Gemstones

by Janet Lane-Walters

  "Search again. I want that sapphire." He clamped his hat on his head. "Twa weeks, lassie."

  Once he'd vanished, the tears she'd held inside burst free with the same force as the monsoon rains now lashing the house. She sank to her knees on the carpet and pressed her forehead against her father's chair. For a short time, she allowed grief and fear to dominate. Then, she wiped her face on the skirt of her black silk afternoon dress.

  When would the escort arrive? Her insides churned at the thought of being forced into a marriage with Fergus Crawford. If he claimed guardianship of her sisters, who in Calcutta would protest? Why hadn't her parents said more about their families? Papa had been an orphan and Mama had only spoken of a cruel father and a timid mother. She'd never mentioned where in England they lived or said their name.

  Nicola had believed her life would continue in the pattern set after her mother's death. She would run the house, supervise and teach her sisters and evaluate gemstones for her father. The trade in jewels provided monies for household expenses and to be sent to London to be invested.

  She rose from the floor and entered the parlor where her sisters sat. Margaret jumped up. "Did he hurt you?"

  "He wouldn't dare." At least not yet. Nicola shuddered.

  "But I heard you crying."

  "He says I must marry him." She gulped a breath. "We can't stay here. We must be gone before he returns to the city."

  "Where will we go?" Elizabeth asked.

  "Papa wrote to Mr. Grey months ago and asked for someone to escort us to London." Nicola grasped the back of a chair. "We will go to our mother's family." She would see her sisters safe in London. Then she would return for she couldn't imagine living elsewhere.

  Margaret ran to the amah. The plump woman held the ten year old against her chest. Prabha's ebony eyes filled with tears. The amah had been with the family since Nicola's birth. She was the only mother Margaret knew."

  Margaret stamped her foot. "I want to stay with Prabha." Her voice rose to a wail.

  To forestall more tears, Nicola made a promise she wasn't sure she could keep. "She will come with us. Sarad, too. You must pack your things and be ready to leave."

  Once her sisters and the amah left the room, Nicola slumped on a chair. The fear she had hidden from them leaped into her thoughts like a tiger pouncing on a victim.

  A short time later, she stepped onto the verandah and strode toward the rear of the house. The heavy rains had lightened, but the day remained gloomy.

  She hadn't told her sisters that their father had arranged a marriage for her. She thought of her parents and the closeness they had shared. She wanted to find the same kind of life, but how could she with a stranger?

  "Papa," she cried. "Why did you leave us?"

  "Young Seeker."

  Nicola whirled. "Namtase, Yogi Yakshi. I didn't expect you today."

  "There is much I must tell you before you leave this land." He put a hand on her arm to still her cries of protest. "You must listen."

  She bowed her head. "I will hear."

  "There is a gem, the Third Eye of Siva. The one who has the gem as a gift will receive all he deserves."

  She frowned. Papa had mentioned Siva and the Third Eye. Cousin Fergus had demanded a large sapphire. Were they the same?

  "I don't understand."

  "This is not the time for understanding. It is the time of flight from danger."

  "Why did Papa leave us?"

  The elderly man took her hand. "My child, each of us remains on this plain for an allotted time. Your father has completed his cycle and now embraces a new existence."

  "How can you be sure?"

  He smiled. "This is the way of things."

  Nicola knew he would say no more on the matter. She leaned against the railing.

  "In the distant past, wise men cast horoscopes for those born in the future. I have seen yours. You have tasks to perform. In a far land, you will meet one who needs your loving spirit to release him from the bonds he has tied around his heart and soul."

  What did he mean? The yogi's teachings were often oblique and filled with mystical meanings. "I don't want to leave my home."

  "To stay is to court danger." Dark eyes filled with wisdom captured her gaze. "Once you look into the Third Eye of Siva, all will be clear."

  She swallowed. "I don't understand."

  "You must leave this land and fulfill your destiny. Forget not my teachings and choose your path to maksha carefully. The way of liberation from the cycles is difficult, yet each time you make the journey brings you closer to perfection."

  Sadness wove a dark pattern in her thoughts. "I will return. I can't live forever in a strange land."

