The Scarlet Kimono (Choc Lit)

by Christina Courtenay

  She stifled a sigh. She had to admit he was a fine figure of a man. Those sparkling eyes of his did strange things to a girl’s insides, and when he smiled at you, it was impossible not to admire him. Just thinking about it made her heart rate increase.

  ‘You are so wicked.’ Eliza sounded almost envious, but also slightly disapproving.

  ‘Not really. I’m sure I can keep the captain at arm’s length for a while. After all, it’s the thrill of the chase that excites men, isn’t it? Then perhaps nearer the wedding, well, we shall see.’

  ‘Have a care, Kate, there are several months to go before your nuptials, remember? You wouldn’t want Mr Forrester to become suspicious. I mean … are you sure your husband won’t notice anything during your wedding night?’

  ‘No, I’ll make sure he has plenty to drink beforehand, then he won’t remember a thing and I can assure him I did my duty.’ Kate sounded well pleased with her own cleverness. ‘All brides know it’s wise to bring a small vial of chicken blood in any case. You know, to make sure the sheets are properly stained.’

  Hannah was very happy that her sister was marrying at last and leaving the house, since the two of them weren’t exactly the best of friends. Kate had always been the acknowledged beauty of the family, with her shining blonde tresses and curvaceous figure, while Hannah’s wild bright red hair and slight build fell far short of such perfection. She’d tried not to feel jealous of her sister’s looks, but it was a tall order, especially when their parents seemed to favour their older daughter at all times. Hannah now began to feel extremely sorry for the unfortunate Mr Forrester too though. He would have to put up with Kate instead and she wondered if he knew what he was letting himself in for.

  Righteous indignation on his behalf, as well as envy of her sister for having caught the captain’s eye, filled her to such an extent that she forgot her determination to stay hidden. She flung the curtain aside and stepped out. Eliza let out a little shriek of fright, while Kate just blinked in surprise.

  ‘Really, Kate, you can’t do that, it would be utterly wrong,’ Hannah protested. ‘I’m going to tell Mother this instant.’

  Kate looked her up and down as if she were nothing more than a tiresome little flea. Her eyes narrowed and she put her hands on her hips. ‘Oh, no you won’t or I swear I’ll make your life a misery.’

  ‘You already do and it’s not right. Poor Mr Forrester will be a cuckold before he’s even married. Not even you could sink that low.’

  Kate’s face turned an angry puce. ‘How dare you tell me what I can and can’t do, you little gudgeon? What do you know of such things anyway?’ Mercurial as always, she suddenly drew herself up and assumed an innocent expression. ‘Besides, who said that I was going to do anything other than speak to Captain Rydon in the garden? Where is the harm in exchanging a few words with him?’

  ‘That was not what you were implying.’

  Kate’s face changed yet again and became smug. ‘I know what it is – you’re jealous.’ She turned to Eliza. ‘Hannah is infatuated with the captain just because he spoke kindly to her once. She gazes at him whenever he’s here, like an adoring puppy with a new master. I doubt he’s noticed though. Why would he?’ She laughed and glanced pointedly at the unruly copper curls escaping from under Hannah’s cap. Eliza tittered.

  ‘I am not jealous. I don’t care what he does,’ Hannah shot back, but she felt the tell-tale colour flooding her cheeks and Kate raised her delicate brows.

  ‘Perhaps I should let him in on the secret,’ she taunted. ‘I’m sure he would be very amused to find himself the object of your affection. After all, he is used to grown-up women, not little girls.’

  ‘I’m seventeen, I am not a child.’

  ‘Well, no one would know it to look at you,’ Kate smirked. She glanced at Hannah’s thin figure before running her hands down her own, well-rounded one. Hannah gritted her teeth. It was true her body hadn’t yet matured into Kate’s generous proportions, and she was well aware most men would certainly prefer her sister, but that didn’t make her a child.

  ‘Captain Rydon knows perfectly well how old I am and …’ Hannah broke off. There was no point arguing about this after all.

