The Sandalwood Princess

“Who is it, then, I’d like to know?” she answered pertly.

“What’re you doin’ here?” he asked.

Bella pointed to a corner where an auburn-haired woman of middle age dined with a grey-haired fellow in captain’s garb. “Cap n Blayton wrote her he was coming, and she took me along to meet him. Weren’t proper, she said, for a lady to come alone. I don’t think she’ll be a widow much longer,” the maid confided in lower tones.

“But you here still, and your mistress gone? Why ain’t you with her?”

“I had enough of them heathens,” Bella said firmly. “Anyways, that little Jane was just begging to go, though what good she’ll do my poor Miss Amanda, I couldn’t say. That child don’t know a comb from a coal scuttle. But she learns quick enough, and she’ll do on the ship, I expect, and there’ll be plenty of proper maids in Calcutta. Mr. Roderick—that is, his lordship—he’ll see to it. And if he don’t, why that wicked old woman—”

“Ah, my lass, never mind ‘em,” said Jessup as he took her hand and pressed it to his cheek. “Only come sit by me, do, and let me look in them snappin’ black eyes o’ young, sweetheart. I missed you somethin’ fierce, I did.”

***

Lord Felkoner was arguing heatedly with an exhausted sea captain when another gentleman noiselessly entered the shipping office.

“I’ll pay you double. Triple,” the viscount shouted. “I’ll buy the damned ship.”

“My lord, it isn’t mine to sell,” the captain said patiently. “Besides, we’ve only just come. The cargo’s not unloaded.”

“If you please, there are several other—”

“They’ve all just come, dammit. Isn’t there one curst vessel –”

“Felkoner,” a quiet, firm voice interrupted.

Philip turned. “My lord,” he said stiffly.

“Another voyage East, I take it? Calcutta perhaps?”

“It’s none of your damned business, my lord.”

“I’m afraid it is,” his lordship answered. He nodded towards the door. “Come along, my boy.”

Philip’s eves blazed and his posture grew rigid. I’m not your damned boy, my lord. Furthermore—”

“Oh, be quiet, Felkoner. And do mind your language. You set a bad example for the seamen. Now come along.”

“I’m not your hired help any longer. Find someone else—” A pistol flashed into view and Philip’s sentence dangled unfinished.

“My lord,” the alarmed captain began.

“Now you just look out the window, captain,” Lord Hedgrave politely suggested. “You are an intelligent fellow. You’ve seen and heard nothing.”

He gestured at the door with the pistol and Philip obediently moved in that direction.

“Don’t try anything foolish, my lad,” the marquess softly advised. “There’s not a trick you know I didn’t learn years ago, while you were still crawling about in skirts.” He paused briefly before adding, “Though for the life of me I couldn’t say which of us is the greater fool.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Two sari-clad women stood at the carved vetiver entryway. In the moonlight, the garden was a wonderland of silver and shadow. The flowers’ voluptuous fragrance drifted to them on a light, warm breeze.

“Anumati’s night,” said the rani. “The time is fitting to unfold my tale.”

“You’ve kept me waiting long enough,” Amanda said. “Nearly a month. I’ve been here.”

“Nearly a month here, five months upon the ship, and still you weep.” The rani turned away from the entry. “We must find a lover to dry your tears.”

“I have had quite enough of love, thank you.” Amanda followed the princess back into the chamber. “It offers precious little rapture to compensate for the madness.”

“That is because you did not take him into your bed,” the rani calmly returned. “But it is useless to speak to you of these matters. You have confused notions of sin.”

As they sank onto the cushions, the princess signaled to a servant, who brought in the hookah. With another signal, all the servants vanished.

The two cousins smoked quietly for a while, the only sound in the room the bubble of the pipe.

“I lied to you,” the rani said at last. “I am an excellent liar. The skill has many times saved my life. At other times, it brought me what I wanted. Tonight, however, I shall try not to lie very much.”

Amanda laughed. “Why, thank you, Mother.”

