Ch 2

Fifteen years before the opera fire….

The first night he had seen her was on the parapet at sunset. She had stood in a throng of other women in her family. There were all dressed in red saris with gold thread creating elaborate designs. She and her youngest sister had been feeding crackers to caged songbirds. Through the bars she had watched him and he had watched her in a distant but dangerous tango.

Even though it wasn't so, Erik could not imagine such a fair creature within a cage. She may not have been as contained as the songbirds but the engagement had not yet been accepted. That would seal her fate, clip her wings, make her intangible.

But no less desirable.

Pandir Patel had not been exaggerating when he had boasted of seven lovely daughters.

"Fruitless pursuits, Erik," Ravi commented. "Fruitless, dangerous pursuits."

Erik turned to see Ravi Shah standing behind him. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough to recognize trouble brewing," Ravi replied. He was dressed in black from head to foot with his shiny dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. The young man was smirking which seemed to soften his sharp features, bringing out his dimples.

"The birds are quite beautiful though the fountains are a bit garish. Not the most flattering considering the rest of the parapet."

"How did you notice birds and fountains when you have been staring at Anisha all night?" Ravi questioned. He stepped forward with his hands behind his back and nudged Erik with his shoulder. "You are to design her palace, not fill it with absurd dreams."

"I'd rather fill her bed at night and her house with children," Erik murmured.

"That is for Girish to do. Come on before she sees you standing there," Ravi urged. He started to walk away but stopped, noticing the young architect had not moved. "Erik," he warned.

Erik refused to stop staring. He had been in India for a month and not once seen this young woman. She had been away with her aunts meeting her betrothed for the first year. Her father, Pandir Patel, had agreed to his oldest daughter that he would not finalize the arrangements until she met Girish Baleeze.

"I thought we were friends, Ravi?"

"Friends? You have no friends here, not in India. You are a guest in the Patel house but nothing more. Stare at her a moment longer and you'll be buried in a column you designed."

Erik brazenly stared across the way and met the black-haired woman's eye. He tempted fate with a slight bow and a crooked grin at his employer's oldest daughter. He had not yet met the girl but he knew she was a sought-after delicacy to the boys around Dareesh. In the month he had been in the seaside city he had heard several young builders say 'more precious than water is a child belonging to Patel.' Now Erik saw why. He had thought the sunrise over the Bay of Bengal to be magnificent. Nothing compared to this goddess, aside from perhaps seeing her at sunrise.

Anisha glanced coyly away at the bold gesture. She took her sister by the hand and whispered something with her hand to her face. The two girls giggled and turned back to their female relatives. They waited their turn to head into the reception room below where the engagement was to be announced. Before the group descended down into the palace, Anisha looked back once at Erik and smiled, her black eyes twinkling.

That was the first time he had seen Anisha Patel. Despite the twisting in his gut he would be damned if it would be the last.


Corinna Desai was a rare breed. Her mother was part Spaniard and part Dutch, which gave her a long nose and arched brows. Her father was Indian, which gave her coal black hair and her standoffish disposition towards members of her own sex.

Ravi Shah had teased her that she had come on the same shipment as their new architect guest. She had rolled her eyes at the assumption but made no attempt to distance herself from the Parisian. At least not while her father was still in Goa

"Have you tried the lassi?" she questioned as she slid onto the marble bench beside Erik. She held out her cup of mango milk and Erik turned away. "What? It's good."

He held up a cup of tea and half-smiled. "I'm fine with Earl Grey," he replied. "Now I feel at home."

Corinna turned her head to the side and waited for him to look at her. She could see the torchlight reflecting off of his light eyes, burnishing his nose and forehead with golden hues. He had sat in the same place for an hour and done nothing but watch the dances, refusing to drink and ignoring the other guests. He was staring only at Anisha Patel.

The young girl's irritation grew as he further ignored her in favor of her cousin. "They are dancing the dhamail for the expected proposal. Do you know this song?"

Erik glanced at Corinna. "I don't know any of the dances. I haven't been here long enough to acquire the proper teacher."

"It's called Amar chittey nishidh," Corinna purred. "The song of the woman so besotted with love that her family thought she had been bitten by a snake."

Erik snorted. "Sounds ridiculous."

Corinna rested her head on his shoulder. She half-expected he would sit her upright but he didn't move. He was too involved in watching Girish Baleeze and Padir Patel exchange pleasantries to know that she had put her cheek to his. "Maybe in Europe your people don't know that venom can be removed from a wound but love cannot be removed from the heart," she whispered.

Erik pulled away and glanced at Corinna. Every woman in the room had stared at her with cruel, disapproving eyes all night long. She sat too close to a man who was not her husband, laughed too loud at jests they did not understand. If her father had been here to witness her antics with his own eyes most certainly he would have ordered her stoned to death or shipped back to London.

"I thought you were not allowed to partake in libations," Erik commented. He had meant it as a jest but his words fell flat.

"I'm not. Lassi has only mangoes nothing more." She moved in closer and grinned against his freshly shaven face. "Monsieur, I thought you were not allowed to stare at Anisha all night."

He shot her an angry glance but held his tongue. The other guests had started to applaud the dancing. He stood and did the same, eyes locked on the woman imminently announced as a bride.

Corinna sat back and regarded him. Erik thought he was a genius, which in part he was. Out of seven architects commissioned by the Patel Family he was the youngest. He was also the cockiest.

Erik and Corinna had known each other for two months now, which as far as Corinna was concerned was as good as a lifetime. They had both sailed together from England where Erik had humored Corinna and her companion, Ursula. They had been the only two women aboard the ship under the age of fifty and had proven easily entertained. Naturally, as a man of twenty, he had sought them out knowing they would bat their eyes and giggle at whatever he said.

"Have you seen the tigers?" Corinna asked suddenly. "I heard her father had a mating pair delivered to his palace."

"What of it?" Erik snapped.

Corinna shrugged. "They were beautiful. It's a shame they'll be caged and forgotten when something new comes along."

"I don't care about tigers. Child, you are exhausting. Isn't there anyone else you would rather bother tonight?"

Her eyes widened. "Bother?"

"That isn't what I—"

With a pout Corinna rose and sauntered away, dipping her hand into the nearest fountain and flicking her damp fingers towards Anisha. There was an apology in need of being delivered, Erik knew, one that would have to wait until later in the night.

Monsieur Desai would disapprove of his daughter being treated so, especially by a wretch he had picked up in Persia.