India gave him a speculative glance, then turned and began to pace the confines of the small kitchen. “Did you know that the Admiralty and the Foreign Office wish to host a series of balls in my honor when I return?”
“No, I did not.”
“Will you attend?”
Jonathan drew in a deep breath. “I don’t generally move in Admiralty or Foreign Office circles.”
“Would you attend if I invited you?”
“Lady India . . .” When she looked at him with those big, blue eyes, Jonathan found her almost impossible to resist.
“I don’t know anyone in London except you.”
“You’ll meet plenty of other people at the Admiralty Ball,” he said.
India nodded. “Yes, I’m sure I’ll meet plenty of people at the Admiralty who wish to use me for their own purposes.” She stared at Jonathan. “People who want to hail my return as a diplomatic triumph and trot me out and show me off at every opportunity.”
“You don’t know that—” he began.
“Yes, I do,” she answered. “That’s one of the reasons my grandfather asked to borrow Plum Cottage and sent The Bengal Princess to fetch me. Captain Marks gave me a letter from my grandfather. In it Grandfather explained that he couldn’t fetch me in person without alerting the Admiralty and the Foreign Office, and he didn’t want to alert the Admiralty or the Foreign Office because he didn’t want my homecoming to become . . .”
“A political circus,” Jonathan concluded.
Lady India nodded. “A political frenzy was the term Grandfather used.”
“That was good of him,” Jonathan replied, heartened by the news that her grandfather hadn’t ransomed her from the sultan in order to throw her to the wolves. “Your grandfather seems like a fine man, one who has your best interests at heart. He must love you very much.”
“I hope so,” India said, “for I’ve caused him a great deal of bother and cost him an enormous amount of money.”
“The fact that he was willing to pay it should tell you something.”
“I don’t know him very well,” she admitted. “But I know that he always does his duty. Whether he ransomed me because he loves me or because he was duty bound to do so remains to be seen.” She turned to Lord Barclay. “You were right, you know.”
“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow in query.
“I’m not really English through and through. I was born in Calcutta.”
“I know,” he said.
She frowned. “You could tell that from my voice?”
He smiled at her and shook his head. “No, I read it in the newspapers after the Portsmouth . . .”
“Newspapers,” Lady India mused sadly. “Imagine that. I forgot about newspapers or that there are places in the world where people are allowed to read them.” She was quiet for a moment, then pinned him with her gaze. “Did you also know that I came to London from my home in Calcutta because my parents and grandparents wanted me to be presented at court like every proper English lady?”
“No,” he answered. “I didn’t know that.”
“I left India in the summer, but it was cold when I arrived in London to live with my grandparents. Cold and dark and damp.” She stopped to trace her finger along the back of one of the kitchen chairs and looked at Jonathan. “And I hated it. I longed for Mama and Papa and home. I longed for home so badly that I made myself physically ill. My grandmother took pity on me and asked my grandfather to arrange passage for me back home. My governess, Miss Lockwood, elected to accompany me.” India paused. “She could have remained in London. Grandfather would have hired someone to accompany me back home, but Miss Lockwood had no family, and she said that all my wonderful tales of India had filled her with a burning desire to see it.” She took a deep breath, swallowed hard, and toyed with a lock of her long, dark hair, winding and unwinding it around her finger. “Grandmother and Grandfather had engaged her services shortly before I arrived. I knew her less than half a year, but we became very close. So close that she wouldn’t hear of sending me home alone. Besides, she said, she wanted to see the elephants parading through the streets on festival days all decked out in their bells and finery, and she wanted to see the huge temples, the fakirs, and all the tropical flowers. It was all arranged. Miss Lockwood would accompany me on my visit to see my parents in India, and then we’d return to London in a year to continue my English education and my preparation for presentation at court. My grandmother assured me that she loved me enough to grant me another year to become accustomed to the idea of life in England, and she was sure that Miss Lockwood would ease the pang of homesickness when we returned. Miss Lockwood promised my grandmother that she would prepare me so well that my London season would be a resounding success, and every gentleman with whom I danced would want to marry me. It was such a lovely dream.” She bit her bottom lip and blinked back tears. “Miss Lockwood made a London season sound so wonderful. It was, she said, the most exciting time in her life, even if she had only had the one season. Even if she had failed to garner any proposals. She had still gotten to dance and had been partnered by the scions of some of England’s greatest families. She loved to dance, and she had saved every dance card. She showed them to me and shared the family history of nearly every gentleman with whom she’d danced. And she taught me all the dances. We practiced for hours and hours every Friday, so that when I made my curtsy, everyone would name me the most elegant dancer in London. That was Miss Lockwood’s dream for me. She wanted me to be the most elegant dancer in London so I might marry a handsome and wealthy young gentleman and have lots of children she could teach—” India took a deep breath and glanced down at her feet. “But now, I shan’t make my curtsy or be presented at court or dance in the moonlight when I return to London. I won’t be able to keep my promise to Miss Lockwood.”
“Why not?” Jonathan asked the question without thinking and could have bitten out his tongue when she answered.
“You know as well as I do, Lord Barclay, that disgraced ladies cannot be presented at court. And I have definitely been disgraced. My reputation and my good name have been ruined.”
“Through no fault of your own,” Jonathan pointed out.
She shrugged her shoulders. “It makes no difference. The fact is that my chances of making a good match are gone—especially since my grandfather was forced to pay a fortune to ransom me. With my dowry in jeopardy, what gentleman would choose to take me to wife?” She looked Jonathan in the eye. “I lost my reputation when a Turkish sultan purchased me from a band of murderous pirates, took my virtue, and confined me to his harem. But there are no exceptions. It doesn’t matter why I lost my virtue or how I lost it. The only thing that matters to the court and to proper English society is that I’m no longer a fresh, young maiden, and everyone in London knows it.” She lifted her chin a notch higher. “No doubt they read all about it in the newspapers.”
“Not everyone,” Jonathan said, attempting to lighten her mood. “There must be quite a few eligible gentlemen ignorant of your past. Because there are lots of gentlemen in London who’ve never read a newspaper or anything else.”