Flowers in the Blood (51 page)

“I plan an intermingling of East and West, a blending of comfort and utility.”

“Do I understand you are planning on acquiring thousands of pieces of furniture which will be of enormous value and require transportation from a vast distance?” Edwin asked slowly.

“Yes, Winner, but ships sail to these shores every day.”

“What sorts of ships, L.B.? Vessels carrying oils and spices and cannonballs will hardly transport your precious cargo safely. What you require is a special boat with padded compartments to handle delicate objects in violent seas.”

“Then I shall have something built to my specifications.”

“That could take years, but one could be refitted—if the right ship could be found.”

“You know more about these matters than I. What do you think?”

“I see no difficulty, provided you could find an owner willing to do the modifications. It might take several passages to transport your furnishings, then afterward it could be reconverted for more ordinary cargo.”

I felt as if I were inside Edwin's mind as he laid the groundwork for the offer I expected would come. In a few minutes, after a discussion of how to locate the furniture and whom he might send to Europe to do the buying, he did not disappoint me. “You may not have realized this, Amar, but I was considering entering the shipping business in Cochin. Dinah and I have already discussed establishing a regular ferry service between Ernakulam and Cochin and the islands.”

The maharajah hopped about in his excitement. “Then you are the man for this enterprise, aren't you?”

“Perhaps. I must consider what sort of investment to make and how I can reuse the holds to transport spices and fine woods to Europe and then return with your order. After meeting your requirements, I could locate commodities to import for the Indian market.”

“A ferryboat might be too small for the task.”

“Our capital should finance a cargo ship, and a firm order that would ensure profitability from the start would convince me to make the investment.”

I hardly dared glance at my husband, but finally did so surreptitiously. His eyes were gleaming, his hands gesturing happily as he and the maharajah deliberated the venture. This is what we both had been waiting for. For the first time since we had left Calcutta, I no longer felt Edwin was drifting aimlessly. At last he had something to occupy his mind, a purpose to pursue. Even if this meant we would remain in Travancore for quite some time, I looked at the prospect with fresh eyes. I should have believed him from the first, I reminded myself as I basked in the glow of his enthusiasm.

35

 

A
ll I had been waiting for was happening. Edwin was stirred to a fiery heat as he contemplated owning a great ship. After the maharajah's furnishings arrived, we would not be bound to live in Trivandrum. In fact, since the capital of Travancore was not a decent port, Cochin was a more likely base. Despite the splendor of the Orchid House, the waterside cottage where we had spent so few nights alone was the place where I dreamed of returning, and all that seemed within my grasp. Even so, at the moment I could not see beyond the fact that Edwin was planning to leave me in Trivandrum while he went to search for a ship.

Edwin, who could have chided me for my shortsightedness, held me close as we lay among the cushions on our wide, low bed. “I shall not stay away any longer than necessary.”

“How much time will it take to find a ship?” I asked, trembling.

His eyes gleamed with expectation. “I can't say.”

“Why can't I come with you?”

“You could, as far as Cochin. I am certain it would please Mother to have you.”

“To fetch and carry and listen to her complaints.”

“Where else could you go?”

“The cottage.”

“It would be unseemly for you to stay there alone.”

“Why can't I accompany you to Bombay?”

“The shipyards are no place for a woman, you know that, and I could not do the job properly if I had to worry about your welfare.” He kept stroking my neck as he spoke. “I would have to be out at all hours. By spending the evenings with merchants and traders, I might gather an inside tip. A distressed situation, an anxious seller, that is what I am after.” He punctuated his last words with a kiss at the nape and muttered, “Nothing better than an inside tip.”

“How soon?”

“Not for several weeks. Professor P. must first complete his lists and calculations. Until we know how many cubic feet of space the furniture will take in the holds, I cannot leave.”

A pain, like a weight crushing my chest, caused my breath to come in short bursts. “I cannot let you . . . I will not . . .” I choked. Tears streamed from my eyes.

“What are you afraid of?”

I nestled against him and wept. “Since our marriage, we have hardly been apart for more than an hour . . . and you once said we would manage our lives side by side.”

He stared into my eyes with vast tenderness. “And so we shall. This will be the briefest of interludes. I will work night and day and rush back as soon as I have located something.”

