Monsoon Mists (5 page)

‘You bring goods to trade?’ the customs official asked.

Jamie shook his head and smiled. ‘No, I’m just a traveller, looking at the sights of your lovely country.’

Which was very far from the truth, especially this time.

Released from the customs house at last, Jamie found a couple of
majurs
– common labourers – willing to help carry his belongings. As always, they’d been loitering around the
maidan
in the hope of finding just such work. Jamie travelled fairly light, but had nevertheless brought two chests filled with clothes and all manner of artefacts. He’d learned early on that packing an esoteric collection of Indian and Chinese items, such as figurines, daggers, silk cloth and ornaments of ivory and brass, diverted the customs officials’ attention and stopped them from looking too closely at the chests themselves. Had they done so, they would have found several secret compartments filled with gemstones of various kinds. Some of the figurines also contained stones, as did the dagger handles. Jamie had secret hiding places wherever possible, even inside a pair of European shoes whose heels were hollow. Creating these compartments was the first thing he’d done when he began in the gem trade. Now he was doubly pleased he’d taken this precaution, as the fake talisman was hidden inside one of those shoes.

‘I’m not taking any chances,’ he’d told Akash, and so far, no one had ever found his precious stones.

He headed left, catching a glimpse of the
darbar
– the governor’s residence – behind another building beyond the
maidan
. He recalled from his previous visit that most of the population lived inside the inner wall; indeed this part of Surat was so filled with houses you hardly saw any open spaces apart from the squares. He was walking towards Saudagarpura. Here the richest of the city’s inhabitants had their mansions, some along the river. It was also where the English Factory was situated and this was Jamie’s first port of call.

The Factory was leased from one of the city’s richer merchants, and thus the building was in the same style as those around it. A large courtyard, teeming with people, was reached via a gateway. Various buildings surrounded it, among them a chapel without any statues of any kind as no one wanted to offend the Mohammedans – or Moors as the foreigners called them – who objected to such idolatry. Jamie knew from experience that the accommodation offered was good. He didn’t want to spend too long there, however, but as a starting point it would serve him well. In the courtyard, he was lucky enough to come across a familiar face.

‘Andrew!’ he called out. ‘Andrew Garwood, by Jove, are you still here?’

The man in question stopped at the sound of his name and turned to stare at Jamie, his startled expression turning into a grin of welcome. ‘Kinross! I should have recognised that voice immediately. How are you? What brings you here?’

The two men shook hands. They’d met four years earlier, when the Swedish ship Jamie was travelling on docked at Surat for a time. Andrew was the sort of easy-going man it wasn’t difficult to strike up a friendship with and the two had connected immediately.

‘Oh, this and that. I’m a gem trader now, have been for a few years. I’m here on business, but thought I’d stay for a while. A couple of weeks, perhaps more. I’ll be looking for a house to rent. Do you think there’s room for me here until I find somewhere or should I look for an inn?’

‘Of course you must stay here, I’ll arrange it, but I think you’re in luck. I happen to know of a house that’s just become vacant which might suit you. First things first, let’s get you settled inside. Is that your luggage?’

‘Yes.’ Jamie directed the
majurs
to follow them.

‘Good, good.’ Andrew led the way. ‘Oh, and you’ve arrived just in time for a
soiree
. The Chief Factor is having one of his little gatherings tonight. Should be jolly.’

Jamie groaned inwardly. He hadn’t really planned on socialising, at least not with the English, but there was nothing for it except to grin and bear it. ‘Excellent, I shall look forward to that,’ he lied.

Stifling a sigh, he followed Andrew into the building.

Chapter Five

‘So I take it you haven’t met the “Ice Widow” then?’

‘The what?’ Jamie raised his eyebrows at Andrew.

‘You heard me, and very apt it is too, that nickname. Her frosty glances are enough to freeze off any man’s, er …’ Andrew coughed. ‘That is to say, she doesn’t care much for us gentlemen, as I understand it. Or as husband material, at any rate. Come with me, I’ll introduce you.’ Andrew’s expression betrayed his excitement and expectation and he added sotto voce
,
‘This should be a treat.’

‘Why?’

But Andrew either didn’t hear the question or chose to ignore it.

