Read Monsoon Mists Online

Authors: Christina Courtenay

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Family Saga, #Scottish, #Sagas, #Historical Romance, #Romance, #Adventure, #Historical, #Fiction

Monsoon Mists (11 page)

BOOK: Monsoon Mists
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‘Don’t want steal. Uncle make me. He bad.’

‘You live with your uncle?’

‘Yes, fader dead. Uncle big thief, outside town. How you say, bandit? Make me little thief. If not …’ She mimed hitting.

‘He’ll beat you?’ Jamie guessed. Roshani nodded. ‘And there is nowhere else you can go? No one who can take care of you?’

‘No, family all gone.’ Her expression turned hopeful. ‘Sleep outside
sahib
house? Me and Kutaro. Guard.’

Jamie almost laughed out loud. The idea of him being guarded by a scrawny eight-year-old and a mutt was ludicrous, but he could see that Roshani was in earnest. He stood up and pushed his fingers through his hair, which was hanging in front of his eyes and adding to his irritation. ‘Oh, hell,’ he muttered, then looked to the servant for support. ‘What am I supposed to do with her? I can’t have an eight-year-old girl living in my household. It wouldn’t be seemly. And I obviously can’t send her back to a life of crime.’

‘If she stays in the servant quarters, my wife is there,’ the servant said, somewhat dubiously.

Jamie weighed his options. He could either have Roshani carry out her threat of sleeping on his doorstep, and probably following him around too with the mangy cur on her heels, or he could compromise by allowing her to stay in the house as a servant. He took a deep breath and decided on the second option.

‘Very well, if you’re sure Soraya won’t mind, Kamal? Perhaps you can find the girl some tasks to perform? Something light, like, I don’t know … chopping vegetables? Running errands? But she’s to be thoroughly cleaned first. I’ll not have fleas in my house, do you hear? And find her some new clothes, those can be burned.’ He glanced at her threadbare tunic
,
which wasn’t fit for anyone. ‘I’ll pay for new ones.’

‘Do you understand, Roshani?’ he added, looking at her. ‘You can stay here as my servant, but only because I want to help you. You don’t owe me your life and you can leave at any time.’

‘Yes,
sahib
. Stay here. Kutaro too?’

Jamie eyed the dog, whose grin seemed to widen while the tail thumped on the floor. He nodded. ‘Very well, Kutaro too. You can help give him a bath after you’ve had one yourself.’

Kamal took charge. ‘
Sahib
, it will be as you command.’ He bowed, then fired off a rapid sentence at the girl.

Her face split into a huge grin, the brown eyes shining with happiness. She bounced up and down on the spot, the dog jumping with her. ‘Thank you, thank you,
sahib
,’ she said.

‘Yes, yes, now run along please.’ Jamie made a shooing motion and the girl danced off after the servant, the dog running at her heels.

He shook his head and closed his eyes. ‘Oh Lord, what have I done?’

But what else
could
he have done? It was the decent thing to do.

‘The contact has arrived. The man you asked me to look out for. You should have told me it would be a foreigner. Nearly gave me a heart attack when he said the secret words in front of my stepmother!’

William was sitting with Mansukh, one of the most formidable merchants in Surat. Rotund, with dark intelligent eyes that missed nothing, the man had a reputation as a tough trader who would deal in anything that might turn him a profit, but this was the first time they’d done any business together. William had tried a few times before, but been rebuffed, which was why he’d been very pleased to be approached by the merchant recently. The fact that Mansukh had entrusted him with an important task made it even better.

‘If you help me and we succeed, there will be a nice share of the profits for you,’ the merchant had promised. And although William suspected the ‘goods’, whatever it was, would turn out to be something illegal, he didn’t care. Why should he? This wasn’t his country and he was hoping to leave India soon in any case.

He’d been thinking for some time that he ought to return to England. His father had talked of the glittering life led by the upper classes there and said that merchants who’d made their fortune in India were accepted into the highest echelons of society, no matter their pedigree.

‘They may be sneered at by some of the titled folk, but those with dwindling fortunes and lots of daughters to marry off will turn a blind eye to your lineage. They can’t afford to be too choosey.’

