“Well, it’s not as though he’ll ever see it … One of his servants will take care of it, and he’s as rich as Croesus, and he takes good care to see we British won’t be getting any of it.”
She felt the frustration rise once more. “Even so, I must see the child once more, just to be sure. Then I’ll have discharged my responsibility.”
He spoke slowly, as if to give more weight to his words. “Darling, you must never visit him. Things are different here, it’s a small community and people talk. A woman’s reputation is very important, even more so than in England, and remember you’re the wife of the District Magistrate. We must set an example to the natives, otherwise they’ll lose their respect for us. Anyway, he’ll have forgotten about you by now. Your promises mean nothing to a man like Sabran.”
“He doesn’t seem to like you much either.”
“He has no reason to like me. We’ve clashed often over various legal issues. He simply won’t accept English justice … fights tooth and nail to defend the indefensible. But I don’t want to talk about him. I’d much rather talk about you.” He bent to kiss her again, giving her at the same time a particularly tender glance. “But we can’t avoid seeing him sometimes, even if I wish him gone to the devil. He’s managed to get his polo team to the finals. There’s the last match of the season in a few weeks and I intend to thrash the brute.”
“He plays well then?”
“Too well. So far we haven’t managed to beat him … But this time …” Charles banged his fist down on the table, making the teacups shake.
Sara was shocked by the anger in his voice. He seemed almost obsessively determined. “Is it really so important you beat him? Really, Charles, does it matter that much?”
He answered her with a silent nod, then turned away, the conversation at an end.
Charles rose to join Cynthia on the other side of the room, and Sara’s spirits sank within her. She unconsciously pulled at the neck of her blouse as she looked around Lady Palmer’s over-furnished drawing room. The brilliant day had lost its beauty, and what she had so recently thought exciting and exotic appeared shoddy, ugly and dull.
She toyed with Charles’s gift of jasmine she had tucked at her waist so to admire it better. Already it had turned brown and hung lifelessly from her belt, its once heady fragrance now sickly and rancid.
Chapter 6 (#ulink_830b9ae3-3143-59a4-baa2-6a4d8e949aea)
Sara hated herself for her failure to like her new home, even though it was one of the largest and best built in the community, and, at her first sight of it, had to struggle to hide her dismay, though Charles spoke with unmistakable pride in his voice.
“What do you think of it? I like to see it as our own little patch of England.”
The house was an exaggerated version of a Surrey country cottage, burdened with both mock Tudor features and a prim picket fence. There was something ridiculous about it, like an Englishman Sara had met on the ship, who wore heavy tweeds despite the heat and always carried an umbrella.
A dainty path bordered by half-dead roses snaked from the veranda across a faded yellow lawn to the front fence. It was clearly her husband’s pride and joy and as he paused at the front gate he solemnly contemplated the grass, poking at the bare patches with his walking stick.
“My home,” she murmured, but even to her own ears the words seemed wistful.
The servants appeared to welcome them, laughing and generously bestowing blessings on their new mistress. She was swept towards the house while fragrant flowers were thrown in her path. Only one servant hung back, unsmiling and watchful, her eyes fixed on Sara. Even the drab brown of her servant’s sari couldn’t disguise the fact that she was lovely in a way that set her apart from the rest of the servants.
Charles seemed not to notice her beauty. Her presence seemed only to inspire him to anger. “There you are! Quick! Come here at once and meet your mistress.”
The girl crept forward and prostrated herself on the ground before them both, then slowly raised her kohl-rimmed eyes, her expression a mixture of fear and curiosity. She glanced in Charles’s direction as though asking for permission to speak. Despite her heavy gold nose-ring disguising almost half her face, it was plain she was not from South India. Her pale skin and slightly curved nose showed something of Arabic roots.
Charles gave her permission to speak.
“I am Lakshmi, memsahib.” Her huge almond-shaped eyes flashed, then were cast down once more.
“Lakshmi, what a pretty name—it means the goddess of good fortune, doesn’t it, Charles? I hope we will be good friends, Lakshmi.”
The girl gave Charles another furtive look before venturing to speak.
“Thank you, memsahib.”
“That’ll do. Wait over there.” Charles was cross again and Sara couldn’t understand why.
“Is something wrong?”
He answered her at last, speaking as though she were a small child who must be humoured. “Darling, you don’t have to be friends with her, but from now on Lakshmi will do everything for you.”
“Couldn’t it have waited a little? I would’ve liked to choose my own maid. Perhaps we won’t suit each other.”
“My sweet girl, you know you can’t turn up in your own home without a maid; the servants will despise you if you do. Anyway, it’s not for her to decide if you suit her. She’s here to do what you ask of her; that’s all there is to it.”
“I would like her to be happy, just the same.”
“As I said, her happiness is not an issue. She’s a hard worker, that’s what’s important, and trained by Lady Palmer herself. She’s been given to you as a wedding gift and you’re very lucky to have her.”
“A wedding gift? I was under the impression that slavery was illegal.”
“We do pay her, you know.” He spoke with a tinge of impatience in his voice. “Very well, as it happens, and she’s very grateful to have the position, I can assure you.”
“Then I must thank Lady Palmer when I see her,” she replied almost sweetly, though her eyes showed her resentment. “She’s very pretty.”
“Is she? I hadn’t noticed. One can never think of the Indian women as pretty … but of her type I suppose she’s attractive enough.”
Sara smiled up at him, wanting to break down the stiffness between them. “Has she a sweetheart?”
“Of course not …” he spluttered, and shook his head almost violently, as though the idea was unthinkable. “The men won’t have her … She has no family or dowry!”
“Poor girl … Is that why she seems so unhappy?”
He frowned, his patience at an end now. “Sara, my dear, you really do have an over-fanciful imagination. How can you tell if she’s happy or not without even knowing the girl?”
Sara was taken aback by the passion of his response, but at the sight of her shocked face, as soon as the servants were dismissed from the room, he hurried to console her.
“I’m sorry … Forgive me. It’s just that, after all this time, it’s a strain for us both and,” he added, taking her hand to kiss it, “I’m not used to being in the company of such a lovely and accomplished girl. I’ve forgotten how to behave.”
The gentle tone of his voice softened her a little, and she didn’t protest when he put his arms around her.
“I can’t believe you’re here at last.”
“I would have come at once if you’d sent for me.” Her tone was cool. She had to admit to having harboured a secret resentment towards him. It had been a niggling and often painful thought in the back of her mind that if he really cared for her there would’ve been no delay. In her heart she felt he should have swept her up in his arms and insisted on taking her on the ship with him, despite her aunt’s sudden illness. Though, even though she thought it, she studied his face and saw the truth of it. Despite his romantic exterior, it wasn’t his way to be impulsive.
“Well, you’re here now, and we have the rest of our lives together. Anyway, I couldn’t take the risk of you falling ill. You must trust me. We lost two of our community to the cholera this last time, one of them a young woman about your age …”
“Then you do care for me?” she asked with a smile.
“Of course I do, perhaps even more than I did before.”
He put out a hand to touch her hair. “I don’t remember you being so lovely; it’s come as quite a shock to me.”
“Have I changed so much?” She raised her face to his, while his eyes lingered on the tempting shape of her upper lip. He wondered why he’d never noticed it before.