  "Love will bind you to the place of your people. The path to kama is strewn with boulders, but in the end, you will find all the love you seek. My blessing goes with you."

  Nicola bowed to him. "May your days be filled with enlightenment."

  "And yours with learning. We have met before and our lives will be joined again."

  "I pray you are right."

  "Miss Nicola," Sarad called. "A man has come."

  Nicola watched the yogi until he reached the garden gate. She wanted to call him back and ask him to change the words he'd said and to give her hope of a return. After he vanished into the mist, she followed Sarad into the house.

  A slender, foppish man with graying hair paced from one side of the parlor to the other. At Nicola's entrance, he paused. "Miss Gordon."

  "Who are you?"

  "Isaac Timmons, at your service. Mr. Grey sent me to escort you and your sisters to London."

  Relief flooded Nicola. "When do we leave?"

  "The ship sails in a week. I trust you will be ready."

  She nodded. They would be safely away before Cousin Fergus returned to Calcutta. "We'll be ready. We've already begun to pack."

  "Very good." he smiled. "By the time we reach London, the Earl of Denmere will have signed the marriage contracts."

  She wished to forget that part of her father's plans. She turned away. Why must she wed a stranger?

  After Mr. Timmons was settled in the guest room, Nicola went to her bedroom. She lifted the pouch of gems her father had pushed into her hand the night he died. In England, her sisters would be safe. She tucked the pouch in her trunk. The gemstones would provide a means for her return.

  Chapter 2

  "Six bells!" The cry woke Nicola. The rocking motion and the creaking of the wooden ship failed to lull her back to sleep. She dressed and left the cabin. She stood at the ship's rail and tried to find features of the land hidden by the fog. As her thoughts focused on what lay at the end of the journey, her emotions bounced from curiosity to excitement and from anticipation to dread.

  Marriage to a stranger. An unknown grandmother. Though her father had tried to protect his daughters from his cousin, she wished there had been another way. Tears for the life she'd left behind nearly spilled over and added to the moisture on her cheeks left by the fog.

  She stared at the swirling mists. The odor of brine rode the wind. How could she believe this shrouded England would be a better place then the land she'd left behind? The Englishwomen in Calcutta had often spoken of their dreams of returning home. They hated the sun, the heat, the driving winds and rains of the monsoons. Nicola pulled her cashmere shawl closer and sighed for the bright chaotic land of her birth.

  Though January was part of the cool season in Calcutta, there were no winds like the ones that now whipped her skirts around her legs. She listened to the flapping sounds made by the sails. A cold chill made her shiver. Before they left London for Denmere, she would have to be sure her sisters and the servants had clothing appropriate for the weather.

  Would the London markets offer the wealth and variety found in Calcutta? She smiled. During the days before the ship had sailed, she and her sisters had made forays into the markets. Margaret had selected spices and herbs for cooking and perfumes. Elizabeth had chosen cloth, silks and co
ttons, enough to keep them in dresses for years. Nicola had discovered a number of gemstones and purchased several pieces of carved jade.

  As the mist thinned, she leaned against the rail. The wood felt rough beneath her hands. What had Cousin Fergus done when he returned to find them gone? Her hands tightened on the rail. When she imagined his rage over his thwarted plans, gooseflesh rose on her arms. She dreaded the thought of wedding a stranger, but she had no other choice. Papa, why? She blinked tears from her eyes.

  "Nica, Nica, land."

  When had Margaret left the cabin? Nicola gasped. Her youngest sister had climbed the rail. Margaret leaned into the wind. Brown hair streaked with russet tones had escaped her braid and flew around her face. Nicola grabbed the child and pulled her to the deck. During the voyage, Margaret had found a dozen ways to endanger herself, from climbing into the rigging to exploring the dark holds.

  "You will be breakfast for the fishes if you don't have a care." Nicola fought to keep fear from her voice.

  "I want to see home." Margaret spun around. "Prabha made me wear three dresses lest I feel the cold. She has wrapped all the blankets around her. I like the cold air. Are you excited about coming home?"

  Nicola shook her head. "Home is months behind us. I feel little liking for a fog-shrouded land." She captured her sister's hand.