William was sure he could find such a girl and marry into that world. It was where he felt he belonged, not here in this godforsaken place where he was a nobody. If he could just force Zar to marry then he could get his hands on half of her inheritance, sell the business and finish this deal with Mansukh. He would then have more than enough capital to satisfy any prospective father-in-law and live comfortably for the rest of his life.

‘A foreigner?’ Mansukh brought him back to the present. He seemed surprised and not at all pleased. ‘Why?’

‘How should I know? The man came to my house and spoke the agreed sentence, although in English. I couldn’t very well question him in front of an audience.’

‘No, I suppose not. We will need to find out more about him. You must arrange a meeting so he can hand over the goods as soon as possible. I need to send it on its way to Persia before the monsoon begins.’

‘Are you going to tell me what it is? Or do I have to wait until he hands it to me?’

Mansukh sent him a piercing look, as if he was trying to determine William’s trustworthiness and doubting it. ‘I’m not sure it would be wise for you to know.’

‘Why not? If it’s something illegal, I’m certainly not going to inform the authorities. That would be suicide. And if you don’t tell me, how will I know the man is giving me the right thing?’

Mansukh stayed silent for a moment, then nodded. ‘Very well, I will tell you. The item he is bringing is a talisman that used to belong to the Rajah of Nadhur. Let’s just say, it no longer does. It is highly conspicuous, however, and no one here would buy it.’

‘Because it’s stolen?’

‘I didn’t say it was. It changed hands, that’s all.’

William didn’t believe that for an instant. He wasn’t a complete moron. ‘Why then?’

‘It is imbued with powerful magic which would bring extremely bad luck to a new owner. Any dealer in India worth his salt would know that, which is why it has to be sold abroad as soon as possible. No one must know.’

‘I see.’ William wasn’t convinced. He didn’t believe in magic, that was superstitious nonsense, but if that was how Mansukh wanted to explain things, it was fine with him. ‘What does it look like? Just so I know I’m not being cheated.’

‘It’s a beautifully cut red diamond and a cabochon sapphire with some kind of inscription on it, both set in gold and topped with feathers. I’m sure you’ve seen such things before, turban ornaments, although this one is larger than most. You won’t be able to mistake it. I believe it’s unique.’

‘Very well, I’ll set up a meeting with the contact for the handover.’ William put his hand into his pocket and pulled out the large diamond he’d bought from Kinross. ‘Now I have something else you might be interested in buying …’

‘You are sure my stepson went straight to see Mansukh, the merchant, this morning? He didn’t go anywhere else?’

‘No,
sahiba,
straight there and then back. Looked very pleased with himself and perhaps even excited, Ali said, at least on the way there.’ Priya shrugged.

‘I need more information. I want details. Tell Ali from me, please? Whatever it costs, I have to know what’s going on. It seems very odd to me, this sudden amicable relationship.’

‘Yes, suspicious. But if those two are plotting something, I don’t know why you don’t give up and just sell your half of the business. It is not seemly, a woman doing such things. And you have no need. You would be rich enough to—’

‘Yes, thank you, Priya, I have heard your views on this before and I’ve told you I’m content for the moment. It gives my life a purpose. I have no husband and no children. What else would I do all day?’

‘You could get married again,’ Priya muttered, but she knew better than to look at her mistress. That was one subject they’d never agree on.

Zar didn’t even reply. What was the point? Priya would never understand. The mere thought of marriage made Zar feel physically sick and she thanked God daily for giving her the means to keep her freedom.

Priya changed tactic. ‘I hear you met a very handsome man,’ she said with a sudden smile. ‘You didn’t tell me.’

Zar had to turn away to hide the blush she felt staining her cheeks. There was only one man her servant could be referring to – Kinross.
Damn him!
Every time she thought about their encounter that morning, it made her blood boil. But she was honest enough to admit it wasn’t just fury at his presumptuous behaviour that made her hot all over. It was him, the man. He’d had some sort of strange effect on her. Those eyes, so cold one moment and then flashing like gems in sunlight the next. And his smile … But although he’d made it clear what he wanted, she could never agree. It was no better than marriage; in fact, it was worse.

She wasn’t going to let a man touch her that way ever again.

No matter how tempting the man was, she didn’t think it would be any different. She would be his plaything. He’d want to put his hands on her, touch her, squeeze her, hurt her … Zar shuddered as images of Francis’s hands on her skin rose in her mind. No, she wouldn’t think of it. It was in the past and he was gone.
Her former husband couldn’t reach her now.

