His Little Courtesan

by Breanna Hayse

  "Just go."

  "I don't like this behavior, young lady. Not one bit. You are to stay in your room, and then you and I are going to have a very long talk when I return. And, if I don't see a marked improvement in your disposition, you will also be spending some very serious time across my lap. It would do you well to think about that. Am I understood?"

  "It is unfair of you—"

  "Am I understood?" Philip asked firmly.

  Jane winced. It had been a while since she had seen that look on his face. "Yes, Papa," she whispered, looking at the floor.

  "Good girl. Behave yourself," he said, kissing her forehead before gathering his satchel. He waved as he left and disappeared down the path to the dock.

  Jane glared at his back with her arms crossed, and then stamped her foot.

  "Missus?" The servant came up behind her. "The cook wishes to know what you desire for your morning meal."

  Jane turned to look at him. "I'm not hungry. I would, however, like a basket packed. I am going to spend the day in the garden."

  "Missus, please forgive, but the master said that you are to stay in your room."

  "I don't care. I am going to walk in the garden and explore the grounds."

  "Please, Miss—"

  "You know where I'll be if I'm needed," Jane said, walking back up to her room to dress in something more comfortable for her 'explorations'. With the old sense of rebellion returning, she donned a pair of Philip's 'pyjamas', which consisted of loose, linen trousers with a drawstring around the waist, and a long tunic. After putting her hair in a single braid over her shoulder, she padded on bare feet across the soft rugs to leave.

  The door was locked!

  "Unlock this door immediately!" she shouted, pounding on the heavy wood. "Let me out of here." No response. She kicked the door and growled, using every profane word she could recall, and then stepped back to look around.

  A little smile crept across her face as she looked out of the window. Memories of her frequent escapes from the manor in England flooded her mind, as she easily lifted her leg over the sill. The dense jungle vines provided much better support than the trellis of her past escapes, and she was on the ground within seconds. Peering around for witnesses, and seeing none, she slipped into the dark shadows of the old, bent trees.

  Choosing the path covered with smooth pebbles, Jane stepped carefully in her bare feet and picked her way through the heavy veils of flowering vines that mingled with giant sweeping leaves and delicately twisted tree trunks. Colorful birds squawked for attention in the branches above, joined with the hooting of monkeys and the occasional buzz of a flying insect. Plucking a giant red hibiscus and tucking it behind her ear, she continued her venture deeper into the gardens until the cottage was no longer visible.

  At a three-way fork, she paused to wipe the dampness off her brow with the back of her arm. Each walkway looked identical, so she closed her eyes and turned around three times with her finger pointed.

  Go right! With a grin, Jane headed deeper into the jungle. Another fork, another turn, and soon she was hopelessly lost in a thicket in which every tree, every branch, and every flower looked identical to the others.

  Calming herself in the knowledge that the servants would come to her room to bring her food and discover her absence, she resolved to enjoy the quiet tranquility and beauty surrounding her, and make an attempt to dispel the anger and humiliation that her 'restriction' had brought upon her. Stumbling upon an old temple that held a sparkling pool bubbling under a marble fountain, she drank heartily from the falling rivulet while closing her eyes to savor the cool, refreshing sweetness. Trees laden with fruit satisfied her hunger as she sat on the pool's edge and dangled her tender feet in the rippling, clear water. She looked up into the dense canopy as rain began to fall gently through the leaves. It was so different to back in England, where the icy cold drops and sharp winds cut one through to the joints, and left her feeling chilled to the depths of her soul. No—this rain was warm, gentle, and fell in large, heavy drops over her face. She opened her mouth, allowing the sweet, fresh water to wet her lips and tongue, and wished that Philip would walk in the rain with her.

  Philip. He was going to be furious when he discovered her disobedience. But he broke his promise, she reasoned. He should not have left her alone again. It was wrong for him to expect her to obey his restrictions when he would not even keep a simple promise to her. Well, she would have a few words with him when he returned!

