Once we left the dining room, the noise of the storm was even louder, but only the corridor was lit with lanterns at regular intervals. Tanveer did not let go of my hand as he strode through one corridor, and then to another, which was only lit by a single lantern at the foot of a staircase. He turned there, and pulled me behind him, up and up, and up.

At the top, another lantern burned nearby a door, one I recognized as a twin to my own. We were heading for the tower opposite mine, which housed his bedroom.

My heart suddenly pounded in my ears. “Tanveer,” I said.

He halted, and I felt the fury pulsing from his limbs. He broke away and paced for a moment, back and forth, back and forth beneath the shelter of the corridor. Just beyond, on the open balcony, the rain poured in wild splendor. “They’re all so bloody arrogant,” he said finally, hands on his hips. “How can they still believe they’ll hold on to their power?”

“I don’t think they do,” I said mildly. “They know their time is nearly finished here.”

He measured me. “Do you believe that?”

“Of course I do.”

“Because I have brainwashed you.”