The Scarlet Kimono (Choc Lit)

by Christina Courtenay

  His lips descended on hers again and he clamped his other arm round her back so there was no escape. Hannah began to panic and a very real lack of air made black spots dance in front of her eyes. She tried again to fight him, but he was so much stronger than her and her arms were pressed tight against her sides. She didn’t stand a chance.

  When Hannah thought she might be on the verge of fainting, he stopped kissing her mouth at last, but it was only a short reprieve. Instead his lips travelled across her cheek and down her neck, leaving a snail’s trail of slime that made her want to retch. His hands began to roam over her body. Hannah pushed them away, but they only moved to some other part of her anatomy. He squeezed one of her breasts, making her moan with pain. ‘No, please, don’t,’ she protested, but he seemed to take this as encouragement rather than the opposite and only mauled her further.

  ‘Knew you’d like it,’ he muttered thickly, his other hand pushing her skirts up so he could gain access to her naked thighs. ‘You have such spirit.’

  A sob escaped Hannah, and she tried again to free herself using both nails and fists, but to no avail. She looked about for some kind of weapon to use in her defence, but there was nothing to hand. ‘Please, stop!’ she pleaded, but Mr Hesketh seemed not to hear her. He was making strange noises deep in his throat that frightened her even more.

  ‘Ahem! Oh, I do beg your pardon. Am I interrupting something?’

  Hannah looked up and saw to her unbridled relief the welcome face of Jacob, his eyes narrowed at the scene he’d stumbled upon. Mr Hesketh swore under his breath, but removed his hands from Hannah and pushed her skirt back down. ‘What do you want?’ he snarled, breathing heavily and scowling at his future brother-in-law. ‘My betrothed and I were hoping for a little privacy.’

  ‘So sorry, but I was sent out to find Hannah. She’s needed at the house.’ Jacob shrugged. ‘Something to do with female apparel, you know how it is.’ Hannah noticed his expression was grim, but he kept up the pretence that everything was normal.

  Hannah heard Mr Hesketh take a deep breath and mutter something that sounded like ‘idiot’, but there was nothing he could say out loud without being impolite. She didn’t wait for him to comment in any case, but jumped up and headed for the house as if the devil and all his helpers were after her. Her heart was beating like a drum and she was terrified something would stop her from reaching the safety of her room. She only hoped her legs would carry her that far. They were shaking so badly, she was beginning to doubt it. Just as she neared the back door, Jacob caught up with her.

  ‘No one wants you, just disappear upstairs,’ he hissed.

  She threw him a startled look. ‘What? Oh … thank you. I … you have no idea how much I appreciate your help.’

  ‘Actually, I think I have. I’ll try to speak to Father again, but I doubt he’ll listen. I’m sorry.’ He smiled a little sadly. ‘Now go, quickly.’

  Hannah didn’t need to be told twice.

  What was she to do? Hannah paced the tiny bed chamber, too agitated to sit down.

  She simply couldn’t go through with this marriage. But did she have a choice?

  During the past few days an idea had taken root in her mind and it refused to go away. She needed to escape and the more she thought about it, the more she came to the conclusion that she only had one option. She had to seize her chance and leave with Rydon and her brother. If she didn’t act now, it would be too late.

  ‘Why shouldn’t I go?’ she muttered. If she refused to marry Mr Hesketh she would be in disgrace anyway. Besides, no one would miss her, she was sure of that, except for Edward, but he’d be going to sea soon himself on one of their father’s other ships. Her sister hated her, her father mostly ignored her and to her mother she was nothing but trouble. You need a steadying hand, her father had said. Well, Hannah disagreed if that hand belonged to Ezekiel Hesketh.

  The ships were leaving the day after tomorrow and she intended to be on board when they did.

  ‘Hannah, fetch me the beeswax, if you please. The maids have done a terrible job on this table, it needs doing again. And why are you smirking, pray?’

  Hannah had been loitering in the hallway, waiting for an opportunity to sneak into the store room unseen. Here it was, handed to her on a plate as it were, which was why she found it hard to keep her expression straight. ‘Yes, Mother.’ She tried harder to school her features into a more solemn expression.

