Lady Helen Finds Her Song

by Jennifer Moore

  The appalling noises made by the predators as well as the prey rose from the ground below, and Michael hurried to close the screen. Though it did nothing to keep the sound out. Or the musky smell of wet cats and the tang of blood.

  “What is happening?”

  Michael spun around and saw Lady Helen standing in the doorway of her bedchamber. Her hair hung over one shoulder in a loose braid, and she clutched a silk shawl around her shoulders. To say she looked frightened was an understatement of immense magnitude.

  He started to move toward her, but Jim hurried past, and Michael remembered his place. Embracing Lady Helen while she wore her nightdress was not in the least appropriate. Just the idea started Michael’s heart pounding, and he kept his gaze toward the window in order not to glance down at her bare feet or to notice how errant locks of her hair curled around her cheeks and neck.

  “Do not worry,” the general was telling her as he patted her shoulder. “We are perfectly safe. The Shah is simply feeding his . . . pets.”

  “Why is he doing this? It is horrifying.” Helen’s voice shook, but it was much stronger than Michael would have imagined, based on the paleness of her face. “I thought the Shah was friendly. It seems as though he is deliberately trying to frighten us.”

  The general and Michael shared a glance. Lady Helen was very perceptive.

  “It is simply posturing, my dear,” the general said. “You should go back to bed.”

  Lady Helen glanced at the window. The sounds had not fully quieted, and even the rain could not drown out the loudest of them. Occasionally a tiger would growl or make a chuffing sound, and even worse was the intermittent goat’s panicked bleat. She looked between the general and Jim. “Please, can I remain here with you? Just for a short while?”

  Her expression was so vulnerable, with wide eyes afraid and pleading, that Michael balled his fists to keep himself from rushing to her.

  “Of course.” General Stackhouse led her to a chair in the sitting area and motioned with a bend of his head for Michael to join them.

  Once Michael was seated, the general leaned forward again, keeping his voice low. “Intimidating display.” His eyes darted to the window. “But he’s chosen to offend the wrong people.”

  Michael nodded. It was true. With just an order, the general could mobilize an entire army, and few came out on top when they challenged the Crown. “It is a pathetic display from a person who has no real power,” he said. “Rather like a child playing cruel jokes on the stronger children he envies.”

  Though he did not allow his gaze to move toward her, Michael was completely aware that Lady Helen had pulled her feet up onto the chair and scooted down to lay her head on the armrest.

  Jim stood and paced back and forth, no longer keeping his voice low. “I hate feeling like a prisoner. There is only one path in or out of this blasted valley. We are without weapons, and I doubt any of us could find our way out of this palace. If we did, we not only have tigers to deal with but the Shah’s armies and a city that’s like a maze. Not to mention the wide-open farmland and the heavily guarded pass awaiting us. We’re in a highly vulnerable situation here, and the Shah knows it.”

  Michael blew out a breath. “He knows it. But his situation is the more vulnerable.”

  “True.” Jim sank back into the chair. “What is our strategy for meeting the prince tomorrow?”

  “We refuse to act at all intimidated and do what we came here for: present gifts, share wishes for his health and a friendly relationship between our nations, then get out. The quicker, the better,” Michael said. “With any luck, we will be through the pass and far from this place before nightfall.”

  “Good plan,” Jim said.

  They continued the discussion for nearly half an hour longer. Michael knew the instant Lady Helen fell asleep by the sound of her breath deepening. He fought the entire time to concentrate on the general’s words and ignore the sighs that escaped her lips. Forcing himself not to glance over when her arm dropped was a feat of unparalleled willpower that would impress a fakir holy man who fasted weeks at a time.

  Finally the general declared that he would retire. He rose, and Michael followed suit.

  “Good night, Captain. If you don’t mind letting yourself out, I’ll see Helen gets to her bedchamber.”

  “Of course.”

  General Stackhouse helped Lady Helen to her feet.

  “Jim?” Her voice was soft and sleepy.

  “Come, Helen. You can sleep in your bed now. All is silent.” He slid an arm around her and helped her toward her room.

  She rested her head on his shoulder as she walked. “Is Captain Rhodes still here, Jim?” Her speech was slurred.

  Michael’s hand froze in the air as he reached for the door handle.

  “I feel so safe when he is near.”

  “Of course you do,” Jim soothed.

  Michael hurried out into the hall and pulled the door closed behind him. He didn’t believe that any words in any language or context could have the impact her drowsy statement had on him. He thought his heart might explode from his chest, and he quickened his pace in case the general should call him back. He knew he would not be able to control the grin that was so large it hurt his cheeks—even for his commanding officer.

  Chapter 17

  Helen awoke to sunlight streaming through a carved wooden screen onto the silk bedding surrounding her. The bedchamber was much more beautiful in the sunlight. She studied a painting that hung near her bed—an array of bold colors in a geometric design. A perfect symbol of India: color. She had never seen such vivid hues, and they were everywhere: clothing, plants—even the peacock they’d seen yesterday was bright and colorful.

