He didn't change his positionas she came out on the veranda. "What are you doing up? You need yourrest." He looked down in the depths of his glass. "Go back tobed."
"I need to have a talkwith you, Patrick."
"It's a shame about RuelMacClaren's brother. I don't think he's going to—"
"It shouldn't havehappened, Patrick"
"It was an accident. Itwas that goddamn river." He took a sip of whiskey. "Bad luck. Youknow accidents happen all the time."
"Not like this one."
His hand tightened on hisglass. "Why are you nagging me? Haven't I got enough to worry about? Themaharajah is raging mad that we lost his train and swearing he won't payme."
"I don't care about themaharajah." She tried to steady her voice. "There's a dying man inthis house, a good man."
"I couldn't helpit," Patrick said defensively. "Who would have thought the riverwould have enough force to cause the supports to vibrate that much? It shouldhave been all right."
"I saw the rails,Patrick."
He glanced away from her andtook a swallow of his whiskey. "I don't know what you're talkingabout."
"One of the rails brokewhen we started over the gorge. Those rails were supposed to be of thefinest-grade steel, but I went back and took a look at them. They weren't likethe rails we'd used on the rest of track. They were iron, not steel.Iron,Patrick.You know iron won't support the same kind of stress as steel. Those rails hadalready been weakened by the constant vibration caused by the river hitting thesupports, and when the train started across the bridge, the weight madethem—" She stopped, staring at him in astonishment.
Tears were running downPatrick's cheeks. "I didn't want this to happen. I thought it would be allright. It was such a short stretch of track. It should have been fine. I spenttoo much on the brass for the locomotive and I couldn't get another loan. Ididn'twantanyone to die."
"Oh, Patrick," shewhispered. She had hoped he would tell her she was wrong and give her abelievable explanation.
"I made a mistake,"Patrick said. "But I'm going to pay for it. I'm ruined, Jane. No one willever hire me again when they hear the maharajah blames me for whathappened."
She felt sick. "I can'tfeel sorry for you, Patrick."
He nodded quickly. "I'llnever forgive myself if that man dies."
She wasn't sure she couldforgive him even if Ian lived.
"You won't tell anyoneabout the rails? I told the maharajah it was an unavoidable accident caused bythe vibration, that it was the river's fault... " He added quickly,"It was partly true."
"I won't tellanyone," she said wearily. "You may be guilty, but it was my faulttoo. I thought it strange you wanted to take over the construction after thoserails were delivered, but I wanted to believe you were… " She trailed offas her own guilt overwhelmed her. If she had followed her instincts, Ianwouldn't be lying in that room on the point of death. She would have seen thoserails and known the danger they posed.
"That's my girl," hesaid, relieved. "And in the meantime, we'll do everything we can to helpthat poor man."
"I don't want youhere," she whispered.
"What?"
"I can't look at youright now." Her tone sounded hard, she realized, yet she didn't feel hard,only hollow. "Pack your bag and go to the Officers' Club."
Patrick flushed, his eyeswidening in astonishment. "But I… " He met her gaze and then saidlamely, "If you're sure that's what you want."
"That's what Iwant." She turned and left the veranda.
The darkness was fading andIan could see a warm, loving light beckoning, welcoming him.
"I know you're awake,Ian. Open your eyes, dammit."
It was Ruel's voice again,demanding, cajoling, talking to him, always talking, taking him away from thelight.
"Tired."
