Twilight 0f Memory (Historical Regency Romance)

by Patricia Watters

  "I say, old boy," Cedric called out, "I heard the news. So, you're a married man." Cedric burst into the room… And stopped abruptly.

  Damon expected to see shock on Cedric's face. After all, Lady Ravencroft was none other than the gypsy chit who'd made her way into his employ and stolen a valuable gem from him. Instead, he saw alarm as Cedric held Elizabeth's gaze. Elizabeth, on the other hand, looked perplexed, and a bit disturbed. They were clearly uneasy in each other's presence and he made a mental note to find out why.

  The troubled look on Cedric's face faded into disgust. "It seems you've gotten your opal back. I assume that's why the chit's here. What's more. I hear you've taken a wife. So when do I get to meet her?"

  Damon draped his hand on the back of Elizabeth's neck. "Right now. May I present Lady Ravencroft."

  Cedric stared at Damon, dumbfounded. When he at length found his voice, he said, "You're not serious. What's in it for you, Ravencroft? Surely you didn't marry the strumpet to beget heirs? She's no more than a common—"

  "Careful, my friend," Damon warned. "Elizabeth's my wife."

  "Elizabeth?" Cedric said, with irony. "Does she think by changing her name it changes what she is? You're already consigned to the fringes of society. When word gets out that Lady Ravencroft had been your servant who'd robbed you blind, every door in Calcutta will shut in your face." His eyes scanned the length of Elizabeth. "I admit she's a tart ripe for the taking like you pointed out at the horse fair, but to take her for your wife? Have you gone mad? Any man could have her. Most around here probably have."

  Damon looked at Elizabeth, whose face was a frozen mask of suppressed rage, and said, "Excuse us, Elizabeth. I'd like to have a few words alone with Lord Hadleigh."

  Elizabeth left the room and started down the hallway. She hadn't taken more than a few steps when there was a crack and a loud grunt, followed by something crashing against the wall. Moments later, Cedric stumbled through the doorway and fell to his hands and knees. He lifted himself on unsteady legs and clamped his hand to his mouth. Finding his fingers coated in blood, he took out his handkerchief and dabbed his mouth then tottered toward Elizabeth, who stood between him and his exit.

  Damon stepped into the hallway and called after him. "You will apologize to Lady Ravencroft as you leave."

  Cedric dipped his head toward Elizabeth, and said, while holding the blood-stained handkerchief to his face, "Lady Ravencroft, please accept my apologies."

  Elizabeth said nothing, nor did she move aside for him to pass.

  Lowering his head, Cedric eased around her and left hurriedly.

  Damon walked up to stand beside Elizabeth. Looking askance at her, as Cedric hastily let himself out, he said, "You've known him in the past."

  Elizabeth nodded. "It was the same when I was here before. I know our paths crossed at some time but I don't remember where, but I'm certain he remembers. You might question him."

  Damon glanced down the hallway. "I intend to, but he will no longer come to my house as my friend. Like I told you before, as long as you're my wife I will demand respect for you."

  Elizabeth backed away. "That may be, but it changes nothing. As soon as I find your opal, our marriage will be annulled, but until that time I'll take my rightful place as mistress of Shanti Bhavan and assume the duties of a memsahib." Before Damon could respond, she'd turned and scurried down the hallway.

  Damon had no doubt that Elizabeth could run the household as efficiently, if not more so, than Mrs. Throckmorton. Before the week would be out she'd have the staff at her beck and call and him on the verge of declaring feelings he was only just coming to know.

  And all Elizabeth wanted was to recover his opal and be done with him.

  ***

  During the next two weeks Elizabeth made several trips to the marketplace, intent on gleaning information from vendors, beggars and street urchins as to the whereabouts of her grandmother's tribe, which was key to finding the opal. If they didn't have it, they'd know where it was. But to her dismay, her inquiries were met with shrugs, shaking heads, or negative waves of the hand. However, soon the gypsies would arrive for the horse fair, a yearly event, so until then she'd bide her time. It was pointless to do otherwise.

