Sophisticated Seduction. Jayne Bauling
brother were both born here. I was only twelve when the old guy died but even the younger of my cousins, who was just five, remembers his stories, and I suppose something in them got hold of us and drew us back, although it’s a very different India today, better in most ways.’
‘Is that why—this house?’ Bridget asked with a shy laugh. ‘It’s not my idea of a company house.’
‘Yes, in fact it was the city residence of former, minor Rajput royalty. You’ve probably noticed that sun with its writhing rays carved into the front doors. Many of the more important royal town residences around here house embassies these days. If you’re going to Rajasthan for material you ought to stay with the previous owners. Tell me when and I’ll let Chiranji know.’
‘Those bright tie-and-dyes…’ But Bridget was more interested in the man now that he had forgotten to be so superciliously condescending. ‘What are you here for?’
‘Some extra factories we’ve acquired. The present safety standards do meet current regulations, but I want to be sure there won’t be any tragedies, so I’m having a look and then Anand can implement any upgrading I feel is necessary.’
‘Yes, I’ve heard you like to do that personally rather than delegating.’ Then pain passed across the young smoothness of Bridget’s face like the flying shadow of a cloud in the wind as she remembered that it was Loris who had told her that, and she stood up swiftly. ‘Can we take our drinks with us? I think I’d better serve now or it won’t be so nice. I’ll have to improve my timing.’
‘Why, are you planning to cook for me on a regular basis?’ Nicholas asked, rising and following her, and the idly mocking note in his voice prompted one of her uncontrollable blushes, leaving her fleetingly tongue-tied before resentment restored the power of speech.
‘Don’t get your hopes up!’
‘Not before I’ve sampled the fare, anyway,’ he retorted, with one of those quick, scintillating smiles that kept upsetting her perception of him as an arrogant archcynic.
‘What do you think?’ she ventured, when they had begun their meal in the beautiful dining-room which was furnished in western style, the teak table bearing a bowl of pale pink roses from the garden, and then wished she hadn’t because she didn’t want him getting the idea that his opinion mattered to her; it didn’t!
Nicholas regarded her with detached amusement. ‘How much of it was you and how much Sita? I’m just wondering what’s behind this. Possibly the fact that having realised that you cannot divert, let alone seduce me in the most obvious way, you’ve decided to turn what is clearly a real talent to distracting me from finding out what my sister is really up to.’
This further evidence of his absolute cynicism had an unexpected effect on Bridget. She felt weighed down by something very close to despair.
Strangely enough, the feeling gave her the courage to return his look steadily.
‘And why in the world would I want to seduce you?’
‘On the surface, for the reason I’ve just cited—to distract me from asking any more awkward questions about Virginia. Then again, you must be about the age when girls start thinking it’s high time they acquired some experience, and you wouldn’t be the first to look to me to supply it.’
‘Experience for experience’s sake?’ Bridget was scathing. ‘Not this girl!’
‘If you want me to believe that, you’d better stop those speculative looks I keep catching from you,’ he advised her coolly. ‘Not that they’d get you anywhere. I’m not interested in initiating innocents. So what are you really hoping for with all this?’
‘If anything, that once you’ve got a good meal inside you you’ll become human enough to respect the promise I made Virginia,’ she said flatly, following it with a shrug. ‘If not, I’m sorry—but I’m still sorry; you’ll just have to wait until she phones with an explanation.’
‘If she phones.’ Nicholas spoke equally flatly and was then silent, scrutinising her mercilessly for some time before apparently deciding to abandon the topic, if only for now. ‘How old are you?’
‘Twenty-one.’ Bridget concentrated on the delicately flavoured pink-tinted chicken on her plate.
The fact that his surprise was entirely genuine was hardly flattering.
‘I was imagining you as about eighteen, and probably still living at home with your parents.’
‘Then perhaps you’ll realise at last that you’re wrong about a lot of other things as well,’ she snapped.
‘All the same, I hardly think the twenty-one counts for much,’ he remarked slightingly. ‘If anything, it increases the likelihood that you are in fact hoping either to satisfy your curiosity, or at least to make some sort of gesture that will proclaim you irrevocably an adult woman.’
‘I can promise you I don’t feel the least curiosity about you, and I don’t know why you think being thirty-four makes you so superior. It just makes you cynical and decadent and—and used!’ she concluded inarticulately.
‘Do you mean used up?’ he quipped. ‘Not yet, darling. Not by a long way.’
‘Obviously not,’ she allowed tartly, ‘judging by Wanda and your army of female fans who’ve been arriving at the door all week, hoping they’d find you, when they realised someone was living in the house. You’d better gladden their hearts by letting them know you’re in town, hadn’t you? There was an air hostess, and someone from the Embassy, and a girl from AIR.’
Laughter lurked in his eyes. ‘Are you very shocked?’
‘Why should I be? They didn’t say so, but they all struck me as being single—not like Troy Varney,’ she added impulsively, picturing the rock star’s wife who managed to be one of the most glamorous women in England despite a downbeat style that somehow mixed raggle-taggle with Goth.
It banished the amusement and she saw his features tauten slightly.
‘Ah, so that did shock you,’ Nicholas surmised silkily. ‘Are you expecting me to defend myself, Bridget?’
‘Hardly!’ she snapped.
‘At least you possess that much intelligence.’ Somehow the insolent comment carried a warning edge, cautioning her against trespassing further, but then his mood changed as something else occurred to him. ‘Tell me one thing. I think you can do it without breaking your promise. This man Virginia is supposedly in love with. Is he married?’
‘Separated years ago,’ she answered him, hoping it wasn’t something Virginia would count as a betrayal, but sensing real concern behind the question.
Now she thought she detected a flicker of relief in the grey eyes, and she supposed the way he managed and directed his family’s lives could be ascribed to protectiveness, even if he did take it too far, to the point of interference. Of course, given his own past relationship with Troy Varney, he couldn’t have any moral objections to Virginia’s becoming involved with a married man, so presumably he simply wanted her to be spared the sort of pain that was integral to relationships in which one partner wasn’t free.
During the remainder of the meal, Nicholas questioned her about the materials she would be buying for Ginny’s. Bridget had a feeling that he was testing her, but she responded equably, talking about the heavy silks in brilliant contrasting colours that Virginia wanted from the south, white voile with chikan embroidery from Uttar Pradesh, Benares or Varanasi brocades, lovely off-white shot with gold from Bengal, Chanderi cottons with their tiny floral motifs in gold, expensive and beautiful Jamdani muslins, an inch of which it might take eight men a day to weave, summer material from the Deccan, the variations in texture rather than patterns favoured by the Maheshwari, and the intricate designs woven by a secret process handed down from generation to generation that characterised the Baluchar fabrics.
‘Show-off,’ Nicholas murmured when she