by Renée Dahlia
“It didn’t. The evening didn’t end well at all and it reinforced the family line. People only wanted me so they could get close to my family. I went there for me, only to discover the truth. People want my money, not me.” Priya’s voice faded away, soft and depressed. Rosalie needed to leave as an awkward silence descended inside their box. The theatre musicians began to play and the music became a striking backdrop to the atmosphere. She wanted to tell Priya that it wasn’t true, that Rosalie cared for her as a person.
“You know that’s not true.”
“It feels true.”
“You told me it wasn’t true, and you apologised to me for listening to gossip that reinforced your view. Why are we still discussing this as if it has had no resolution?”
Mr Howick cleared his throat and Rosalie held her breath, suddenly realising what she’d just revealed.
“I’m afraid that overthinking is Priya’s natural state. She cares so much about every person in the world that she’s always second guessing herself.”
“I’m right here. I did apologise for listening to gossip. The apology doesn’t take away the reminder the gossip sent me. People only want to be my friend for the connections and it’s difficult to figure out who likes me and who pretends to like me for their own advantage.”
“Priya. Stop thinking too hard about this. I love Eliza. I’m going to marry her and be happy. And I hope you find someone who makes you just as happy.”
“But?”
Mr Howick spread his hands wide and grinned. “But, what?”
“You didn’t have to say the word for me to hear it. You think that I’m not capable of finding a partner.” Priya kept her gaze low.
“That’s not what I said at all. Perhaps you will have a tougher road to happiness because...” Mr Howick drifted off and Rosalie wondered how much he knew. If he were Lord Dalhinge’s heir, he must have some awareness that relationships were possible outside those expected by society.
Priya lifted her chin and her gaze flicked between her brother and Rosalie. “Nell, Luciana, Uncle Sanjay... They’ve all found happiness. Why do you believe I won’t?”
“Don’t misconstrue my reasoning. If that is what you want, I support you. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned from Eliza, it’s that you need to let someone into your heart and trust them before you can be truly free and happy. Stop guarding yourself under a misguided attempt to protect the family business. The law is on your side now.”
“Oh, don’t talk to me about law. You and I know perfectly well that the Marriage Act is a farce that is often manipulated by men to gain the assets of the women they marry.”
“Excuse me? Why mention men? I thought we were talking about... And if that’s the case, then your shares will always be yours until you sell them or gift them in your will as you wish.” Did Mr Howick just imply that Priya owned shares in Carlingford Enterprises? Rosalie would have to proceed very carefully. It made sense for Priya to worry about everyone’s motivations for spending time with her; her ownership of Carlingford Enterprises was a very big prize for a potential partner to gain. Calculations flooded through Rosalie’s brain, unbidden, and she had to take a few breaths to shut up the thoughts. The last thing Priya needed now was to see her thinking, because it would be too easy to misconstrue it as plotting.
“None of that matters. Priya, I want to be your friend because I admire your strength. You are one of the very few people in this world who understands my position in life. Yes, you worry a lot about everything, and often your arguments go in circles and are unresolved, but that’s fine with me. I want to be your sounding board. The War Widows Charity is going to a wonderful achievement and a great legacy. Be proud of your work and your empathy. The world needs more people who care for each other, especially now as we rebuild after a devastating war.”
“I don’t want a legacy. I just want to help people.”
“That is what I meant. I’m honoured to work with you and bring opportunity to people. If you were to write a ledger of all the people you’ve helped against those you’ve hurt, you would be well in the positive.”
Priya blinked once and turned away. “No.” She mumbled something else, an indistinct muttering that Rosalie couldn’t make out.
“I don’t think that’s a helpful way of looking at this,” Mr Howick said.
“Why not?”
“There is the little matter of the war and the thousands who died either aboard our ships or because of them.” Mr Howick’s expression mirrored his sister with a depth of sadness in his eyes. Neither of them made the decision to send men to war and yet, Rosalie could see they were both cognisant of their role in the whole bloody mess. The strength of their understanding and the way they both pushed hard to make amends was admirable.