  Her eyes moved to the garland lying on a table near her bed. The fragrance was still strong, and she smiled at the memory of Jim wearing a necklace of flowers. He had removed the garland with a look of long-suffering the moment they’d entered their suite the night before. Apparently floral decorations were not his choice of accessories.

  A servant entered and helped her dress in the gown she’d chosen to wear to meet the Shah. Helen loved the creamy yellow color and the lace trim around the neck and sleeves. Embroidered flowers in green and pink flowed down the sides like vines. Helen attached a simple necklace of coral beads and slipped a long silk shawl over her arms, allowing it to trail behind her. She did not wear a bonnet, so the servant helped pin curls loosely on Helen’s head, and she pulled on long gloves that reached past her elbows. She emerged from her room a few moments later and found Jim seated at the dining table.

  He stood when she entered. “Good morning. I hope you slept well.”

  “I did, sir. After the . . . excitement . . . was finished.”

  “And how do you feel?”

  “Nervous.” She sat at the table across from him. “What do you think the Shah is like?”

  “I cannot begin to guess. But something I’ve learned is that no matter their station or importance, beneath it all, men are just that—men.”

  Helen accepted a dish of fruit a servant offered. “Dhanyavaad,” she muttered then smiled at Jim’s surprised expression. She lifted her shoulders in a shrug, and he turned the edges of his lips downward as he nodded. Helen wondered if Captain Rhodes would be impressed that she had remembered the word.

  She thought of the captain and their interactions over the journey: watching the peacock, worrying about her near the stream, riding next to her and sharing stories, holding her hand when she was afraid. Being with Captain Rhodes felt more comfortable than being without him, and she pondered over the fact that she missed his company even though it had been only a few hours ago that they’d eaten supper together. It was a comfort to know that she’d see him again when they met with the Shah.

  Her mind returned to the upcoming meeting, and she thought about what Jim had said. The Shah was a man, just like any other. She should not harbor ill feelings toward him for frightening her the day before. Perhaps he had only want
ed to show off his beautiful animals, not knowing it would be upsetting to a British lady. Since she did not fully understand the customs of these people, she could not expect that he would fully understand hers, and she should approach this meeting with an open mind.

  Glancing around the room, she nodded. Yes. She was in a magnificent palace and had the opportunity to meet an Indian prince. The experience was one most people would never know, and she resolved to enjoy herself and to learn everything she could about the Shah. With the sun shining, it was difficult to feel anything but cheerful.

  ***

  Not long after breakfast, the prince sent a servant to summon them for an audience. Jim and Helen followed him through passageways and beautiful gardens until they arrived at a large courtyard where the rest of their company awaited them.

  The minister from the day before entered the courtyard accompanied by another man. The stranger’s clothing was much finer than his companion’s, and Helen thought he must be more important. Perhaps he was the Shah? Both bowed a greeting, and the minister introduced the other as the Shah’s diwan, or prime minister.

  The diwan spoke for a moment, and the minister translated in his high-pitched voice. “He is very sorry to have been unavailable to greet you when you arrived yesterday. An error, I’m afraid. His secretary confused the day of your arrival, but the person responsible has been suitably punished.”

  “Completely understandable,” Jim said. “No offense taken.”

  Helen darted a glance at Captain Rhodes and saw that his face remained impassive. The light-gray of his eyes had taken on a darker hue that reminded Helen of storm clouds. She didn’t think he believed the diwan’s flimsy excuse in the least.

  The diwan spoke again, spreading his hand to the side.

  “His Majesty, Shah Ahsan Ali, awaits you in the Hall of Public Audience. Please follow me.”

  As they entered the antechamber, Helen saw columns running along both sides, leaving the hall open to the outside and allowing a breeze to move through the vast space.

  Servants and soldiers mingled throughout the room, many wearing the same black turban Helen had seen on the soldier the day before. Other people Helen thought were courtiers wore a mixture of bright-colored clothing, though she noticed no women present. The people in the chamber stood aside and watched with unreadable faces as the British group made their way across the marble floor along a carpeted pathway lined with soldiers to the far end of the room.

  Steps led up to a platform where servants waved fans of peacock feathers and more soldiers stood serving as guards for the man who sat cross-legged on a raised cushioned dais. The Shah.

  Trying not to appear as if she was staring, Helen studied Shah Ahsan Ali. He was close to Jim’s age, she thought. His skin was much fairer than any Indian’s she had seen thus far. A pointy mustache curled beneath his nose, looking too small for his face and a bit comical. Helen was reminded of her sisters making similar mustaches with curls that had fallen to the floor after her brother’s hair had been cut. The Shah’s clothing was elegant: Flowing silk made up his trousers and shirt, and he wore a long embroidered vest. His turban was decorated with a cluster of jewels from which rose long feathers. Gemstone rings adorned every finger. Even his slippers were decorated with pearls.

  Helen followed Jim’s and Captain Rhodes’s lead; she curtsied when the men bowed.

  The diwan and his interpreter stepped up onto the platform. “Brigadier-General Jim Stackhouse,” the minister said to the Shah.

  “Your Highness, it is indeed an honor.” Jim stepped forward. “I thank you for your excellent hospitality in this magnificent palace. I bring greetings of Lord Minto, who regrets that he could not accompany us himself.” He spread his arm to the side. “This is my second-in-command, Captain Michael Rhodes, and my daughter, Lady Helen.”

