Of course, it was pointless. I was not sitting close enough to him. I was the wife of a lowly officer, not important enough to sit with the honoured guest. Nevertheless, the chamberlain insisted on being presented to the ladies individually. We paraded past him dropping deep curtsies. He offered us the traditional gifts, tiny handfuls of emeralds and pearls with minuscule diamonds winking among them.
As I curtsied I contrived to lean close to this panther-like creature so that he absorbed the perfume of roses. I looked deep into his dark eyes and he returned a look that made me shudder inwardly. His arched black eyebrows met in a puzzled frown; a crimson circle between them that I knew to be a caste mark.
‘Madam,’ he murmured, and I smiled invitingly. Then I was moving along making way for the next memsahib. When we returned to our quarters Mr M said I had ‘overdone’ the perfume.
‘There is no need to smell like a Sultan’s harem,’ he remarked in his coarse manner. I ignored him. Fortunately, Adelaide had acquired a stock of oriental perfumes during her trips to the bazaar in Calcutta – sandalwood, jasmine, musk – as well as attar of roses and her hoard of silver bangles.
That night when Mr M was carousing with the officers I sat at the window in my room which was open to the stars. I smoked pensively on my hookah, occasionally nibbling at a sugared cinnamon curd cake that Adelaide had smuggled back from the feast. Fudge snored contentedly at my feet.
As I wondered how I could arrange a meeting with the god-like panther man, I remembered the soldier who had slipped the message from Captain Marshfield into my tent. I might prevail on him to arrange a secret rendezvous in the cause of discovering information to send to London. It was a feeble chance. There was no guarantee that the young officer would be able to gain the ear of such an important man – or that I had even caught the chamberlain’s attention. But I was quietly confident.
Chapter 36
May 9th
My opportunity came the following afternoon. When we were resting during the heat of the day, I wrote a note for the officer which my faithful maid managed to deliver. She found him in the stables where he was checking on his horse, and after a little of the banter for which she is becoming renowned, she slipped the note to him.
Of course, Adelaide is a curiosity here, as she was in Calcutta. No other Englishwoman has a maid from home with her. There is a great deal of talk, and I even heard a rumour that she is thought to be my illegitimate sister.
While I waited impatiently for a reply from the captain’s envoy I busied myself acquiring another horse with the money from the sale of poor Byron in Benares. I have called my new Arab steed Byron II and I plan to ride out into the surrounding country – although I will need an escort as bodyguard.
May 16th
The other wives now regard me as unwise, deeply eccentric and possibly scandalous. How they would revile me if they knew of the situation with Mr M! The tiresome Company official called today demanding the jewels we have been given. I managed to buy a few but the price was scandalous. As I gazed at the very small scattering of emeralds and pearls in the palm of my hand I realised that they would neither ensure my escape back to Europe nor provide a comfortable future.
May 18th
Today there is great excitement in the fort because letters have arrived from England. To my delight I found one from Selena as well as two letters from my family, sent by Lizzie and my mother. I opened Selena’s letter in great excitement.
My Dearest Lydia,
What an age has passed since we last met in the little house at Stoke Newington. We read the dreadful news of your shipwreck but Miles made enquiries and we were overjoyed to learn that you were safe. What a dreadful experience! Indeed, my dear, you will have sufficient material for another Gothic novel before too long!
I trust you are safe and not too incommoded in that strange land. We hear that it is a most unhealthy place for Europeans.
We have some astonishing and welcome news for you. Do you remember that Miles’ family has a small estate in Ireland? I did not expect that it would ever affect our lives in any way as there are others in direct line of inheritance. However, the ways of Providence are strange. We heard a few months ago that Miles’ Uncle Ephraim had died of a sudden seizure. (He was over fond of the port bottle.) Only a few weeks later we heard that his heir had met with a fatal riding accident! The brother of the heir disappeared in Canada some time ago and has been officially pronounced dead.
