"You, Kamala?" Laura was so surprised that she stopped walking. It seemed impossible to reconcile such a terrible death with the serene, beautiful woman beside her.
The maharani smiled gently, as if talking to a child. "When Rajiv dies, my spirit will die with him. What is the point of preserving my body when we can be together in death and also in our next lives? When the time comes, I will go without doubts."
"I hope it doesn't come anytime soon," Laura said fervently.
"Srinivasa says we have many years still." After a few more steps, she added, "There is an old tale of a Rajput princess whose husband was called to battle on their wedding day. He was killed, and the next day she went to the pyre with him, virgin, bride, and widow, her nuptial flowers fresh on her breast."
Laura shivered a little. "That is a story of great power, but I am too much of the West to truly appreciate it. I would rather live for my husband, or even die to preserve his life, than follow him into death."
"Then live fully and without fear, Laura," the maharani said gently. "For him, and for yourself."
They emerged from the woods onto the wide green lawn that surrounded a small open pavilion. Laura was admiring the structure when she saw a flicker of movement from the corner of her eye. She turned her head, expecting to see a deer or monkey, then inhaled in horror.
Somehow a black panther had gotten into the park. Swift as dark lightning, it bounded across the green turf toward the two women, its lithe muscles fluid with power. Struggling to keep panic from her voice, she gasped, "Kamala, we're in danger!"
"Do not fear, Laura," the maharani said quickly.
The panther swerved around Laura, then gathered its feet together and leaped straight at the maharani. Before Laura could scream for help, she saw that the panther was not biting, but butting. It drove its round head into Kamala's ribs so hard that she was almost knocked from her feet. Smiling, the maharani began roughly scratching behind the sleek ebony ears.
Incredulously Laura said, "It's a pet?"
"I'm sorry you were frightened, Laura," Kamala said contritely. "I forgot that you had never met Tika. Black panthers are very rare, and another rajah gave her to me when she was a kitten. I kept Tika in the palace when she was small. Now that she's full-grown, she has very fine quarters in the park. But whenever she scents me, she leaps the fence and comes immediately. Come, rub her chin. She is very fond of that."
Her heart still pounding with reaction, Laura obeyed and was rewarded with a very loud, very unnerving, rumble of pleasure. Not a true purr, she decided, perhaps panthers weren't equipped for that. More of a focused growl, a sound that would have terrified anyone hearing it outdoors at night.
Laura had heard that black panthers were a variation of the regular leopard, and now she saw that the leopard pattern did indeed show up as blacker spots on the glossy fur. It was all most interesting. As Laura scratched the panther's chin, it closed its eyes in ecstasy and leaned into her hand so hard that she had to brace herself. It was much like a tabby cat, only larger.
Much, much larger.
Kamala glanced up from her pet. "Passion is very like this," she said seriously. "Treat it as a wild beast and it has the power to destroy you. But make it your friend and it becomes a source of great pleasure.''
Laura looked down at the panther and smiled. "Perhaps Srinivasa was correct in saying that there are no accidents. Certainly Tika came at a perfect time to illustrate your advice."
The panther was more than an illustration; it was an omen. As the two women resumed their walk to the palace, the panther twining between them, Laura realized, with a heady mixture of fear, determination, and hope, that she was going to follow Kamala's advice and try to make passion her friend. Then, God willing, she and Ian would find peace together.
Chapter 27
The maharani was making perfume. Her labors filled her private sitting room with a dizzying blend of aromas—flowers and spice, sandalwood and herbs. Not quite satisfied, Kamala blended a single drop of oil into her latest mixture, sniffed the result, then sighed rapturously. "Finally," Holding the ceramic bowl to Laura, she said, "What do you think?"
After inhaling, Laura said, "Mmm, what a wonderful fragrance! Delicate, yet sensual."
Kamala nodded with satisfaction. "A truly fine perfume must express the wearer, and this one is perfect for you. It evokes innocent dawn and sultry night, ravishing a man's senses with both lust and tenderness."
"I hope so," Laura said. "It's wonderful of you to make such an effort on my behalf."
"I enjoy making perfume. I've often thought that if I had not been born a Rajput princess, I would have done well in a caste of perfumers." Kamala summoned a servant from the far end of the room and gave orders for the scent to be bottled. "I'll write down the recipe so that you can make it in England. A woman should have a special scent for her person and garments. It will haunt her husband even when she is not there."