“Ah, I am a dreadful mother, but it cannot be helped,” the princess said with a shrug. “Here is some truth: My husband gave Richard Whitestone the pearl in reward for taking me away. It is true the Englishman later abandoned me. I only failed to mention that I pursued him to Bombay. There, through means I will not tire you by describing, Padji and I tricked him and stole the pearl. My lover did not discover the theft until he was well upon the sea.”

“You stole it for revenge. That’s understandable.”

The Indian woman nodded. “He loved me. He had not intended this, but it happened. This I know, just as I know he would have remained with me, but for an accident of Fate. He was the youngest of four sons. Shortly before he fulfilled his bargain with my husband, my English lover learned a fire had consumed his family home, and killed all his near kin at once. Thus he gained a great tide he’d never dreamed would be his.”

‘“Now I understand,” Amanda said, her voice tinged with bitterness. “That’s why he left you. He’d not want a pack of half-breeds to carry on his illustrious name.”

“Certainly he would not. You saw how your mother was treated—and she merely a part Indian. I understood his reasons and saw his wisdom. Nonetheless, all his reasons and wisdom were blindness and folly. He married a noble English lady and they lived, loveless, as other noble couples do. I learned of it and rejoiced, just as I rejoiced when their union bore no fruit. No sons, no daughters. Richard Whitestone threw away a great love... and ended with nothing.”

“That,” said Amanda, “is just as he deserves.”

“So I reminded him. I made the pearl the symbol of his folly. Each year, on the anniversary of the theft, he received a letter from me. I taunted him cruelly. He is stubborn, proud, and hot-tempered. To provoke him has never been difficult.”

“No wonder he became so obsessed with the pearl.”

Amanda gazed thoughtfully at the mouthpiece in her hand. “Yet it wasn’t the pearl he wanted, was it?”

“No, but to believe so was far less humiliating to such a man than to admit the truth.”

Amanda looked up to meet the rani’s dark, liquid gaze. “Why did you give it to me?” she asked.

Her cousin sighed. “A complicated story. Lord Hedgrave has agents throughout India. For years, however, I found it easy enough to remain inaccessible. I waited until his wife was dead. Then I came to Calcutta, and awaited the approach of his pawns. Naturally, their clumsy attempts failed. To behold the Lioness is not to capture her. Eventually, I thought, the marquess must come himself, as I’d countless times dared him to do.”

“But he didn’t. He sent the—that thief.”

“When I first came to Calcutta, the Falcon was unknown. Within a few short years, all India spoke of him. By that time, I had met you, and discovered a heart like mine beat in your breast. Like mine,” the rani added with a smile, “were my heart not quite so black with sin. A lioness lives within you, nonetheless.”

“I’m no lioness. I haven’t a fraction of your wisdom or experience. Why give it to me?” Amanda demanded. “You knew how naive I was—and how unscrupulous he was. You were a match for him. I wasn’t. Didn’t you care what happened to me? Did you want Hedgrave to get the pearl?”

The princess reached out to take Amanda’s hand. “I knew you would never let him have it,” she said quietly. “Never. You know that as well, Amanda.”

“I don’t know anything like it, and I can’t believe you could be so reckless as to rely on me. You didn’t have to. You could have relied on yo

urself. Why did you have to make a perfectly simple matter so devilish complicated?” Amanda disengaged her hand and took up her neglected pipe. “This is no explanation at all,” she grumbled. “I might have expected it.” She inhaled deeply of the lightly scented smoke.

“There is more,” said her cousin imperturbably. “I shall—” She stopped and listened. “Someone comes.”

Amanda, too, heard footsteps in the hall beyond. She looked up.

Padji’s immense form filled the doorway. “If you please, mistress,” he said with every appearance of disgust. “Visitors.”

Amanda tensed. “Roderick,” she whispered. “He’s found out I’m here.”

The rani shook her head. “At this late hour?” she answered Padji reprovingly. “Send them away.”

Amanda relaxed and brought the comforting pipe to her mouth again.

Padji did not move.

“If you please, mistress, they are mad,” he said. “One holds a knife to my back. The other a pistol.”