This Heart of Mine (63 page)

“But the room is empty and devoid of decoration, my lord,” said Velvet. She gracefully waved her hands about the space, noting as she did so that her two friends had withdrawn and that she was now alone with Akbar.

“There is a cradle.”

“It has no occupant.”

“We will remedy that lack, my Rose.”

“Come and see the rest of the house,” she said, and quickly drew him from the nursery. “I have not seen the rooms next door.”

“They are for the servants,” he answered, leading her down the hallway and across the connecting corridor to the opposite side of the building. “I have looked into the salon. It is simply furnished, and you must do whatever you desire with it for this is your home. You may want to obtain furniture from England, which can be done through the Portuguese. You have only to make a list for Adali.” They had reached the gallery, and Akbar turned to the right. “If I remember, the main chamber is here,” he said, opening the carved door to the room. Then, turning back, he picked her up in his strong arms, saying as he did so, “The holy fathers tell me it is a Christian custom to carry a bride over the threshold of her new home.” He carried her into the room.

For a third time that afternoon Velvet felt a blush suffuse her face and throat. To cover her sudden shyness she exclaimed, “What a lovely room! I only glanced at it before when Rugaiya Begum and Jodh Bai were with me. Please put me down, my lord, so I may explore farther.”

An amused little smile touched the corners of his sensual mouth, but he complied with her request. “If the room pleases you, Candra, then I shall be content. I gave very careful instructions as to its decoration. It must be a beautiful garden to house my perfect English Rose.” He then stood silently as she carefully studied the chamber.

The floors of the room were of highly polished teakwood and glowed with a soft warmth. There were dark open beams
in the wooden ceiling carved with flowers that had been painted in reds, blues, and golds. The walls were divided by a narrow wooden molding that ran horizontally approximately a third of the way up from the floor. The molding was covered in gold leaf, and the portion of wall below it was painted a dark blue. Above the molding the walls were decorated in an incredible painting depicting a jungle where a magnificent tiger lurked and brightly colored parrots shrieked from the trees. The jungle gradually gave way to a fertile plain populated by animals done in the most exquisite detail, including a small herd of elephants with babies, young bulls and cows, several older females, and a grizzled patriarch with magnificent tusks. There were, Velvet observed, a trio of mischievous squirrels in a plane tree; a wonderful mother leopard teaching her two cubs how to hunt; a tribe of rather amusing monkeys; sheep; goats; gazelles; and a fantastic peacock and its hen. Velvet was dazzled by the marvelous painting that spread from one wall to the next until it reached a panel showing two lovers on an open terrace. She recognized Akbar at once and then, looking closely, saw that the beautiful woman portrayed had white skin in contrast to the man’s wheaten hue and that her long hair was auburn.

“I think that Basawan did very well considering that all he had to work with was my rather lyrical description of you,” Akbar observed.

Velvet was speechless for the moment. It was a beautiful painting that depicted behind the lovers a clear blue lake. On the other side of the lake the snowcapped purple mountains rose into an early morning sky of molten gold and peach. A green rug, its gold and orange designs quite distinctive to the eye, had been spread on the terrace, and there on colorful pillows the lovers knelt, gazing into each other’s faces. Akbar was dressed in white pantaloons, his chest bare, a small turban upon his dark hair, a rope of milky pearls about his neck reaching to his navel. Velvet, portrayed as his consort, was garbed in sheer turquoise silk gauze pantaloons through which her slender legs were quite visible. She was decked in strands of long pink pearls and gold chains, but her torso from the decorative waistband of her pantaloons upward was quite bare.

“I told the artist that you had delightfully saucy little breasts,” said Akbar. “I am not satisfied with the way they are drawn. He will have to redo them, but this time he can paint from life.”

“My lord!” She was mortified. “Would you have me exposed before another man?”

“He is an artist, Candra. Besides, here in my land we do not hide the body, nor cry false modesty. If it will make you easier in your mind, however, I will be with you when Basawan redoes the painting.”