Thus, Lydia, my dear Miles inherits! In fact, long before you receive this letter we will be installed in our new home near Drogheda. After so many misfortunes we are relieved beyond measure to be settled and I trust that you will soon be in the same position. When you are able to return home I hope you will visit us and stay for as long as you wish. With deep affection, I am,
Your friend Selena Caruthers
* Miles sends much love and good wishes.
What astounding news from my friends! I rejoiced in their good fortune and re-read the letter many times as several dull days passed in which I despaired of hearing from my panther god. I made a short expedition on horseback accompanied by a native soldier.
The forests were alive with chattering monkeys, shrieking mynah birds, tree mice and bandicoots, and all manner of exotic fauna that I am not yet able to identify. The emerald canopy stretched away to bare hills and glimpses of blue lakes. Little pavilions and solitary, vine-covered tombs called chhatris were dotted among the vegetation. My escort showed me India’s largest Banyan tree located near the fort in enormous splendour.
It gave me a glimpse of an enchanted land until the heat grew too fierce and I returned to the fort. Lying in my charpai with Fudge in a room open to the elements and the mosquitoes, I reflected that the golden sun pouring into the room in the early morning was a great compensation. Adelaide has arranged some muslin over the windowless apertures. This reduces the midday glare but I fear it does not deter the mosquitoes.
Claudine asserts that the problem is not as great here because of the height. She insists that Rahambore is a healthier place than most, but she warns me about riding into the countryside. ‘Most unwise,’ she tells me.
May 25th
How bored I am with the society here. My only distraction is riding out on Byron II, smoking my hookah and taking Fudge for walks around the Fort. I have told them all that I lived at the Portuguese court in Brazil for two years and am therefore familiar with the tropics, but I fear they do not believe me. Why would the wife of a lowly officer have such a grand background? If they only knew.
I finally opened the letters I had received from my family. They had been put aside under a cushion until I could summon the strength to open them and receive the lectures and recriminations I knew they would contain. However, when I had unsealed them I lacked the courage to read them and put them in a trunk for later.
I am developing a love/hate relationship with India. Oh! The dirt and delight of this country, the colour and the squalor, the disease and the magnificence! Meryton scarcely seems to be in the same universe, and the stately halls of Pemberley do not compare with the marble and gold of the Maharaja’s palace.
This evening while we were dining with the officers and their wives, the young officer who is Marshfield’s envoy contrived to pass a note to me. It instructed me to ride out tomorrow with an escort to a certain place in the forest. I would then be taken to a secret pavilion. You can imagine, dear reader, the turbulence in my bosom when I read this note in the privacy of my room. During the meal I had contrived to direct glances at the panther god but he did not look in my direction. Indeed, he did not smile at all, merely listening with a serious expression to the senior officers sitting next to him.
His coat on this occasion was burgundy silk latticed with gold, and the buttons were small rubies. His turban was decorated with a ruby and diamond clasp. I could scarcely take my eyes from him and indeed, Mr M admonished me sharply at one point, ‘Your mouth is hanging open, my dear, most unseemly.’ He i
s intolerable.
May 27th
On the following morning I was waiting impatiently for my escort to arrive. Mr M had left for his soldierly duties and I wore my best riding habit and had doused myself liberally with jasmine perfume. We mounted up and set off for the forest. My heart was beating a drum-roll so loud that I was sure my escort could hear it, but his expression remained impassive as he signalled me to halt near an ancient tomb in a clearing in the forest. With a quick salute he rode away and I was left alone in some trepidation, listening to the murmuring vegetation and the loud cries of animals and birds.
Within minutes I heard a crashing sound, and to my amazement an elephant appeared, trampling through the undergrowth thus causing Byron II to shy away in fear. A splendidly decorated howdah was perched on the beast’s back. I quickly tied Byron II to a tree and the mahout assisted me into the howdah and the waiting arms of the panther god.
