Lady Helen Finds Her Song

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Lady Helen Finds Her Song Page 14

by Jennifer Moore


  Michael scanned the hilltops and saw a glint as light shone on metal. He turned in the saddle and caught Jim’s gaze. Jim nodded, indicating that he’d seen the glint as well. Now that they were in the Shah’s lands, his soldiers were watching.

  Although he did not consider the party in any danger, Michael fell back to ride next to Lady Helen. She greeted him with a large smile that set his heart thumping.

  “This view is marvelous, Captain. The flowers are so colorful, and the birds and deer . . . If I’d known how pleasant the ride would be today, I would have not begrudged a moment of the heat and dust yesterday.”

  He followed her gaze across green hills. Butterflies flitted between small yellow flowers, and creeping pink and orange bushes sprang from mounds of rocks. He’d always thought the jungles and mountains beautiful, but seeing them through Lady Helen’s eyes gave him a new appreciation for the diversity of the land. A herd of deer sprang through the tall grass, and they both turned their attention to watch the animals.

  “Spring is the best time of year in India. The flowers are in full bloom but not yet withered by the hot sun. And of course, the rains have not started.”

  “I have heard of the monsoon season. Is it dreadful?”

  “A constant downpour for weeks at a time. Roads flood; buildings flood. Everything is wet and muddy; even the walls are covered in mold.”

  Lady Helen grimaced. “It sounds terrible.”

  Michael shrugged. “Uncomfortable, but between the rains the sky is the brightest blue and the sunsets are more magnificent than you could imagine.”

  She turned her head to look at him fully around her bonnet’s brim. “You love it here, don’t you, Captain?”

  “I do.”

  “And did you not enjoy living in England?”

  He hesitated, not wanting to offend. “I was young when I went to England—young and alone in a land covered by fog, trying to find my way among a people that I apparently belonged to but did not understand.”

  “It must have been difficult. I am sorry I did not know you then.” She turned her gaze toward her horse’s ears. “You would love Somerset. We could have attended garden parties and played croquet. Springtime there is marvelous. I know you would have found it to be splendid. I wish your time in England had not been so lonely. If only we had known one another . . .”

  “I am certain my experience would have been vastly different if I had been acquainted with you, my lady, but I do not think you had yet been born when I was in England. And if you had, you must have been very small indeed.” He attempted to smile as the discrepancy in their ages became all the more apparent. She must think him a stuffy old man blathering on about sunsets.

  “Captain, are you saying you would have been opposed to playing with dolls? I had a beautiful dollhouse at Hawthorne House, I’ll have you know. And I would have entertained you quite well. Although I would not have shared Molly with you. She was my favorite. So do not even ask.” She wagged her finger at him.

  “I would not dare.” The corner of his mouth twitched.

  Her smile dimmed slightly. “I cannot imagine leaving home without my mother and Jim. You must have felt so alone.”

  He could not maintain his smile as he thought of the years away from India. While he’d made friends and enjoyed his schooling, the entire time he’d longed for home, for his family. “I did indeed.”

  “Do you think you will ever return to England?”

  “I do not know. I must admit my life’s plans are rather undecided at the moment.” He didn’t tell her he planned to transfer or that he could not imagine leaving her behind when he did. The memories of his time in England were dark and lonely, but thinking about his future without Lady Helen seemed even more bleak. Yet how could he remain and watch her love another?

  Chapter 15

  Helen rode in silence, worried that she had upset Captain Rhodes. His entire carriage had seemed to wilt as he’d spoken about his time in England. And about his future plans. She wondered why he had seemed so unhappy and why the pall over his mood spread a shadow over her own. She tried to think of something else to talk about, something that might return the sparkle to his eyes, a task which suddenly seemed extremely important.

  “Will you tell me about pujah?”

  He raised his brows and tipped his head. A small smile drew over his face as he studied her expression, and Helen found that it warmed her down to her toes.

