The Peacock Throne
Page 32
Danbury looked away for a moment. The silence in the room stretched taut. Lydia had no desire to hurt him. Her heart ached at the thought that he might believe she had rejected him in some way. How could she explain?
After a long moment he turned back to them. “Harting, it looks as if you’ve acquired two agents for the price of one. I will not let her be pulled into this alone. I am going to stick nearby and keep an eye on her.”
Harting grinned and clapped him on the back. “I’m glad to hear it, brother. Let’s get to work.”
“Shall I notify Lord Wellesley?” asked Lydia.
“No.” The reply came in chorus.
She’d had no place making the offer so the answer was not unexpected. She smiled to herself even as the gentlemen stood to prevent her from any such exertion.
“You must rest and get better.” Danbury looked severe.
Heads together the gentlemen left the drawing room laying out hasty plans for departure.
Lydia threw a cushion at the closing door. How like men! They should know by now that she was no hothouse flower. A laugh bubbled up from her belly. They would learn.
HISTORICAL NOTE
One of my chief pleasures in writing historical novels is immersing myself in a world that is as foreign to our modern sensibilities as any high fantasy setting. I’ve done my best to get the details right, but there is also a good deal of invention on my part. And sadly, some of the really good stuff I was unable to use in the story because, frankly, no one would have believed me.
It may interest readers to know that the Peacock Throne was real. Crafted at the order of the great Mughal ruler Shah Jahan, it was supposedly captured in 1737 by Nadir Shah of Persia. I say supposedly because one of the seed ideas for this story was born when I realized that the Peacock Throne carried away from India looked nothing like the Peacock Throne that had been painted and described in Delhi. The first thing that popped into my head was: “What happened to the real throne?” With a moniker like the Peacock Throne, I was quite certain that it must have been something fantastic—and I promptly set about imagining what that might have been.
I tried to stay true to French strategies when it came to the development of the overarching plot to distract and divide British forces. I alluded to it in the story, but Napoleon had already attempted to reach Tippoo Sultan by invading Egypt and marching overland. Those plans never came to fruition, and when Napoleon realized that there was fresh political turmoil at home to be taken advantage of, and little chance of further victory where he was, he abandoned his men in Egypt and hastened back to France.
Sprinkled throughout the story are real people such as William Pitt and Lord Wellesley. I tried to distil what I learned about these gentlemen into characters that were fairly true—at least to who they were perceived to be by historians and biographers. Although if I’m honest, I can only hope that a contemporary would have recognized them.
Finally I would draw your attention to one of the most fascinating twists of history that didn’t make it into the story. On the island of Mahe in the Seychelles, Le Jardin du Roi spice plantation remains to this day. The lovely woman who runs it traces her lineage back to French nobles who fled the French revolution. This great great ancestor of hers claimed to be the lost dauphin. Late in life he confessed—or claimed, as your point of view may dictate—to be the surviving son and rightful heir of Louis the XVI and Marie Antoinette. There is a surviving legend that the lost dauphin was smuggled out of prison by English aristocrats and ultimately made his way to Mahe with a few loyal retainers. My character Pierre-Louis Poiret is based on this man. I hinted at his heritage but couldn’t bring myself to announce it out loud in the story. I feared that readers would refuse to suspend disbelief for such a stretch, even if it was one of the better-supported parts of the story!
Any and all errors in accuracy are my own. Some were made for the sake of the story, but others will have snuck in because I didn’t think to question my own assumptions on a given topic. Please forgive these oversights. If you’ve spotted something glaring, I’d love to hear from you! I can be contacted through my website: www.lisakaronrichardson.com.