His Captive Indian Princess. Tanu Jain
childhood friend. She had last seen him six years ago and the effortless arrogance and dangerous aura of power that he always exuded hadn’t diminished a bit. He descended from an illustrious royal line and his genetic heritage was stamped in the authoritative way he carried himself, in the imperious lift of his eyebrow and the disdainful expression on his face. His face remained striking as ever. Ebony winged eyebrows, high cheekbones and a sharp nose melded together to create an intimidating impact. Only the planes and angles which sculpted his face seemed more pronounced now.
His jet-black hair, which had been long and curling at his nape six years ago, was now cropped short. It gleamed menacingly in the soft light of her home. His lips, as always, were set in grim forbidding lines. His eyes bored into hers with an icy intensity that frightened her—black as night and fathomless like an ocean, at this moment they were glittering with anger. She stared back, flinching but unable to wrest herself from the force of his dark, furious gaze.
‘No answer? Oh, I forgot. I should have said, Hello, Mira! That’s your name now, isn’t it?’ Vikram said sarcastically.
Gauri felt her stomach hollowing out with dread. She struggled to find words but failed. Her mouth tried to move but her throat felt dry and no words came out.
Her mind was probably working overtime to seek a way out, Vikram thought furiously. Lying and pretending were as natural as breathing to her and she must be trying feverishly to concoct a story.
‘Still nothing to say? You never used to be short of words, as I recall! Trying to buy time, are you? Or are you going to pretend amnesia so you don’t have to recognise me?’ Vikram jibed cruelly.
Gauri bit her lip to stop her pained cry at Vikram’s cruel words. He had often used this sneering tone with her and it still hurt. Tears which she had thought she would never allow again in her eyes clogged her throat. Panicking that he would see her tears, she tried to compose herself. She wouldn’t let him see any weakness.
She turned around on the pretext of shutting the door and tried to control her turbulent emotions.
Exerting all her willpower, she wiped every trace of emotion and, composing her face, turned to him and asked stonily, ‘What do you want?’
Vikram narrowed his eyes at her calm tone. She had morphed into a tough cookie. Even his surprise appearance hadn’t managed to unsettle her. He could have sworn that she had paled and her lips had trembled but now she was in control. But she always had been a tough one. He had suspected that right from the beginning. Her fragile and delicate appearance hid her hard, avaricious and scheming nature.
He had been the only one not taken in by her seeming vulnerability—except for that one moment so many years ago.
For a short while he had believed that he had been wrong about her and that she had been all that she seemed—an innocent young girl. Against his better judgement, he had let down his guard with her and had been speedily disillusioned.
Even now, with her hair in a tight braid and no make-up that he could see, she appeared unworldly and delicate. But he was aware of her true nature and would be on his guard, as always.
He said in a condemning tone, ‘First tell me how you came to be involved in this scandalous business. Why are you working for that corrupt Singh woman? Have you lost all sense of morality? Have you no regard for the family honour?’
Gauri quailed under his verbal onslaught. But she wouldn’t tolerate his scathing attack on the one person to whom she was hugely indebted. She immediately jumped to her defence.
‘Mrs Singh is not corrupt. She is, in fact, one of the most upright people I’ve ever met. She has been wrongly accused. The girl who has levelled these accusations is doing all this out of spite because she was indulging in nefarious activities and Mrs Singh asked her to leave the home. So she decided to take revenge and went to the press with these trumped up allegations.’
‘But why are you involved?’ Vikram asked with narrowed eyes.
‘I am a part of the organization. I am assisting them as their lawyer,’ Gauri replied.
‘A lawyer! How and when did you become a lawyer?’ Vikram asked with grim disbelief.
‘It is none of your business! I don’t need your permission to become one,’ she said belligerently, smarting at his disbelieving tone.
‘Obviously, degrees these days can be easily obtained for the right price,’ Vikram said with biting scorn.
Gauri knew he was deliberately insulting her and wanted to snarl in retaliation but contented herself with a stiff, ‘Sorry to disappoint you, but I slaved for my degree and passed with flying colours.’
‘If you are a bona fide lawyer how can you willingly choose to defend such unscrupulous and wicked people?’ Vikram asked.
‘They are not wicked!’ Gauri refused to hear anything wrong against Mrs Singh, who had been her saviour and mentor when her life had seemed to be all over.
‘How can you be so sure of her innocence?’ Vikram pressed.
Gauri clammed up, refusing to elaborate further. She couldn’t explain without going into the details of her past and she had vowed never to dredge that up again. It was dead.
‘Well? Is that all you are going to say?’ Vikram growled, waiting for her to elaborate further.
But Gauri didn’t answer. She realised the difficulty of explaining herself. She would have to reveal her past to him and the mere thought of doing so made her tremble.
‘What inducements have they offered you for defending them? How much have you sold yourself for?’
Vikram’s cruel accusations were like a sharp blow to her solar plexus. She felt winded and weak. He couldn’t have made his low opinion of her any clearer.
But she answered stoically, ‘You may think what you want to! I will not say anything further about this.’
Vikram sensed that there was something Gauri wasn’t telling him. ‘You are hiding something. If you are so sure of their innocence why can’t you explain properly?’ he said fiercely.
Gauri refused to say anything and kept her eyes lowered and hands clenched.
‘So, you’re not going to answer? All right then, let’s try some different questions. Why did you flee six years ago? That, too, in the dead of the night and without informing anybody! You didn’t stop to think that we would be worried? You didn’t even care?’
Gauri turned paper-white as Vikram hurled a volley of accusations. Her legs began trembling and she felt she would collapse. Vikram saw her tremble but the anger inside him had burst its dam and he couldn’t stop. ‘Answer me, damn you!’ he hurled.
‘I … I left a letter for Madhav Dada, explaining that I had to go away and not to worry.’ Gauri forced out the words through trembling lips.
‘Don’t lie! I was with Madhav when we discovered your absence and there was no letter.’ Vikram was ready for every possible falsehood that she would offer.
Gauri raised her eyes in confusion. ‘But I left a letter in his room. He must have found it. Probably he didn’t mention it to you.’
‘Do you expect me to believe your untruths? If you had left a letter he wouldn’t have hired a detective to trace you,’ Vikram raked out.
‘He did that? But why? I mentioned that I would call him once I was settled to assure him that I was fine,’ Gauri said tremulously, bewilderment writ on her face.
She must think I am a fool. Her doe eyes and seemingly sincere expression would have swayed a more susceptible man, Vikram fulminated. But he knew better. She was a consummate actress and, even as a young girl, she had been adept at putting on performances and deceiving others.
‘Then why didn’t you call, as you claim?’ he countered with patent disbelief.
Gauri remained