a/n Not that anyone was concerned by it but FYI nonetheless: the town of Dareesh is completely fictional. There is no place that I know of outside of Calcutta called Dareesh. I hope you are enjoying the exotic locale. Thank you for reading and reviewing. Letting me know that you're out there is so important and much appreciated!

Ch 3

The night grew longer and the crowd swelled with new guests coming to see the engagement announced. Family and friends were moved down from the rooftop patio as rain scented the breeze. Erik had seen servants scrambling to take the caged birds down to shelter as they cleared a small table of refreshments and hurried chairs down to the main room.

Erik thought the setting sun would have been a beautiful backdrop to an engagement, though Girish Baleeze was waiting until midnight to ask Padir Patel for his daughter's hand. Even so, Erik preferred the parapet lined with flowers and potted plants and the fountains providing the music of falling water.

People brushed up against Erik's back and sides as they flowed through the room. Music played softly in the background from one of the many smaller rooms down the narrow southern hall.

Pandir Patel had acquired a taste for chamber music and had insisted that several musicians from Italy be brought in for the engagement. Three years spent in Europe had refined his taste. In passing Erik had heard someone mutter that Pandir must have traded his textiles and spices for British blood.

The room where the couple was to be announced was lit by an iron chandelier in the center of the vaulted ceiling. Two tiers blazed with rings of fire, sending off waves of heat and dancing shadows in the rectangular room.

The long windows on either side had been opened, and the tangerine gossamer curtains swayed with the western breeze. Had there not been smaller rooms down the hall to compensate for the increasing attendance it would have been unbearably stuffy. Erik wasn't sure what had been in the rooms before the engagement party. There were only paintings on the walls and wooden chairs for guests to sit. Erik had found himself impressed by an original French painting hanging in one room. He recognized it immediately and smirked at the sight. Undoubtedly someone had purchased the painting for the exotic beauty not knowing that Jean-Leon Gerome had painted a prostitute.

More and more people entered back into the main room as the hours passed. Torches in the far hall made them into faceless, murmuring shadows. All of the food and drink were in the larger room where Erik and the majority of Padir Patel's family mingled.

This was how an engagement should be, Erik thought. The flowers made the air sweet, the lighting added to the romance and the music drifting from various rooms made the atmosphere all the more exotic. He closed his eyes briefly and inhaled deeply. He had never experienced anything quite like this.

"So what do you think?" Ravi asked as he walked up to Erik and nodded at the crowd. He handed the young architect a glass of wine. "Impressive, isn't it?"

"It's interesting, I'll give you that."

Ravi chuckled to himself. "Always so enigmatic. I trust you'll have more to say to Pandir than you do to me. Remember he enjoys flattery on everything save his daughters—his nearly married daughters, I might add."

Erik made no reply. He crossed his arms over his chest and watched the women float by.

Erik stood apart from the crowd. He was the only one dressed as a European. He had not yet given up a fine white shirt, maroon brocade waistcoat and overcoat. The cravat he had tossed aside but only because Corinna had bumped his elbow and splashed wine on it.

The rest of the men, be them from India or across the sea, wore sherwanis, finely embroidered traditional garments that looked like long, elaborate tunics. The detail was astounding and Erik found himself admiring each colleague that walked up to greet him. He smirked to himself that it was nearly impossible to tell one from the next as they all wore either black or creamy whites. Only the patterns in gold thread distinguished one man from the next.

The women were dressed more lavishly than their husbands, brothers and sons. Most of them wore saris of rich reds and deep blues. Only one had strayed from the color scheme. Corinna stood out in a sari the color of a lime peel. It wasn't enough that she spoke with a British accent. The girl had to make herself known.

Anisha entered the room on the arm of her father to a flutter of applause. She bent down to greet her grandmother by touching her foot. Erik found it almost irritating that such a goddess would be forced to kneel before anyone. She should have been placed on dais and worshipped.

"Her fiancé is a wealthy man, one of the biggest exporters of gold and diamonds in India. She will be quite happy with Girish."

Erik twisted to face Ravi. "What's that in her hair? Is it gold?"

Ravi craned his neck to look at Anisha and nodded. "Of course it is gold. This is India, isn't it? Or do you think you're still in Europe?"

Erik turned back to watch Anisha greet even more relatives.

Ravi walked up beside Erik and gave an exaggerated sigh. "It's called a mangatika. It's a symbol of marriage. Ornamentation, really, nothing more than a clip at the hairline to signify she is to be wed."

"But she isn't engaged yet."

Ravi glanced at his pocket watch. It was a gift from Pandir to his favorite nephew and lavishly adorned with Ravi's initials. "Not yet. But in two hours she will be. Why don't you have Pandir introduce you to some of his family members? I'm sure he would love to show them his newest fancy."