“Do you think you will find a ship in Bombay?” I asked in a steadier voice.

“The chances are excellent. I might be lucky enough to locate something in Cochin.” His voice dropped. “At worst, I might have to go to Singapore.”

“That could take months!”

He placed his finger on my lips. “I doubt that will be necessary, but I wanted to prepare you. I would never hide anything from you, my darling Dinah.” His eyes glistened when he saw he could not console me. He turned away to compose himself in a movement that gave me pause.

I reached out and touched his arm. “Edwin. Just think, a ship of our own.”

He flexed his arms. “I hope I shall find something we can afford. Fifty thousand won't exactly buy the
Great Eastern.
”

“What will it buy?”

“Something serviceable that should not require too much overhaul belowdecks.”

“Do you plan to spend it all?”

“Not if I can help it, although we don't want a tub of rust, do we?”

“Do you really think it will be profitable?”

“Who are some of the richest men around? Shipowners. There must be a reason. Besides, how many start with a commission that pays for the entire first voyage? With that advantage, our profits should tumble in. With them we shall buy another boat.” Contentedly he sank back on the pillows. “Wouldn't a fleet of three . . . or even four . . . be fine?”

I sensed he was imagining himself striding the deck of one of his ships, shaking hands with the captain, examining his crew as they lined up for inspection. I saw myself at his side in a white dress and wide-brimmed hat. The harbor in the background was Calcutta, and on the quay marveling at the gleaming ship were Aunt Bellore and Cousin Sultana, Zilpah and my father, my brothers, Ruby—

A knock on the door disturbed my reverie. Hanif brought in a silver tray with glasses of lemonade, water biscuits, and a letter from the palace.

“What does he want from us now?” I wondered peevishly.

Edwin broke the seal. “He has asked me to visit this evening.”

“Am I not invited?”

“Not this time.”

I felt both solace and disappointment. While I had no desire to see Amar, I did not want Edwin to either. But was that fair? I had pushed my husband into actively pursuing a profession, and now that he was doing my bidding, I wanted him to remain by my side.

“Do you have to go?”

“ We
are
his guests, Dinah.”

“I know. We are his marionettes, who must jump when he pulls our strings.”

“There are strings everywhere. A child is controlled by his parents; a worker is managed by his employer. What is the difference?”

“I suppose you are right,” I said sweetly, even though I did not want him to agree to do whatever Amar wanted. “What does he have planned?”

“He probably just wants to talk or play chess.”

“I play chess.”

“Do you? Who taught you, your father? I bet he's a pukka player.”

Thinking it better not to mention Silas, I said, “An old friend taught me, but I am not very good.”

Edwin stood and stretched. “Neither am I, at least not compared to Amar. With his mathematical mind, he's a wizard.” He went to the, basin and began to wash.

Wizard. What an odd term, I thought to myself. In some ways, though, it was apt. There was cunning behind Amar's lambent eyes. And a razor-sharp mind underneath his sloppy speech. Again I sensed there was something else—something odd and mercurial that frightened me. Ever since I had met him only minutes after my marriage in Cochin, he had seemed too friendly. Anytime he came close enough to me for even our clothing to touch, I felt annoyed. I had never voiced these feelings to my husband, for it was wrong to make a man choose between a friend and a spouse. Nevertheless, when Edwin went away, Amar would be the maharajah with supreme power over his dominion and I would be his beholden guest. Absurd as it was to think he would ever do anything to harm his friend's wife, I suspected he was not beyond using me to amuse himself. I hated the name “Sassy” and now I was stuck with it. His protestations that he only wanted to include me, turning their boyhood duo into some sort of a triumvirate, had been ludicrous. Why couldn't Edwin see through Amar? Even his own mother saw through his “ill-fitting suit.”

“What shall I do if Amar invites me to the palace while you are away?” I said to his back.

“You cannot refuse him, unless you are unwell.”

“Then I don't see how it is unseemly for me to live in the cottage in Cochin and proper for me to remain at the Orchid House without you.”

As Edwin spun around, soap from his face sprayed out. I thought he was going to contradict me, but he stared at me with wide, worried eyes and said, “I see your point. Let me give it some thought.”