  ‘Lazy servants, I cannot trust anyone these days,’ Mistress Marston muttered. ‘And you, why are you skulking about? Don’t you have chores to attend to? I marvel that you can stand idle when there is always so much to be done.’

  ‘I finished my tasks, Mother.’

  ‘Finished, indeed. Why didn’t you say? Well, off with you then. What are you waiting for? And when you come back, I’ll find you something else to occupy your time with. Mark my words, you’ll have no time for idleness once you’re married.’

  Hannah set off on her errand with unusual alacrity and her mother threw her a suspicious glance. Normally, Mistress Marston could have expected only grudging willingness from her daughter. But Hannah was in good spirits today since gathering together the things she needed for her adventure had proved surprisingly easy.

  With the house in an uproar because of Kate’s forthcoming nuptials, no one was paying much attention to Hannah. So far, she had acquired almost everything she could think of and hidden it in a sack at the bottom of a clothes chest in her bedchamber. A blanket, a comb and a knife, spoon and wooden bowl had been squirrelled away. Also the boy’s clothes she planned to wear, which she’d purloined from Edward’s room.

  All that was left to steal was some food and drink. She knew she couldn’t bring much, only what was absolutely essential for her survival. Some bread and cheese, a pie perhaps and a chunk of smoked ham or sausage. She reckoned victuals to last her three or four days would be enough. And now she had her chance. She set off to fetch the beeswax, as well as carry out her own errand.

  Soon, all would be ready for her flight.

  Late that evening, she set about crossing the next hurdle – to leave the house undetected. Since the ship was sailing on the morning tide, Hannah knew she had to somehow get onboard during the night. Escaping from the house after dark was, however, not an easy task. All the doors were locked and checked by her father each evening before bedtime, and there was a guard dog who was let loose to prowl the garden all night. The locked doors she could overcome by climbing out through a window, but the dog was a different matter. He was a vicious brute at the best of times.

  ‘A bone should do the trick,’ she muttered to herself and stole a half-eaten leg of lamb from the pantry just before bedtime. ‘If the stupid hound isn’t tempted by that, I’ll have to hit him over the head with something.’

  There were several other problems to overcome though. For one thing, she shared a bed with Kate, who was a light sleeper, and for another, what if she fell asleep herself and didn’t wake up until morning when the ship had already left? The thought terrified Hannah, but as she lay in bed listening to the sounds of the night she realised she was far too agitated to fall asleep.

  ‘Oh, move over, do! You take up so much space,’ Kate grumbled and jabbed a sharp elbow into Hannah’s side. Hannah was about to retaliate as usual, but stopped herself just in time. The sooner Kate went to sleep, the better.

  ‘Very well.’ She scooted over to the far side of the bed and prayed that Kate was tired out from all the wedding preparations. Hannah’s heart was thumping so loudly she felt sure her sister would hear her, but Kate turned over and soon began to snore softly, leaving Hannah a prey to her emotions.

  She pretended to be asleep herself, until she was sure her sister wouldn’t wake up. Then she waited a little while longer. Finally, Hannah was about to ease out from under the covers when, to her surprise, Kate stopped snoring and began to do just that. Hannah froze and tried to make her breathing sound deep and even. One limb at a time, Kate crawle
d slowly out of bed and tip-toed across the room. In the moonlight, Hannah saw her sister grab her shawl and some shoes before disappearing, and then all was quiet.

  She became aware that she had been holding her breath and let it out with a whoosh before sitting up. She could hardly believe her luck and hoped Kate wouldn’t be back any time soon. Just in case, however, she grabbed a spare blanket and arranged it under the covers to look like a human shape. With any luck it would fool Kate at least until morning. Even then, she probably wouldn’t notice a thing since she barely spared Hannah a glance.

  I bet she’s gone to dally with Captain Rydon, Hannah thought and a stab of misery tore through her. Well, let her. Soon she’ll be married to Henry Forrester and I hope he sees through her wiles right quickly, her mind added savagely. Somehow, the thought of an unforgiving Henry cheered her up, although she still felt sorry for him. She hoped he knew what he was doing.

