She studied his face. Something in the solemnness of his tone told her he wasn’t simply saying kind words. He was sincere. She took the package and turned it over in her hands. Her heart was beating, undoubtedly with the anticipation of a gift. She could think of no other reason for her hands to be trembling.
Sitting on the sofa, she untied the string, carefully pulling the paper away to reveal a small wooden elephant. Intricate carvings decorated the gold blanket on its back, and the figurine was painted with colorful designs. Helen was amazed at the amount of detail on something so small. Even the delicate eyelashes and toenails were carved and painted.
“Oh,” she breathed, running her finger over the bumps on the trunk. “It is so beautiful.” When she looked up at Captain Rhodes, she saw that he watched her with soft eyes and a tilted head. The sight made her heart beat strangely again, and she wondered if it was the growing heat of the day that was causing her curious reactions. Or maybe she needed to eat something. “Thank you, Captain Rhodes. It . . . I love it.”
“I thought you would. Although it is hardly a substitute for the real thing.”
He had remembered the silly fancy she’d shared with him not long ago. Helen’s heart felt hot and tight. “It is a good deal easier to carry around in one’s pocket, I would think.”
He smiled, and she thought how handsome he looked with such a tender expression on his face.
“I am sorry that I do not have a gift for you, Capt—” Helen cut her words short when she saw Captain Rhodes gaze past her.
His eyes widened, and his face paled. With quick steps, he crossed the room to the flower arrangement. “Dhatura. Where did this come from?” He studied the flowers, then his gaze darted back to her. A crease had formed between his brows.
Helen thought he looked worried or frightened. What could possibly have made him so? “I—Lieutenant Bancroft sent the flowers.”
He nodded slowly. “My lady, I apologize. Dhatura flowers are . . . The Indian people believe them to be an evil omen.” He glanced at the arrangement. “I cannot believe the servants did not dispose of this immediately. They would certainly have noticed.”
Helen lowered her shoulders, feeling suddenly defensive. “The lieutenant was only being thoughtful. Surely he did not know.”
“No, I am certain he did not.” Captain Rhodes shook his head, and a portion of his pleasant expression returned. “Pardon me. My ayah—my nursemaid—instilled superstitions in me that are sometimes difficult to forget. I have no doubt the lieutenant sought only to bestow a beautiful gift.”
Helen smiled and lifted the elephant. “As did you, sir. And I thank you again for it.”
“You must think me silly with my irrational worries.”
“You are hardly silly. And as you know, I quite like learning about the native traditions.”
“I admire that about you, my lady.”
He held her gaze, and Helen’s breath caught at the intensity in his face. Just as she was beginning to think her cheeks would light into flames, Captain Rhodes blinked and took a step back. He cleared his throat and glanced at his pocket watch then snapped it shut. “If you will pardon me, my lady. I am sorry to cut our visit short, but I have a meeting with the general.”
“Yes. Of course. I did not mean to take up your time.” She was both relieved that the tension of the moment had ended and disappointed, though she could not for certain say why. She held the elephant in both hands as she curtsied.
“Talking with you is never a misuse of my time.” He inclined his head and started toward the door then glanced back. The softness had returned to his gaze, and the sight of it caused Helen’s heart to feel light. “I do not think the sound of your playing would be unwelcome as we discuss dull business matters, my lady. In fact, it should make the meeting nearly enjoyable.” He nodded once more and left the room.
Helen sat back onto the sofa and studied the beautiful figurine. She did not know what had come over her. Her erratic moods might be attributed to the relief she had felt at Captain Rhodes’s extraordinary kindness and unexpected apology. Yes, that is undoubtedly the case. She nodded to herself as she walked to the pianoforte. She called to a servant and requested that the flowers be disposed of. Then she set the elephant carefully on the instrument and, with a smile on her lips, started to play for Captain Rhodes.
***
It was just over an hour later when she noticed a servant enter and politely cough. She stopped her song and twisted on the bench. “Does my mother send for me?”