‘Madam,’ he exclaimed as we embraced. ‘I do not even know your name, but no minds!’ His English was curious but enchanting.
‘My name is Lydia, your Grace, your Highness,’ I burbled, unsure of the proper address. ‘Leeja,’ he replied. ‘You will be my English jewel.’
We hugged as the elephant crashed its way to a nearby pavilion. With an imperious wave the mahout and his charge were dismissed. We were alone in the little open-air pavilion lying on a plinth covered with soft silk bedding. I held my breath and closed my eyes as my young god began to disrobe me.
A few hours later we were sitting side by side on the bier, naked except for the chamberlain’s jewels that now decorated my body. Ropes of pearls and rubies lay on my bosom and a belt of emeralds and gold spanned my waist. Kymar Singh even removed his heavy silver wrist and ankle bangles and placed them on strategic parts of my person. The golden light sent shafts of mottled sunshine through the trees and into our pleasure palace. ‘Now we drink sherbert,’ the chamberlain announced, and a pitcher and drinking vessels were produced from a basket set nearby. ‘Then we make love again,’ he commanded. How can one describe the pleasure of love-making with a dark golden being, half-man, half-panther?
When our idyll was over, I was transported back to the clearing and I rode Byron II back to the fort in a daze. Nothing seemed real to me for some time, and Mr M remarked on my attitude, believing that I had a touch of the sun. The officers’ wives again warned me of the dangers of riding alone in the forest but Mr M does not discourage me. Perhaps he continues to hope I will be eaten by a tiger. Adelaide took one look at me and said I looked ‘fair discombobulated.’
I was still in a daze when, that evening, we attended a ball at the fort. Usually I love to dance, but the absence of Kymar Singh made the evening insupportable to me. The Indians consider dancing disgraceful for respectable women and only the nautch girls perform it. Later, Mr M edged away to gamble with the young officers. They play for very high stakes here, two guinea points at short whist and one hundred guineas on the rubber frequently. Mr M will be ruined, if indeed he is not so already. When I returned to our quarters Adelaide said that she and a native servant had killed three large scorpions after their evening meal.
Chapter 37
June 19th
An enchanted three weeks followed in which the panther-god and I contrived to meet every day in our usual place. I had allowed myself to be swept away on a tide of passion and romantic dreams, dear reader. My susceptibilities are well-known, but I defy any woman not to be overwhelmed by my golden man. The wives of the garrison are all a-twitter about him, gossiping ceaselessly and paying markedly more attention to their appearance.
It was not unknown for memsahibs to have discreet affairs with certain Indian gentlemen, and the menfolk were known to take Indian wives and even concubines. The famous Colonel Gardner, related to a titled family in England, has married a princess from the royal family in Delhi. Nevertheless, these events were not commonplace and I wondered anxiously whether anyone had connected my rides into the forest with Kymar Singh’s absences from the fort. But whenever the green Eden of the forest closed around me and the little pavilion appeared in the distance, I forgot everything but the pleasures awaiting me. On this particular day I was given a surprise.
‘We will go to the lake, Leeja,’ Kymar Singh told me. ‘It is beautiful there with water-lilies all around and a boat awaits us.’ The small tiger-headed vessel was poled by one of the chamberlain’s servants and as we moved slowly through the water-lilies, we lolled on the cushions, abandoning ourselves to sensual delights. Kymar Singh pointed to a log on the lakeside which suddenly began to move. It was a crocodile, one of the many infesting the lake.
Later we returned to the pavilion where I was wound in a vivid pink and gold sari and a coil of large pearls and diamonds was wound around my neck. ‘You are made more beautiful,’ my lover told me in his strange, endearing English. As the days passed he showered me with gifts, Cashmere shawls, saris and jewellery, more precious gems than I had ever seen, but I could not keep them in the fort. They remained with the chamberlain until the time when I could collect them unobserved.
