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Lady Helen Finds Her Song

Page 19

by Jennifer Moore


  Nearly an hour after they’d set off, Helen and Lieutenant Bancroft arrived at their destination. The smell of cooking meat filled the air. He had been right—the location was splendid. The clearing surrounded a white, open-aired temple that was roughly the size of Helen’s drawing room. Pillars held up a roof that stepped inward as it rose to a tall point. The entire building was carved from white stone and glowed in the moonlight.

  Servants had arranged portable tables and stools, and nearly out of sight, on the other side of the temple, a fire burned and two men stood nearby turning roasting sticks.

  A syce helped Helen dismount and led away the horses. Lieutenant Bancroft offered his arm, and they walked toward the tables. She searched for Captain Rhodes but saw only two remaining seats on the other table, not close to where he sat talking with the man next to him. Helen felt disappointed that she would not be able to speak to him during the meal.

  She heard Fanny’s laughter again, and her eyes narrowed when she saw the flirt sitting across the table from Captain Rhodes. He nodded and said something Helen could not hear but that sent Fanny into gales of laughter. Helen clenched her teeth. The sound made her furious. If only she’d arrived sooner.

  Supper was served, and Helen nodded and commented while Lieutenant Bancroft and Sergeant Carter spoke. But while their conversation centered around hunting and speculations about the war in Spain, Helen’s attention was constantly drawn to the other table. What was Captain Rhodes saying? Each time Fanny giggled, Helen could not help but think she should be the one sitting by the captain and laughing at his jokes.

  “And, Lady Helen, you have heard the rumor that Lord Minto means to resign? Perhaps the general mentioned it,” Sergeant Carter said.

  Helen was not entirely sure what the conversation had been about, but she didn’t have any information about Lord Minto resigning. “No, I am sorry. He did not mention anything to me.”

  “I wonder if he means to spend the rainy season in Simla then leave or simply depart directly from Calcutta,” Lieutenant Bancroft said in a thoughtful voice.

  “Why make the journey just to return a few months later and make another?” The sergeant shrugged. “Best to leave from a port city and not waste the time.”

  “Yes, but if his replacement does not arrive . . .”

  Helen’s mind strayed back to the other table, and she wondered why it bothered her to have Captain Rhodes speaking with Fanny. Why, because he is my dear friend, and Fanny cannot possibly appreciate his wit nor his kindness.

  When the meal was completed, the officers and ladies wandered around the clearing while the servants packed the furniture and dishes into a cart pulled by bullocks. The cart departed well ahead of the party to ensure that the dust from its passing settled before the officers and ladies made the return trip.

  Helen took the lieutenant’s offered arm and walked with him to the small temple and up its stone steps. Wreaths, flowers, and wooden bowls with traces of food had been laid beside the entryway.

  He pushed a bowl aside with his foot and snorted. “Gifts for their gods? Even an utter fool must realize animals and insects eat the food. Rather ridiculous, wouldn’t you say?”

  Helen’s insides sank when she heard his mockery. The offerings had appeared so heartfelt. “It is not ridiculous to the person who left it.” She did not dare to look at his face for fear she had offended him.

  “I am sorry, my lady. I just find it rather absurd.”

  “The practice is strange to me too, Lieutenant, but to some it is sacred.” They stepped farther into the temple, and Helen studied the carvings in the moonlight: elephants, armies, deities with angry faces and many arms. She thought she would like to return in the daytime to get a better look at the figures.

  A noise sounded behind them, and they both turned. Helen thought Lieutenant Bancroft must be as relieved as she to have something to distract them from a subject that had become uncomfortable.

  “Captain Rhodes!” Helen smiled when she saw who had climbed the steps behind them. His familiar form filled the entrance, but she could not see his face in the shadows. She glanced past him to ensure that Fanny had not accompanied him.

  “Captain.” Lieutenant Bancroft nodded.

  “I did not mean to intrude. I beg your pardon.” Captain Rhodes moved as though he would turn around, but Helen did not want him to leave. She’d not had a chance to speak with him all night. “Did you enjoy your supper, Captain?”