  Before the end of their second week at Shanti Bhavan, Damon managed to find a replacement for Mrs. Throckmorton—a dignified man who dressed in dazzling white and wore a turban. The man took charge immediately, doing the marketing, running the household, and checking with Elizabeth each morning to report on the state of her empire, but Elizabeth wasn't without duties. Each day she accompanied the man to the storeroom for the ritual distribution of supplies. It was also her job to see that there were adequate provisions in the kitchen, as well as keeping tabs on essentials such as soap, candles and matches. She felt like a proper memsahib but for the fact that several servants who'd been at Shanti Bhavan when she'd been there before couldn't hide their resentment. She'd anticipated a certain amount of animosity from those who'd once accepted her as one of them, but she hadn't expected the young woman who'd once shared her bedchamber to be among them.

  Aanya's enmity was subtle. Whenever their paths crossed, she dutifully dipped a curtsy, and when given a task, she clipped her, 'Yes, memsahib' while refusing to look Elizabeth in the eye. It troubled Elizabeth that they couldn't share the camaraderie of the past, and when her request that Aanya become her lady's maid was unwelcome, she refused to let it pass.

  "I know you're upset that I'm your mistress now," she said to the young woman, "but that doesn't mean we cannot be friends. And you can look me in the eye, Aanya. I'm not Mrs. Throckmorton."

  Aanya raised her eyes slowly and looked directly at Elizabeth.

  "As my lady's maid," Elizabeth continued, "you'd occupy the maid's room down the hallway from my bedchamber so you'd be out of that stuffy, stifling box of a room you're in now. Besides, I have things to tell you but won't, unless I have your friendship, and your trust."

  Aanya's eyes softened and a tentative smile played about her lips. "We were friends once. I like it that we be friends again."

  Elizabeth took Aanya by both hands. "Then it's settled. You'll be my lady's maid."

  Aanya's eyes brightened. "I will try, but you will have to give me instruction because I have never been a lady's maid before."

  "It's easy. It will also insure a better position for you should you want to find employment elsewhere at a later date, though I hope you'll stay here for a very long time."

  Elizabeth started to tell Aanya that in a few weeks Shanti Bhavan would be hers and Lord Ravencroft would be gone, but she wasn't sure how that would play out or what would be their last parting words before Damon would return to England. Things were better between them now, but she couldn't shove aside the notion that he'd always view her as the mistress he'd wanted, before he was trapped into marrying her as a means to an end. So, instead of confiding the whole complicated affair to Aanya, she said, "I'll send a bearer to fetch your things."

  While the bearer moved Aanya's belongings into her new quarters, Elizabeth and Aanya slipped back into their old comfortable friendship, and before long, Aanya filled Elizabeth in on the vicious gossip that was being passed from servant to servant, to mistress, to confidante, to anyone who'd gasp with outrage or smile with prurient delight, gossip that was spreading through Calcutta's British society like a gathering swarm of locusts…

  Lady Ravencroft lived with gypsies… worked as a common maid for the notorious rake she married… had been his mistress… stole a valuable jewel from him… his gateman stabbed in the heart with a knife belonging to Lady Ravencroft… she didn't commit the murder but how did the murderer get her knife? During a tryst no doubt… women like her care little who they sleep with in order to gain what they want… Lady Ravencroft is obviously remiss in her wifely duties because Lord Ravencroft has taken up with his former mistress…

  Tears misted Elizabeth's eyes. Being a social outcast didn't concern her. She'd suffered that in the past
and carried on. It was learning that Damon's evenings were spent in the arms of another that made her chest feel as if it were being squeezed in a vise, yet she didn't understand why she should feel that way. Damon was a husband in name only. She'd also made it clear on the ship that he was free to take a mistress as long as he was discrete. Apparently he'd taken it to heart because he'd been so discrete she'd had no idea he'd taken Mara back.

  Aanya touched her hand. "Maybe he not with mistress. Maybe it just gossip."

  Elizabeth knew better. For the past three nights Damon hadn't occupied his bedchamber. Each evening after dinner he left the house and didn't return until morning. He offered no explanation of his whereabouts, and she didn't ask.

  Until three nights ago, she'd heard him in his bedchamber, which adjoined hers by a door that remained open during the day when the servants were about, and which she shut during her bath and at night after the servants left them to their privacy. She wondered if it had to do with an incident that happened the night before he began staying away.