“The general, Miss-Sahib. He requests your presence in the library.”
Helen handed the elephant to the servant. “Please, will you place this in my bedchamber?”
He took the figurine and bowed before hurrying away.
Helen left the room, wondering why Jim had sent for her. Had he discovered another scorpion? Did he require her to make a special request to the cook for their supper? Had her mother taken a turn for the worse?
Jim and Captain Rhodes stood when she entered the library.
“You sent for me, sir?”
“Yes, Helen, please join us.” He gestured to a chair next to Captain Rhodes and then sat back down behind his desk, facing them. Helen saw piles of papers and a map spread out on the desk as if the two men had been discussing it. She wondered what any of it could have to do with her. She glanced to the captain, who nodded and then turned his gaze back to Jim.
Jim leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “Helen, nearly two weeks ago, we made arrangements to send a company on a diplomatic mission to the palace of Shah Ahsan Ali. He paused as if waiting for her acknowledgement.
Helen nodded, and he continued, “The group was to be made up of military commanders, heads of state, and their wives. But in light of . . . events with the Governor-General and your mother’s health, the party has dwindled. Captain Rhodes and I feel it would hurt relations if we were to cancel the visit, and if we delay, we shall run into the hot season and the rains will make the journey nearly impossible.”
Helen glanced between the men, still unsure why they were involving her in the discussion.
Captain Rhodes picked up the conversation. “Having women in the party gives the appearance of a friendly visit—not a military detachment marching in formation but a group of diplomats paying a call to another head of state. In India, such niceties are important to maintain relationships. Durbar is what the Indians call this type of visit, and it is simply a matter of showing respect to a neighboring dignitary. Not a formal event or procession.”
“But the matter is entirely up to you,” Jim said. “If you feel uncomfortable in the least, simply say the word, and we will discuss it no more.”
Helen looked from Jim to Captain Rhodes and then back. An excited fluttering was happening inside her ribs. “Are you asking if I will go to the Shah’s palace?”
“Yes.” Jim nodded.
“And who would accompany me?”
“I will, of course,” Jim said, “and the captain here and a few other officers. And of course, soldiers, for protection. Including servants, we shall not likely be more than thirty in our party.”
The fluttering grew more intense, and Helen could not help the grin that burst on her face. “Oh, I would love to see an Indian prince and a palace. Yes, please, may I go on the journey?” She clenched her hands in her lap to keep from clapping. “Thank you for—” Her heart plummeted as she thought of Lady Patricia. She felt herself sag but tried to maintain her composure so the men did not know. “But Mamá. I cannot leave her alone.” Helen’s throat clogged. It was a disappointment, to be sure, but other opportunities would arise.
“Utter nonsense!” Lady Patricia’s voice rang through the library.
The men rose to their feet, and Helen hurried to the doorway to help her mother to a chair. “Mamá, you should be resting.”
Lady Patricia gently lifted her arm from her daughter’s grasp. “I plan to see to my herb garden. A bit of fresh air and exer
cise will do more good for my recovery than lying around all day.” She moved to stand next to Jim but kept her gaze on Helen. “I am so grateful for your attention during my illness, but it is unnecessary any longer. I am a grown woman and perfectly capable of caring for myself for a few days. My fever is gone, and it is not as if I have never carried a baby before.”
Helen stifled a gasp at her mother’s indelicacy. She glanced at Captain Rhodes and saw that his face had gone red and he was looking with great interest at the map on Jim’s desk.
“Patricia, it should be Helen’s decision. I do not want her to regret—”
“I absolutely insist,” Lady Patricia interrupted. “Helen, you came to India to experience the world, not to care for your mother.
“But, Mamá—”
“Enough. I shall be just fine while you are gone, and you must tell me all about it when you return.” She smiled. “Every detail.”
“Thank you, Mamá.” The excited flutter started again.
