“You got my letter,” she said quietly, her finger tracing the prices on the machine.
“I have to talk to you.” The urgency in his voice startled her, and she half turned before remembering where she was.
“Is something wrong?”
“Not—exactly.” He hesitated. “Step behind those trunks when I tell you the coast is clear.”
She nodded. A few moments later, during which time she felt she had memorized the price of every chocolate bar in the machine, he said, “Now.”
Ada stepped to the side, around the corner of the machine, and found herself in the shadow of the trunks on one side. A moment later, Ravi followed her.
“I’m so glad to see you,” she began, her voice trembling because she could see from his face that all was not well.
He took her hand and pressed it. “I—I don’t know how to begin.”
His voice was so serious that she was frightened. “What is it? Has something happened?”
“Yes—but nothing bad.”
“That’s a relief.” She smiled.
He did not answer the smile. “You know I have been communicating with the Indian National Congress.”
Ada blinked. The rush of relief was quickly replaced with fear. “Have you done something wrong?”
“On the contrary, it seems I have impressed some very important men here in Britain, sympathizers with our cause. They have asked me to act as a bridge between them and the Congress in India.”
Ada gazed at him, eyes wide. “That’s…wonderful,” she said hesitantly. Was it? Her father, she knew, would consider it verging on treason.
“It is. It is work that I want to do, that I know I can do well, and that I would respect myself for doing.” He frowned as he spoke.
“So…”
“The post is in Bombay.”
There was a long silence.
“I see,” said Ada faintly. Bombay! It was so far away. “But—won’t you finish at Oxford first?”
He shook his head. “It is a dreamland, I see that now. For you, it’s the right place to be. But I must return to India. I feel it is my duty to do so.”
He was speaking again, and through the roaring in her ears she made out the rest of his words.
“…I wanted to say something to you at Oxford, but I could not find the words to express it. I have to try, though, so that you understand.” He took her hand. “I believe in India, and the other thing I believe in, Ada—is you.”
She looked at him in confusion.
“Ever since I met you on the Moldavia, and saw how determined you were to go to Oxford, to break out of the crystal prison that holds you trapped in society, I have admired you so much. You have the power to achieve anything you want to. I don’t want to take that away from you. I don’t want to be responsible for clipping your wings before you have even taken flight.”
“I don’t understand,” she said. “How would you do that?”
“By giving in to my dearest wish—and asking you to marry me.”
Ada’s breath hitched. The noisy train station suddenly seemed to fall silent as she stepped closer to Ravi, trembling. He hurried on.
“I have thought about it since I received news of this post. I dreamed that we could be married, that we could go to India together, that we would be poor but happy. And then I saw how selfish I was being.”
“But I will marry you,” she blurted out, realizing that this was what she had wanted all along. She had never wanted anything more in her life. “I will. How can you doubt it?”
“I don’t doubt it. But I will not ask you.”
She pulled her hands from his grasp. “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”
“I am saying that as much as I want us to be together, I know it is impossible. I have come to say good-bye.”
“But I love you,” she exclaimed.
“And I love you. Very much. Too much to shackle you to a marriage you will without doubt regret, to steal your chance of independence from you.”
“Ravi, what nonsense.” She was half laughing and half crying. “You have given me every kind of freedom. I have never felt as free as I have with you. You have made me determined to go to Oxford, and—”
“And how would you attend Oxford if you were in India, the wife of a low-paid clerk working for an organization that the British government considers bordering on treasonous?”
Ada opened her mouth, then closed it again. The shock must have showed on her face, because he put his arms around her and hugged her fiercely. She pressed her face into his chest, every ounce of her longing to be held like this forever.
“Ada, you will thank me for this. Not next year, perhaps, nor the year after that, but in ten years, when you have achieved all your dreams and are happy, you will know that I did the right thing.”
“You can’t leave me this way,” she choked out, her voice muffled by his white linen shirt.
“I have to. I have to, for your sake.”