  “Yes. Very nice.”

  “And this temple. Is it not beautiful?” Helen swept her hand around the open space. Detailed carvings formed by expert craftsmen covered every pillar and wall. It appeared as though the builders had not wanted one inch of the temple to be unadorned. She thought of the time required to create such a beautiful structure. “Amazing,” she said.

  “Truly.” He turned again to leave.

  Helen’s spirits wilted, and her chest felt heavy. Did Captain Rhodes not wish to talk with her? Why had he approached the temple in the first place? Was he intending to see the inside and changed his mind when he saw her there?

  “Lieutenant Bancroft and I have been discussing our future plans, Captain,” she said in a last attempt to convince him to stay. “You are coming to Simla as well, aren’t you? We would feel very disappointed without you, would we not, Lieutenant?”

  “Yes, sir. Of course we would.”

  Captain Rhodes was silent for so long that Helen wondered if he would not answer. His face was shadowed, but she knew his gaze was upon her. “I do not know,” he finally said. His voice sounded choked, and she wondered why he was unhappy.

  “Captain Rhodes,” Fanny’s voice disrupted Helen’s thoughts, “it is time to return.”

  He glanced over his shoulder. “If you will excuse me.”

  “Of course, sir,” Lieutenant Bancroft said.

  Helen did not respond. She didn’t think she could make her voice work properly.

  When it was time to depart, the group kept to the same formation. Helen and Lieutenant Bancroft were the last to leave the clearing. As they rode back along the path, Helen’s heart felt like it was made of lead. She couldn’t stop thinking of Captain Rhodes and the tightness in his voice. Why might he not go to Simla with the other officers? Just imagining months in a faraway place without him made her eyes burn.

  Lieutenant Bancroft reached forward and pulled on the reins, stopping Helen’s horse. “My lady, I have something to ask you.” He lifted her hand from where it had rested on her leg

  Helen looked up, and a feeling of dread settled over her. The lieutenant had never presumed such familiarity. “Yes?” She tried to keep her tone light, but her stomach was rolling over and over.

  He squeezed her fingers and lifted them to his lips. Helen’s heart thumped, but she felt dismay rather than elation. Please, no.

  “Lady Helen, I would like you to marry me.” He spoke the words bluntly. Not with unkindness, but the lack of emotion took her by surprise.

  “Why?” The word slipped out before she even thought it.

  He did not seem deterred by her question. “We are an attractive couple, and with the shortage of British women in India, I am lucky to have found one I can imagine marrying. I have no doubt we will rub along well together. You are easy to talk to and pleasant to look at.” He shrugged his shoulders.

  Helen didn’t know what to say. She could hardly imagine a less romantic proposal. “Lieutenant—”

  “My lady”—he sighed loudly—“I want to leave India. I wish to return home so badly that I ache. As a married officer, I will be given special consideration in assignments. And, of course, it does not hurt that you are the general’s daughter.”

  “I—”

  “Please accept, Lady Helen.”

  The horses both whinnied, and Helen’s mount stepped a few paces away, pulling her hand from his. She pulled on the reins to steady the animal.

  “I have not been to your father. I shall do it promptly tomorrow morning.”r />
  Helen had allowed this to go on long enough. Two weeks ago she was quite convinced she was in love with Arthur Bancroft. His dimples and curls were the very things she had hoped for in a husband. But even though he was a pleasant enough person—and very handsome—the thought of sitting across the table from him every evening while he spoke of his day, sharing a home, having his children . . . She could not bring herself to feel any cheer at the idea. The warmth that had heated her cheeks and sent her heart fluttering when she was in his presence had dissipated, and she had not even noticed it was gone.

  “Lieutenant, I am sorry if I led you to believe—”

  A roar pierced the night, sending the horses into a panic. Helen tried to regain control of the rearing animal.

  A tiger.

  The roar sounded again, this time closer, and Lieutenant Bancroft pulled his musket from his saddle. “Ride to the others!” he called and bounded away into the jungle.