  She retrieved her bundle from the clothes chest and left the room. Several of the floorboards on the landing creaked, but Hannah knew from experience which ones to avoid. She managed to make her way downstairs in silence. She wondered which way Kate had gone and prayed that her sister had chosen the garden route. A sudden burst of barking confirmed this, and Hannah smiled to herself when the noise stopped abruptly. It would seem Kate had also been stealing bribes.

  It took only a moment to climb out through one of the kitchen windows, which Kate had left conveniently open. Hannah sped along in the shelter of the wall over to the nearest foliage. The large, shaggy dog was lying in the middle of the lawn, contentedly gnawing on Kate’s offering. He barely lifted his head to look in her direction, but Hannah threw him her own treat for good measure. Then she heard whispered voices nearby and stilled.

  ‘Rafael, I shouldn’t be here. Must you really leave?’

  ‘Kate, my lovely Kate, you know I have to. And you can’t be so cruel as to send me on my way without something to remember you by. Sweetheart, I have thought of nothing but you for weeks. Your eyes, your smile … I can’t endure another minute without …’

  ‘No, really I shouldn’t … oh! Rafael …’

  The whispering turned into small whimpering noises and grunts and Hannah clamped her teeth together hard and turned away. She didn’t care what favours Kate chose to bestow on the captain. Soon her sister would be married, whereas Hannah needed to make haste.

  Quickly, she changed into Edward’s clothes. The shirt was slightly too large, but topped by a waistcoat it hid the few curves she possessed. The breeches were also a bit on the generous side, but were easily secured by a belt. The only thing that remained to be done was to cut her waist-long hair up to shoulder length and plait it. She had brought a pair of shears for this purpose and stuffed the leftover tresses into a hole in a nearby tree trunk. Then, to be on the safe side, Hannah rammed a hat down onto her head and smeared some dirt on her cheeks, although she didn’t think anyone would look twice at her in this outfit.

  She tip-toed over to the gate that led out into the little alleyway and pushed back the bolts. Fortunately, it opened a crack without the hinges squeaking too much. Hannah squeezed through and pulled it shut behind her. She couldn’t do anything about the bolts, but since the house was locked she didn’t think it mattered. With the sack in one hand, she began to run in the direction of the harbour.

  She only looked back once.

  Chapter Eight

  Northern Japan, August 1611

  Taro sat cross-legged on the dais, outwardly calm and infinitely patient. Inside, however, it was a different matter.

  He should have been concentrating on what his vassals were saying. Each one was brought forward in turn with this petition or that complaint, as was the custom. Normally he would listen carefully before forming as fair an opinion as he could and passing judgement. Today, he barely heard them.

  If his people noticed that his answers were more vague than usual, no one dared to comment on it. At one point he saw his most trusted advisor, Tadashi, frown at something his lord had just said, and Taro forced himself to concentrate properly for a while.

  ‘Wait.’ He held up a hand. ‘Could you repeat that, please? You were mumbling.’ Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tadashi’s shoulders relax as the petition was dealt with efficiently. When this was done, Taro rose abruptly signalling the end of the session. ‘You will excuse me, I have other matters to attend to this morning. The rest of you return tomorrow, if you please.’ He gave a small nod and everyone in the room bowed low.

  Although his words had been polite, everyone knew they were a command, not a request. No one argued with a daimyo, that was unheard of. As a feudal lord, Taro’s power was absolute. If he had told Tadashi to cut off the last petitioner’s head, it would have been done instantly, without hesitation. For that matter, had he ordered Tadashi to commit suicide, seppuku, the man would have obeyed just as readily.

  Being a daimyo wasn’t easy, but it was something which had been bred into him for as long as he could remember. A daimyo could in theory do whatever he pleased, but with this freedom came the burdens of justice, benevolence, courtesy and honour. Taro’s father had believed that benevolence and wisdom were the most important requirements for a ruler and he had impressed this upon his son. Taro therefore always tried his best to be magnanimous and fair in his dealings with his clan and vassals.

