By Eastern windows

by Gretta Curran Browne

  ‘Mr Morley…’ Lachlan said in a carefully subdued voice, ‘kindly remember that you are on military premises now, and we do not like our quiet corridors disturbed by the screaming of irate civilians.’

  ‘Don't you dare act the supercilious staff officer with me, sir! I know what you are, Macquarie. What I always thought you were. A conniving fortune hunter! And now you've proved it by trying to get your hands on Jane's money!’

  Lachlan looked at Jane's brother-in-law with a contempt he made no further effort to conceal. ‘Your accusation, Mr Morley, is offensive, and I have warned you once before that my tolerance has a limit.’

  Morley threw down the letter written on expensive English bond. ‘There's the proof! There it is! You, sir, have made an order upon the London bankers, Messrs Francis and Gosling, to provide the money for a London-made carriage that you intend to purchase and have shipped out here to Bombay! As well as silver and plate engraved with the Arms of Mull!’

  Calmly, Lachlan read quickly down the single sheet of paper. ‘The carriage,’ he said, ‘was in fact ordered before our wedding by Jane, as was the request to Messrs Francis and Gosling to make payment. As soon as I learned of it, I wrote to the London carriage makers cancelling the order.’

  ‘And the silver and plate?’

  ‘That was also ordered by my wife, wishing as she did, to have her silver and plate adorned with the Macquarie Arms, and that I allowed to go through.’

  ‘And who did you expect to pay for it? You are well aware that the marriage contract forbids you to touch Jane's money or any of the interest accruing from it.’

  ‘And I have not done,’ Lachlan replied in puzzlement. ‘What the hell are you accusing me of? Jane has not sought to use any of her own money either, she knows she cannot do so until she is twenty-one.’

  ‘So where did she hope to get the money for her fancy carriage then? For her silver and plate?’

  ‘From the thousand pounds I gave to her as a wedding gift. The thousand pounds that you insisted I also deposit with Messrs Francis and Gosling. It’s Jane’s money to spend however she likes, and she has chosen to spend some of it on purchases for our home.’

  ‘No, sir, you are mistaken!’ Morley shook his head in vigorous protest. ‘If you had taken the time to read the marriage contract carefully, you would have seen that the contract forbids her to touch even the interest on that thousand pounds.’

  Lachlan looked at Morley as if unable to believe what he was hearing. ‘What the bloody hell are you talking about?’

  ‘The money you deposited with Messrs Francis and Gosling is now invested in English funds,’ Morley said, ‘and that sum and all accruing interest from it cannot be touched without first receiving the written consent of Jane’s trustees, who are myself and Mr Tasker.’

  ‘You mean … she has no access … even to the wedding present I gave her?’

  ‘No – not without the written consent to Messrs Francis and Gosling of myself and Mr Tasker.’

  Lachlan was silent for a moment. ‘Mr Morley,’ he said finally, ‘I have been very fair and agreeable to all your requests, foolishly fair, I see that now. Surely you know that Jane ceased to be your ward from the day she married me. And surely you also know that in any other marriage, a wife's money and property becomes her husband's from the day of the wedding – by law.’

  ‘Then you must recourse to the law, sir, because that's the only way you or Jane will ever get your hands on any of that money. You see, Mr Thomas Jarvis of Antigua who still holds most of Jane's money in his charge has refused to hand it over, until a guarantee is obtained from her trustees that the money will be used only and solely for the benefit of any children his sister may have. The care of Jane herself and all her wants and needs are your financial responsibility now.’

  Morley's eyes were dark with malice. ‘So you will have to meet the bill for her silver and plate yourself, won't you? Messrs Frances and Gosling won't meet it, I assure you. If you want silver engraved with the Macquarie Arms, it will have to be paid for with Macquarie money, which shouldn't present too much of a problem to a man who has no savings, and yet has been living these past months and entertaining all Bombay in the style of a man of fortune! Yes, indeed, sir, like a man of fortune. Or one who shortly expects to gain one.’