  She'd been immersed in the tin tub in her bedchamber while three ayahs washed her, when one of the ayahs stared at the area under her arm and gasped and began talking in frenzied Hindustani to the others, who bobbed their heads in concern. Before Elizabeth had the wherewithal to stop her, the ayah rushed to the door between the bedchambers and rapped sharply. When Damon opened the door, the woman said in an excited voice, "Sahib, come… see mistress." She raised her arm and pointed to show him where the problem was.

  To Elizabeth's horror, Damon walked over to the tub and crouched. Although she'd crossed her arms to cover herself, he took her elbow and lifted slightly. Not wanting to make a scene, she sat immobile, heart hammering, while he inspected the area beneath her armpit. "It's swollen and red. Have cook prepare a paste of basil leaves and salt and see that it's applied to Lady Ravencroft until the swelling has passed."

  He left hastily and hadn't returned to his bedchamber since…

  Elizabeth blinked to check the tears. "It makes no difference if Lord Ravencroft's gone back to Begum Mara," she said, spitting out the bogus title. "Our marriage isn't permanent."

  Aanya looked at her, baffled. "I don't understand."

  Feeling confident Aanya could be trusted, Elizabeth explained their provisional marriage. Aanya already knew about the stolen opal and the dead gateman, and that Elizabeth had nothing to do with the deed herself. But Aanya was surprised to learn that not only had Elizabeth's father once owned Shanti Bhavan, but during the three years Elizabeth was gone, she'd been attending finishing school in England, where her father owned a large estate.

  "So you see," Elizabeth continued, "as soon as I'm able to recover the opal, Lord Ravencroft will turn over Shanti Bhavan to me, our marriage will be annulled, and he'll return to England." She let out a little soft snicker. "And Begum Mara will have to cool her ardor with another woman's husband. It will be interesting to see which one she chooses."

  Although she tried to make light of it, the thought of a beautiful woman bedding Damon bothered Elizabeth more than she cared to admit. But then, Damon had male needs that weren't being met, so she couldn't fault him for satisfying his need elsewhere.

  Still, she couldn't dismiss the image of slender golden-brown hands moving over him. Nor could she shake the jealousy she felt that, while she was familiar with Damon's muscular male body due to their close confined quarters while traveling, Mara knew it intimately.

  And those were the kinds of thoughts she'd simply put out of her mind, because there was no place in her heart, or in her life, for a man who considered her little more than the kept woman he went to each night to satisfy his lust.

  ***

  Although the household was running smoothly under the supervision of the new head servant, Elizabeth was becoming increasingly exasperated with the relentless heat, the incessant bugs, and the ubiquitous staff. Especially the staff. All she wanted was solitude, but it seemed as long as she remained at Shanti Bhavan that wouldn't be. Her patience finally snapped at dinner one evening. Because Damon was late, she was already seated at the table.

  He arrived just as the matey was entering the dining room while carrying a platter of sweetbread croquettes. After taking his place, Damon looked down the length of the table at Elizabeth, and said, "How did you fare today?"

  "How did I fare!" Elizabeth scoffed. "When I was in the garden I found a dead crow among the marigolds, and when I went to remove it, one of the half-dozen gardeners who follow me everywhere stopped me, horrified that Missy Sahib might defile herself by touching the dead bird. So he sent for the masalchee from the scullery, who rushed out claiming it was the job of the sweeper. But the sweeper claimed only a dome could dispose of the dead bird. I was so exasperated by then I disposed of the bird myself. Now, the entire staff is mortified over what I did." She nodded for the matey to slip a sweetbread croquette from the platter onto her dish.

  Damon eyed her with vexation. "You've lived in India. You should have known."

  Elizabeth sliced off a piece of croquette. "I lived with gypsies. They don't have staffs of servants." She popped the croquette into her mouth, barely aware of its succulent flavor, so agitated she was over the whole incident.

  "But your father had servants when you lived with him in London," Damon pointed out.