  ‘Actually,’ Kate said to Eliza, turning her back on Hannah as if she was no longer in the room, ‘Hannah probably wants Henry too, seeing as how he’s such a good match. She can never hope to equal it.’

  ‘What are you talking about? Why should I want your betrothed?’

  Kate whirled around, her eyes dancing with suppressed amusement. ‘Because he is so much better than the man father has in mind for you, of course.’

  ‘Father hasn’t even thought about my marriage yet, he’s been too busy arranging yours.’

  ‘That’s where you’re wrong, sister dear. I heard him discussing the subject with Mama only two days ago and the name Ezekiel Hesketh came up in the conversation quite a few times.’ The smirk appeared on Kate’s features again as Hannah felt the blood drain out of her face.

  ‘Ezekiel Hes – No, you’re making that up. I hate you!’ Hannah headed for the door with angry steps, but her sister reached it before her and pinched her upper arm viciously.

  ‘Ouch!’

  ‘Not a word to anyone, do you hear? Or you will be very, very sorry,’ Kate hissed. Her threat was accompanied by a look that promised dire retribution, but Hannah was long past caring about that.

  ‘I’ll do as I see fit,’ she replied through gritted teeth.

  ‘You will not!’ Kate raised her hand, no doubt to administer another pinch, and Hannah put her hands up to defend herself. Unfortunately Kate moved forward at the same time and Hannah’s knuckles accidentally connected with her sister’s perfect little nose. Blood spurted out, running down onto Kate’s Cupid’s bow mouth.

  Kate immediately began to screech at the top of her shrill voice and stamped her feet for good measure, like a toddler having a tantrum. Hannah watched these antics with disdain for a moment, but then her heart sank. Now I’ve done it. As if to confirm this thought, rapid footsteps were heard coming up the stairs, the door was thrown open and their mother arrived, slightly breathless from rushing.

  ‘What is going on here, pray?’ she asked, taking in the scene through narrowed eyes.

  ‘Oh, Mama, just look what she’s done.’ Kate burst into noisy tears and threw herself onto her mother’s ample bosom. Mistress Marston sighed and shook her head at Hannah, then pointed towards the door, an expression of deep irritation on her face.

  ‘To the kitchen with you. If you can’t behave like a well-brought up young lady, you can help the scullery maid for the rest of the day. Honestly, I despair of you ever growing out of your hoydenish ways.’ With the other hand she cradled the back of her older daughter’s head, stroking the lovely fair hair in a soothing motion. ‘Let me see, my love, it might not be as bad as all that.’ She raised Kate’s face and peered at the red nose with a concerned expression.

  Hannah bit her lip. ‘But Mother, she’s going to –,’ she began, but was cut off almost immediately.

  ‘Not another sound out of you. Upon my word, I am seriously beginning to doubt you will ever learn any sense. How could you? And with your sister’s betrothal feast so close. You should be ashamed of yourself.’

  ‘That’s not fair! It’s Kate who has no shame.’ Hannah swallowed hard, trying to contain the tears of frustration that threatened to spill over.

  ‘Go I say, or you’ll be doing kitchen duties for the remainder of the week.’ Again the imperious finger pointed to the door and Hannah turned towards it with a sigh. She had known it would be no use. If only she’d controlled her temper she might have had a chance to convince her mother of Kate’s perfidy, but now it was too late. Her sister had won yet again.

  In a last act of defiance Hannah slammed the door as hard as she could, then leaned against the wall outside rubbing absently at her new bruise. She clenched her fists in impotent fury.

  ‘Why?’ she whispered. ‘Why doe
s she always have things her way?’ She knew that it went against God’s commandments, but in that moment she hated her sister as never before.

  And Ezekiel Hesketh? Surely her parents could never contemplate such an alliance? The man may be a widower and a respected lawyer, but he had five badly brought up children and was old enough to be Hannah’s father. Well, almost. Hannah shuddered violently and began to run down the stairs as if all the demons of hell were after her.

  ‘I won’t marry him,’ she muttered. ‘They can’t make me.’

  But she knew that they could.