Nothing in her life had prepared Ada for this terrible sense of loss. How could it have come to this? Even as Ravi spoke, she was thinking, Something will happen. Some thunderclap, some miracle will happen to change things.
But they remained standing where they were. The station clock struck twelve.
“The train—” Ada exclaimed. The time had gone so quickly.
Ravi looked pale. He caught her in his arms and kissed her. Ada let herself melt into the kiss, her head swimming as he ran his hands through her hair then wrapped a protective arm around her waist, tugging her closer still. Through her head ran the thoughts, This can’t be the last time. This can’t be. It’s impossible.
A beam of light flashed across her face, and instinctively they let go of each other. A porter was pulling the trolley away. Ravi backed into the shadows. The porter started as he saw Ada.
“Beg pardon, miss. Didn’t see you there. Hope I didn’t catch your dress?”
She managed to say, “No—no, I’m perfectly all right, thank you.”
“You shouldn’t stand there, really, miss—it’s dangerous, could get crushed.” The porter went on, but Ada hardly heard him.
Charlotte was standing at the end of the platform, looking directly at Ada. The expression on her face was unreadable. Ada’s heart almost stopped. Had she seen them kiss?
Slowly, reluctantly, she walked over to Charlotte. If she had seen, her reputation—her future—any chance of going to Oxford—were entirely in Charlotte’s power.
“So there you are,” Charlotte greeted her.
Ada did not reply. Was there some meaning behind that? Charlotte’s face was completely closed, but there was a spark in her eye—at least Ada thought there was.
“Do come along. The train is about to depart and the guard is getting most impatient with us.” Charlotte turned and marched off up the platform. Ada followed. She could see Fiona’s hat as she leaned from the window to beckon to them, and the guard waved peevishly.
She hurried onto the train, and the whistle blew almost at once. At least she had an excuse for her breathlessness and red face. Fiona was alone in the first-class carriage; Rose and Stella had already been exiled to the second-class one.
“Really, Ada, you do dawdle,” said Fiona with some annoyance.
“I’m sorry,” Ada murmured as she took her seat.
“I should think so,” Charlotte said, and Ada looked up sharply. Charlotte met her eyes for a fraction of a second, then turned to the window. The train began chuffing out of the station, the engines churning and the steam drifting back past the window in veils. Ada gazed through them, desperate for a last sight of Ravi. But hard as she looked, he was nowhere to be found. The train picked up speed, and then she could see nothing, not even the smoke, for the tears in her eyes.
Rose stood in her mother’s parlor, nervously twisting her fingers together as she waited for her mother to come in. She had known from the moment she stepped down from the pony trap that everyone at Somerton knew abo
ut her disgrace. It was in the sympathetic way that James’s eyes followed her as she walked into the house; in Priya’s startled, pitying look; in Cook’s silence and Martha’s malicious giggle. It was Stella’s doing, she was sure of it. And now the only person she had yet to face—the only person she was truly afraid of facing—was her mother.
The clock ticked steadily on, like water dripping away at stone. She had hardly noticed it before, but now it nagged at her. She found herself wishing there was a way to stop it—and then the door opened and her mother came in.
She looked exhausted. Deep shadows were under her eyes, and her face had lost its color. They gazed at each other silently. Then Rose gave a sob and rushed into her mother’s arms.
She felt her mother’s strong arms go around her and her rough hands stroking her hair. Rose sobbed on her shoulder. “Mother…Mother, I’m so sorry.”
“Hush, hush.” Her mother guided her to a chair and sat her down. She stood in front of her. Rose could not meet her eyes.
“Rose, what came over you?” The sorrow in her voice was worse than anger. “How could you do such a thing? Did you not imagine the consequences?”
Rose dried her eyes. She had to set matters straight. “I was foolish but I wasn’t wicked, I promise you. I know it was wrong of me to go to the concert. I know I was getting above my station. But I never enticed Mr. Templeton to kiss me. That I would never do.”