  Helen’s mind emptied, and her muscles tensed so tightly she could not move. She gripped the reins as the horse reared, kicking and tossing its head.

  Her bonnet came loose and flipped forward over her face. The terror at being blind brought a surge of energy that woke her from her paralysis. She batted the bonnet away and pulled tightly on the reins, trying to turn the animal toward the road.

  For an instant, the terror rose again, threatening to take away her reason. She whipped her head back and forth, but she could not tell from which direction she had come nor which she should go. The horse continued to kick up dust, and Helen coughed until she finally loosed the reins and allowed the animal to bolt. She clung to the saddle, praying the horse had chosen the right direction.

  Chapter 21

  A roar thundered through the jungle, and Michael froze. Lady Helen! He whipped Ei-Zarka around and spurred the horse in a gallop, not caring that he churned up dust as he passed the other pairs on the road. His only thought was to reach her. A tiger’s roar could carry for miles, and he had no idea how close the animal was or what it was roaring at. His imagination conjured images that only made him more frantic.

  He left behind group after group, ignoring their questions and protests about the dust as he kept riding. Another roar sounded. This one was definitely closer. Sparing no thought for his horse, he urged the animal faster, leaning forward and digging his heels into its flanks.

  An object in the road caught his eye, and he jerked on the reins, pulling Ei-Zarka up short. He peered down, and his heart flew into his throat. Helen’s bonnet. What had happened? His mouth went dry, and his breathing sped up. He didn’t think he had ever been so frightened. He turned Ei-Zarka in a circle, darting his eyes around the road and into the trees, but he could see no signs that anything had taken place. Where had she and Lieutenant Bancroft gone?

  For a moment he debated whether to ride into the jungle, but he would never find her if that’s where she had gone. He did not even know on which side of the road to begin a search. He urged Ei-Zarka forward again, continuing toward the temple and praying that she had stayed on the road.

  Michael burst into the clearing and took in the scene before him. Lady Helen was unsteadily seated on her saddle as her horse shuffled its feet, pulling its head from side to side as she struggled to keep it calm. A low snarl came from the tree line behind the temple. Michael saw three leopards slinking toward them. They must have smelled the meat and waited for the large group to leave, but the predators would have no problem taking down one young lady on a horse.

  The horse rolled its eyes and snorted, backing up and sporadically jerking to the side. Lady Helen somehow managed to hang on as it rose up onto its hind legs. It was only a matter of time before the horse shook her from its back or bolted through the trees. When the animal slammed down, jarring her forward, Michael made his move.

  He drove Ei-Zarka forward, coming up as closely as possible to her horse, and leaning to the side, he snatched Lady Helen around the waist, sliding her off her saddle and onto his own.

  The leopards chose that moment to leap forward, and her horse darted into the trees. Michael pulled the revolver from his jacket. “Hold on.” Digging his heels into Ei-Zarka’s sides, he twisted around, firing a shot as the horse bolted. Michael steered toward the road and glanced back once before they dashed from the clearing. Holding tightly to Lady Helen, he did not slow until they had covered at least a mile; then he allowed Ei-Zarka to slip to an easy walk. Turning his head from side to side, he scanned the tree-lined road and strained his ears for any other predators.

  Finally, he concluded they were safe and turned his attention to the young lady in front of him. She sat across the saddle, her face buried against his chest. He shifted around, hoping to make her more comfortable, but she just clung tighter. Now that his terror had somewhat lessened, he saw she was sobbing.

  “You are safe.” He spoke in a soft voice, rubbing his arm up and down her back. He tightened his arms around her and lowered his face to murmur against her hair. “I have you now, larla.” The endearment fell from his lips before he had realized, but Lady Helen seemed too distressed to have noticed.

  He held her as they rode, and little by little she relaxed into him. His fingers combed through the ends of her loose curls, which were every bit as soft as silk. The moment seemed perfect until his mind reminded him of the circumstances that had led to it.

  Easing back, he twisted slightly to see her face, discerning in the shine of the moon light that it was damp. He deliberately tightened his grip on the reins to keep from brushing away her tears. “Can you tell me what happened? Where is Lieutenant Bancroft?”