  Elizabeth gave a sharp snort of disgust. "They didn't run my life! Here, I have punkah coolies to fan me, durzis sitting cross-legged on the floor of my bedchamber stitching away on my gowns, the bheesti bursting in at all hours with water, two ayahs to help me dress, one to brush my hair, three to bathe me. I don't like having hands all over me." She sliced off another piece of croquette.

  Damon took a slow sip of wine. "You did once. The night I found you dancing around the lantern you made no move to stop what I was doing."

  Elizabeth looked up and found him watching her, intently. "That was different."

  Damon held her gaze. "In what way?"

  "I allowed you to do those things so I could recover the opal." She popped the piece of croquette into her mouth, annoyed with the direction of the conversation and determined not to let Damon goad her into saying more.

  "I didn't have the opal that evening and you knew it." Damon took another slow sip of wine, his eyes holding hers.

  "Like I told you before, you took me by surprise." Elizabeth turned her attention to the matey, who'd entered with a serving bowl filled with curry and rice, and nodded for him to place a portion on her plate.

  After Damon had been served, he took a mouthful of curry, chewed thoughtfully, and said, "Has the swelling under your arm gone away?"

  Elizabeth looked up, surprised at the shift in the conversation. He'd not so much as inquired about her wellbeing since the incident in the bath tub the week before. He'd left the room in such a hurry after that she didn't know what to make of it. "I'm fine now. You told the ayahs what to do about it but you never said what caused the swelling."

  "It was obviously an insect bite. There was a red dot in the center of the swollen area. Did you know when you were bitten?"

  Elizabeth nodded. "It was when I was in the garden that morning. I was on my hands and knees picking larkspur and snap dragons when I felt something bite. The area became swollen and started throbbing but I had no idea what, exactly had bitten me. I worried it might have been a poisonous spider and thought about sending for a doctor, but after several hours passed and nothing happened, I decided the thing was not venomous and gave it no further thought."

  "There are no poisonous spiders in India," Damon said, "but any bite can get infected. You should have come to me and told me about it."

  "Why? So you could take liberties I wouldn't have otherwise let you take?"

  Damon's eyes darkened. "No, so Cook could make a poultice for you." He sat silently staring at her for the stretch of several seconds, then said in a low, brooding tone, "Did the touch of my hand bother you so much?"

  "You're not my husband. Not really," Eliza
beth said, disturbed that he was pressing her into admitting a longing she didn't want to recognize, and angry with herself for her weakness.

  Damon leaned forward, as if to make sure she understood, and said, "That's why I'm staying in the bungalow, so I won't be tempted again."

  Elizabeth wanted to tell him she knew precisely why he was staying in the bungalow, and it had nothing to do with avoiding temptation with her, but she said instead, "You should not have come into the room while I was bathing at all, but since you and I are already a prime topic for gossip among Calcutta's bluebloods I could hardly tell you to leave, with a half-dozen ayahs staring at us." She let out a short, cynical laugh. "At least the gossipmongers won't be able to say Lady Ravencroft shuns Lord Ravencroft's touch."

  Damon looked at her thoughtfully. "Maybe someday it will feel right."

  Elizabeth slapped her napkin on the table. "We will not be together long enough for that to happen. The gypsies will be here in three weeks. If they have the opal in their possession I'll get it back for you, in which case you will return to England and I'll stay here. If they don't have the opal, I'll return to England, and you'll stay here. Either way this marriage will be over and whatever I feel about your touch will be irrelevant." She shoved her chair back and stood.

  Damon rose out of respect, looked across the table at her, and said, "I behaved badly on the steamer. The things I said were cruel and vindictive and I apologize, and for the incident during your bath. I had no right. Will you ever forgive me?"

  Elizabeth shrugged. "You've behaved badly since I met you, though I've been partly to blame. I believe we bring out the worst in each other, which is why I'll be glad when this alliance is over. Now, if you'll excuse me, I want to be done with all the bedtime folderol with my ayahs and go to sleep."

  She turned and left the room, and Damon didn't try to stop her. But before the issue of the opal would be settled he was determined that she would welcome his touch, and welcome him as her husband. The thought of another man's hands on her was not an option now, but he had little time to change bitterness and hatred to love and desire, but change it, he would.