Page 114 of A Modest Independence

Mira offered no reply.

Jenny didn’t press her. She refused to manage the girl, no matter how much she might wish to organize her life—and Ahmad’s. There would be time enough to worry about the future of her two servants. For now, she must keep her attention on the task at hand. On Jhansi and on Giles.

And on what she was going to do about her feelings for Tom.

The dak journey to Jhansi was a hot and tedious business with stops every five miles for the horses to be changed. By the time they arrived on the outskirts of the walled city, Tom was dusty, tired, and thoroughly parched from the heat.

The things one does for love.

And it was love that had prompted him to persuade Jenny to continue their quest. He needed more time with her. More stolen moments in carriages and hotel rooms. It was the only way he could see to winning her.

As for Giles, Tom had only the faintest hope the man was alive.

He found them rooms at a tumbledown guest house not far from the infamous stone fort. Like many of the buildings in Jhansi, it showed signs of the devastation wrought during the siege. But it was comfortable enough, the beds clean and the food hot and plentiful.

In the morning, after a restless night in which Tom could scarcely sleep for the heat, he and Jenny met at breakfast in the establishment’s modest dining room. Ahmad and Mira joined them.

The proprietor of the guest house, a native gentleman by the name of Mr. Bhat, poured their tea. “Lieutenant-Colonel Tremaine is head officer,” he said in heavily accented English.

“Do you know if he was here during the siege?” Tom asked.

“No, sahib.” Mr. Bhat bowed to them and left. He was friendly enough, but showed no inclination to discuss the tragic events of two years before.

Tom sighed. “I’ll send a note round to Tremaine, then. Unless any of you have a better idea?”

Jenny sat across from him, clad in a simple dress of rose-colored muslin. Her skin, so pale and fair at the beginning of their journey, had taken on a healthy bronze glow. Along with her glistening auburn hair, it gave her a look of greater than usual vibrancy. Like a candle in full flame.

Tom inwardly grimaced at the fanciful thought. He was smitten, that’s what he was. Foolishly, so. He must be to be having such thoughts at this time of day.

“If he wasn’t here during the siege,” she said, “perhaps he’ll be able to direct us to someone who was?”

“We can but ask him.” Tom finished his tea. “While we do,” he said, addressing Ahmad, “you may as well question some of the townspeople.”

Ahmad lowered his fork. “The daguerreotype would help. If they remember him, it probably won’t be by name.”

“Of course.” Jenny rose from her chair, crumpling her napkin onto her plate. “I’ll go and fetch it.”

An hour later, less both servants and one daguerreotype, Tom and Jenny were seated in Lieutenant-Colonel Tremaine’s office inside what remained of the Fort of Jhansi. It was a decaying structure, the fortifications having never been repaired after the siege.

Tremaine surveyed the two of them from over the top of his wooden desk, his fingers steepled in front of him. He was a rangy gentleman, rapidly approaching middle age. “Naturally I remember Castleton. He was a fine soldier. A good man. His death was a great blow to all who knew him.”

“But you weren’t here in Jhansi at the time of the siege,” Jenny said. “Were you?”

“No indeed, ma’am. I arrived later to assist in restoring order. However, I’ve read Colonel Anstruther’s report and have no reason to find fault with it.”

Tom hadn’t expected any different. Nevertheless… “Were there no additional accounts given of Lord Castleton’s death?” he asked. “No details reported by other soldiers or the townspeople?”

“Why should there be when we had an eyewitness? No, sir. Anstruther’s word was sufficient. I’ve learned not to doubt it.”

“Do you know the colonel well, sir?” Jenny asked.

“I count him as a friend, yes. More than that, I have enormous respect for the man. He’s done more to protect Her Majesty’s interests in India than one hundred soldiers combined.” Tremaine moved as if to rise. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Miss Holloway. Had you written in advance, I might have spared you the journey.”

Jenny remained in her seat. “I understand that Colonel Anstruther was taken ill after the siege.”

Tremaine lips thinned in irritation. “I may have heard something to that effect.”

“Because of the heat, he said.” She looked at Tom, as if for confirmation.