After eight idyllic months in the Mediterranean, Lady Julia Grey and her detective husband are ready to put their investigative talents to work once more. At the urging of Julia's eccentric family, they hurry to India to aid an old friend, the newly widowed Jane Cavendish. Living on the Cavendish tea plantation with the remnants of her husband's family, Jane is consumed with the impending birth of her child--and with discovering the truth about her husband's death. Was he murdered for his estate? And if he was, could Jane and her unborn child be next?
Amid the lush foothills of the Himalayas, dark deeds are buried and malicious thoughts flourish. The Brisbanes uncover secrets and scandal, illicit affairs and twisted legacies. In this remote and exotic place, exploration is perilous and discovery, deadly. The danger is palpable and, if they are not careful, Julia and Nicholas will not live to celebrate their first anniversary.
Showing 1-1 of the 1 most recent reviews
1 . This is a series book, so make sure you read the first ones. These were really great reads!!
Posted June 28, 2011 by Angela , Sapulpan/a
September 27, 2010
Number of Print Pages*
Adobe DRM EPUB
* Number of eBook pages may differ. Click here for more information.
Excerpt from Dark Road to Darjeeling by Deanna Raybourn
Mother, let us imagine we are travelling, and passing through a strange and dangerous country.
--The Hero Rabindranath Tagore
Somewhere in the foothills of the Himalayas, 1889
"I thought there would be camels," I protested. "I thought there would be pink marble palaces and dusty deserts and strings of camels to ride. Instead there is this." I waved a hand toward the motley collection of bullocks, donkeys, and one rather bored-looking elephant that had carried us from Darjeeling town. I did not look at the river. We were meant to cross it, but one glance had decided me firmly against it.
"I told you it was the Himalayas. It is not my fault the nearest desert is almost a thousand miles away. Do not blame me for your feeble grasp of geography," my elder sister, Portia, said by way of reproof. She gave a theatrical sigh. "For heaven's sake, Julia, don't be difficult. Climb onto the floating buffalo and let's be off. We are meant to cross this river before nightfall." Portia folded her arms across her chest and stared at me repressively I stood my ground. "Portia, a floating buffalo is hardly a proper mode of transport. Now, I grant you, I did not expect Indian transportation to run to plush carriages and steam trains, but you must own this is a bit primitive by any standards," I said, pointing with the tip of my parasol to the water's edge where several rather nasty-looking rafts had been fashioned by means of lashing inflated buffalo hides to odd bits of lumber. The hides looked hideously lifelike, as if the buffalo had merely rolled onto their backs for a bit of slumber, but bloated, and as the wind changed I noticed they gave off a very distinctive and unpleasant smell.
Portia blanched a little at the odour, but stiffened her resolve. "Julia, we are Englishwomen. We are not cowed by a little authentic local flavour."
I felt my temper rising, the result of too much travel and too much time spent in proximity to my family. "I have just spent the better part of a year exploring the most remote corners of the Mediterranean during my honeymoon. It is not the 'local flavour' that concerns me. It is the possibility of death by drowning," I added, nodding toward the ominous little ripples in the grey-green surface of the broad river.
Our brother Plum, who had been watching the exchange with interest, spoke up with uncharacteristic firmness. "We are crossing the river and we shall do it now, even if I have to put the pair of you on my shoulders and walk across it." His temper had risen faster than my own, but I could not entirely blame him. He had been ordered by our father, the Earl March, to accompany his sisters to India, and the experience had proven less than pleasant thus far.
Portia's mouth curved into a smile. "Have you added walking on water to your talents, dearest?" she asked nastily. "I would have thought that beyond the scope of even your prodigious abilities."
Plum rose to the bait and they began to scrap like a pair of feral cats, much to the amusement of our porters who began to wager quietly upon the outcome.
"Enough!" I cried, stopping my ears with my hands. I had listened to their quarrels since they had run me to ground in Egypt, and I was heartily sick of them both. I summoned my courage and strode to the nearest raft, determined to set an example of English rectitude for my siblings. "Come on then," I ordered, a touch smugly. "It's the merest child's play."
I turned to look, pleased to see they had left off their silly bickering.
"Julia--" Portia began.
I held up a hand. "No more. Not another word from either of you."
"But--" Plum started.
I stared him down. "I am quite serious, Plum. You have been...