They were part of a gathering in what was normally the dining hall of the English Factory. The large tables that usually filled the space had been removed to allow a sizeable crowd to stand around in groups, chatting, gossiping and laughing. Servants circulated with beverages of various kinds. Despite large fans keeping the air moving, the atmosphere in the room was stifling and Jamie wished he hadn’t agreed to come. He hated socialising these days and it was only politeness that had made him give in to Andrew’s persuasions.

As they walked across the room, Jamie caught sight of a woman dressed in the English style, and yet somehow different from the few other ladies present. Her gown was made out of shimmering turquoise silk, with a petticoat of a lighter hue in the same material forming an inverted V at the front below the edge of the bodice. As was the fashion, the sleeves of the gown ended just above the elbow with a flounce. The lace of her chemise peeped out below this and also around the edge of the low-cut décolletage, which emphasised her curves.
And what curves!
His eyes opened slightly at this vision and even wider still when he caught sight of her face. She was breathtakingly lovely in a rather exotic way.

Unfortunately her expression ruined the overall impression. Haughty, with her chin tilted slightly upwards as though she looked down on lesser mortals, she surveyed the room as if she were a
rani
, an Indian queen, at the very least. So this must be the ‘Ice Widow’. Jamie’s heart sank. By the looks of it she was another spoiled beauty, just like the one he’d been married to. He groaned inwardly. He had no wish to meet her and had to repress an urge to just turn and run out of the room.

She was stunning though, no doubt about it.

Even from a distance he could see that her eyes were luminous and surprisingly light-coloured, a fact that was accentuated by her very dark, long lashes. She turned and stared straight at him as he and Andrew came closer. Jamie couldn’t pull his gaze away for a moment as he took in the irises of those eyes – peridot-green in the middle, then turning to iridescent aquamarine. He’d never seen anything like it before. They were a startling contrast to the woman’s hair, such a dark brown colour it was almost black and arranged in a simple plait which hung over one shoulder, skimming a high, full breast before falling past her waist. She had flawless skin, a fraction darker than most of the women around her, which made Jamie realise she must be a half-caste – part Asian, part European.

Interesting.

When Andrew stopped in front of her and spoke her name, ‘Mrs Miller,’ Jamie could have sworn she hesitated and her mouth tightened for a fraction of a second. It seemed clear she was reluctant to talk to either of them and only good manners forced her to reply.

Haughty, spoiled and rude into the bargain. His jaw tightened even further. Lord, how he hated women like that. What made them feel they were so superior? That they could ride roughshod over every male they encountered? It was unbearable.

‘Mr Garwood,’ she said politely, but in a cold voice, holding out her hand to Andrew. He bent over it with an old-fashioned flourish, but to Jamie it looked as though she barely curbed a desire to snatch her fingers back. Poor Andrew. Jamie hid a smile as an idea came to him. It would seem the best way to rile her would be to pretend to court her. And for some reason, he suddenly wanted to pay her back for her very obvious disdain by teasing her a little.

‘May I introduce Mr Kinross? He’s but newly arrived here in the city.’ Jamie saw Andrew watch her reaction to the newcomer, as if he expected her to act in a certain way. There was a flash of something – awareness, surprise? – as she took in Jamie’s features, but nowhere near the response he normally received from women. Jamie knew he was considered handsome and his good looks often caused a stir, something he’d learned to ignore. On this occasion they had no effect, which for some contrary reason annoyed him. Or perhaps she was just very good at hiding her emotions? Because he felt a definite current between them and couldn’t deny that he was physically attracted to her. What warm-blooded man wouldn’t be?

She again held out her hand, a small nod acknowledging the introduction. ‘Mr Kinross,’ she murmured, her voice low and seductive, but Jamie doubted she did that on purpose. Her expression made clear that seducing anyone was definitely not her intention. A shame, but perhaps he could make her change her mind? It would be amusing to try. He bent over her hand, taking her limp fingers in his and grazing her knuckles with the stubble he hadn’t shaved off that morning, as well as his lips. The hand was pulled out of his grip quickly and he heard her intake of breath, but he didn’t give her the chance to protest.