And Kinross wouldn’t win that wager. Absolutely not.

Chapter Ten

‘What news from Madras?’

Bijal’s most trusted servant, Tufan, had entered his quarters via a secret entrance, but they were still talking in hushed whispers to make sure they weren’t overheard. The walls most definitely had ears in the palace of Nadhur and one couldn’t be too careful.

Situated in a far corner of the large palace complex, Bijal’s domain was almost as luxuriously appointed as the Rajah’s. Vaulted ceilings, decorated with the most intricate of designs, were supported by innumerable columns similarly adorned. Shining floors were strewn with carpets of high quality and enormous cushions surrounded by low tables where Bijal could enjoy a rest from his endeavours. As Grand Vizier, he could afford to spend lavishly, but he barely noticed his surroundings. To him, these were just temporary quarters until he could put his grand plans into action.

‘All is well. The lapidary had a foreign friend who agreed to take the item to Surat. I watched him board an English ship myself and sent someone to keep an eye on him. It will take him a while to find his contact upon arrival, I should think.’

‘Excellent. We can’t take any chances, however. You must set out for Surat yourself in a few days and make sure all goes as planned. I will follow later this month when the wedding cavalcade leaves. It will pass close to Surat on the way to Ahmedabad and I’ll arrange a meeting place for us there.’

The servant’s eyebrows rose. ‘Will the marriage still go ahead, even without the talisman? I thought …’

Bijal smiled. ‘I have assured him I’m doing my utmost to find it and told him not to worry. He will continue as planned, at least until he gets closer to his destination. Once it becomes clear to him that the jewel won’t be found, he will have to turn back, but for now, everything remains the same. It’s going to be a huge embarrassment for him.’ He felt his smile widen at the thought. ‘Don’t worry, all will be well.’

Tufan bowed. ‘Yes, Master. And the other matter?’ The servant glanced around nervously, even though it was the middle of the night and no one was likely to be awake.

‘We must proceed as discussed. The Rajah’s
half-brother is easily led. If I tell him there is a particularly beautiful woman waiting for his attention at the place we agreed, he will go immediately. He is voracious when it comes to females, which is all to our advantage. Along the way, you must make sure he meets with an accident. Elephant, do you think? Better than poison.’

The servant nodded. ‘Yes, that would be best. Anyone could fall off one of those, especially if they have imbibed a little too much of that foreign beverage he likes so much.
Shari-
 … no
shori-
, er …’

‘Shiraz wine, yes, I know. Good thinking. I will make sure to send some with him and perhaps share a cup or two before he leaves. And then, the poor elephant would panic and trample him. So sad. Tomorrow night?’

‘I’ll be waiting.’

The following evening, as she ate her meal alone, Zar’s thoughts returned to Priya’s words. There was no disputing the fact that she was lonely. William went out almost every night and she was never invited to come along. Not that she wanted to spend time with him or his odious friends, but still …

If only she’d had a child. But she hadn’t and now she was by herself yet again.

She’d tried inviting some of the other English women after her husband’s death, but it was as if she’d turned into a pariah overnight. Francis’s presence at her side had ensured invitations to dine, to receptions and picnics or other outings, but these days the only place she ever went was to the English Factory. And she knew why they continued to invite her.

They were still hoping one of them would win her hand in marriage, and thus, make someone a rich man instantly. Well, they could forget that.

It didn’t stop her from going though, however painful she found it having to refuse all the numerous suitors. She was desperate for company and that was her only chance to socialise.

‘You could contact your mother’s family,’ Priya had suggested once, but Zar knew that wouldn’t be much better. Her mother, Noor, had been disowned by her Parsee father for marrying a foreigner. Zar doubted a granddaughter would be any more welcome. And she didn’t want to meet someone so callous.

The Parsees were the third most numerous ethnic group in Surat and quite distinct from the Hindus and the Moors. They had lighter skin, but the same dark hair as everyone else, and the men all wore beards. Known to be hard workers, most of the town’s craftsmen – such as shipbuilders, carpenters and weavers – were Parsees and they also worked the land outside the town. Many of them were servants to the
banias
or Europeans and highly valued as they abhorred laziness.

BOOK: Monsoon Mists
12.16Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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