  Chapter Two

  Northern Japan, June 1611

  The Lady Hasuko Takaki was unbelievably exquisite and Taro Kumashiro couldn’t take his eyes off her as she walked slowly towards him.

  Small and dainty, his wife-to-be held herself with a grace that looked effortless, although he knew it must have taken her years to perfect. From her tiny steps to the way she unfurled her fan, she was the epitome of a lady of high birth. However, the intricate hair style, the combs made of finest gilded lacquer and even the costly scarlet kimono all paled in comparison to the lady herself.

  She was quite simply breathtaking.

  He continued to stare at her as she approached, resisting a sudden impulse to leap up and run towards her, which would have been unthinkable. Her long, pale neck, as willowy as that of a crane, rose from the collar of her robe and her eyes were luminous and just the right shape. In fact, he couldn’t find a single fault with her and he had to stop a huge grin from spreading across his features as he contemplated his good fortune.

  Not only was Lady Hasuko personable, she brought him many other advantages. More land and wealth, as well as connections to some of the most powerful families in the north. In truth, those were the things he had wanted most when he made this alliance, but he now realised there would be so much more. He was a very lucky man.

  As Hasuko advanced down the length of the castle’s Great Hall, he stopped noticing their surroundings and didn’t hear any of the whispered comments all around him. Her father walked a few steps ahead of her, dressed in rich blue silk with fiery red and yellow dragons embroidered all over, but Taro only had eyes for Hasuko. The bride, her family and their retainers came to a halt in front of the dais and bowed. First Hasuko’s father – the merest inclination of the head indicating his high status – then the lady herself, and finally the rest of the group. Taro had to suppress a frown when he noticed that Hasuko’s head didn’t sink any lower than her father’s. She was supposed to show deference to her future husband, but perhaps she thought them equals on this, their wedding day? He decided not to comment on her action, but to let it pass this once. He didn’t want to spoil the occasion.

  ‘Welcome to my home.’ Taro stood up and returned their bows, then formal greetings were exchanged according to ancient ritual.

  He went through the motions as if in a dream while Hasuko kept her eyes modestly downcast, like any properly brought up young lady. When he was given permission to exchange a few words with her at last, she looked up at him for the briefest of moments and he drew in a sharp breath. She was even more stunning at close quarters. He smiled and beckoned her to a seat. She scurried past him quickly and knelt on a soft cushion, tucking her hands into the sleeve of her deep red kimono.

  ‘Lady Hasuko, it’s a pleasure to meet you at last,’ he said, willing her to look at him again.

  ‘And you,’ she murmured and gave him another quick glance. He noticed her expression was carefully neutral, showing none of her feelings. This, too, was only right and proper, but he could have wished for some sign that the marriage wasn’t repugnant to her. That she found him attractive enough. Not that it mattered. It was a marriage for the mutual benefit of both families, nothing else, but still …

  ‘I hope you’ll be very comfortable here,’ he continued. ‘My people will do their utmost to see to your every need.’

  ‘I’m sure they will.’ Her gaze was still firmly fixed to the floor. Taro was beginning to wonder whether she was truly shy or just reticent because it was their first meeting. He curbed his frustration, convinced that either way she would soon relax in his company.

  To give her time to get used to his presence, he turned to her sister Reiko, who sat close by. Recently widowed, she was to make her home with them for the first year.

  ‘You are very welcome as well, Lady Reiko,’ he said politely.

  ‘Thank you, my lord.’ She bowed low to acknowledge his kindness in noticing her. A proper bow, verging on the obsequious, he noticed. He took the opportunity to study her.

  The Lady Reiko was also lovely to look at and seemed as graceful as her sister, but there was something about her that disturbed him. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was, but he felt no pull of attraction, despite the fact that she was bold enough to send him a flirtatious glance. Apart from thinking this was very inappropriate, especially today of all days, it gave him an instant dislike of her. It wasn’t her place to put herself forward in such a way and he wouldn’t tolerate this behaviour in his household. He gave her a haughty stare to show his displeasure, but this only made her smile behind her fan. Frowning slightly at her puzzling response, he silently thanked the gods it wasn’t her he was marrying.

