by Lori Wick
The Hawk and the Jewel,
Kensington Chronicles #1
Lori Wick
During the nineteenth century, the palace at Kensington represented the noble heritage of Britain’s young queen and the simple elegance of a never-to-be-forgotten era. The Victorian Age was the pinnacle of England’s dreams, a time of sweeping adventure and gentle love. It is during this time, when hope was bright with promise, that this series is set.
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the casket dipped precariously in the hands of the sailors as it was carried toward the docks. Lord Randolph Gallagher, Marquess of Woodburn, watched their progress and found himself flinching with pain, even though his wife felt nothing. The ship on which he had just sailed from the Arabian Sea, a ship he had felt anxious to leave for weeks, now held a type of solace. His eyes followed the men’s descent down the gangway, but he was somehow hesitant to follow.
A massive coach pulled up behind the waiting hearse, and Lord Gallagher recognized it immediately. Still he did not move from his place on the deck of theKatberine Ann.Not until the small, white, strained face of his mother appeared in the window did his feet propel him forward.
He came to a halt just outside her window, the height of the coach as well as his own putting their faces at eye level.
“Is it true? Is it true what your message said?”
“It’s true; Katherine is dead.”
“And Sunny?” she whispered.
Randolph only shook his head. “There was no trace of her,”
The older woman, small as she was, seemed to shrink before his eyes. “I can’t believe it, Rand. If she were gone, I know I would feel it within me. I just can’t believe she’s dead too.”
Randolph’s eyes were filled with compassion. He’d had weeks on the voyage home to come to grips with the deaths of his wife and
young daughter, but for his family the news was just hours old. With another check on the hearse, Randolph joined his mother in the coach. He listened to her whisper, again telling herself it just could not be.
Randolph stayed silent, praying that his mother would soon accept the death of her tiny namesake. He knew that until she did, she would give her heart no chance to heal.
His thoughts were drawn away from his mother as the coach lurched into motion. His mind moved to the faces of his three other children. They would have to be told, and swiftly, that their mother and sister were dead.
10*s
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11 darhabar May 3,1844
the emir’s ward peeked our of the shadowy doorway into the empty courtyard beyond. The way seemed clear, but she knew well that looks could be deceiving. When she was certain that all would be safe, Shani crossed on silent feet.
The guards, standing unnoticed in their respective places, let her pass. She’d been sneaking across the outer courtyard since before her fifth year. Even though they were supposed to stop her, they never did-for Shani was their ruler’s favorite. Nevertheless, before she reached the emir’s chambers, her actions had been reported.
Ahmad Khan, ruler of Darhabar, dismissed the young slave girl attending him with only a brief move of his head. AH, his chief advisor, had appeared in the entryway of his private chambers. There was a need to speak privately. The two men, long-time friends, settled themselves comfortably on the pillows and spoke in low tones.
“She will be here momentarily,” Ali told his sovereign ruler.
“I understand she came across the courtyard.”
“That is why I’m here,” Ali went on. “It’s a sign that she’s feeling restless again. She will no doubt wish to speak of England.”
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Ahmad nodded thoughtfully. Nearly 13 years ago, a child and her mother had been brought to the palace. The child, whom they guessed to be past her second birthday, was clinging to the mother who, after nearly drowning, was on the brink of death.
Ahmad could see that she was a beautiful woman. Even in her injured state that was obvious. He would have kept her for himself, if she had survived. Within days of her death the father had come looking for them, but by then Ahmad was so taken with the beautiful child that he had lied about ever seeing her.
The grieving husband was taken to his wife’s body. {Catherine Gallagher was beautifully prepared, wrapped hi cloth that had been dipped in rich spices. Without delay she was taken aboard her husband’s vessel, and without the slightest twinge of guilt the emir had gone to the tower and watched them sail away.
From that point, discreet inquiries were made in England as to the child’s home and the rest of her family. But before word returned to the palace, Ahmad had named her Shani. Her name meant “wondrous,” and indeed she was wondrous in his eyes. She had a head full of chestnut-colored curls and violet eyes. Never had he seen eyes of such a color.
She was the delight of his world as she grew. There was never a day that she was not allowed entrance into his chambers. If one of his wives or concubines had joined him for the night, Shani was kept away, but if he was in the palace, she was allowed to seek him out. He was closer to her than all but two other members of his entire household: his chief advisor, Ali, and his favorite wife, Indira.
Indira had never given him a daughter. She had blessed him with five healthy sons, the oldest of whom was the heir to the throne, but never a girl. Shani became Indira’s girl as well as his own. Indira loved her as her own child, and there was never a jealous moment between them. This could not be said of Ahmad’s other wives, concubines, and children. However, no harm ever befell Shani since the entire palace kept her in their eye. Her status as his favorite brought much protection; it also brought her privileges she should not have had.
“She will be here shortly, my prince,” Ali said, reverting to the name he’d called the emir through the years his father had been on the throne.
Ahmad nodded decisively. “Stay within hearing this day. If you are right, and she does want to talk of her home, we will take it as a sign. You know what to do.”
