Green Eyes by Karen Robards

Author:Karen Robards
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Romance, Historical
ISBN: 9780380758890
Publisher: Avon
Published: 1991-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

XXX

Five days later, Julian slipped out a rear window of a sprawling white-tiled residence on the outskirts of Anuradhapura. It was in the small hours between midnight and dawn, and over everything lay the hush of a city at rest. Inside the house, the only sound was the sighing of many sleepers. The Khansamah had fifteen wives, and they all dreamed on pallets within.

“Did you get ’em?” Jim, waiting inside the walled garden, hurried forward as soon as Julian’s leg appeared over the sill.

“Shhh.” Julian jumped lightly to the ground, motioning Jim away from the house. “I got ’em.”

“You did? You did!” Jim stopped dead, his face transformed by a wide grin. “By God, Julie, you’re a wonder! You weren’t in there half an hour, and all we knew was that the emeralds were in the women’s room!”

“Would you come on? I don’t know about you, but I don’t fancy being chased down the street by a sword-wielding Hindu and his servants.”

Thus recalled to a sense of place, Jim followed Julian over the garden wall. Not until they were well away from the city could Julian be persuaded to stop.

“Would you look at the bloody things?” Jim said at last in exasperation when they reined in their horses and dismounted for a brief rest.

Dawn was breaking as Julian opened the pouch and spilled the gems into his hand. They were all there, except for the bracelet. A creeping tendril of light touched the gems, making them glow brilliantly green. Julian ran them between his fingers, feeling the stones and their gold setting carefully.

“Nothin’?” Jim asked.

Julian shook his head. Putting the emeralds in his pocket, he turned his attention to the pouch. He hefted it; it felt empty. It would help if he knew what kind of proof he was looking for.

Then his questing fingers encountered a stiffness in an inside seam.

“Do you have a knife?” he asked hoarsely.

Wordlessly Jim extracted a knife from a bundle tied behind his saddle and handed it to Julian.

Feeling preternaturally calm, Julian slit the seam, then ran his fingers along the opening. When he withdrew them, a small, much-folded scrap of paper lay in his hand.

“What is it?” Jim demanded.

Julian was beyond speech. Forcing his hands steady by sheer force of will, he unfolded the paper.

There, written in a spidery hand for all the world to see, were the words he’d been waiting all his life to read.

“Lord Ridley was my father,” he said slowly, looking up from the paper at last to focus on the impatient Jim. “And my granny was right: my parents were married.”

Jim let out a whoop and clapped Julian on the back. Julian said little as he restored the emeralds and the marriage lines to the pouch, then remounted and rode on toward Srinagar.

The fantasy he had cherished all his life had come true. He was Lord Ridley, rightful owner of Gordon Hall and all that went with it. He was a rich man, a nobleman.

Why didn’t he feel overjoyed?

Anna.

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