  A commotion nearby suddenly interrupted the proceedings. Taro looked up and saw that a crowd had gathered around someone who was lying on the floor. He excused himself and went to see what was happening. He knew he should have sent a servant, not gone himself, but the two ladies had disconcerted him and he welcomed the opportunity to recover his composure away from their vicinity.

  ‘Doshite ano? What’s the matter?’ He frowned when he saw that it was his old Sensei who had collapsed. ‘Yanagihara-san?’

  The old man seemed to have fainted and someone was waving a fan in front of his face to try to revive him. It was a hot day, but Taro didn’t think the room was that stifling. Although perhaps it was different for the elderly? He knelt by his old retainer’s side, a singular honour he would have accorded very few of them.

  ‘Yanagihara-san, can you hear me?’

  ‘My lord …’ The merest thread of a whisper came from the old man’s lips and Taro had to bend down to catch the words. ‘Do not marry her, I beseech you.’

  Taro drew back in surprise. ‘What? But you said …’

  ‘Never mind what I said. All I told you was that I had seen nothing bad and I hadn’t, I swear, not until just now.’ The voice was still a whisper, loud enough to reach no further than his master’s ears.

  ‘What did you see?’ Taro was trying his best not to scowl now and he wanted to shake the man. Damn him, this wasn’t the time for his prophecies.

  ‘I can’t tell you here, but please believe me.’ Yanagihara reached up and grabbed Taro’s wrist with gnarled fingers. Taro restrained the urge to push him off.

  ‘It’s too late, I can’t back out of it now. I’m sorry, but you should have spoken earlier.’ Taro threw a glance over his shoulder at the woman who waited patiently on the dais, a slight frown marring her perfect features as she took in the strange sight of a daimyo kneeling on the floor by the side of a retainer. There was no way on earth he would give her up now that he had seen her. The old man must be mad. In fact, his brain was probably addled with age, otherwise why hadn’t he warned him before? ‘I must go through with this marriage, you know that. Everything is arranged. Now go and rest, my men will help you to your house.’

  Yanagihara opened his mouth as if to protest, but he must have read his master’s determination in his eyes, because he closed it again with a nod of acceptance. ‘Very well, so be it. I see it is your fate.’

  When he turned back towards his bride, Taro instantly forgot the old man as he basked in the lady’s first smile. Although it wasn’t directed at him, but at her father, nevertheless it was a start. He would soon make her smile at him with such pleasure, he had no doubt about that.

  He was indeed a lucky man.

&n
bsp; Chapter Three

  Plymouth, Devon, 1st June 1611

  Hannah made her way to the small garden out at the back, passing quickly through the kitchen instead of staying there as she’d been told. She was past caring whether she received further punishment or not. The kitchen and scullery stuck out from the rest of the house, forming an L-shape with a small courtyard to one side. This was bordered by a high wall with a door which led to a tiny alleyway. Her father’s counting room also overlooked this area, one window facing it while the other was at the front of the house.

  She flung herself onto a grassy patch under the window, not even looking to see if this stained her gown. What does it matter, she thought, I’m in trouble anyway. She leaned her back against the wall of the house and folded her legs up, hugging her knees and leaning her forehead against them. The summer sunshine warmed the top of her head. After breathing deeply of the garden scents for a while, her pulse rate slowed down and Hannah began to feel less agitated.

  ‘Patience,’ she muttered. Only a few more weeks and Kate would be gone. And as for Ezekiel Hesketh … ‘No, Kate must have made it up. Surely they wouldn’t force me into marriage with him. If they do, I’ll run away.’ Hannah clenched her fists in determination, although where she would run to, she had no idea.

  One of the windows banged open suddenly just above Hannah’s head and she hurried to scoot out of the way in case anything of a noxious nature was to be thrown out. Nothing happened, but soon after she heard voices. She recognised that of her father, unmistakably deep and booming, and then her older brother Jacob.