Page 98 of A Modest Independence

Tom’s chest tightened at the sight of her—even more so when Mr. Walters gave voice to his thoughts.

“Your sister appears well suited to India, if you don’t mind my saying so.”

“Yes, she—” Tom broke off. “She has an adventurous nature.”

Mr. Walter’s tilted his sketchpad in Tom’s direction. “I’m not a professional portraitist by any means, but I do believe I’ve managed to capture something of her spirit.”

Tom stared down at the pencil sketch. His mouth went dry. Indeed, it wasn’t a proper portrait. And yet…somehow, Mr. Walters had caught the very thing that made Jenny so captivating. It was there in the arch of her brows and the stubborn uptilt of her chin. There in the curve of her soft lips and in the way tendrils of hair determinedly escaped from her carefully pinned coiffure.

“The elephant was more difficult, surprisingly.” Mr. Walters examined his drawing with a frown. “Something about the legs. I shall have to study the proportions and try again.” He tore the sketch out of his book and offered it to Tom. “With my compliments.”

“Thank you.” Tom looked at the piece of paper a moment longer before folding it carefully away into a pocket of his waistcoat.

“Happy to be of service.” Mr. Walters gathered his things and stood. “If you’ll excuse me, I must ready myself for dinner.”

Tom bid him good evening.

In the street, the elephant’s keeper drove it onward. Jenny stood awhile, watching it go. And then she looked at Tom, still smiling. “Did you see her, Tom?”

He crossed the short distance to join her. “She was hard to miss.”

Jenny met him halfway, dusting her hands on her skirts as she walked. “Wasn’t she marvelous? And so intelligent, too! She understood everything her handler said to her.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t a trick? Like the whist-playing dog at Cremorne Gardens?”

Her eyes twinkled. “I’m surprised you remember.”

“How could I forget?” They had encountered the famous Learned Dog Lily last year while visiting the pleasure gardens with Justin and Lady Helena. The memory of dancing with Jenny that evening, of laughing with her and squiring her about on his arm, was one of Tom’s most treasured.

“An elephant is smarter than a dog, surely,” she said. “One only has to look into its eyes to know that it’s thinking profound thoughts.”

“That may be taking things a bit far.”

“Nonsense. You’d have seen it yourself if you weren’t hanging back with Mr. Walters.”

Tom smiled down at her. “I was admiring you. I’ve rarely seen you look so happy.”

A flush rose in her cheeks. “You make it sound as though I’m gloomy all the rest of the time.”

“Not at all.” His gaze drifted over her face. “Did you realize that you’ve begun to freckle from all of this sun?”

She looked vaguely horrified. “Have I?”

“It’s rather charming.”

“It’s careless, is what it is.” She touched her nose. “If I were smart, I’d have been carrying a parasol every day and employing a lemon juice wash every night.”

“Alas, we can’t all be as intelligent as an elephant.”

She burst out laughing. The sound of it warmed him from the inside out. “On that chivalrous note,” she said, taking his arm, “you’d best escort me back to the hotel for dinner.”

What Tom wanted to do was to take her in his arms and kiss her laughing mouth. They hadn’t kissed since their memorable ride in that Calcutta gharry—and he had a sinking feeling that they never would again. It was for the best, really. But that didn’t stop him longing for her.

They dined with the other guests, seated far away from each other at the table, and then—at nine o’clock—boarded the train that would take them through Cawnpore and on to Delhi.

There were delays, of course. It seemed, when it came to Indian rail travel, that there were always delays. However, within an hour they were rattling along the tracks at a good rate of speed, all of them tucked snug into their berths for the overnight journey.

“We’ll be in Delhi by tomorrow afternoon,” Jenny said into the darkness of their compartment. “The end of our quest, for good or ill.”