“Oh.” Rosalie hadn’t forgotten about them, not exactly, because the war was so fresh in everyone’s mind. She’d been imagining a ledger with only two people on the negative side; herself and the man who’d died at Dr Howick’s clinic; against the long list of those people Priya helped with all her philanthropic work. “None of those deaths were your personal fault, Priya. I remember the beginning of the war. We all thought it would be over quickly—” By Christmas, and there had been a heady excitement around England. Rosalie understood how they would have been drawn into the Great War without truly knowing how it would turn out. Carlingford had manufactured ships for decades prior to the war; it was only natural they would continue when the need arose.
“It doesn’t matter. Assigning blame or not doesn’t bring them back. It doesn’t fix all the hurting families. It’s a burden to me no matter how you cut the numbers.”
“Empathy is a curse as much as it is a blessing.” Mr Howick hugged his sister. Suddenly, understanding clicked into place. Priya’s inconsistencies were because she cared too much. She was always torn in different directions, trying to care for everyone except herself. Rosalie knew her role in life with a sudden clarity. She would be the one who cared for Priya, who picked her up when caring too much hurt her, and she would be the person Priya turned to when she couldn’t support herself any longer. Rosalie would never be bored with Priya because the world was boundless and there would always be more that Priya would want to do. Her passion for helping others drove her forward. She would need a friend, a lover, to refill her well of energy and ensure she didn’t run out of empathy or energy.
Chapter 11
As the curtain fell on another evening at the theatre, Priya couldn’t stop thinking about Ashwin’s comment. “Empathy is a curse as much as a blessing.” It struck her that empathy cursed the person with a surfeit of it and blessed everyone around them. Caring so deeply shouldn’t be the heavy weight she dragged around with her. There were so many people who were hurting and she was here, not only able to help them, but willing to make the effort required. Having the means to make a difference should be a blessing, so why didn’t it feel that way? She shook off the melancholy as best she could. Soon, Eliza would be here in their box and she would have to congratulate the dancer on her engagement to one of England’s most eligible. Rosalie’s gentle presence during the evening’s entertainment had given her plenty of time for self-reflection. Why did she object to Eliza? It was nothing to do with her race, if anything, Priya had some small understanding of how that impacted on the way the world likely perceived Eliza. Was it because Eliza was a dancer? Someone outside their wealthy circle who might be trying to use Ashwin to improve her station in life? Priya was uncomfortable with both of those ideas. They were too simplistic for this situation, and in both cases, Priya could stand in Eliza’s shoes easily. Priya’s maternal grandfather had built Carlingford Enterprises from nothing; his own mother was a laundry woman; and they were always reminded of their humble origins on his side of the family. Everyone was a few missteps from poverty, even a family like hers. The tale wasn’t designed to scare them into holding on too tight to their money, rather it was a story told so they would appreciate what they had. Man
y of their peers felt entitled to their position and wealth and Priya could see how easy it would be to fall under the same spell. People lost their moral fibre and crossed ethical boundaries when they cared more about money than other people.
Her father’s family were the opposite of humble, with her paternal grandfather being the previous Lord Dalhinge and her paternal grandmother descending from a Maharaja. It was a messy history to have in one’s family, a complicated tale of colonialism and assimilation. The Dalhinge estate had never been a wealthy one. Her grandfather had gone to India to work on the railways and seek his fortune, and like many other English men, he’d fallen in love with a local woman.
“Are you alright? You’ve been very quiet this evening.” Rosalie asked.
“Yes. I’m just thinking about...” She wasn’t sure she should talk about this here, or ever, and especially not with Ashwin in the same room. She glanced over her shoulder to see him hovering by the door. “Ashwin, come and sit down. Eliza will be here soon enough, and your pacing won’t make her any quicker.”