Her mother looked at her steadily, and then drew out an envelope from her pocket. Rose looked at it for a moment before realizing what it was. It was Ravi’s last reply to Miss Ada, directed to her. It must have missed her and arrived at Somerton in her absence. She turned pale.
“I see by your expression that you know something about this.” Her mother’s voice trembled.
“Have you opened it?”
“No. I wanted to give you the chance to explain.” She went on. “I want to believe you did not lead Mr. Templeton on. But then there is this: Rose, can you swear to me this letter is not from a man?”
There was silence. Rose could not reply. She could not bring herself to swear that it was not from a man when she knew very well it was.
“I thought as much. Oh, Rose!” Her mother’s voice broke, pained. “After all I have said to you about the importance of keeping a perfect reputation. If you only knew—” She broke off, and said instead, “Open it now, please. In front of me.”
Rose did not take the letter.
“I—I can’t.” If she let her mother know what was in it, Lady Ada’s secret would be out. How could she do that to her when she knew how it could destroy her life? Perhaps her mother would not tell, but Rose could not betray Lady Ada like that.
“You understand that if you refuse, I have to think the very worst of you.” Her mother’s voice was cold. Rose hung her head.
Her mother flung the letter down on the table and paced back and forth. “I cannot stay here when you have been dismissed. But what are we to do? Where are we to go? Everyone in the village will know your shame, Miss Ward will see to that. I don’t think you understand the trouble you have plunged us into.”
“I do, Mother.” Rose dashed away tears. “But I promise you, I will work at any honest job to support you. I can scrub floors, I can work in a factory or a field. I won’t let us starve.”
Her mother was hardly listening. “Perhaps it was my fault.” She gazed into the mirror above the fireplace. “Perhaps I should have told you the truth.”
Rose frowned. “What do you mean, Mother?”
Her mother turned quickly. “Rose, I—your father—” But before she could go on, there was a sharp rap at the door, and without waiting for an answer, Stella Ward walked in. After the first moment’s astonishment, Mrs. Cliffe drew herself up. “Ward, how dare you burst in here?”
Rose was looking at Stella’s face. The look of sheer triumph on it made her feel sick.
“You’re wanted in the drawing room, Cliffe.” Stella’s grin widened. “And you too, Rose.”
Rose was shocked by the casual insolence with which she spoke.
“Are you drunk?” her mother demanded.
“No need for your cheek. You should get up there at once. Her Ladyship’s waiting.”
She flounced out, head high. Rose looked at her mother in astonishment and fear.
“What can she be after?” Mrs. Cliffe murmured. She hurried after Stella, and Rose followed.
As Ada left the breakfast room, Cooper came up to her. Ada was startled to see that he looked worried.
“I beg your pardon, miss. But Lord Fintan is here.”
“Lord Fintan?” Ada was surprised but pleased. “Well…show him into the library, Cooper, and let my father know. You surely know what to do with a gentleman visitor better than I do!” She laughed, but her laughter died away as she saw his concern deepen.
“I’m afraid, miss, that your father is…engaged, in the drawing room, with Lady Westlake and Miss Templeton. There is no one else to receive His Lordship.”
“Is everything quite all right, Cooper?” Ada asked.
“I would not venture to say, my lady,” Cooper said mournfully. “Shall I show His Lordship into the library?”
“Y-yes. Please do, and I will be there presently.” Ada glanced into the mirror that hung in the hallway, and unconsciously smoothed her hair. Lord Fintan here at this time of the morning, and her father too busy to see him? It seemed extraordinary. But it was against the rules of hospitality to keep a guest waiting. She hurried to the library.
She found Lord Fintan standing in the light that came through the great arched windows, hands behind his back. On the desk beside him were a couple of books, half open.
“Lord Fintan! What a pleasant surprise.” She came forward, and he turned, smiling, to greet her.
“I’m so terribly sorry that my father isn’t available at once. Perhaps you can be persuaded to make do with me for a time?”