  ‘So you –’ Lachlan’s eyes flashed, ‘a pugnacious old nabob, along with that arrogant slave-owner in Antigua, still believe I only sought to marry Jane for her money?’

  He looked at his brother-in-law with an expression of profound and final repugnance. ‘Get out – now! Out of this office and out of this building!’

  ‘I have not finished yet,’ Morley shouted. ‘I have more to say and I will leave when I desire and not before! I don't think it has escaped your notice, sir, that I have considerable influence around here, especially with – ‘

  Lachlan had risen from his chair and crossed to open the door from where he beckoned to two soldiers of the 77th standing sentry down the corridor who came at the double. The soldiers looked at the captain's face and saw something his visitor had obviously not seen – Macquarie's urge to kill and his desperate struggle for control.

  ‘Sir?’

  ‘Escort this man out. And if he attempts to delay then lift him up and throw him out!’

  The two sentries glanced at each other – like most soldiers they despised the civil servants, and the pleasure of throwing one out a door was a dream of pure fantasy – but if an order was given.

  ‘Yes, sir!’ They moved each side of Morley and caught an arm. ‘Come along, sir.’

  Outraged, Morley roared, ‘By God, you'll not get away with this, Macquarie! I shall go straight to the Governor-General about you!’

  ‘You can go to damnation if necessary!’ Lachlan replied savagely, ‘Just make sure you never come near me again!’

  ‘I shall go straight to General Balfour – ‘

  ‘Out! Before I kill you!’

  The two sentries moved into action, tightening their grip on Morley’s arms. ‘Come along, sir. Time for you to leave.’

  *

  It was some hours before Lachlan could inwardly muster a sufficient command of himself to set out on the journey home and break the news to Jane. But it was imperative that she should know, and without delay, that whatever arrangements she might wish to make to see her brother-in-law in the future, James Morley would never again be allowed to enter Lachlan Macquarie's house, nor Lachlan Macquarie's life, ever again.

  She would cry her eyes out ... if only because of Maria.

  And then he would have to tell her that she could not have her silver and plate, because they had no money, and were on the brink of penury.

  ‘Oh, hell,’ he said dismally.

  His horse rounded the last bend onto the tree-lined avenue leading to the large and secluded white house that was his home. He frowned at the sound of hooves and wheels, checked his horse in a pause, and then turned his head in slow disbelief as a carriage sped past him with the window curtains tightly shut.

  It was Morley's carriage. The restless dog had got here first!

  *

  At the house he heard her footsteps running along the veranda even before he had dismounted and relinquished his horse to the care of the syce.

  He turned and looked at her speculatively, and knew the devil had done his worst. She was standing on the step waiting for him, tense and upset. He removed his hat and pushed a hand through his hair as he stepped onto the veranda.

  ‘Lachlan!’ Her voice was breathless. `Lachlan ... James has been here, he's only just left.’

  ‘Yes, I know.’ He lifted her hand and kissed it. ‘Don't look so tragic, my love.’

  She drew in a harsh breath. ‘But, Lachlan, he said – ‘

  ‘A whole blather of things, I'm sure, but there is no need to tell all the servants.’

  Jane turned her head to see a number of the servants had gathered in a small group at the end of the veranda and were exchanging animate
d whispers.

  ‘But, Lachlan – ‘

  ‘Not now, not yet,’ he commanded softly, and then called down the veranda to the House Steward who was the ringleader of the whisperers. ‘Bappoo!’

  ‘Huzoor?’

  Bappoo came running, a big man with a permanent smile on his face, adjusting his loose turban before giving a salaam.

  ‘Yes, Huzoor?’ Bappoo said cheerfully.

  Lachlan emitted a weary sigh, about to tell Bappoo once again that there was no need to call him Huzoor – Your Honour – but Bappoo was a law unto himself.

  ‘Bring us tea.’

  ‘Oh, yes, Huzoor! I bring tea in two months.’

  Lachlan nodded, knowing Bappoo's English often confused minutes with months and a great deal else. ‘As quickly as you can.’

