By Eastern windows (9 page)

Jane glanced at Maria who quickly averted her eyes, her face as flushed as Jane’s, her head lowered over her plate.

‘Is that understood? James repeated.

After a long stillness, Jane finally spoke, the word coming with a desperate effort through her stiff lips. ‘Yes.’

Standing up quickly, she left the room and the house, losing herself in the shaded areas of the garden until the tears finally came, relieving her rage.

FOUR

Two months later, in the month of May, General Sir Robert Abercrombie decided to host another grand event at Government House. Sir Robert had declared that in his opinion, during a time of peace, it was very important for the British Military to show the British civilians in Bombay some sociability

‘Not my opinion at all,’ Sir Robert confessed to Colonel Balfour. `An order from the Commander-in-Chief, Lord Cornwallis.’

‘That dear old duck,’ Balfour said amiably. `He was just the same in America, constantly hosting social events for those of the American gentry who remained loyal to the British crown. Now I hear that he is constantly dining in the company of maharajas over there in Bengal.’

‘Yes, well I have a few maharajas on my own guest list,’ Abercrombie confided. ‘It’s time to build a few bridges after that business in Mysore, don’t you think?’

‘Oh, I do,’ Balfour agreed. ‘And if we can’t build new bridges we can at least try to mend those that are damaged. Don’t worry, Sir Robert, the night will be a sparkling success for everyone. I shall see to all the arrangements myself, just as you ask.’

*

On the night, Captain Macquarie was once again on duty, but this time, under the watchful eye of Colonel Balfour, he did not take time out to dance.

In fact, James Morley hardly saw the captain at all, and as the night wore on he was very pleased to see Jane continually dancing with a very eligible civil servant who had made enough money in India to buy half of London if he ever decided to return there.

A very good potential marriage prospect indeed.

True, the civil servant
was
a lot older than Jane, a widower in his early fifties, but a woman could not have
everything.
After all, he himself had been a forty-eight-year-old widower when he had married Maria three years ago, and she only twenty-one. But he knew that he would never have won Maria without the wealth he had made in India. Maria's father had accepted his proposal solely on the condition that he would keep her in the rich and comfortable lifestyle to which she was accustomed. And so far, in his opinion, their marriage was working perfectly well.

But where was Maria now?

In the supper-room James Morley stood waiting by one of the rows of long buffet tables covered in dishes containing roast chicken, cutlets of lamb, curry, rice, chuppatis, mutton pie and so many other dishes that made the juices in his corpulent stomach groan with impatience.

What the devil was keeping Maria and Jane? Why women took so long preening themselves up in the dressing-rooms before supper was one of the worst irritations men had to suffer. Did they have
no
consideration for a man's stomach?

Guests jostled back and forth past him and James noticed their plates were, as usual, overloaded with food. It was laughable now to recall how he had been warned before his arrival in Bombay that the humid heat of India destroyed the appetite – yet he still had to discover any evidence of that. Personally, he loved the pleasures of the table more now than he ever did, more than he had previously loved women, and almost as much as he loved wealth.

He looked again at the tables of food with a plunderer's lusty eye, but as ravenous as he was, to start tucking in before his wife arrived was simply not done.

He decided to alleviate the torture by taking a brief stroll in the gardens at the rear of Government House. The night was very clear, the cool stillness of the garden pleasantly refreshing after the heat inside which even the swishing punkahs could not relieve.

He strolled across the moonlit lawn, savouring the quiet beauty of the night, his footsteps inaudible on the evening-watered grass. He turned to the right, towards a group of flame trees, his eyes musing on the glory of tropical moonlight, when he noticed a curious scene by one of the trees that made his eyes blink in puzzlement ... Jane ... in close and intimate conversation with Captain Macquarie!

The moonlight only emphasised the white rage that milked James Morley's face as he stared at the two figures by the flame tree. And when the soldier lowered his head and kissed Jane's mouth — blasphemy hovered on Morley's lips.

But a cunning sense swiftly intervened and – No, he thought. No, it would not be him that was reduced to a quivering state of indignity as a result of outraged shouting. No, he would simply wait for them to draw apart and when Macquarie looked around and saw him standing just a few yards away, it would be him, the offender, who would have to find the babbling explanations and apologies that would be received with nothing more than his own frozen stare of contempt.

Morley waited, and waited, but the kiss was endless. He watched in astonishment as Jane's arms moved around the soldier’s body. The minutes that followed seemed incredible to him as he stood in wonder and witnessed their strange intensity. He began to feel uneasy standing there, watching two people who thought they were alone, as if all sound was blanked out, as if the contact of their bodies and lips was appeasing some hungry heathen god.

An ambiguous feeling began to replace Morley's anger, a feeling of being old, cramped, and a desperate desire to be somewhere else – anywhere else away from here.

Silently, he moved away.

Ten minutes after his own return, Jane entered the supper-room, a sudden burning colour tingeing her already flushed cheeks as she looked at the white face of her brother-in-law and the nervous tremblings of her sister.

A few minutes later the Morleys and their ward left Government House.

*

It was no less than an ambush! That was the only way Lachlan could describe James Morley's action the following morning. Minutes after he had risen and dressed and before he had even breakfasted the man had gained access to his quarters and cornered him in a tirade of angry accusations.

‘I knew from the beginning that you were no better than all the other rogues in the licentious soldiery!’

Lachlan wondered briefly if he could arrest him or kill him for disturbing him so early. He spoke as mildly as he could. ‘No, sir, you insult me, I am not a rogue.’

