Madam Racine shrugged her shoulders in the classic Gallic gesture. “How can I refuse?”
Two hours later, India was fashionably and properly attired in a sprigged muslin morning dress complete with shawl, gloves, bonnet, stockings, shoes, and the usual assortment of undergarments.
Madam had been so enthralled by India’s Turkish costume that she’d agreed to alter two morning gowns she’d completed for another young lady to fit India, after India admired them. She had asked permission to study the cut of India’s caftan, declaring it the perfect design for an outer coat to be worn over an afternoon dress or evening gown, and she declared that with slight modifications to the basic design, the caftan would make a darling riding habit. India allowed the dressmaker to study the caftan to her heart’s delight and then stood perfectly still while Madam fitted and pinned and basted the morning dresses, an afternoon dress, and an extraordinary pale blu
e silk evening gown.
They shared coffee and pastries as India and Madam Racine concluded the fabric and pattern selections and Jonathan read the morning paper and nodded his approval of the selections or shook his head to disapprove.
When the dressmaker finished her measuring and the fitting of the gowns she’d promised to make, Jonathan paid for the garments India was wearing and the ones Madam was to make up and send to Lord Davies’s address as soon as possible.
“Lord Davies’s address?”
“Yes,” Jonathan confirmed. “Lady India will be staying there until her grandfather returns and we’re wed.”
“Wed?” Madam Racine was stunned. She’d been dressing Lord Barclay’s mother for years, and she’d listened while Lady Leticia despaired of her son ever submitting to the parson’s mousetrap.
Jonathan nodded. “You may wish us happy, madam, for I have asked Lady India to be my wife, and she has honored me by accepting.”
Lord Davies rushed into the sitting room of his Park Lane mansion as soon as his butler, Saunders, announced his unexpected callers as Lady India Burton and Lord Jonathan Barclay.
“India, my dear.” Lord Davies embraced her. “Thank God you’re safe . . . When Captain Marks told me the eunuch refused to leave, I didn’t quite know how to manage it.”
“You managed it exactly right,” India told him. “I cannot thank you enough for sending Lord Barclay to retrieve your parcel.”
Lord Davies frowned. “I didn’t send Lord Barclay.” He nodded at Jonathan. “And I only asked my son-in-law, Lord Grantham, to retrieve you because I couldn’t go myself. Not with my wife injured. . . .”
“Be glad that I offered to go in Colin’s stead,” Jonathan told him. “The eunuch did his best to kill me, despite the fact that I had a key to the cottage.”
“What?” Lord Davies was clearly shocked. “I had no idea. We paid the ransom. And Captain Marks explained the significance of the keys. . . .”
“It didn’t matter,” India told him. “Mustafa’s orders came from the sultan, and the sultan considered me his property until my grandfather or an emissary acting in his stead relieved him of his duty.”
“Lady India tried to convince the eunuch that I was an emissary sent from His Highness the prince regent and her grandfather.”
“And when that failed,” India resumed the narration, “Lord Barclay took matters into his own hands.”
“Tell me everything,” Lord Davies instructed.
“It’s a long story,” Jonathan warned.
“Then come in and make yourselves comfortable,” Lord Davies invited. “And tell me everything.”
“By now, Mustafa should be well on his way to your shipping line office in Dover,” Jonathan concluded when he and India had related the details of everything that had happened since India had arrived at Plum Cottage. “I don’t know where he’ll be bound,” Jonathan admitted, “but I told the workmen that I wanted him on the longest possible route to Istanbul.”
Lord Davies threw back his head and roared with laughter. “That will be by way of Australia. Provided, of course, that your cargo made it to the docks in time. The Lady of Botany Bay is scheduled to sail on tomorrow’s evening tide.”
“They made it,” Jonathan told him. “The men I hired are without fault. They’ve proven themselves on numerous occasions.”
“We’ll await confirmation from the captain nonetheless,” Lord Davies said. “Captain Owen has been with me from the beginning. He’s completely trustworthy, and he knows Lady India’s grandfather. He’ll send word as soon as he receives the cargo.” He clapped his hands together and stood up. “In the meantime, we’ll see that Lady India is comfortably settled into her room.” He walked over to the cord hanging near the door and rang for the butler. “Saunders, please show Lady India to her room. I’m sure she’s tired and would like to freshen up,” he instructed when the butler appeared.
India rose from her seat and followed the butler up the stairs.
“India,” Jonathan called.
India paused on the stair and turned to look at him.
“I’ll pick you up for nuncheon with my mother at two.”