  The interpreter spoke to the Shah, but he did not seem to be listening. Helen wanted to shy away when she realized the Shah’s gaze was firmly settled on her. He held up his hand, and the room fell immediately silent. He continued to watch Helen as he spoke in a quiet voice to the interpreter.

  The man replied, and Helen heard her name. She glanced at Captain Rhodes and saw his jaw was clenched.

  The minister stepped to the edge of the platform. “Please, General Stackhouse, His Highness asks if he may speak to your daughter.”

  Jim cleared his throat and moved his gaze between the Shah and Helen and then to Captain Rhodes. “What does—”

  The Shah spoke again, cutting him off.

  “You, of course, will remain with her, General.”

  Jim looked to Helen, and she nodded permission, her curiosity overcoming any trepidation. Why would the Shah wish to speak to her?

  Shah Ahsan Ali motioned for Helen to step up onto the platform. Jim stayed close behind.

  “I have never seen eyes this color. They are extraordinary,” the Shah said through the interpreter.

  The Shah said something else, but the interpreter did not expound.

  “Thank you, Your Highness. Dhanyavaad.”

  The Shah smiled when she used the word, but his eyes remained thoughtful.

  Helen was surprised, and a little shocked, to see that his red-tinged teeth did not look at all healthy, and now that she was closer she noticed his skin was a bit yellow. She hoped the Shah was not unwell.

  “Do you like the palace, Lady Helen?” the interpreter asked for the Shah.

  “Yes, very much.” Helen’s palms were damp, and she could feel them sticking to her gloves as she struggled to find words to say. She thought repeating Jim’s compliments was a wise course of action. “The palace is more beautiful than I could have imagined. Thank you for allowing our visit. It is quite a privilege.”

  The Shah listened to the minister translate and then studied Helen again. “I rarely have women in my court. It is strange to me that your father would allow you to travel with a band of men who are not relatives. Our women are considered precious and are kept hidden from the eyes of other men.” He waved his hand to the carved screens that lined the upper story of the wall behind him.

  Helen raised her eyes and saw movement behind the carved wood. She realized the screens were in place to insure the women’s privacy as they watched the proceedings in the chamber below. She looked back to the Shah.

  “Do you think this custom strange?” he asked.

  Helen considered for a moment before she answered. The Shah appeared to be testing her. Did he think his words might offend her? She did not feel as though Jim considered her less precious just because he did not keep her hidden behind a screen. The thought surprised her. She had not realized how much she had come to love Jim and felt his love for her in return.

  The Shah’s statement had not made her feel insulted but interested. “Not strange, Your Highness. Different. I enjoy learning about such customs. And I find it extremely admirable that you hold women in such high regard.”

  A sound like a cough drew the Shah’s gaze toward the British soldiers, but he returned it to Helen as he listened to the interpreter. He studied her for a moment longer, and Helen thought there was perhaps nothing more uncomfortable than standing on a platform in a room of silent men while being stared at. She felt self-conscious and did not know what to do with her hands, so she clasped them behind her back.

  “I wonder . . . would you like to visit the women’s section of the palace?”

  Both the Shah and the interpreter watched her expectantly.

  Helen looked at Jim, wondering how to possibly answer such a proposal.

  “It is your choice, Helen,” he said through tight lips. “You do not have to go anywhere.”

  She glanced at Captain Rhodes and saw that his eyes had darkened further to nearly the color of charcoal. She raised her brows in question, and he gave her a tight nod. Even though he looked angry, she took his gesture to mean she would be safe to accept the offer.

  The decision was up to her, and Helen felt nervous with the weight of it.
She was curious about the palace, and the idea of seeing more of it—perhaps seeing the queen—was nearly too tempting to pass up. But she remembered the tigers from the night before and did not know if she could fully trust the Shah. Before she could answer, she heard her mother’s voice in her head. Helen, you came to India to experience the world. Was she brave enough to do just that?

  Helen turned back to the Shah. His expression had taken on a hint of impatience, and she realized he was not often in the position of waiting for others to make up their minds. “Thank you for your gracious offer, Your Highness. I would enjoy it very much.”

  Helen did not know what to expect as she followed a servant through the crowd of people. It was frightening to leave the security of her group. She glanced back once to see Captain Rhodes watching her. She gave him a smile, and he tipped his head slightly. His face did not have any of his cheerfulness or teasing, and the sight of him looking so solemn cast a shadow over her mood.

  The servant brought her to the bottom of a flight of steps where a female servant waited to accompany Helen upstairs. When they reached the upper landing, Helen was startled and a bit unnerved to find the most enormous men she’d ever seen standing guard on either side of a heavy door. The men looked strange. Though they were well-muscled with broad shoulders, something about their mannerisms seemed nearly feminine—perhaps their hairless faces.

  They both studied Helen as the servant spoke to them. One man produced a key and opened the door, and Helen followed the woman inside. The sound of the thick wooden door closing sent a feeling of dread over her, and Helen looked back, wondering if it was too late to run back to the safety of Captain Rhodes.