She thought she'd like his two younger brothers, but his sister sounded alarming. Ian finished describing Juliet just as they reached the stables behind the Stephenson bungalow.
As they dismounted, Laura said, "Let's see if I have this right. Your sister is a redheaded Amazon who can outride most men, shoot the whiskers off a mountain goat, then put on an evening gown and reduce every man in sight to languishing sighs?"
He smiled. "That's not quite what I said."
"Close enough," Laura said as she handed her reins to the groom. "She sounds terrifying,"
"I think you'll get along with her very well. Better than..." He stopped abruptly.
"Better than whom?" She took his arm, thinking that the era of keeping her distance was over, and good riddance.
After a pause, Ian said, "Better than most women would. You both have unconventional streaks. While it's more obvious in her case, I think you'll understand each other very well."
"I'm not at all unconventional," Laura protested. "I'm one of the most unremarkable of women."
As they entered the bungalow, he turned that too-perceptive gaze on her. "That's not true. You are something of an original. I wonder why it bothers you to admit it."
He'd been honest with her; she owed him honesty in return. With some difficulty, she said, "When I came to England, I didn't enjoy being a strange little Russian. At school, the other girls laughed at my accent and my peculiar slanty eyes. I couldn't change my eyes, but I did my best to become as much like everyone else as possible. I was happier not being singled out."
"You can be a strange little Russian with me," Ian said. "I like that aspect of you. And I think your eyes are beautiful."
As his gaze met hers, Laura felt a glow of warmth that started in her heart and gradually spread until it encompassed her whole being. Her stepfather had loved her, but Ian was the first person to say that he actually liked the Russian side of her. Perhaps that was why the Larissa Alexandrovna who still lived inside Laura Stephenson had instantly wanted to accept him.
To be grateful for his injury was unthinkable. If Laura could wave a wand to restore him, she would have done it in an instant, even though it would mean that they couldn't marry.
But she couldn't change Ian any more than he could bring the late Lord Falkirk back to life. So she took her own advice and rejoiced in the fate that had brought them together.
* * *
For the next week, Laura was so busy that she had little time to grieve for her stepfather. The other Britons in Baipur accepted her betrothal with pleasure. Emily McKittrick observed that Ian was a bit overserious, but she had no doubt that he would make a splendid husband.
Even Emery Walford sent Laura a short, awkward note wishing her happiness. Then he set off on a district tour of his own so he needn't attend the wedding.
The Reverend James was notified and the wedding scheduled for the next week. Aided by the other two British women at the station, Laura spent the intervening time dismantling the life she had lived in Baipur. Ian arranged for the transportation of the items Laura wanted to keep. Her trunks would be carted to Benares, floated down the Ganges on a barge, then shipped to Edinburgh from Calcutta. Even the tiger skin would be forwarded when it arrived from Nanda.
Before Laura was quite ready for it, her wedding day arrived. Emily McKittrick, who had only sons, had entered into the preparations with enthusiasm. As unofficial mother-of-the-bride, she organized details and expressed regrets that the wedding would be such a small one.
With the help of her maid and Emily, Laura donned her best day dress, a high-necked ivory-colored gown with lace trim and swooping bell-shaped sleeves. Small white rosebuds from her garden were twined through her hair, and she carried a bouquet of brilliantly colored Indian blossoms.
Both Laura's attendants assured her that she was as beautiful as a bride could be, a compliment that she took with a large dose of salt. What she did know was that she was as nervous as a bride was supposed to be.
Judge McKittrick had offered to give Laura away. As he led her down the aisle of the small Christian chapel, her heart was hammering so loudly that she was sure the spectators must hear it. When panic threatened to overwhelm her, Laura fiercely reminded herself that this marriage would be essentially different from that of her parents. She was not like her mother, nor was Ian like her father. She and Ian were levelheaded adults, and together they would build a safe, sane relationship.
But her unpersuaded heart banged even harder when she saw Ian waiting at the altar, tall and dark-coated and stern. What on earth was she doing? In most ways, he was still a stranger. In fact, she only had his word for the fact that he was incapable of marital relations. What if she was the victim of a diabolical plan to lure her into matrimony?