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Ali stood and bowed low. He slipped behind a semitransparent screen just as Shani’s presence was announced.
“I think, little one, that your mind is not on our game today.”
Shani lay back against the pillows and stared broodingly at the chessboard. “I was in the tower yesterday,” she admitted softly, since it was strictly forbidden.
“And at the stables the day before that, and hi the courtyard today,” Ahmad added dryly. “Somehow I do not think your mind is on your sins.”
Shani shook her head in agreement, but then she leaned forward, her youth showing in the clear, guileless depths of her eyes. “There was an English ship in the harbor. I couldn’t see very well, but there appeared to be two women on board. They wore long dresses and scarves on their heads, but their faces were bare.”
Ahmad’s heart sank, although his face gave nothing away. He’d expected as much, but his suspicions didn’t make what was about to commence easier. He had thought through the next few years carefully, and knew what must be done. Over Shani’s shoulder, he watched Ali rise and move silently from the chamber.
“And you wish,” Ahmad once again gave the girl his full attention, “that you could be on board the ship too.”
“Oh, please, Poppy,” she used her baby name for him. “I promise to stay out of the courtyard and the stables for an entire moon.”
Ahmad shook his head indulgently. “We shall see.”
It was the closest he’d ever come to agreeing, and Shani threw her arms around his neck. His other children never approached him without permission, but he had always allowed spontaneity with his Shani.
Shani was no better an opponent after hearing the good news; if anything, she was more preoccupied than before. So when another ten minutes passed, and she asked to be excused, Ahmad granted her wish without hesitation.
Ali entered the chamber a moment later, watching his master’s face for emotion. At first glance Ahmad’s look was guarded, but upon closer inspection, grief showed within his eyes.
“Have you taken care of the matter, Ali?”
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al have.”
“So now we wait,” Ahmad said, and his eyes filled with pain. Ali, upon seeing that pain, sensed his ruler’s need to be alone.
shani made her way quietly through the palace and back to her own chambers. She slipped out of the short lavender vest she wore and kicked off the silky purple pants that hung just below her navel and were banded at the ankles.
She studied her naked reflection in the mirror for long minutes before slipping quietly out the door and into the bathing chamber. No one ever used the pools at this time of the afternoon, and Shani, beginning to feel self-conscious over her lack of curves, preferred to bathe alone.
“Fourteen years old,” she said miserably as she swam in lazy circles, “with no breasts, no hips, and legs as long and straight as a boy’s. Poppy will have to pay someone to take me to wife.”
“Talking to yourself, Shani?”
Shani laughed softly as Indira, the only mother she’d ever known, came and sat at the edge of the pool.
“You do not bathe with us in the mornings any longer, little one. Why is that?”
Shani deliberately dove beneath the surface of the water, but Indira, not to be put off so easily, was sitting just as she had been when Shani surfaced. Her dark eyes were serious, yet loving; questioning, yet patient.
“I am restless,” Shani admitted. “Not 30 minutes ago I was talking with Poppy. Now I’m swimming alone and pouting about the shape of my body. Nothing satisfies me anymore. It is as Poppy has always said; I’m the most spoiled child in the palace.”
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17
“What is wrong with the shape of your body?”
**It is shape/ec; that is what is wrong.”
“You are young.1*
“Kadeem is younger and already with child,” Shani pointed out logically. She was referring to another of Ahmad’s daughters, one who had come into womanhood two years ago and was already married and expecting.
“I am 14,” Shani pointed out, as though Indira might have forgotten.
What Shani didn’t know was that Indira could not get her age from her mind. Shani’s height and verbal skills had fooled them 13 years ago, but it was now quite evident that their Shani was not 14.
She also knew that to inform her of this now would crush her young heart, not because it would upset her to be a year younger-that would be a relief-but because it would mean admitting to other lies they had told her all the years she’d lived with them. Even if Ahmad had not forbidden her to speak of it, Indira would never have had the heart. It would instantly put Shani at ease over her lack of development, but it would also open such a world of pain and confusion for her that she might never be their Shani again.
“You are not concerned, are you?” Shani asked from the edge of the pool where she now dried herself. Indira was the only person she allowed to see her naked.
“No. You are not Indira, and you are not Kadeem. You are Shani, and you will become a woman when it is Shani’s time to do so.”
Mother and daughter walked into Shani’s chambers together. Shani slipped into a short robe and then joined her mother on the pillows. Indira immediately began to brush Shani’s hair. It was something she’d done just before Shani’s bedtime from the first days Shani was in the palace. It was not bedtime on this occasion, but Indira sensed Shani’s need for her tender touch.
As she’d done so many times in the past, Indira’s mind wandered to what Shani’s real mother must have been like. She had not seen the half-dead woman who had been rescued from the sea and brought to the palace, but she’d heard that she was a woman of beauty. To that time Indira believed that all English women were colorless, both in looks and temperament, but Shani’s mother, if not Shani herself, had proven otherwise.
Shani’s eyes were so blue they were purple, astonishingly rare in
their small country. Even though Indira had no proof, she believed they would also be quite remarkable in England. It was more than Shani’s unique appearance that changed Indira’s opinion about English women; it was also her personality.