Jim held his wife’s gaze for a moment before he offered Lady Patricia the chair behind the desk and stood next to her. He turned back to the map. “The terrain will be flat for the majority of the journey. In the interest of speed, we shall use packhorses instead of carts, and, Helen, I can arrange for a palanquin, or you will have to ride.”
“Of course I can ride,” she said. The idea of lounging in a box carried on men’s shoulders sounded dreadful. “I am a good horsewoman. I’ll not slow the group.”
She turned her head to see Captain Rhodes studying the map. He traced his finger along an invisible path. “If we can cover forty miles the first day, we should only have to camp for one night.” He looked up at her. “For a person who is unused to being on horseback for such a long time, forty miles can be quite . . . uncomfortable.”
“Do not worry. You shall not hear me complain once, Captain.”
Chapter 13
Two days later, the company departed well before dawn in order to get as many miles behind them as possible before the heat of the day. Helen didn’t mind rising so early. In fact, she’d hardly slept as she anticipated what awaited her—an expedition through the Indian countryside, a visit to an Eastern prince’s palace. Both equally terrified and thrilled her. Would she be able to endure the journey? Sita did not know how to ride a horse, and though Helen told Jim she did not mind traveling without a maid, she worried about sleeping alone. She had never slept out of doors. The thought of tigers or snakes coming into her tent at night tied her insides into a hard knot.
The knot loosened somewhat, and she allowed a shiver of anticipation to tingle over her skin as she thought of the Shah’s palace—the White Palace, Jim had told her. What would it be like? Helen had been to Saint James’s Court when she was presented in the Queen’s Drawing Room, but she did not imagine the White Palace would resemble the king’s at all. She had seen drawings of local maharajas sitting upon golden, jewel-encrusted thrones, wearing elaborate silk headpieces decorated with pearls and feathers. Were the representations accurate? Or simply fanciful? She couldn’t wait to find out.
Helen’s eyes began to adjust to the darkness, or perhaps the sky was lightening. She rode next to Jim, though only his outline was visible. The other men and horses were still merely shadows. Aside from the sound of horses and an occasional cough, the group remained silent.
Aside from the noises of their own party, Helen heard the creaks of wagons, the sounds of animals, and the hushed voices of other travelers. Occasionally she saw the glow of a fire beside the road and smelled the aroma of cooking food. Once, she even heard the sound of a pungi—the gourd-shaped instrument she’d seen in the bazaar—and shivered, imagining someone playing for a trained cobra in the dark. She shifted her position, stretching her back as well as she was able while she rode sidesaddle. She didn’t think she’d been on the horse for longer than a few hours, and already her spine felt stiff.
The sky gradually turned purple with streaks of gold, and Helen noticed a change in the company’s movement. She reigned in her horse, wondering at the disturbance, and looked back to discover what had caused it. It seemed some of the servants and sepoys at the rear of the party were dismounting and leading their horses from the road.
Jim stopped next to her. “Prayer for the Mohammedans. Come, we do not need to wait. They will catch us when we stop to water the horses.”
The sun burst into view on the company’s right side, and the road came to life. It seemed the light was a signal for travelers to call greetings to one another and urge their animals forward with yells. Camels plodded along the road with lazy-looking steps. Children ran among the parties, and men wearing bright turbans and loose clothing rode donkeys laden with large loads that looked as though they should cause the animals to topple over.
Helen saw camps on the sides of the road among the trees. Birds called, goats bleated, and monkeys chattered. Shrines with flowers and brightly painted deities stood along the road. She glanced back, hoping Lieutenant Bancroft was not in a hunting mood this morning. The colorful road with its noises and smells lifted Helen’s spirits, and she could not help smiling at the people they passed.
A group of women with sticks piled high on their heads walked in the other direction, somehow managing to converse while they balanced the cumbersome bundles. Other women walked barefoot, holding the silk fabric of their richly colored saris in front of their faces, covering all but their eyes. She noticed men away from the road kneeling on prayer rugs the way they had done at the mosque, and she wondered how they could possibly concentrate on their worship with all the noise and smells and dust surrounding them.