  “I do not know fully what the ritual entails. It is very sacred and involves washing and praying. And an offering of food to a chosen deity. Naveen is typically gone for hours every morning.”

  Helen thought about what he said. Hours every morning? The Mohammedans praying five times a day? A twist of guilt pulled inside her. She thought of her Sunday meeting at St. Mary’s Church in Somerset, how she allowed her mind to wander, glancing around the congregation while the bishop read from the prayer book. In London she’d paid more attention to the fashions and the stained-glass windows of Westminster Abbey than to the sermon. Her devotion to her own beliefs was definitely lacking, and she felt a surge of motivation to do better in her personal worship.

  Helen rode beside Captain Rhodes in a comfortable silence, gazing around at the countryside. The land had changed from untamed hills to orderly cultivated fields. A cluster of structures—whitewashed buildings with thatched roofs, surrounded by a bamboo fence—was nestled back against the trees. She thought it must be a small farming village. People dotted the vast landscape. She heard bleating as a boy herded goats toward an enclosure. Another child chased a flock of birds that rose into the sky like a white cloud. Men and women bent at the waist, working in a wide green field.

  “What are they growing?” she asked.

  “Rice.”

  Helen blinked her eyes. She’d never known the origin of a food that was such a staple of her diet.

  He lifted an arm to indicate the other side of the road where trees grew in orderly lines. “Mango and date trees. And over that way are mulberry bushes.”

  Helen looked closer and saw people squatted down among the rows of bushes. “Are they picking mulberries?”

  Captain Rhodes shook his head. “Tending the silk worms. Silk is much more valuable than sour berries.”

  Children ran along the side of the road, some holding hands of smaller children, others driving laden bullock carts. Their white smiles shone as they waved at the company. Helen could not contain a grin as she waved back.

  Tall coconut trees shot straight up, and Helen stopped to watch a young boy wearing only a cloth around his hips attach a rag to his feet and use it to step on as he shimmied to the top of a tree, well over thirty feet high. Children brought the coconuts to the road for the soldiers to purchase.

  Captain Rhodes sliced off the end of a coconut and indicated for Helen to drink the juice inside.

  She took a sip and offered it to him, but he shook his head, indicating for her to finish it. “My ayah gave me coconut water for every small injury or childhood illness,” he said. “The taste has lost its appeal.”

  The company wound through the farmland and then on through green hills. Captain Rhodes told her the mountains were covered in tea farms. When they crested a rise, Helen saw that the land dipped, and in the distance the road passed between two rocky cliffs.

  On one of the nearby hills, Helen saw an animal moving and peered closer. Through the tall grass, she couldn’t make out what it was. It appeared to be a deer, but the neck was too short. A dog?

  With a gasp, she realized it was a bird. A peacock.

  Helen pulled on the reins to halt her horse.

  His eyes wide, Captain Rhodes turned his horse around to join her.

  She pointed toward the peacock.

  He looked toward the hill and then back at her with a smile.

  When Helen squinted, she could see that what she’d taken for rocks or mounds of dirt were other large birds not so brightly colored. They must be the females. While the birds ad
orned the gardens of the Prince Regent and other British nobility, seeing them in the wild was much more exciting. The male peacock continued to preen. Its neck and body were a vivid blue, and a long train of feathers bearing characteristic “eye-spots” trailed behind.

  “Can we move closer?” she whispered.

  “Certainly,” Captain Rhodes said.

  The birds did not pay any attention as the horses walked slowly toward them. The male stretched its neck up and let out a piercing, discordant call. For such an elegant bird, its call was surprisingly harsh. It turned its head with jerky motions, causing the crest of feathers to shake.

  Helen grinned at Captain Rhodes. “Have you ever seen a more beautiful shade of blue?”

  His mouth pulled in a slow smile. “My lady, your own eyes are precisely the same color.”