“She should be here by now. She’s usually here by now.”
“If she has any sense, she’ll make you wait a little.” Rosalie grinned.
“Excuse me?” Priya and Ashwin spoke together.
“Are you saying that she’s deliberately toying with my brother?” Priya knew it.
Rosalie shook her head. “Gosh no. I’ve only met her the once, and she seems like a straight forward person. I just meant it as a joke, that it does a man good to have to wait for something he wants. Why would you assume such a troublesome idea about her?”
“Mr Thackery strikes again.” Ashwin’s forced smile reflected the weight in Priya’s stomach.
“Who?”
“When we were children, our parents were always cautious when we made new friends. They took their time to...” Priya paused for a breath.
“It was for our own good. Too many people want to get near the Carlingford fortune and our parents made sure that any of our friends were genuine.”
“It wasn’t until we were both older that they told us why they were cautious.” Priya had internalised the caution until it robbed her of the freedom of friendship. Being aware of that didn’t take it away and she had only a few friends because she held herself at a distance.
“Technically you questioned them until Papa told us the full story.”
It had been just after Priya had run off with friends for the day, and one of Mother’s patients had died because of her. “The point is that we were told the story of Mr Thackery, because they understood the hurt when a false friend is revealed and they wanted to protect us—” The timing had sent a very strong message. Priya had killed someone through a bad choice, by spending time with friends instead of running an important errand. To realise those friends may have only wanted to be her friend because of her fortune and not because they actually liked her was a double cut to the wound that she already held tight against her heart. She’d let those friendships drift away after that day and had spent her time with Mother’s best friend’s children; Nell and Luciana and their siblings. Their mothers had gone to university with Mother to study medicine and they could be trusted. They were the closest thing she had to cousins; an extended family born out of a long friendship.
“Mr Thackery is our Mother’s step-brother. Years ago, before Mother married Papa, Mr Thackery tried to steal the company away from her and Uncle Will, using Mother’s step-mother to help him, and it’s always been a lesson in caution around who we can trust with company information. In some ways, the story of Mr Thackery has grown into a legend.”
“What do you mean, a legend? He’s a real person.” Priya’s parents were open and honest, occasionally Mother could be a bit abruptly honest. Priya didn’t mind because Mother was also kind. When Priya had been younger, they’d often fought, as only two people who are similarly determined and outgoing could. Now she was grown up, she saw so much of Mother in herself and she was proud to be like her.
“I know. I met him a few years ago and he was not as terrible as we’ve always been told.”
Priya leaped to her feet. “You met him. You didn’t tell me.”
“Ever since the incident, Carlingford has been paying him a small sum each year. It was never enough—there is a whole file of letters from him requesting more—and during the war, he begged for a meeting. He’d overspent his income again, this time investing in a get rich quick scheme that was an obvious scam, and he was desperate.”
“And you fell for that? Isn’t that exactly what we’ve been taught to avoid?”
“I didn’t fall for anything. I was curious and I met him on my terms. I refused his request for more funds and instead I offered to buy him a commission. He went to Africa to command a unit and sadly died in action in ‘sixteen.”
“You forgive him for what he did?”
“No. A conman like that doesn’t change his stripes. There is some irony that he ended up falling to a scheme run by another con. Of all the people who went to war, he is the one I have no regrets about. He spent his life trying to scam money from our family, enabled by our step-grandmother. I thought that buying him a commission might finally force him to achieve something for himself.”
A crushing weight clamped around Priya’s chest. Her brother had literally sent Mr Thackery to war where he’d died. She couldn’t breathe or look at Ashwin. No one, not even Mr Thackery, deserved a fate like that.
