Constance recalled what it had been like to dance with him during the Jagannath festival—the exhilaration of their impossible ability to follow the unfamiliar steps mingling with something a little hotter as Neil had hauled her up against his chest while the tabla pulsed with a tantalizing rhythm.
Neil had a very nice chest.Constance had made a reasonable study of it when they’d sheltered overnight in a rock cut tomb after escaping from Julian’s dahabeeyah.He was terribly pale but also elegantly well-defined—all that lean muscle promising unexpected strength.
Not that she’d had any intention of doing more than looking.She’d been justifiably furious with him at the time.Still, there was no harm in acknowledging that the fellow was shockingly well put together for a scholar.
His future wife would undoubtedly appreciate all of that, along with his long-fingered hands, the hints of green in his eyes, and the way his hair felt like silk when you ran your fingers through it.
Hold on—when would Constance have ever run her fingers through Neil’s hair?Had she just imagined how it would feel?That was silly.Why on earth would she do a thing like that?She had probably just picked a bug out of it once in the past… or, more likely, put a bug into it.
That sounded right.
Her grandmother was still talking.Constance snapped back to herself, struggling to catch up.
“…planning it all, of course, as soon as you are back from your mission,” Padma finished.
“Planning?”Constance echoed carefully.
Padma shot her a dry look.“Yes, Kondi.Weddings do take a great deal of planning.”
Panic iced through her.“Surely, there’s no need to rush.”
“No?”Padma returned.“Are you not so eager, then, to start your married life with Dr.Fairfax?”
Constance sensed a trap.“Oh—I’m desperately eager,” she quickly countered.“You have no idea how eager I am.I’m practically burning up with eagerness.”
Ellie stumbled beside her.
“It’s only that—you know—one hardly wants to rush these things,” Constance continued hurriedly.“The anticipation is half the fun, isn’t it?”
A strangled sound gurgled at the back of Ellie’s throat.The noise gave Constance a spark of helpful inspiration.“Besides, Neil would want his parents to be able to attend, and Ellie’s father gets terribly seasick.Why, he can barely handle anything longer than a channel crossing!They would have to complete the journey to India overland.Or we can simply plan the ceremony in England.Really, that makes the most sense.I’m sure Neil and I can contain ourselves until then.”
“Can you?”Padma returned with deceptive ease.
Constance schooled her features into an expression of solemn determination.“With great fortitude.”
“How lucky that you are such a model of self-control,” Padma returned, straight-faced.“But ah—here we are.”
They stood before a small building of roughly the same dimensions as the neighboring storefronts.The bricks of the facade were painted in bright hues of blue, green, purple, and gold.A small tower rose over the back half of the structure in cake-like layers that tapered to a rounded peak at the top.
“It’s a temple!”Constance exclaimed, recognizing the distinctive shape of the shikhara that crowned the sanctuary.
“Of course, it is.”Padma took a basket from Mr.Mahjoud.“Now come inside, and don’t forget to take off your shoes.”
?
Constance followed her grandmother into the colorful building, buzzing with excitement about her first visit to a Hindu temple.She had watched Padma perform puja to the murtis on her household altar before, so the concept of Hindu prayer wasn’t completely foreign to her.However, both of her parents were Church of England, and Constance still attended services with them when Sir Robert and Lady Sabita insisted on it.
It was easy enough to sneak a novel into the hymnal and catch up on a little reading during the sermon.
She remained deeply curious about her grandmother’s faith, soaking up all of Padma’s stories about her beliefs and practice.
“Who are we coming to see, then?”Constance asked excitedly as she freed herself of her boots, setting them on the rack for shoes that stood by the temple steps.
Padma answered her with a secretive smile.
They stepped from the covered porch into a modest hall.The temple was a place of neighborhood worship rather than a sprawling institution like Lord Jagannath’s home in Puri.The tile floor was swept clean while the paint on the walls was slightly cracked with age.
A young priest stepped forward to greet them, dressed in dhotis with a saffron scarf over his chest.After a brief and polite exchange in Odia with her grandmother, he led them into the temple’s inner sanctuary, where a single goddess in painted stone and plaster awaited them, standing on a raised platform.