  Helen felt a wave of heat rise up her neck, and she turned back to watch the bird. She had no idea why Captain Rhodes’s words affected her in such a way. Obviously, she was fully aware that her eyes were blue. But the fact that he was aware of it was so much more noteworthy.

  They continued to ride slowly closer but were still well over a hundred meters away when the peacock fanned his tail feathers into a grand display. Helen wanted to clap her hands.

  Captain Rhodes raised his eyes to study the sky. “His dance means rain is coming.”

  Only a few white clouds hovered in the distance. Helen opened her mouth to tell Captain Rhodes that she didn’t think they were in any danger of rain, but a commotion behind her stopped the words.

  Some of the officers had approached and were pulling muskets from their saddles. Lieutenant Bancroft pointed his toward the birds.

  Helen’s breath stopped when she realized they meant to charge at the birds and shoot them. She met Captain Rhodes’s gaze, shaking her head. “No, they cannot . . .”

  He dipped his chin then rode back toward the others. “I’ll speak to the entire company, please.” His loud voice boomed through the hills.

  Captain Rhodes led them toward the road, where the remainder of the group waited.

  The men exchanged looks as they followed.

  Helen squirmed uncomfortably in her saddle as she rode behind them. She broke off and joined Jim where he waited a bit apart from the remainder of the company.

  What would Captain Rhodes say? Would they be angry that their hunting plans had been terminated? Was it her fault for allowing her distress to show?

  Captain Rhodes halted his horse and waited until the entire group had gathered. “There will be no hunting on the Shah’s lands.”

  A few officers made noises of complaint but stopped when the captain glared at them.

  “We will give the people and their ruler no reason to be discontented with our presence here.” He allowed his gaze to travel over the men, who eventually all nodded their agreement. “The peacock, in particular, is sacred to these people. Its death would not go unnoticed.”

  Jim watched Captain Rhodes speak. His face bore no expression, although Helen got the impression that he approved of the captain’s orders.

  Captain Rhodes turned toward Jim. “If General Stackhouse has no objections, we will rest the horses and take tiffin where the road flattens out in the shade of the rocks.”

  When they reached the designated spot, Helen dismounted and followed Jim toward the other officers. Her legs burned, and her spine felt as though it had been compressed. She spread her palms against her lower back and leaned from side to side, unable to stop a grimace.

  Captain Rhodes hurried toward her. “Lady Helen, would you like me to send someone ahead to arrange for a palanquin? Or perhaps we could retain a cart from the village we passed.”

  She shook her head, frustrated that he had seen her soreness and hating that he would notice another weakness of hers. “I would not hear of it. I have only to walk around for a moment, and I shall be just the thing.”

  He nodded, but his brows remained furrowed.

  Helen walked away, deliberately putting as much energy into her steps as she could to alleviate the captain’s worry, though doing so caused her stiff muscles to cry out. With every bit of her energy, she held a pleasant expression on her face as she made a wide circle around the group of men and horses.

  Making sure to watch where she walked and avoid any sort of high grass or wet places, she turned away from the road and climbed a gentle, rocky slope, hoping to watch the peacock and his lady companions as they moved among the hills. All around her, birds sang and vivid flowers swayed in the soft breeze. The sky was a clear blue, and tall trees grew in clumps around the clearing. Helen turned in a circle to watch the group of men.

  She spotted Lieutenant Bancroft and Sergeant Carter studying a musket between them, apparently discussing the firing mechanism. Her eyes moved over the company. The dark-skinned sepoys spoke and laughed together, the officers rested in groups, and servants prepared food. A quick movement caught her attention. Jim jerked his head to the side and walked a small distance away from the company. Captain Rhodes followed him.

  The men stood close to one another as they looked toward the pass between the cliffs. Although they were not facing Helen, she could see their actions. Captain Rhodes lifted his chin in a swift movement toward the top of the cliffs, and Jim followed his gaze then nodded.

  They turned, and she saw that both men wore sober expressions. Helen studied them for a moment, trying to understand what caused their concern. She looked at the cliffs but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Perhaps the route posed some sort of threat she didn’t recognize. Were they afraid of bandits? Dangerous animals?