Captain Rhodes rode at the front of the company, and she wondered if he would turn around now that it was light enough to see one another. Would he meet her eye and smile? Would his face light up and his brow rise in a teasing expression? She planned the perfect expression to make in return. Would he motion for her to ride next to him? What would they talk about?
Her mind turned to the carved elephant that sat on her bedside table. The captain had known the perfect gift. Helen’s chest warmed as she remembered the softness in his face when he’d given it to her. She wondered if she’d have the opportunity to see that expression again.
Captain Rhodes didn’t look back, however, and Helen had to be content with noticing how straight he sat in the saddle. From her position, she thought he looked both alert and at ease as he rode. A true soldier. Just the sight of him scanning the road ahead left her feeling safe as they journeyed farther from the city.
Jim turned toward her. “What do you think of the Grand Trunk Road, Helen?”
Helen drew her eyes from Captain Rhodes, disappointed that he had not turned his head just a bit to meet her eye. “I have never seen such a wide road. And it is as busy as the marketplace in Calcutta, yet we are miles from the city.”
He nodded. “Remain close while the road is congested. Thieves and highwaymen hide among the crowds.”
Helen drew in a quick breath, darting her glance at the people around her. “But surely we are safe with all the soldiers.”
“Let us hope we don’t meet a band of Crim or Dacoit. They’ll have no qualms about slaughtering the lot of us and seizing the gifts for the Shah.” He spoke in a low tone, his eye squinting as he looked over her shoulder toward the jungle.
“Sir?” Helen’s mouth had gone dry. She glanced from side to side as they rode between the trees. The sounds of the birds took on a sinister tone, and the morning did not seem so bright. She wondered if Jim was truly worried or if something else bothered him. His jaw seemed unusually tight, and the lines around his eyes were deep. Perhaps he was remembering something unpleasant. “Does our journey remind you of a Spanish campaign, sir?”
He shrugged, and his lip curled the slightest bit. “The dust is the same, but it lacks the fear, the smell of death, the cold, the vultures picking apart men who—” Jim blinked and grimaced. “Pardon me, Helen. I am used to soldiers on a campaign, not young
ladies. I did not mean to speak so crudely.” His expression looked pained, as if he were attempting to smile but could not manage it. “I do not believe we are in any danger. It is just best to remain on guard.”
Helen nodded her head, unsure of how to respond. She had never known him to act so sullen, and she wondered what had brought this mood on. Oh, but of course. The reason came to her mind so suddenly that she was surprised she’d not realized it before. “You miss Mamá, don’t you, sir?”
Jim swallowed and nodded. He kept his gaze directly ahead. “More than I’d have imagined. ’Tis the first time we’ve been separated, and in her condition . . .” He cleared his throat again.
“I worry for her too, but she is strong. I wouldn’t be surprised if she is looking through her sketchbook at this very moment or pouring water over her herbs.” Helen smiled and leaned to the side to catch Jim’s gaze.
“Or comparing foul-smelling concoctions with the skinny hakim,” Jim said.
Helen’s smile grew. She was starting to recognize Jim’s crotchety manner as an attempt to disguise his deeper feelings. “I expect she is. She would be furious to know that we spent the journey worried about her.”
“Aye, and Patricia’s distemper is every bit as frightening as any danger India can produce.” His gaze remained soft, but his mouth turned up the smallest bit.
Helen laughed.
Jim’s smile grew. He studied her for a moment. “I am not used to campaigners attempting to keep my spirits up. Usually my experience has been very different.” He glanced forward. “Ah, Captain Rhodes has halted. Shall we have breakfast?”
Ahead was a grassy clearing among the trees. She thought it was probably near to fifty meters in each direction. Down a slight hill in the middle of the clearing flowed a stream. Helen dismounted, and a man took away her horse, binding its front legs loosely with a strip of cloth so it could feed and reach the water but not run away.
Lady Helen Finds Her Song Page 12