The Far Pavilions - Mary Margaret Kaye [288]
The tears were running down Anjuli's cheeks, blinding her eyes and choking her voice so that for a time she could not speak; but she shook her head and presently she said in a broken whisper: ‘You told me so before, and I said… I said then that you were strong but that Shu-shu is weak, and so… so I cannot betray her. And if the Rana is as you say, it will be worse for her. You know that I love you… more than anyone… more than life… But – I love her too; and you are wrong when you say she does not need me. She has always needed me. Now, more than ever. And so I cannot… I cannot…’
Once again her voice failed her, and Ash realized with a terrible, sick despair that he would have stood more chance if he had lied to her – made her believe that the Rana was handsome and fascinating, and that Shu-shu could not fail to fall madly in love with him and be far better off without any intrusive half-sister making a third in their blissful life together. Had Juli believed that she might have weakened. But the truth had been fatal because it had shown her only too clearly what lay in store for Shushila – for whom there was no prospect of escape. And being Juli, that was enough to stiffen her resolution and make it appear even more necessary, now, to stay and do everything possible to sustain and comfort and encourage the frightened little sister who must marry a monster. He should have known better, and he had not…
The realization of failure invaded his brain and body in a cold wave, taking his strength from him, so that his hands relaxed their grip and fell from Anjuli's shoulders and he could only stand and stare at her. She stood before him; tall and slender and lovely in the lamplight. And royal – a princess who would become a waiting-maid…
The silence began to fill with little sounds: the flutter of moths about the hanging lamp, the creak of a guy-rope and Anjuli's soft, sobbing breaths; and through them Ash could hear the thumping of his own heart and was surprised to find that it could still beat. Unless it was Juli's heart that he could hear. For an endless interval he studied her drawn face and wide, tear-blurred eyes in a passion of love and pain, until suddenly he could bear it no longer, and reaching out he snatched her into his arms and covered her face with desperate kisses, crushing her to him in the wild hope that physical contact might accomplish what words had failed to do, and break her resistance.
For a time it almost seemed as though he had won. Her arms flew up to circle his neck and he felt her hands pressing the back of his neck while she clung to him with a desperation that equalled his own, and turned up her mouth to meet and return those frantic kisses. Time stopped and stood still for them. They had forgotten Kaka-ji, and everything and everyone else. The world had narrowed down into a charmed and timeless circle in which they were alone together, clinging so closely that it seemed to the old man who watched them that their two figures had merged into one and become a single entity – a flame or a shadow, swayed by an invisible wind…
It was Anjuli who broke the spell. Her arms slid down and she leaned back, and forcing her hands between their two bodies, pressed her palms against Ash's breast to push him away from her. And though he could so easily have held her, he did not try to do so. He knew that he was beaten. Shushila's weakness had proved stronger than his love and his own need, and there was nothing left to say. And nothing else he could do, for he had long ago abandoned any idea of abducting Juli – recognizing that even with her consent the chances of success would be minimal and the risks appalling, while without it there could be no chance at all: only the certainty of death for both of them.
He released her and stood back, and watched her stoop to grope blindly for her bourka. Her hands were shaking