Indira had watched her march into Ahmad’s chambers on many occasions, head held high even though punishment awaited her. Rarely had Shani admitted she was wrong or said she regretted an act, only that she was sorry to be caught. Indira, even knowing she was the emir’s favorite wife, would never have been so insolent.
“Poppy said today that I could visit an English ship.” Shani spoke suddenly, and Indira’s hand faltered with the comb. “Well, not exactly. He said we would see.”
“Well then,” Indira said, effectively hiding the fear in her voice, “you have something to hope for now, something to put your restless mind to work.”
Indira’s arms came about her then, and even though this wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, Shani felt she held her a little tighter than usual.
The evening ended well for Shani, as she was the only child to dine with both Indira and Ahmad. They laughed and supped until Shani grew sleepy.
When a palace eunuch escorted Shani back to her chambers, Indira joined Ahmad in his bedroom. They talked for hours before spending the night together. It was not a night of passion, but one of Ahmad holding Indira in his arms as she cried herself to sleep.
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August 17,1844
“Bur why does poppy want me?” Shani questioned for the fifth time.
“Be patient, my child.” All’s voice was calm as they walked the halls of the palace toward the emir’s chambers.
“I’ve not been near the stableorthe tower, and only through the courtyard twice.** She sounded so logical, certain that she was in trouble. Ali smiled but did not answer.
Shani hesitated on the threshold of Ahmad’s chambers. She had never before feared him, even when she should have, but things in the palace had been different for a number of weeks. Shani was not certain she could explain the changes, but she felt them nevertheless.
“Come in, little one,” Ahmad called to her upon witnessing her hesitancy. Shani, after bowing low, saw his smile and immediately relaxed.
“Ali has been very mysterious this day,” she commented with her usual spontaneity, but as she came forward into the large salon, some of her apprehension returned. Standing beyond the emir was a woman she’d never seen before. The woman’s dress was odd; her expression anxious. It was obvious that she was waiting for instructions.
“Again you hesitate,” Ahmad teased her. “For years now you have begged me to board an English ship, and now that I have provided a way, you look at me with fear.”
“A ship? This woman can take me to a ship?” Shani’s voice was breathless with anticipation and disbelief.
“No. She cannot take you to a ship, but she can make you a suitable English costume to wear. The tower will watch for such a ship, and at such a time as I deem correct, I will arrange a tour.”
Shani was so stunned she did not at first react. She looked to Ali, whose mouth lifted in a small smile, and then back to her Poppy. A second later she was leaping about the salon and screeching like a wounded animal.
“Shani,” Ahmad’s voice was sharp. Such displays were not offensive to him but they had a guest, and Shani’s behavior had to be above reproach.
Shani, having been trained in control and the art of hiding one’s emotions from the time she was a child, immediately quieted, her gaze dropping submissively to the floor.
“That is better,” Ahmad told her, his voice still stern. “You will remain here with Ali and do all that he tells you.”
Ahm
ad crossed to the door, and Shani’s head turned to follow his progress. His disappointment with her was like a knife in her side, and she anxiously watched his retreating back.
As though sensing her gaze, Ahmad stopped short of exiting. He looked back and their eyes locked, only this time his were twinkling with suppressed laughter. Shani had to fight her own mirth when she saw those eyes, but at least she had the knowledge that she was back in his good graces.
Two weeks later Shani summoned Rashad, her personal eunuch, to her chambers. She gave him a message to deliver to Indira, and then she waited for a reply with ill-concealed impatience. There was never a time she wasn’t welcome in her mother’s rooms, but on this occasion Shani wanted privacy.
As she waited, she told herself to stay away from the mirror, but found it couldn’t be done. A huge smile broke across her face as she beheld her image for at least the tenth time that day.
Her dress was made of red wool. The sleeves were long and narrow and the neckline high and stiff. Shani had never worn clothing that covered so much of her person. She lifted the front of the skirt and
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nearly giggled at the pale linen pantaloons and woolen stockings that covered her legs. Shani was still amazed at the amount of clothing she’d had to don. There had been pantaloons, a camisole, a shift, the stockings, and a petticoat. All of this wasbeforethe dress. She was literally swathed in clothing, but Shani was having such fun she didn’t care.
She continued to study herself, turning to the side to see her profile and smiling with satisfaction. What she loved most about her new outfit was the way it disguised her body. She was still as straight up and down as a reed, but no one would be the wiser with the full skirt of the dress she now wore.
“What is so urgent,” Indira’s amused voice pulled Shani from the mirror, “that I must dismiss my maids from their duties and come to your chambers?”
Shani knew she was not angry over the disturbance. She stood waiting for her mother’s inspection and verdict. Shani turned in a full circle when Indira directed her with a wave of her hand. She tried to stay silent, but it was impossible.
“Just look underneath,” Shani chattered with the enthusiasm of a girl. She lifted the front of her dress to show Indira a network of underclothing. Indira’s eyes widened as she took in shift, petticoat, and bloomers.