  She looked at the pass again, noticing how the cliffs shadowed the road, which suddenly seemed dark and menacing. In spite of the heat, she shivered. Helen glanced around and realized that, though the hills were low, they blocked visibility of the surrounding area. Anything could be hidden just over a rise. With swift steps, she walked back toward the group.

  When she drew near, Lieutenant Bancroft hurried to intercept her and offer an arm.

  Helen took it, glancing at his face. “I am sorry your hunt was banned today, Lieutenant.”

  “’Tis a pity, of course, but Captain Rhodes is my commanding officer.” He lifted his shoulders in a shrug, and Helen saw that his expression was open and friendly, not upset in the least. A small crease appeared between his brows. “I’d have given you some feathers for your hair. I hear the style is all the rage in London.” His forehead smoothed out as quickly as it had creased. “Well, no bother. There will always be other days and other birds to hunt. Eh, Lady Helen?”

  “I imagine so,” Helen said.

  He turned his gaze toward the cliffs. “Captain says we’re close. On the other side of the pass. We’ve less than half a day until we reach the Shah’s city. We should be lounging on silk cushions, sipping cool fruit juice by this evening.”

  Helen remembered the captain’s quiet exchange with Jim. “And do you think we’re in any danger, Lieutenant?”

  Dimples appeared in his cheeks as he smiled and patted her hand. “Not at all, my lady. The countryside is safe, and the Shah’s an ally. Do not worry yourself.”

  Helen thanked him for escorting her then moved to sit on a blanket that had been laid out over the ground. She ate cold meat and cheese, and listened to the conversations surrounding her. Hearing nothing to indicate that there was any reason for concern, she relaxed and enjoyed the sunlight and the sounds of the birds.

  Too soon, it was time to continue. Helen mounted her horse and joined Jim. Once the group had spread out and she did not worry about being overheard, she turned to her stepfather. “Sir, can I ask what concerns you and Captain Rhodes about the pass? Is it dangerous?”

  Jim turned his head and squinted his eye as he studied her. “Don’t miss much, do you?” He lifted his gaze to the cliffs in front of them. “The Shah’s soldiers are hiding on the ridge.” Jerking his chin slightly, he indicated the tops the cliff walls.

  Helen squinted as s
he looked up but saw nothing. “But they are friendly, are they not? You are not concerned?” She spoke the words, hoping only for reassurance; the shaded area between the cliffs looked foreboding.

  “We are safe, Helen. It is just wise to be aware. If a foreign power was making a journey to Calcutta, we’d do the same.” He rotated fully toward her and laid a hand on hers where it held the horse’s reins. “I would not have brought you if your safety was the smallest bit in question.”

  Helen nodded, wondering why his words did not reassure her.

  They were nearly inside the pass now, and she estimated the walls were roughly twenty meters high, with a jagged ridge high along the top. It looked as though some attempt had been made to clear loose boulders from the road beneath, but smaller rocks still dotted the passage.

  Captain Rhodes signaled with his hand, and the party moved forward into the shady corridor. Helen did not like the feeling of the high walls looming over her, especially now that she knew soldiers were watching from above. The space between the walls was probably as wide as the Grand Trunk Road, but the rocks clogging the space and the surrounding cliffs made it seem much more narrow.

  “It must be very difficult to bring carts along this route,” Helen said in a low voice to Jim.

  “Excellent defensive strategy.” His lips tightened.

  Helen was grateful when they emerged into the sunlight a few moments later. Before her, encircled on all sides by lush green mountains, was a wide valley. A walled city with white buildings and tile roofs was situated on a slight hill. Tended farmland surrounded it like a bumpy patchwork quilt. Even though they were still miles away from the city, all eyes were drawn to the largest visible structure, which sat alone on the tallest hill in the center of the buildings: the White Palace.

 

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