  As everyone filed out of the long, high-ceilinged room, Taro stayed motionless on the dais. His let his eyes wander, taking in the beautiful gold-leaf screens, painted with a variety of fierce animals, that covered the walls. His gaze continued to the ornately painted ceiling and intricately carved roof beams. None of this opulence had any effect on him. He’d seen it all before and although he normally took pride in his exquisite surroundings, today he felt only emptiness inside.

  What’s wrong with me, he wondered, sinking down onto the soft silk cushion once more and leaning his chin on one hand. He should be happy and fulfilled, now that he had everything a man could possibly want – land, power, wealth, a lovely wife and, through his marriage, alliances with other powerful samurai families. But there was still something missing.

  He knew it all boiled down to Hasuko’s continued refusal to let him into her thoughts. She was very clever, he had to admit, doing everything that was expected of her without protest and usually with alacrity. But something about the way she looked at him wasn’t right. She made him feel insignificant. As if he were in the presence of a queen and not worthy of the honour she bestowed on him. He didn’t like it. He had never felt inferior to anyone in his life, not even to the Shogun. No, he didn’t like it one little bit, but there seemed to be nothing he could do about it.

  He didn’t know why it should matter. She was just a woman, one among many. There were others who could please him whenever he wished – like his sister-in-law for example, who persisted with her suggestive glances – but they meant nothing. Hasuko was his wife. She owed him deference, and although outwardly she gave it willingly, he was certain that this was just an act. He clenched his fists, but tried not to give in to the anger that simmered inside him.

  Yanagihara came slowly into the room, the only person in the castle who would have dared to intrude on the lord’s solitude. He walked with the aid of a beautifully carved cane. Taro noticed the old man’s back curved forward as if his head was becoming too heavy for the rest of his body. The deeply set eyes, however, were as alert as always, the gaze intelligent and sharp.

  ‘My lord?’ Yanagihara said and bowed as far as his old back permitted.

  Taro forced his mind into the present and stifled a sigh. ‘Yanagihara-san. What can I do for you?’

  The old man’s face crinkled into a tiny smile. ‘Nothing, my lord. I came because you have need of me. Your spirit is restless, neh?’

  ‘How did you …?’ Taro caught himself in time. He should know better than to ask such a stupid question. The old man had probably had a vision. ‘Yes,’ he said instead. ‘Can you help me?’r />
  The old man answered with a question of his own. ‘Have you been dreaming lately?’

  ‘Dreaming? Well, actually, yes. Last night I dreamt of a kami who wouldn’t leave me alone. She tore at me, trying to pull me down into … oh, I can’t remember. A void perhaps.’

  ‘She? The spirit was a female?’

  ‘Yes, most definitely. Her shape was clearly defined although she was surrounded by tongues of fire.’

  ‘Ah, I thought so.’

  Yanagihara remained silent for so long, Taro wanted to shout out loud, but a samurai had to remain calm at all times, so he waited patiently. At length he was rewarded.

  ‘I have the answer, my lord.’ Yanagihara nodded, as if satisfied with himself. ‘It is the foreign woman. She must be coming closer and her influence is beginning to take hold.’

  ‘Foreign woman?’ Taro had expected his dream to have something to do with Hasuko and had forgotten all about the gai-jin. ‘Oh, you mean the one you had a vision about a while back?’

  ‘Indeed, my lord. She will affect your life, I’m sure of it. I have seen her myself recently. That was partly what brought me here today.’

  ‘And what was she doing, when you saw her?’

  ‘Still standing on the ship, but laughing this time, not looking at me. She seemed less agitated.’

  Taro shook his head. ‘I don’t know. Why should a woman I’ve never met be affecting me? It doesn’t make sense. I have enough trouble with the women around here, some more than most.’

  Yanagihara drew himself up haughtily and prepared to turn away. Taro had often seen him do this whenever his visions were laughed at or scorned. ‘Wait,’ he said, holding up one hand. ‘I didn’t say I don’t believe you, it’s just that I find it unlikely, but you have been right before. I shouldn’t doubt you.’

  Yanagihara relaxed and turned back. He nodded once more. ‘We shall just have to wait and see. Try to think of other things, my lord. Go and have a bath and massage, let the serving ladies pamper you, entertain you. The world is full of women, and this particular one is still far away. I will tell you when I sense her presence coming closer.’