“Priya, there was a good chance he’d survive the war with the commission he chose for himself. Remember, he was a grub who thought he could gain control of Carlingford by forcing our Mother into marriage. He used his connections to gain a position in the company and didn’t tell anyone he was our step-grandmother’s son from her first marriage. He hid himself in plain sight and tried to charm his way into a favourable position. No one deserves to die, and I didn’t send Mr Thackery to his death. I gave him the opportunity to stop being terrible after years of—”
All the air in her chest seeped out, cool over her lips, and she slowly covered her mouth with her hand. Was she scared of letting Rosalie close to her because of family lore? Rosalie was nothing like Mr Thackery.
Priya dropped her hand. “After years of toying with our family.” She concluded his sentence with the original question. “Ashwin... Eliza—”
“Eliza is nothing like Mr Thackery.” Ashwin’s nostrils flared.
Priya nodded slowly. “I was about to say that. I know they are nothing alike. Eliza has always been honest with who she is.” Neither Rosalie nor Eliza hid who they were from Priya. Why had it taken her so long to figure it out? She believed this story about Mr Thackery with all her heart and it might take her some time to undo that immediate reaction to... literally everyone she met. “Eliza makes you happy and for that alone, I am genuinely thrilled for you both.” Her own issues shouldn’t get between her brother and a wonderful talented woman who helped him relax from the tensions and stresses of his job. Trying to run a massive company ethically wasn’t a simple task. Ashwin was continually searching for ways to improve safety and ensure Carlingford made enough profit to stay in business so that all their staff were secure in their jobs. The war had made that easier, and they’d been able to employ many more people. Keeping them on now the work had ended was a fresh challenge.
“Thank you. I know how it looks...”
Priya couldn’t help it. “—that you fell in love with a Gaiety Girl, just like every other rich man in London?” It was easier to tease her brother than admit her very real feelings for Rosalie.
“Not just the men. Some of those Gaiety Girls are very handsome.” Rosalie murmured and Priya spluttered as heat bloomed over her face. She had also had several unrequited passions for a few Gaiety Girls over the past few years; none that she would act on, because it wasn’t safe to be open about such things, but that hadn’t stopped her fanaticising about what might happen if one of them maybe turned up at a club for people with similar de
sires to herself.
“Yes.” She dared glance at Ashwin whose gaze flickered rapidly between the two of them.
“Are you two?”
Priya felt a weight lift off her shoulders. Now was the time to make her apology real, and so she turned to Rosalie. “Yes. We are. Or rather, it’s early days and I would like that very much.”
Rosalie swallowed and pink flashed across her cheeks. “Priya.” Her breathy alto toned voice swept across Priya’s skin.
“I shall withhold my congratulations for a while then.” Ashwin winked at her. The doorman opened the door and Eliza walked in. “Eliza. You were fantastic tonight.” He reached out and she held his hands.
“Thank you. I’m going to miss this when I marry you.” Eliza didn’t have the look of someone who’d just performed for an adoring audience. She stared at the floor.
“What?” Priya gasped, shocked away from her own dramatic worries about her growing relationship with Rosalie. “You are going to quit once married. Why?”
“I thought that’s what you’d want me to do.”
“Ashwin?” Priya glared at her brother who squirmed a little. “The women in our family have always worked. It’s important to have an independent income and a career for yourself.”
“I assumed Eliza would work for us.”
“Did you ask her? And also working for the family business isn’t exactly independent. What if she needs to...” Priya didn’t finish the sentence, and besides, Ashwin knew what she meant. Mother had taught them both to have funds separate to the business in case of a rainy day, especially for Priya. The Marriage Act only offered some protection. Priya would have to take Eliza aside and have a discussion with Mother to make sure Eliza was provided for in every circumstance, just in case.
“Well, isn’t that a change of heart?” Ashwin’s voice held a touch of sarcasm and Priya raised her eyebrows at him, quite pointedly.
“Darling brother. I assure you I can effectively balance my own trust issues alongside my desire to ensure that no woman is placed in a situation where she has no control over her own destiny.” Getting all upset about Ashwin’s choices was a lot easier than figuring out her own life.