  Margaret tugged free. "But Papa and Mama lived here. How can you not be excited?"

  A sigh escaped Nicola's lips. She didn't believe she could explain her fears and her dreams, especially to a child.

  Elizabeth strolled across the deck. Even after months of travel, she looked as though a dozen servants attended her. "Nica fears to meet the man she must wed. I think she has a dream she knows will go unfulfilled."

  What did Elizabeth know of dreams? With her face and fortune, she would have no worries.

  "I don't fear him." Not much, Nicola thought. She only feared the things he might make her feel. What if the Earl was a cruel or evil man like the one her mother had escaped? "I must admit to curiosity. Mr. Timmons has said little about him?"

  "I pray he's like Papa." Margaret skipped away.

  "If you had a choice, what kind of man would you marry?" Elizabeth asked.

  Nicola stared at the coastline and the river the skin moved toward. What kind of man? If she could choose, she'd have a hero like the gods of Hindu myth. "A tall, muscular man with skin bronzed by the sun and hair as black as polished jet. A man like Siva."

  Elizabeth laughed. "A myth is not a man. I would find a man who has wealth enough to buy me silks and jewels and give me a castle."

  Nicola shook her head. "What if you didn't love this rich man?"

  "Then I would take a handsome lover like some of the company wives do."

  Nicola gasped. "Elizabeth, how can you think such a thing?" She studied her sister. At nearly fifteen, Elizabeth showed the promise of great beauty. The mourning clothes enhanced her beauty instead of making her skin look muddy the way they did Nicola's. Elizabeth had natural qualities more of the sixty-four arts of the Kama Shastra than Nicola ever hoped to attain.

  Elizabeth shrugged. "I heard one of them say it was easier to love rich than poor. I wouldn't want to eat only rice and wear rags. That's not my dream."

  Nicola turned away. Until this voyage, she'd been too busy to dream. At home, her days had been full. Most nights, she'd been too tired to build fantasies. For eight years, responsibility for her sisters, their father and their home had been hers. What would happen when the weight belonged to another?

  Part of her felt glad, yet another part resisted. How could she turn the care of her sisters over to a stranger? She knew the girls and the things that made them happy or sad. She understood Elizabeth's need to be admired and Margaret's daring deeds stemmed from the loss of their father. Would a stranger know this?

  Tears welled in her eyes. Since her father's death, she had nearly cried so many times but she had to remain strong for her sisters. If not for Cousin Fergus' threat, she could have made a life for them. According to Mr. Timmons, there had been no other choice. Few women were deemed capable of controlling their own lives and money.

  Margaret skipped past. Nicola grabbed her sister's arm and motioned to Elizabeth. Once they reached the cabin, they ate the meal the cabin boy brought them. Then they set about packing the remainder of their belongings.

  Prabha sat on the edge of the lower bunk. The blankets hid all but her round face. "Ai, ai, where is the sun?"

  Nicola hugged the amah. "The fog has lifted."

  "I pray your husband is not as cold as the air."

  Nicola reached for a nightgown hanging on a hook beside the door. Though she had offered Prabha and Sarad enough money to purchase a house and land in India, Margaret's tears and tantrums had swayed the amah. Sarad had looked on the journey as an adventure.

  "What is this England like?" Prabha asked. "How grows the rice without the sun? Ai, ai, we will starve. We will turn to ice. Better for me and Sarad to stay in Calcutta."

  "And face Cousin Fergus' wrath," Elizabeth said. "He would have punished you because we were gone."

  "Say not his name. He be a demon. Do not speak of the bhujang and draw him here."

  The cobra. Nicola shuddered. She'd heard tales of how Cousin Fergus beat the natives he employed. Whispers had spread of the houses where he kept young girls. Nicola pulled Margaret onto the bunk between the amah and herself.

  What seemed like hours later, the motion of the ship ceased. Nicola heard shouts and the thud of booted feet. Margaret opened the door. Nicola dashed after her youngest sister. Mr. Timmons and Sarad stood beside the gangplank. Nicola dragged Margaret to join them. A brackish odor rose from the dark waters and caused Nicola to cough. She dropped Margaret's hand and pressed a handkerchief to her face. Men moved about the wooden deck. With a thud, the gangplank was lowered.