I had told Kymar Singh all about my trials with Mr M, and he had casually offered to have him killed! ‘Do not be afraid – it will be an accident only,’ he told me. I hastily explained that that would not do at all. I became quite agitated and he drew me close, kissing me passionately.
Another hour of bliss must have passed before I found myself riding back to the fort. I had been away three hours. Surely someone must have noticed? Instead, I found Adelaide waiting in detective mode.
‘Have you noticed, madam, that Mr M’s things are being moved?’ I confessed that I had noticed little these past weeks. My mind had been on other things, cocooned in a love-in-the-mist haze.
‘His things is all packed up but he isn’t goin’ anywhere,’ she remarked. ‘No one is goin’ anywhere; we’ve just arrived. Why is he packing his things… and why did he do it himself? There are plenty of servants here.’
‘I cannot imagine,’ I told her. ‘Perhaps his debts are now so great that he is attempting to sneak away by moonlight, although I cannot think how he will accomplish it.’ We both paused to contemplate a vision of Mr M sneaking off through the wild countryside on a purloined camel at midnight. Perhaps he might even try to steal Byron II – perish the thought. I fingered my three rows of pearls nervously.
Adelaide vowed to watch the fellow closely, ‘as you are otherwise engaged, madam,’ she said, giving me a meaningful look.
It was true: Kymar Singh and I had discussed the future. He explained to me that our idyll could last only for a few weeks. Then he must return to the Maharaja in Jaipur and resume his duties. Because he knew my story, he would be the means to ensure my escape from my meaningless liaison. The jewels would ensure my welfare and he would provide an escort to Bombay.
I had grown to love many aspects of India, but I knew my future could not be in this land. The thought of leaving my panther-god was intolerable but inevitable. This might be all I could expect in this life – snatched, brief encounters of delight. I wept a few tears and was enclosed once again in my god’s embrace.
I rode back to the fort through the orange-red flame-trees contemplating how I would unshackle myself from Mr M. Little did I know that he would save me the trouble. My last sight of Kymar Singh was in public. He invited some of the garrison to a cheetah hunt, and to my surprise and embarrassment I was included. Ten people were assembled, some on elephants and some in carts. I could see that the wife of the garrison commander was offended by my presence, but I cared little. Kymar Singh’s hunting leopard was in one of the carts with his handlers. When they removed the cap from his eyes and released his chain, the beast turned and placed his forepaws on the handler’s shoulders.
I held my breath knowing that the animal could have torn out the man’s throat, but he simply jumped down and sped off into the forest. Several antelope were brought down but I did not enjoy this sad spectacle. I sat in Kymar Singh’s howdah forci
ng myself to avoid his gaze for the last time. The commander’s wife made stilted conversation with him.
Chapter 38
June 21st
When we returned to the fort, the soldiers were assembled to bid farewell to the chamberlain. His gorgeously attired escort rode out of one of the seven great gates, with Kymar Singh at its head in a red satin coat blazing in the sunlight. I watched him leave with a horrid dead feeling in my heart.
It was only after the procession had departed that I became aware of some turbulence in the European ranks. A senior officer took me aside and asked me sternly where my husband was. I remembered then that Mr M had not been among the assembled officers. I protested that I had not seen him that day, having left early for the cheetah hunt. I explained that my husband (how I choked when I used those words) must have returned late last night and had decided not to disturb me.
‘I assumed he had slept elsewhere,’ I told the officer and his aides. I could not understand the knowing looks they gave each other. Then I was told that Claudine, my erstwhile friend, was also missing. The expression on her husband’s face was murderous and I was told that the two were presumed to have left together.
When I returned to our quarters and told Adelaide, she said it all made sense.
‘They must have been planning to run off together. That was why he packed his things. He thought you would not notice, madam. He once told me you were so bemused you must be losing your wits!’ I was surprised he had noticed anything. We met so rarely.
The Bad Miss Bennet Abroad Page 18