‘It’s extremely hot in here, don’t you think?’ he commented, giving her a half-smile. ‘Would you care to take a turn in the roof garden with me, Mrs Miller?’

Since Jamie had been here before, he remembered the haven above them where he and Andrew had spent time chatting during his previous visit. It was the perfect place for courting a woman. Or pretending to.

She glanced around, obviously searching for a way to refuse, but then she straightened her shoulders as though preparing for battle. Very reluctantly she nodded and Jamie saw a mixture of resignation and irritation in her eyes as she placed a few fingers on his outstretched arm. ‘Very well. I suppose that would be … nice.’

Andrew grinned and winked at Jamie. He obviously thought Jamie had taken up his unspoken challenge and decided to charm the cool widow. ‘Enjoy the sights,’ he called after them as they headed slowly for the doors opening onto the stairs.

‘I’m sure I shall,’ Jamie murmured, looking straight at Mrs Miller, and had the satisfaction of seeing her throw him a disapproving glare. ‘Moonlight is so beautiful, don’t you think?’ he added with a smile. She didn’t reply.

Outside in the balmy night air, other people strolled too, but Jamie deliberately headed for an empty corner. He wasn’t going to try and seduce the woman, but he wanted to see what her reaction would be to spending time alone with him, if she was so averse to men. There were lanterns dotted around the balustrade, so the place he steered her to wasn’t all that dark, but it still felt a bit too intimate for such a short acquaintance. Jamie wondered if he was doing the right thing, teasing her this way, but then he remembered her expression earlier. As if she was doing them a favour by even talking to them. Jamie resolved to play her at her own game.

‘Would you like to …’ he began, holding out a hand to indicate the bench, but she interrupted him.

‘No, I prefer to stand,’ she muttered, turning to stare out across the river which glimmered in the moonlight.

‘Very well.’ Jamie moved to join her in gazing at the view and she immediately stepped to the side to create a gap between them, even though her skirts kept him well away already. He stayed where he was. For now. ‘My friend tells me you are a widow, Mrs Miller,’ he said in order to start the conversation.

‘Yes, my husband died last year,’ she replied, sounding less than enthusiastic at this line of questioning.

He gathered she didn’t like to talk about this and thought that perhaps it made her sad. He bowed slightly and commented, ‘I’m sorry for your loss. You must feel it keenly, being on your own.’

‘Thank you, but I prefer it.’

‘You like solitude?’ Jamie didn’t bother to hide his surprise. It wasn’t a sentiment most women shared as far as he’d gathered.

‘Yes.’

No explanation seemed to be forthcoming, so he just commented, ‘That is … unusual.’ He gestured again towards the bench. ‘Are you sure you wouldn’t like to sit for a while? You can still admire the view, you know.’

She shot him a look which he couldn’t interpret, then shrugged. ‘We won’t be staying up here for very long, but by all means …’ She sank down, spreading her skirts so wide Jamie raised his eyebrows.

‘Pardon me, but unless you wish me to sit on your gown, would you mind moving the material slightly? Or are you trying to indicate that you’d prefer me to stand?’

He saw her cheeks take on a tinge of colour, but she moved her skirts enough for him to be able to sit.

‘So tell me, why won’t we be staying for very long? Have you tired of my company so soon?’ he joked.

‘No. That is … we only came up for a quick breath of fresh air.’

‘Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m not in any hurry to return to the stuffiness below.’ She made no response to this, so he guessed she didn’t agree, but he’d be damned if he went downstairs quite that quickly. Surely she could give him a few more moments of her time? He continued with the small talk. ‘Tell me, do you not find it difficult being on your own here in Surat?’

‘No, as I said, I prefer it.’

‘You wouldn’t rather live in England?’

‘Absolutely not.’ When he again raised his brows at her, she added, ‘I grew up here. England is a foreign country to me.’

‘Ah, I see. Then I suppose you’ll be looking to marry someone who is planning to stay in India.’

‘No, I’m not.’

Jamie was taken aback by this forthright answer, but she pre-empted any reply he would have made by standing up and turning to fix him with a glare.

‘Look, I may as well tell you now – I know where this is leading and the answer is no, Mr Kinross,’ she said, her voice tight and her expression one of quiet determination. ‘And … and now I wish to go downstairs again.’