  Mr. Timmons turned. "A message has been dispatched to my employer. 'Twould be best if you wait in the cabin until his carriage arrives. Young,Sarad and I will see to your belongings and arrange for them to be carted to Denmere."

  Nicola swallowed. To arrive in a strange land was difficult, but to enter a stranger's house seemed worse. "Will you come with us?"

  "I have business matters to attend so I can't. Mr. Grey will await you at his house. He was your father's friend and I'm sure he is eager to have you."

  "Why must we stay in London? Could we go with the carts to Denmere?"

  Mr. Timmons clucked his tongue. "That is not the proper mode of transportation for a lady. Soon you will be a countess. Since the Earl must come to London to discuss business matters with Mr. Grey, it is only proper that he escort you and your sisters to your new home." He strode down the gangplank.

  Though there were a dozen questions she wanted to ask, Mr. Timmons moved too fast to give her time to frame them. She stared at the scene on the dock. Men dressed in rough clothes carried boxes and bales to long carts. Great nets filled with all manner of things were lifted from the holds and dropped to the wooden dock. A gray haze blurred the sun.

  "Margaret!" Sarad shouted.

  Nicola turned. Sarad pulled Margaret away from the gaping opening of one of the holds. Nicola muffled a cry with her hand. What mischief would her youngest sister find next? Noxious odors blended until no single smell could be identified. Nicola herded her party to the cabin.

  By the time Mr. Timmons returned, she could have gladly slapped her sisters. Elizabeth complained about the stuffy cabin and about the stench when the porthole was open. Margaret cried to be free of confinement. She climbed to the top bunk and jumped to the floor a dozen times. Prabha moaned and bewailed their probable fate in this cold land. Sarad left the cabin and finally returned with the older man.

  "Thank heavens you've come." Nicola rubbed her temples.

  Sarad grabbed a pair of portmanteaus. Two burly men pushed into the cabin and lifted the trunks to their shoulders. Nicola grabbed Margaret's hand and half-dragged the child down the gangplank and
across the wooden dock to the road where the carriage waited. Nicola, Prabha and the two girls climbed inside. Sarad rode with the driver.

  The carriage swayed. Margaret squealed and pointed to the sights. Nicola leaned against the squabs. What would she do if she didn't like the Earl? She grasped the pouch of gemstones. The means to escape an unwanted marriage was here, but first, she had to be sure Cousin Fergus had no way to gain control of her sisters and their fortunes.

  The carriage stopped. Nicola had no idea how long they'd been riding. When the door opened, she saw a row of houses build against a narrow walkway with no space between one house and the next. She longed for the bungalow with the wide verandah and the wall that enclosed the entire property. A lump of sadness settled in her throat.

  A man wearing a gray suit and a vivid blue waistcoat strode toward the carriage. In her haste to escape, Margaret trod on Nicola's foot and nearly knocked the man over. Nicola followed too late to catch her sister.

  "Margaret, come back."

  The gentleman chuckled. "Miss Gordon, welcome to England. Ian Grey at your service."

  Though she wanted to pursue her sister before the child found some new mischief, she paused and looked at the man. "Mr. Grey, how good of you to take us into your home. We appreciate the courtesy."

  "My pleasure." His thinning sandy hair showed hints of silver. "Your father and I were friends as well as business associates. Though I have just a bachelor's home to offer, your stay will be a delight."

  "Surely we could have stayed at an inn." Margaret raced back. Nicola signaled Sarad to capture her. "As you can see, my youngest sister has much energy."

  "Can you imagine the child cooped up in rooms at a hotel or an inn? She has the look of your father." Mr. Grey stepped forward to assist Elizabeth from the carriage. "And you, my dear, will take the ton by storm when you take your bows."

  Elizabeth smiled smugly. Nicola shook her head. Her sister had no need to hear words of flummery.

  "Come, let us go inside," Mr. Grey said. "I am so sorry your father is gone. I shall miss his letters."