  Helen raised her eyes to his face, and he saw her lip tremble. “He went after the tiger.”

  Of course he did. He should have known the man would not be responsible when it came to Lady Helen. He had proven himself utterly incapable of seeing to her safety. And now . . . Michael nearly groaned aloud in frustration. The lieutenant had not made it a secret that he planned to propose tonight. When Lady Helen had spoken of their plans for the future, Michael knew it was a surety. The ache that was always present when he thought of Lady Helen grew into a piercing pain. She loved the lieutenant. He knew it all along, and her bright smile when she’d seen him in the gardens yesterday reminded Michael again of the fact. Now it was done. And no heartache in his life had even come close to what he felt at that knowledge.

  Helen settled back against him, fitting perfectly into the circle of his arms. Her hair was loose and flowed over her shoulders, smelling like lavender. “I knew you would come for me, Captain Rhodes.”

  “My lady?”

  “You always do.”

  It was true. He knew with a surety that his concern for her would never lessen. He would think of her every day, rush at the drop of a hat to her side whenever she needed. Which was precisely why he needed to leave Calcutta. Lady Helen was not his to save.

  Chapter 22

  Helen awoke when she heard Azān. For a moment, she lay quietly and listened, then remembered her fright the night before and her stomach turned over. The entire episode took on a surreal quality in her mind. It had happened so fast, and yet she remembered each second as if it had drawn on endlessly. She had never felt such raw terror, and the mere memory made her shake even now, in the safety of her bedchamber. She clutched a pillow to her stomach, clinging to it while she breathed in and out to calm herself.

  It had been well past midnight when Captain Rhodes had delivered her to her house, insisting that a servant be sent to wake Jim. He’d refused to leave Helen alone when she’d been so distraught. Jim and her mother had both arrived in the drawing room in their nightclothes, wide-eyed and worried. They’d asked questions, listening to the retelling of events until Helen’s shaking returned. Exhaustion and recounting the story had started another bout of weeping. She felt foolish, falling to pieces in front of her family and the captain, but she could not stop. Finally, her mother had sent for Sita and prepared an herbal draught to help Helen sleep.<
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  Helen sat up, pushed herself back against the headboard, and pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs.

  From the very instant she heard the tiger’s roar, her thought had been Captain Rhodes. Her mind had held on to thoughts of him as the horse had panicked and she’d prayed the animal would take her in the right direction. He would be waiting at the end of the road and would drive away the fears. When she’d reached the temple and realized she’d taken the wrong direction, despair threatened to crush her, but a small light of hope glowed deep within—hope that he would find her. And Helen had clung to it with every bit of her will.

  The relief when Captain Rhodes burst into the clearing had felt like sunlight breaking through the clouds on a cold, rainy day. Even now, just thinking of it sent ripples of warmth from her chest all the way to her toes.

  She let out a soft sigh as she remembered the feeling of being held in his arms. Captain Rhodes. When she thought of him, her cheeks heated, her heart swelled, and she had the most indescribable urge to grin.

  She wrapped the feeling around her, allowing it to push away the fear. She rested her cheek on her knee and sighed again. She was very fortunate to have a friend like Captain Rhodes.

  Still contemplating the events of the night, another emotion wriggled its way inside her, bringing with it a sour taste. Anger. Why had Lieutenant Bancroft deserted her in the middle of a dark jungle? And equally disturbing was his marriage proposal.

  A few weeks earlier, Helen had thought herself quite in love with the lieutenant. He was handsome and charming, an elegant dancer, and everything else she had thought she wanted in a husband. But now her feelings could not be more the reverse. She considered their interactions in the short time she’d known him and did not quite remember exactly when she’d stopped feeling her heartbeat quicken and her cheeks heat in his presence. His touch on her hand the night before had not sent wild butterflies loose in her stomach. And it had been some time ago that his dimpled smile had stopped making her giddy. When had her feelings changed? Perhaps it was when she’d grown to know the shallow man behind the handsome exterior.

 

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