“Do you know where you’re going?” Patrick asked.
“It isn’t much farther,” she said. “I’ve already been there once today.”
Patrick pulled out his watch. “Once already? But it’s only seven o’clock.”
“I’m an early riser.”
“Clearly,” he said, snapping the lid closed and slipping it back in his pocket.
A group of young Indian women emerged from the fog, carrying jugs of water back to the village. They kept to the far side of the road but seemed curious about the new white visitors. As he and Linley passed by them, Patrick smiled and nodded, sending the women into a frenzy of giggles.
“Don’t think for a moment they like our being here,” Linley told him. “They tolerate the English only because they have to.”
Patrick frowned. “But they seem so friendly.”
“Yes, well, perhaps my perspective is a little different because I’ve spent the majority of my life in the colonies,” she said. “Hell, I live in a British colony, and even there I am treated with disdain.”
“Then why live there?”
She shrugged. “Malta is a nice, centralized location—close to Egypt, close to Greece, and close enough to the Far East through the Suez Canal.” For the first time in a long time, she stopped and turned to him. “But it is really very beautiful. I’d love for you to visit someday.”
“Would you?” Patrick asked.
Linley smiled. “You haven’t lived until you’ve seen the view of the Harbor from my veranda.”
“If I went to Malta, I promise you I would not be there for the view.”
Linley felt her cheeks grow warm, a habit she couldn’t seem to break since they first met. “We…uh…should really keep walking,” she said, fumbling for something to say. “Papa won’t like it if we get off to another late start.”
They walked in silence for a little while longer. Linley wished she could think of something clever to say because she enjoyed flirting with Patrick, but never knew how to react whenever he took it one step further. How could she master the fine art of flirtation when the only men she knew were more like brothers? Patrick clearly had the advantage in the situation, and that would not do at all.
“You know, when in India, there is really only one way to travel,” she said, stopping at the sound of palms rustling in the jungle.
Patrick heard it, too. He stood at her side and glanced around. “By train?”
The rustling grew louder with every second. Although they could not see anything out of the ordinary, men’s voices echoed around them, talking and shouting in a language Patrick was certain he never heard before. He turned his head, trying to decipher the words, or from which direction they came.
Linley grinned, growing more excited as he appeared all the more confused. With a loud trumpet blast, a great gray behemoth erupted from between the trees.
“By Elephant!” she cried.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Patrick stared wide-eyed as three elephants emerged from the jungle. On each of their necks, an Indian mahout sat with a large wooden staff in hand. Two were elderly men and one looked no older than twelve. They whispered something to their mounts, and the elephants raised their pink-speckled trunks and trumpeted.
Linley couldn’t stop grinning. “I told you there was only one way to travel!” she said, smacking him on the shoulder. “Do you think you’re up to it?”
He looked down at her. “I am if you are.”
The mahout called another command, and the elephant closest to them went down on one knee. Then, it sank down onto the ground. From the backs of the others, Sir Bedford and the rest of the team frowned. They sat perched in howdah baskets, loaded down with supplies.
Linley waved up at them and approached the elephant.
“Do you need a leg up?” Patrick asked her.
Seated beside Linley’s father, Archie scoffed and called down, “She doesn’t need your help! She can do it on her own.”
“Actually,” Linley said, batting her eyes at Patrick. “I could use a hand, if you would be so kind.”
He smiled down at her and placed his hands around her waist. “It would be my pleasure,” he said, lifting her onto the elephant’s back. With his help, Linley mounted with ease, but on his own, Patrick didn’t fare so well. He took a few steps backward, then got a running start, and leapt upon the great beast’s side, scrambling up onto its back.
Linley grabbed his hand and helped him into the howdah. “Not bad for a first try.”
Patrick settled himself in the basket, catching his breath. With another command from the mahout, the elephant shifted back onto its feet. The howdah lurched and swayed, and Patrick reached across the basket to steady himself. As he did so, his body brushed against Linley’s, making them both aware of the tight confines they would be traveling in together.