"I suppose. But you made everything much easier." She gazed into the fire. "Strange how quickly things can change. A day and a half ago I had a life and a family. Now they're both gone. I'll find something to fill in the empty spaces, but I have no idea what. The idea is a bit frightening."
Ian frowned as he held the gun barrel to the fire, peering through it to check for cleanliness. "You've no family at all?"
"Pyotr Andreyovich was the last. I suppose there are some distant cousins in Russia, but none that I remember. My first father was an only child, so there are no near relations on that side. My mother had two older brothers, but one, Sergei, died fighting Napoleon before I was born, and Uncle Pyotr never married. So now there is just me."
"What about Stephenson's family? They may not be blood relations, but you've been one of them for years."
Laura's mouth hardened. "They didn't really approve of his marriage to a wild Russian. My mother was too dramatic and unconventional for them—like a peacock among pigeons. She and I were tolerated for my stepfather's sake, but never welcomed."
Ian began to reassemble the shotgun. "It's hard to imagine having no relatives. I don't see mine very often, but knowing that they exist is a kind of anchor in the world."
"Be grateful they're an anchor, not a millstone."
"I've some of both sorts." He gave a faint smile that softened his features. "Do you have plans for the future, Miss Stephenson? Or haven't you had time to think about that?"
"If I'm to call you Ian, you must call me Laura." She smiled wryly. "I've only known you for a day, but it seems much longer."
"You don't like the name Lara? Pyotr always called you that, and the name suits you. It's unusual."
"I'd really prefer Laura. I'm used to it, and besides, there's nothing unusual about me," she said uneasily. "I'm a thoroughly unremarkable female. As for plans... I really don't know. My father left me a bit of income, enough for me to survive, but not much more, so I suppose I'll go to a city and look for employment. I'd make a decent teacher or governess, and the work would save me from boredom. After running my father's household for years, I'm used to being busy."
"That sort of menial job would be burdensome for a woman used to being independent." He hesitated a moment. "I know it's none of my business, but marriage and family are what most women want. It's to your credit that you chose to make a home for your stepfather, but now he's gone. India must be full of men who would be honored if you would accept them. In return, you would have comfort, family, and the security of being loved."
He sounded just like her stepfather. Laura recalled that she had told Kenneth that she would look for a husband if he died. She dismissed the promise; she had given it only for his peace of mind. Wanting to avoid the topic of marriage, she said, "I don't know if I'll stay in India. I might return to England."
He reassembled the shotgun, the barrel locking into place with a decisive snap. "Then you won't want a husband whose career will keep him here. But for a woman as attractive as you, there will be eager suitors wherever you go."
Though the words were a compliment, his manner was so detached as to be downright irritating. He might say she was attractive, but he certainly didn't act as if he believed his own words. Tartly she said, "To be honest, I really don't wish to tie myself to a husband. I've gotten along without one perfectly well for twenty-four years and I don't see the need to marry now. I'm quite capable of taking care of myself."
He gave her an appraising glance. "You sound like a woman who has been pestered on this subject before. My apologies."
He saw more with one eye than most people saw with two. Hastily Laura said, "Are we leaving for Baipur in the morning? I was so distracted yesterday that I didn't make any preparations, but there's no reason to stay here any longer."
He lifted her father's rifle and began to break it down for cleaning. "Unfortunately there's still the man-eater. With your father gone, the responsibility for killing it has devolved on me—this afternoon the headman asked if I'd have a go at it."
"I'd forgotten about the tiger," she admitted. "Tracking the man-eater could take days or weeks."
"I'm afraid so," he said apologetically. "You might prefer to return to Baipur with your servants rather than wait for me to escort you. While I won't stay here indefinitely, I should try for at least a fortnight before giving up."
Laura hesitated, feeling that the decision of whether to stay or go back alone was beyond her. "I'll wait and see. Perhaps you'll shoot the beast on your first attempt."