  The sound of voices in the distance caught her attention, and she rose to follow them. She picked her way to a narrow, muddy river where a small boat carrying a family of fishermen was floating, with nets in the water. She waved them down and asked them for transportation downstream, hoping that her Hindi was intelligible enough to be understood. She promised to reward them generously for their assistance as they helped her into the boat.

  The children chatted happily, practicing their English with her as they floated lazily down the waterway for over an hour. The eldest man pulled up to the river bank and gestured for her to disembark.

  "No more. Raja," he tried to explain in broken English.

  "The Raja is my friend," Jane replied. "He will reward you."

  "No. Go past point." He gestured to a warning flag. "Death."

  "No, I promise. He… oh, very well," Jane sighed. "Will you wait here so I can bring you payment?"

  The old man shook his head and offered a toothy smile. "Namaste, Marchioness."

  Jane stared, stunned, and watched as he pulled away. How did he know who she was? She recalled Rama's words—it was his job to know everything. With a sigh, she picked her way to the palace docks and waved down a sentry.

  Minutes later, Jane was in a litter carried by two men, being taken swiftly to the high white iron gates. She entered the palace and made her way towards the women's' quarters to find her friend and a sympathetic ear.

  "Janie! What are you doing here?" Lynette squealed, running to greet her. "And what are you wearing? Are those Philip's clothes?"

  "He left for the warehouse this morning. Without me," Jane said with a pout.

  "But you just got married!"

  "The business is important. I am just angry that he refused to allow me to join him. He's so pig-headed that it makes me want to scream."

  "Men's fulfillment comes from their employment and their cocks. Nothing more," Lynette sniffed in defense of her friend.

  "I should have known better," Jane twined her elbow within Lynette's. "I knew this undivided attention was too good to last."

  "He is going to be very severe with you when he discovers that you left the cottage and traveled here by yourself. I fear for your sitting privileges."

  "Yes, I know, not that I care. I am just so angry with him! I cannot believe that the servants locked me in my room like a recalcitrant child."

  "They have been instructed to follow the master's orders above all things, especially when it comes to you. Your papa is going to be very cross, young lady," a deep voice said from behind them. "What are you doing here?"

  "Uncle Rama? I can explain—"

  "You can save your explanation for when Philip returns." Rama lifted her chin to look at him. "Through the jungle and by boat? You ought to be grateful that I'm not your papa, Little Monkey. Your bottom would be quite unhappy by the time I finished with it."

  Jane winced, remembering her time with the powerful man. Philip had never been that severe with her. At least, not yet.

  "Do you have anything you would care to say to me?" Rama asked, tucking Lynette under his arm and staring sternly at the fidgeting girl.

  "No, sir."

  "Then go to the guest cottage and stay there until you are told otherwise. Hurry, now. I will send word to Philip and the servants so that they do not worry."

  Jane hung her head, trudged through the halls and outside to the garden. She turned a corner, and collided with the toothless old woman. "You!" Jane clasped her hands around the fragile upper arm
s. "Please, tell me who you are. I know you were in England. Please!"

  The woman put her finger to her lips, and then touched the area between Jane's eyes where the bindi traditionally was placed. She then reached down into her basket, took a yellow lotus flower into the palm of her hand and then transferred it to Jane. With gnarled, bony fingers, the old woman enclosed the girl's hands around the flower—gently, so as not to crush, but to cradle the delicate petals.

  Jane stared at the flower, wondering what the woman was trying to tell her. She looked into the gentle, wise old eyes. "Tell me. I am confused."

  The woman touched her 'middle eye' again, and cupped Jane's cheek with her palm.

  "Are you trying to tell me that I'm not being confined, but protected?"

  The woman smiled and nodded. She pressed Jane's hands firmly around the flower, and then gestured to open them. The petals unfurled slowly, unblemished and uncrushed. She repeated the gesture, this time firmly holding her hands around Jane's.