“I need no persuasion,” he said, bowing over her hand. “Really, it was you I came to see.”
Ada heard him, but she paid little attention. Her thoughts were on her father in the drawing room. What on earth could he be busy with? A sense of foreboding settled over her heart. There was one explanation, of course. If Charlotte truly had seen that kiss, and if she had told him…
“Shall we walk in the gardens?” Lord Fintan suggested. “It is such a fine morning.”
“With pleasure,” Ada managed; though at the thought of what might be happening in the drawing room, she had turned dizzy.
Lord Fintan unfastened the French windows and they stepped out onto the terrace. She took a deep breath of the fresh air and felt better. The sun glinted on the lake, and the horizon of rolling hills made her relax at once.
They strolled down toward the ha-ha. Ada kept up with Lord Fintan’s conversation mechanically. Had Charlotte seen anything? And if she had, would she tell?
“…must have wondered why I came here to see you.”
Ada became aware that Lord Fintan was looking into her face with a particularly serious expression.
“I—” She remembered, then, that Charlotte saw her as a rival for Lord Fintan’s affections. Could Charlotte have told him about the kiss? She flushed red and could not look him in the eye.
“I see you have some suspicion,” Lord Fintan went on.
Ada could not manage a single word in answer.
“I will take your evident confusion as a hopeful sign,” he went on, more gently. “With all your strength of mind, your nobility of soul, you have never done anything that could cause a true lady to blush. That is why I feel so strongly that I am doing the right thing. Ada, will you marry me?”
Ada gaped at him. She realized that her expression was the opposite of a lady’s, and hastily closed her mouth.
“But—but what about Charlotte?” she found herself saying. At once, she wished she could sink through the ground.
Lord Fintan’s expression changed just a fraction. “Ah. I understand.�
�� He nodded. “No, no”—he waved a hand as she began to stumblingly apologize—“there is no need to say anything. I certainly do owe you an explanation. You are rightly sensitive.” He cleared his throat, looking a little embarrassed. “I hardly like to say this, as of course she is your relative now, but Miss Templeton and I—well, our connection at Gravelley Park was not of the kind likely to lead to marriage. I will say no more.”
Ada nodded, shocked and astonished. So Charlotte had behaved…indiscreetly with Lord Fintan. She would never have thought it of such a calculating person. Perhaps she had misjudged Charlotte. Perhaps Charlotte felt about Lord Fintan the way she felt about Ravi.
“I understand you may feel some repulsion at the idea of my connection with your stepsister.” Lord Fintan kicked at a clod of grass with his shoe. Ada realized, to her amazement, that he was embarrassed. “I want you to know that I never meant for her to misunderstand my intentions.”
Poor Charlotte, thought Ada.
She hesitated. Lord Fintan looked up the slope toward the house. “Isn’t that your sister?” he said in quite a different tone of voice. “Should she run like that in her state of health?”
Ada whirled around. Georgiana was running down the slope toward them—really running, with no thought for her dress or the thin indoor shoes, which slipped on the dewy grass. As Georgiana reached them, Ada saw that her face was streaked with tears. Her breath came in great rasping gasps.
“Georgie! What is it?” Ada ran to meet her. Georgiana flung herself into her arms, just as she had done when she was a little girl and she had scraped her knee or fallen in the mud.
“You must come at once—please come at once,” she sobbed. Her legs seemed about to give way.
Ada slipped one arm under her. Lord Fintan instantly took her other arm, and together they supported her.
“The drawing room—oh, it’s too terrible—”
“But what has happened?” Ada’s thoughts jumped to her father. Perhaps he had been taken ill. Terror caught her and gave her new energy. Together, she and Lord Fintan, not needing to exchange a word, helped Georgiana up to the house. Georgiana collapsed on a chair and Ada knelt before her, trying to calm her with words, while Lord Fintan rang the bell vigorously.
Cinders & Sapphires (At Somerton) Page 20