"How very condescending of you," Erik chuckled.

"What? You don't believe me? You are little more than a monkey providing entertainment to its master. All you need are a pair of symbols."

Erik shook his head and followed Ravi. From the corner of his eye he caught sight of his reflection in the long mirror across the room. He enjoyed that he stood out from the crowd in his European garb and combed back hair. It would make it easier for Anisha to see him in the throng, he thought wickedly.

Erik ran his hands over his hair and tucked a stray lock of dark blond hair behind his ear. It had been nearly two months since he had seen a barber and it was starting to show. With a smirk at his own image, he straightened his lapels and pulled at his cuffs.

Someone else was staring. He could feel the eyes on him.

"Corinna," he muttered. She had come back seeking an apology, no doubt.

Erik brushed his hands down his overcoat and caught a flash of red to his right in the mirror. Another set of eyes stared back at him.

"My father says you are a genius."

The intended bride's presence startled him. He smiled smoothly and turned to greet Anisha. It was the first time he had seen her unaccompanied by a family member all evening.

Before Erik had time to speak he found Ravi instantly at her side. Erik offered a short bow to the young woman and ignored his guide and translator.

Ravi took his cousin's arm. "Anisha, I don't believe you have properly met your father's guest. This is—"

"I know who he is. I saw Father introducing him to Grandfather earlier in the evening," she replied before her cousin could finish. She smiled warmly at her cousin when she spoke. "Father says he is not only an architect but a musician."

"Your father is too kind," Erik replied. He stared unabashedly at the woman. Her eyes were rimmed in black and there was a dark spot on her forehead. Ravi had told him casually that all children from the time they are six days old were marked with a dark spot on their forehead. Marring their beauty was thought to keep away bad spirits.

Nothing could have marred Anisha's beauty. Not even kajal.

"My father only praises those he finds worthy." Her posture shifted, hips turning so that she was closer to Erik without moving.

"Anisha, you are too bold for your own good," Ravi replied. He pulled her closer. "Those years in London have not yet left you, have they?"

"London?" Erik questioned. He hadn't noticed a British accent.

"Father spoils us," she smiled. "So you met my uncle in Persia?"

Erik felt his lips straighten. So that was the story they had settled on. They had met in Persia. Erik nodded quickly. "We traveled first to Europe and then here. He's been very good to me. I can't thank him enough."

"And you met my cousin Corinna as well?"

"Yes. I escorted her from London here on her father's command."

Ravi stiffened as the conversation continued. "Perhaps, Anisha, you would care to introduce your father's newest discovery to your intended?" He glared at Erik briefly before offering his cousin a placid smile.

"Of course," Anisha agreed. Her onyx eyes flashed to Erik. "Come with me, monsieur. Girish will be most pleased to meet the man building our home."

Girish Baleeze was unusually tall for an Indian. He and Erik stood relatively the same height, though Girish had a longer torso and shorter legs. He also had olive green eyes which struck Erik as being strangely hypnotizing on such a dark face. It was difficult to hate such a prominent looking man though Erik found a spike of jealousy resonating through his chest.

The handsome fiancée took Erik by the wrist and shook his hand. "Mr. Patel has said so much about you. I'm pleased to finally meet you."

"And you as well."

"How do you like Dareesh so far?" Girish questioned.

"It's different."

"He came into port with my cousin Corinna," Anisha added.

"How long have you been here?"

"Four weeks," Erik answered.

"Have you seen much?"

"No."

"A man of few words, I see?"

"I'm afraid so."

Girish glanced around the room until he found Corinna speaking with Anisha's father. They were standing near the doorway leading up to the parapet where the crowd had been earlier in the evening.

"I trust you had a pleasant voyage to my country?"

"Pleasant enough."

"For a Frenchman you are unique. I've never seen one of your kind so tight-lipped."

"I'm not originally from France."

Girish smiled uncomfortably. "Well I'm sure the journey must have seemed twice as long with Corinna onboard. It amazed me that you survived—and that you did not toss her overboard," he laughed.

Erik's green eyes narrowed on Girish Baleeze. As much as Corinna irritated him this night he was fond of her. She was gregarious but pleasant and highly educated for a woman of her descent.

"Why would you say that?" Erik questioned.

Girish grunted. "I've met her before."

"And?"

Girish laughed to himself and crossed his arms. "What is there to say? Every man in this room would agree she talks too much for her own good."

"Not all men," Erik replied. He glanced at Ravi and Anisha and gave another short bow. "Enjoy your evening. Best of luck to you both."

Without another word he turned and headed for the stairs.