‘Well you are certainly no gentleman – no matter what your old commanding officer says about you! Because if you were a
real
gentleman, you would desist in paying such particular attentions to my sister-in-law in view of all society. Since that first night your attentions have stimulated every tongue in Bombay to wag and are causing her family great distress. Do you not realise, sir, that your conduct could prevent offers of marriage being made to her!’

Morley had clearly come prepared for battle, but as Lachlan was so unprepared he decided to answer with the truth. ‘It is my understanding, sir, that my conduct has done no more than secure your sister-in-law's affection.’

‘And for what bally purpose, may I ask? Do you have the means of proposing marriage to her?’

‘Compared with other suitors, I could not offer her – ‘

‘Anything more than a modest competence to live on! Are you unaware of the fact that my wife's sister is not only the daughter of Antigua's late Consul, but also the younger sister of Thomas Jarvis who owns a very substantial sugar estate on that island? And although
he
is her legal guardian,
I
am her physical and moral guardian here in India. And therefore it is
my
duty to prevent her from connecting herself to one who could not support her in a respectable and comfortable lifestyle.’

‘Yes, I do realise that Jane is far beyond anything I have a right to expect...’ Lachlan paused, wondering why he was excusing himself to this blethering bigot who judged all men solely by their wealth and rank.
 
Well, that may be, but there was another aspect to this situation that Morley obviously had not considered.

‘Mr Morley,’ he said steadily, ‘I am a soldier, and therefore not a man used to making pretty speeches or flamboyant declarations of my intentions, so all I can tell you now is that Jane is the person I have been waiting to meet for all of my life, and I have reason to believe she feels the same about me.’

Morley stared. ‘I beg your pardon?’

Lachlan explained it simply. ‘We are in love with each other.’

Morley's face became rigid. For a long moment he fixed the captain with his frozen stare, then snapped,
 
‘Many men find themselves becoming amorously attached to a young lady of rank and fortune, but each man soon learns that becoming amorously attached is not enough, not nearly enough. And if he ever hopes to enjoy her wifely favours, he must at least make sure he is sufficiently endowed with worldly goods and an income that would admit any proposal to be an acceptable one.'

Morley lifted the hat he had earlier flung on the table and turned to leave, without even troubling to find out exactly just how much was the captain's income, or the present amount of his worldly goods.

At the door Morley placed the hat on his head and said curtly, ‘I think we understand each other now, Captain. You are expressly forbidden to have any further contact with my wife's sister, and she with you.’

When the door had closed, Lachlan remained where he was standing, motionless and thoughtful for at least a minute, before he shrugged and murmured, `But I intend to marry her, just the same.’
 

It was only a question of finding a way.

*

He was on duty with his company on the artillery ground at Matoonga when the order to report came from Major Auchmuty.

‘I thought I would inform you,’ said Major Auchmuty, ‘of a notice that will appear in tomorrow's General Orders, which is...’ he looked down at a paper, ‘that Captain Lachlan Macquarie of the 77th Regiment is appointed to act as Major of Brigade to His Majesty's Troops on the Coast of Malabar.’

Auchmuty looked up. `Congratulations.’

‘Thank you, sir.’

Lachlan was smiling. He would still retain the rank of captain, but the appointment of Brigade-Major was a promotion, and promotion meant more money.

‘Now, you are to immediately attend upon the Commander-in-Chief,’ said Auchmuty, `at Colonel Balfour's request.’

*

General Sir Robert Abercromby sat behind a desk piled with papers. In the room with him were two staff officers and Colonel Balfour.
 
Lachlan presented himself with a salute. ‘Sir.’

‘Captain Macquarie.’ General Abercromby sat back in his chair. ‘You are happy with your appointment as Major of Brigade?’

‘Very much, sir.’

`Well, I simply wanted to tell you, personally, that notwithstanding the many names put before me for this appointment, I preferred you to them all.’

‘Thank you, sir.’
 
It was all Lachlan could say.

Colonel Balfour rocked back on his heels triumphantly. Such praise for one of his own, coming from the newly appointed Governor-General of British India, was high praise indeed.

‘However,’ said General Abercromby,
 
‘it was not the appointment that I intended for you.
 
Had I remained as Governor of Bombay I intended to take you onto my staff, but that idea had to be dismissed by time and circumstance due to Lord Cornwallis's imminent return to England and the short notice of my own promotion and posting to Bengal next week.’

Inwardly Lachlan felt a rush of gratitude to time and circumstance for preventing him from being given an appointment that would have landed him in Bengal, on the other side of India.
 
The last thing he wanted to do now was leave Bombay.

‘I cannot express my thanks, sir, or indeed my feelings of gratitude and obligation for such a consideration,’ he replied quietly.

‘Oh, my dear fellow,' declared the general with a smile. `Any feelings of gratitude or obligation should not be directed solely to me, but to the many officers who recommended you so highly for an appointment on my staff.’

Lachlan felt somewhat dazed by this information. It appeared that his fellow officers held him in much higher esteem than Mr James Morley.

*

James Morley was not at all pleased when Captain Lachlan Macquarie paid him an early visit at his office a week later.

‘Damn the man calling at this early hour,’ Morley grumbled. ‘Hardly had a chance to fit myself into my chair.’

He was about to give an order that Macquarie be told he was unavailable when the captain walked uninvited into the office, removed his hat, allowed Morley's servant to leave, and closed the door behind him.

It was an ambush, but this time it was Morley who was unprepared.