Neil stiffened defensively.“Who says I’m ashamed of anything?”
Constance didn’t answer.Her look was steady and understanding.In the face of it, a little of the tension in Neil’s chest softly unraveled.
She glanced through the doors at the glittering people tipping back their glasses of champagne.“It takes more courage to walk outside of their circles than it does to fit into them.”
The soft certainty in her words struck Neil to silence as he gazed down at her through the shadows.
A more comfortable glimmer of mischief sparked in her eyes.She pulled him along the veranda, peering into the other rooms in quick sequence until they reached the end of the walkway, where the public areas of the club gave way to guest suites.“Where are Ellie and Adam?”
“Maybe they’re following another lead.”
Constance mulled this over.“We’ll have to go on without them,” she concluded authoritatively.
“Where?”
“The Lal Bagh.Where else?”
“But we’re only supposed to find out where Borthwick is staying,” Neil protested.“That’s what Mr.Chowdhury said.”
“What if your friend Fletcher was wrong?”Constance treated him to an innocently imploring blink of her lashes.“We wouldn’t want to give Mr.Chowdhury inaccurate information.We’ll just pop over and take a look.”
Neil groaned and let her pull him down into the garden.
?
The former Mughal palace building was separated from the rest of the club by a stretch of silent, manicured golf course.The elegant structure was roughly square in proportion, rising two generous stories from the broad gravel drive.The top floor boasted grand floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the grounds.The lower level had more of the feeling of a fortress, the windows narrow and high-set in otherwise impenetrable walls.
The door stood at the top of a modest flight of steps.It was closed.
“Do you think you could boost me into one of those lower windows?”Constance asked.
Neil considered the slender openings.Getting Constance up to one of them would require Neil to put his hands on places that made the tips of his ears turn pink.And he’d have to wade into a thick woody hedge of some flowering shrub to do it.
“I don’t think so,” he replied.
“Hmph.”Constance frowned with dissatisfaction.
As they continued to study the building from their hiding place beside an ornamental pond, Neil found himself drawn toward lights that gleamed from the upper floor.The tall windows there had been left open to catch the night breeze from the sea, which rushed softly in the twilit gloom at the far end of the golf course.
Fuzzily, he noticed how the lower floor of the building jutted out a bit further than the second level, creating a narrow ledge below the windows.A stone balustrade lined the length of it so that someone might step outside to enjoy even more of the night air.
In fact, the Indian gentleman standing at the window seemed to be contemplating doing just that.
The man looked to be somewhere in his forties, his stomach rounded with indulgence under a silver-streaked beard.He cut an elegant figure in his richly embroidered kurta, which was tied at his waist with an ivory scarf.There was something authoritative about the way he held his head under his jewel-pinned turban.
“Maybe we can just walk in,” Neil suggested thickly.“It’s open to other guests.”
“What makes you say that?”Constance pressed skeptically.“Your friend Fletcher didn’t make it sound that way.”
“Well, that Indian fellow in the window doesn’t look like he’d be there with Borthwick, and he certainly isn’t staff.”
Constance stared at him.
“What?”Neil asked, dragging his gaze from the old palace building to look at her.
“Stuffy, there’s no Indian fellow in the window.”
“Of course, there…” Neil trailed off as he looked back at the Lal Bagh.