My heart soared. In his own way, Edwin was realizing he could not leave me here alone. I was confident he would figure a way to take me with him. If I could only be less demanding and more clever, we would not have to chafe against each other. Most of the time, my first response was to argue or complain, while his was to try to understand my position. How lucky I was to have him! With a burst of feeling, I jumped up and hugged him.

“Ow!” he groaned as the razor nicked his chin.

I pulled the cloth from his waist and blotted the scratch. “Sorry, darling.”

“Kiss it,” he ordered.

I licked the ruby globule obediently. He found my mouth and gave me a fierce kiss. Together we stumbled back to the bed.

“You'll be late for the maharajah.”

“The hell with the maharajah,” Edwin said as he labored to make the pain in my chest float far, far away.

 

“I have settled everything,” Edwin announced the next morning.

“What time did you come in last night?” I asked sleepily as Yali placed a teacup in my hand.

“Must have been more like morning.. I saw the sunrise.”

“What did you do?”

“Talked about old times mostly. You would have been bored.” Seeing himself in, the mirror, he brushed his hair, which stuck out over his head like bristles on the back of a water buffalo.

“You shouldn't have got up so early.”

“I didn't want to wait to tell you the good news.”

He was going to take me with him!

“You won't have to be alone in Trivandrum.”

My heart beat in anticipation.

“Dennis Clifford was there, at least for the first part of the evening.

Since the maharajah's made no move to have him become the resident in Trivandrum, he mentioned he might be returning to Quilon. I don't think he can abide living with Sir Mortimer Trevelyan much longer. On the other hand, though, it would be a mistake for him to disappear or he might lose his chance to be seen as Trevelyan's obvious successor. Then I thought of a way he could help us and we could help him. I mentioned that you needed a companion while I was away, and he graciously offered to move into the Orchid House—with Mrs. Clifford, of course.”

“Of course,” I muttered, not at all pleased with this solution. “What about their children?”

“You won't mind if they come down from Quilon, will you? You could help with their Latin and other studies. You once told me you liked to teach.”

“I do, but. . .”

Edwin cocked his head. “Yes?”

I tried to swallow my disappointment and reminded myself that the Cliffords would insulate me from Amar's whims. “I suppose there is plenty of room here,” I offered meekly.

“You do like Jemima Clifford,” he added hopefully.

“Yes, darling, I like her very much.”

Relief flooded his face; then he grimaced.

“What is the matter?”

“Too much wine.”

I shook my head. “Were you naughty boys last night?” My voice was light and teasing, but when his face darkened for a moment, my pulse quickened. Mother Esther had warned me about Amar's adverse influence. What did she know that I did not? At least if Edwin was away, the maharajah could not sway him. I would stay with the Cliffords, protected by them. Once Edwin bought the ship, we would return to Cochin for good. After a few brief weeks of separation, all would be well.

 

The moment the maharajah's launch disappeared into the mists of the captive seas of the backwater, I burst into sobs.

Jemima Clifford comforted me as though I were an injured child. “Now, now, he will be coming back soon . . .”

Something terrible was happening to my throat. I choked, coughed, sputtered, and then was grasped by the fear that I would never be able to breathe again. My panic must have worsened the condition. As I slumped to my knees, even sanguine Jemima became alarmed.

“Boy! Come here!” she yelled at Hanif, who at Edwin's insistence had remained behind to assist me. “Your cap! Take it off! Fill it with water.” He bent down and scooped up some brackish water. She splashed my face. “There . . . there, Dinah.” My hysterical sobs diminished to sputtering gasps. “Ah, your color is better. We must get you home and cool you off properly,” she said as she continued to dribble water across my forehead.

I sat up and wiped my face with the back of my sleeve. I must have been a horrid sight with my hair mussed, my face streaked with tears and muddy water. She helped me stand. I thought I could manage until my gaze followed the turn in the river where I had lost sight of Edwin. Once again my legs felt like jelly.

“What am I to do?” I mumbled as she seated me in the cow-cart.

“You will go on,” she said firmly. “I know this seems like a tragic moment, my dear, but Edwin is alive and well and will return in a few short weeks. You must do him credit by holding your head high and making certain everything is in order when he returns. Dennis and I both know you are not some silly sprite who will require coddling. Give yourself a day to recover and organize a new routine, and you will be fine.”