  "It's suffocating?"

  The old woman shook her head, and blew through the cracks in between their fingers.

  "I can feel the air, so not suffocating. Crushing? No? Please tell me!"

  The gesture was repeated a third time, with the woman spreading her hands.

  "The protection is firm, but won't break me?"

  The woman pulled Jane's hand to press against her warm lips and nodded. She pointed to a pond and gestured to release the lotus into the water and return it to freedom. Silently, Jane obeyed, and when she turned back around, the woman was gone.

  ***

  Jane looked up from her book into Philip's dark, intensely angry, face. She audibly gulped, and slowly sucked her lower lip into her mouth.

  "Papa, I'm sorry. I—"

  "Not a sound from you, little girl. The only reason I'm not already taking a strap to you is because I would never lay hand on you when angry or lacking self-control. What the bloody hell were you thinking? Didn't Rama warn you about the dangers of the jungle? And catching a boat with strangers—"

  "There were children present!"

  "Silence! Are you truly so naïve as to believe that someone won't harm you because children are around? Why won't you mind me?" He threw his hands into the air and walked across the room to look out over the grounds behind the building. Then he slapped his hands loudly against the wall, making Jane jump. "Must I cage you to keep you safe? No."

  He placed his forehead on his outstretched hand. "You cannot be confined any more than the monkey you are named for. I can punish you for this," he said, as he turned to look at her, "and believe me, I will. But something more needs to be done. Something to remind you that, above all things, I am, and always will be, your papa. And that title includes not only watching for your safety, but teaching you to obey reasonable requests."

  "I'm sorry," came the whisper. Searching her memory as far back as when they first met when she'd been only six, Jane could only recall a single time when she had seen him as enraged as he was at that moment—and it had not been with her. The gardener's son had pushed her backwards into the mud and made her cry. Philip came to her rescue with the hot temper of youth and, after breaking the bully's nose, he'd carried her to the main house, where he tucked a blanket over her lap after setting her on the couch, removed her little boots, and retrieved a cup of hot tea for her to sip. He was no longer that boy, though, and the anger he felt now was due to her own spiteful actions. Jane's heart sank, as she recognized the extent of her foolish defiance. She lowered her face and pictured the golden lotus.

  "Philip, the old woman came to me again. She had a yellow—"

  "I do not want to hear any stories about the goddess coming to give you another flower. Damn it, Jane. One night! Why is it impossible for you to obey me for one single night?"

  "I thought that—"

  "I was not asking you," he growled, crossing his muscular arms across his chest and squaring his chin. "You are grounded, young lady. Indefinitely. You will go nowhere, and do nothing without an escort. And I mean nothing. I think it's time we revisited the past. You have no adult privileges. You will have a set bedtime. You will not speak unless spoken to…"

  "Philip…"

  "You will follow every rule I make to the last letter, or I will take a switch to your bottom until you can't sit for a week."

  Jane's eyes filled with tears. "We were just married. How could you…"

  "No, my dear—how could you? We will depart in the morning. In the meantime, do not leave this room. Have I made myself clear?"

  "Yes."

  "I beg your pardon?"

  "Yes, Papa."

  Philip turned to leave, then stopped in his tracks. After a pause, he turned around to his wife. "I love you, Jane. I love you more than this business. If maintaining ownership of this company causes me to lose you, then I will relinquish my half to shareholders. The company is nothing to me if I do not have you."

  "I don't understand."

  He stepped forward and caught her hands in his before kneeling next to where she sat. "I want us to sell the company. Nothing can come between us, ever."

  "You would rather sell the company than allow me to take my rightful place as your partner?" Jane's eyes widened.

  "No! I would rather sell it than lose you. Either to an accident or an argument."

  "There would be no argument if you would simply accept my ability to assist you. Philip," she squeezed his hands, "you gave me the education I needed to become an efficient and productive business partner. Why will you not allow me to use what you yourself have given me?" She took his silence as permission to continue. "You were excited about my joining you. That is, you were until we came to India. Have I done something to make you question my abilities?"