  *

  ‘You see, the family's obsession with fortune-hunters, and their dislike of all soldiers, is all due to my sister Rachel,’ Jane explained later. ‘Rachel married a most handsome Englishman, a charming young lieutenant who had been stationed in Antigua with his regiment, and was about to return to England. His credentials were of the highest order. He came from a respectable family of wealth and rank. And away Rachel sailed with him, having brought to the marriage a very substantial dowry.’

  ‘I think I can guess the rest,’ Lachlan said tiredly.

  ‘Well nobody else guessed. No one had the slightest suspicion that Woodward was not from a good family by any means. Papa was appalled when he discovered that Rachel had not married prosperously after all.’

  ‘Ah,’ Lachlan said, ‘is this the infamous Woodward whose name is forbidden to be breathed, and the reason why Maria always changed the subject whenever your sister Rachel was mentioned?’

  Jane nodded. ‘Woodward sold his commission in the Army as soon as he returned to England. Then he lived the life of a lord on the marriage dowry and did away with the money in the space of a year on wine, women and gambling. According to James, it was rumoured that Woodward often lay a thousand pounds on the turn of one card. He lost in the end, of course, lost all the money. Poor Rachel was reduced to poverty, but when Papa died he left her not one penny in case her scoundrel of a spouse got his hands on it.’

  At last, Lachlan was beginning to understand. ‘And James Morley and your brother in Antigua are convinced that I am another Woodward? Is that it?’

  ‘That's it,’ she replied honestly. ‘James is convinced of it.’

  ‘Damn James,’ he said angrily.

  *

  Bappoo's face beamed like the sun when, a week later, he was told that he would not be dismissed with most of the other servants, but would accompany the Sahib and his wife to their new house.

  ‘You will have to do a lot more work than you do now,’ Lachlan told him bluntly.

  ‘Good, good, excellent.’ Bappoo looked very pleased with himself.

  Lachlan studied Bappoo's smug face, knowing that Bappoo always managed to get out of doing any task he considered not to be in his unwritten contract of employment. But he liked Bappoo, if only for his pleasing manner and unwavering good humour – a precious necessity in the frugal days ahead.

  ‘You must be willing to do whatever task is required of you, Bappoo. Even if it is outside the role for which you were originally engaged as House Steward. It will no longer be acceptable for you to refuse to lift even a water-jar from the garden because you are the "House" steward, or because of your often-repeated excuse that you are "no strong and have bad back."’

  He looked wryly at the huge brown man who appeared as strong as a Moor barbarian, dressed in voluminous white muslin pantaloons, embroidered waistcoat, and white turban.

  ‘You must be willing and able to do all things asked of you, Bappoo. Are you agreeable to that?’

  ‘Oh yes, Huzoor, yes, yes, by Jove! Your unworthy servant agree to be father and mother, son and daughter, sun and moon, cloud and rain, and all things pukka desired by the Captain-sahib and his lady Mem.’

  ‘If you just carry out your normal day-to-day duties, that will be enough.’

  ‘For the Captain-sahib and his Memsahib,’ Bappoo spread his hands expansively, ‘Bappoo also agrees to do enough. Yes, enough!’ And still smiling happily, Bappoo raised his fist and shouted the words that all Englishmen seemed to shout when they agreed with something. ‘Hear! Hear!’

  *

  By the end of the week the Macquaries had removed to their new house, which was smaller, and half the rent of their bridal home. They brought with them only a handful of essential servants including Bappoo and Jane's eleven-year old little Indian maid, Marianne.

  Without even a pause for reflection, Jane had accepted her reduced circumstances without a word of complaint, declaring proudly that no amount of money could compensate for character, and as her brother in Antigua and her brother-in-law in Bombay had obviously become a pair of ill-natured characters, she would have no further contact with either of them.

  She would also show them, she declared, that the Macquaries could manage very well without that beastly money which had caused so much trouble. And then, like a pioneering Englishwoman, rather than a pampered white child from Antigua, she set about arranging her new establishment on the system of English modesty instead of Eastern luxury. She took charge of all household expenses and viewed all prices with a careful eye.

  She discovered that an entire lamb cost three rupees, whereas five rupees bought only a mound of cheese. She had never realised that cheese was a luxury, but it was, so cheese would have to go!

  Madeira – two rupees a bottle – but English claret demanded sixty-five rupees a dozen. Now there was a saving! Her pen dashed claret from the list with all the nonchalance of a fan wiping away a fly.

  ‘Madeira will grace our dining-table well enough,’ she said to Lachlan, who could not help admiring her efforts at ruthless economy, bearing in mind that her life hitherto had been rich and plenty.

  But Jane showed no signs of missing her former luxuries, and instead of the usual ornate carriage behind a prancing team of four, she seemed quite happy to travel in and around Bombay in a modest gig, behind a solitary old white horse which, she insisted, possessed the ‘sweetest’ nature, and was much better than any other horse she had known.

  *

  Meanwhile, James Morley, still ranting biliously about a certain staff officer, decided to quit Bombay for a time and follow his wife to England where he could ensure that she spent not one penny of his money on English purchases for her sister Jane. Oh yes, he knew all about the number of ‘small items’ that Jane had asked Maria to purchase for her in London.

  Jane was beset with worry when she heard of James's departure to England. ‘He will give Maria the most distorted account of it all,’ she said anxiously to Lachlan over dinner. ‘And even though I have written to Maria and explained everything in great detail, when James arrives with his version of events, I'm sure Maria will not know who or what to believe.’

  She snatched up an orange and began peeling it with shaking hands. ‘And then there's my other two sisters in England ... I wrote telling them all about my gallant officer and what a wonderful husband you are, but I fear James will convince them that you are merely another ne'er-do-well.’

  Her hands went still over the orange. ‘Oh, Lachlan ... James seems to detest you so much, I think it quite probable he will spend his first weeks in England doing nothing else but complaining about you.’

  Lachlan shrugged, unconcerned. ‘I shouldn't worry,’ he advised her wryly. ‘From what I have observed of dear James, I think it quite probable that he will fret himself to death before he even reaches England.’

  SIX

  The silver and china adorned with the Macquarie Arms arrived from England.

  Jane's delight was so great, Lachlan knew it would be cruel to suggest sending them back. But he did, just the same.

  ‘We can't, Lachlan. Oh we can't send them back!’ Jane moved a finger lovingly over the engraving of the Macquarie
Arms. ‘They can't be re-sellable, can they? Not with the Macquarie Arms on every piece.’

  That was a very valid point.

  She stood clutching a silver salver to her breast, staring at him, her eyes stilled in a desperate plea. Suddenly he knew he had no choice, no choice at all. No matter how much his heart quailed at the prospect, he would have to go to his bankers and take out a loan at the current astronomical rate of twelve per cent interest.

  ‘Can we keep it, Lachlan? Please! Can't you find a way of paying for them, somehow?’

  ‘For you, my sweet Jane,’ he said in all truth, ‘I would do almost anything.’

  *

  ‘Four thousand rupees!’

  Jane stared at the banker's draft that had just been handed to her by John Forbes. Slowly she turned and handed the bank draft to Lachlan.

  ‘But why?’ Jane said in amazement, turning back to John Forbes, ‘why should the old brigadier leave anything to me?’

  John Forbes smiled.`Because he had a sincere affection for you, Jane. It seems you were very gracious and kind to him once, at a party. And that is why he left you this gift in his Will.’

  Left her a hundred rupees at the most, Lachlan thought, studying the draft in his hand, not four thousand – the exact amount they needed immediately, and the exact amount he had applied to borrow from his bankers only yesterday.

  But now it had arrived as a gift.

  Lachlan looked at his banker and saw that John Forbes was avoiding his eyes.

  ‘You will stay to dinner, John?’ Jane asked.

  ‘No, Jane dear, thank you, but my nephew Charles has arrived from England and will be expecting me to dine with him. And anyway,’ Forbes added with a small laugh, ‘since your wedding I have dined so often at the Macquaries' table I think you both must be well and truly sick of me by now.’