  "No." He kissed the backs of her hands. "I have never doubted your ability to assist me. What I doubt is your ability to obey me. Listen carefully to me. With the British influence growing in the country, and the takeover of the governing forces here, there are those who seek to destroy any alliances that develop. They view people like myself… us… as traitors, because we are committed to both cultures."

  "Can you blame them? This is not an influence, it is an invasion. They have taken over this land, disrespect the people and their culture, and are forcing political changes because they think they are better. They don't know better, they are just stronger."

  "You've fallen in love with India, Jane. Things are not perfect here."

  "I know that. What I am saying is that I don't blame the people for protesting. I know how it feels to be snubbed for being different."

  "What you don't understand is that there are some very powerful groups who are growing into their political unrest, and becoming physically violent. They have started to cut off and destroy supplies. And suppliers."

  She sensed he was beginning to calm down. "What are you not telling me?" Her question was asked cautiously.

  Philip sighed. "There was a murder on the docks, followed by arson. All the warehouses belonging to that company were destroyed. Ours are located at the far end, and were left untouched this time. Rama suspects that we were spared because our company is known to promote the local economy more than others, and because we are very generous in the returns."

  "Why didn't you tell me?"

  "Would that have stopped you? No. You would have seen it as a grand adventure. If I could trust you to be content with solely keeping ledgers and the accounts of inventory, I would place you at the desk myself. But," he lifted her chin, "I fear that you will become restless and present to a place where you may end up getting caught in a knife fight or a fire. Deny this is true."

  Jane hung her head, wisely choosing to avoid defending her unruly behavior. "I cannot. My present actions prove it so."

  "Yes, they do." Philip inhaled deeply. "However, you are correct. I have taught you the skills necessary to run this company and am wasting your talents." He straightened himself and walked to the window, a deep furrow in
his brow as his contemplated his thoughts. After several minutes of silence, he turned to her. "This is how things will be done from this point forward. Unless I decide otherwise, and with good cause, the bookkeeping will be part of your new schedule of responsibilities…"

  "You're allowing me to help?" Jane brightened.

  "I am allowing you to uphold a task that just happens to be associated with the company. The extent of involvement that I permit you will be dependent upon your behavior and degree of trustworthiness. Do not look pleased, Jane. We will be headmaster and pupil once again, only this time with different consequences to when you were a child."

  "I'm just happy that you're allowing me a second chance."

  "I may be pig-headed, but I am not imprudent."

  Jane reddened, knowing that Lynette had chewed his ear prior to his joining her. "Do not give me reason to regret bringing you to India. I am already questioning my wisdom in doing so."

  "Papa—"

  "No more talking, little girl. It is time for you to prepare for bed."

  "But the sun has barely dropped."

  "Children will be put to bed early in my household. Your life… our life… is about to take a turn. I have neglected several significant aspects in your upbringing, starting with self-discipline. You've always resisted structure in the past, and I've allowed myself to be swayed by your tears. That is going to change immediately." With a chaste kiss on her forehead and a warning to stay in the room, he departed.

  When he did not return to her bed that evening, Jane was in no more doubt as to the extent of trouble she had managed to create for herself this time.

  ***

  Usha came to her the following morning with a tray of food and a sympathetic ear. Jane took comfort in her adopted mother's arms, sobbing despondently, and grieving over the outcome of her newly wed state. The older woman rocked her lovingly, reassuring her that all would be well, and that her situation was not unusual for those involved in the dynamics of discipline. She even shared her own story of her wedding night, confiding that she'd been so nervous that she'd overindulged in the betel and answered back to her new husband. Usha giggled, admitting that a new bride expected to be deflowered in her wedding bed, not paddled until she was unable to sit for two days. She additionally admitted that she held no regrets or second thoughts about the life Rama had offered her, and that time and experience had calmed and molded her into who she had become.