Velvet fell silent again and studied the painting once more. It was really quite charming. The lovers were not alone upon their terrace. Indeed there were two maidservants, one to fan the royal pair, the other engaged in preparing refreshments, and a pretty musician who strummed upon what looked to Velvet like a lute but for its long neck. The last occupant on the terrace was a large, fat cat with long black fur and a somewhat pleased expression on its face as it eyed a small bird perched upon a tubbed tree. It was her own kitten, Banner, grown up. She turned and saw that even now he was already curled up sleeping upon a corner of the bed.

Velvet then focused attention on the furnishings in the room. The large rug upon the floor, she noted, was identical to the one in the painting. There was a low, rectangular table of polished teak against one wall of the chamber. About it were strewn plump, silken pillows in shades of blue, green, and purple with gold stripes. Along another wall were two carved and decorated chests, which would be used for Velvet’s clothing, and against the wall opposite was a cream-colored marble platform veined in gold upon which rested a magnificent bed with a canopied wooden top that was domed. The exterior of the dome had been laid over in gold leaf; the interior, as Velvet was soon to find out, had been painted a deep blue with shining gold stars, some of which twinkled with diamonds that had been imbedded in them. The four posts holding up the canopy were gilded and carved with vines and flowers that had been painted most realistically. The bed was hung with blue, green, and golden gauze draperies, and upon the wall at its head a large shamsa had been painted; in the center of this sunburst design was a rosette of abstract and arabesque designs in gold, red, and blue. In the very middle of the rosette was a circle, the outer ring of which was gold, followed by rings of first blue and then red, inscribed with several verses in Arabic script.

Akbar translated for Velvet knowing the words by heart since he had ordered them specially. “The first verse is from the
Kama Sutra.
It reads:
Once the Wheel of Love has been set in motion, there is no absolute rule.
The second verse says:
Your being contains mine; now I am truly part of you. Together as one, we form an unbroken circle of love.
The last verse is from the Mahabharata and says:
The wife is half the man, his priceless friend; Of pleasure, virtue, wealth, his constant source; A help throughout his earthly years; Through life unchanging, even beyond its end.
These words, Candra, speak of my love for you. My joy at having found you. Alas, I am not a poet and must rely upon the words of others to tell you what’s in my heart.”

For a long moment Velvet could not speak. Her throat was tight, and quick tears filled her eyes. Then she turned to look into his dark ones. “I do not understand,” she began softly, “why I should be so fortunate as to have your love, my lord Akbar, but my own heart is filled to overflowing. I told you once I should not tell you that I loved you unless it were so, but now I believe that I do love you. I cannot imagine my life without you, and I long for a child of your loins and my body. We come from totally different worlds, different cultures, and yet if I can truly make you happy, then I shall be content.” She reached up and touched his face gently, her fingers softly trailing down his cheek and across his sensual lips.

Passion blazed in his eyes, and, catching her hand, he kissed her palm ardently. “I adore you,” he murmured. “Of women I have always had my fill, and I have made love to many. Some I have even cared for in my way, and they have become my friends. But you, my beautiful Rose, I love with my whole heart. Never before has there been one like you, and there shall never be another to fully engage my heart!”

Velvet’s heart hammered wildly at the extravagance of his tribute. She was totally overwhelmed by this love of his, which enveloped and surrounded her. Her emerald eyes caught his dark ones, and she could actually feel the love flowing between them. Her lips trembled with the fierce emotions that buffeted her, and she swayed. Akbar’s strong arm immediately shot out and wrapped itself about her slender waist. Slowly he drew her toward him and then their mouths met in a tender kiss. His warm lips gently caressed her quivering ones, pressing delicate little kisses across her entire mouth.

Then he stepped back from her, still holding her in his embrace, and said, “You are tired from your long journey, my love, and I am not insensitive to that. Rest now, and I will come to you tonight. I want to make love to you, Candra. I should like to do it this very minute, but in your exhaustion your own pleasure, and therefore mine, would not be complete. Our coming together will be better for the anticipation.”

With a smile he released his hold on her and together they walked to the door of the chamber. Reaching it, Akbar kissed her again lightly. “Pansy and the others should have arrived
by now. I will send them to you.” Then he opened the door and was gone.

Moving back to the bed, Velvet flung herself down upon it, not even noticing the coverlet that had been embroidered in jewellike hues of blue, green, and gold in a peacock’s tail pattern. She gazed again at the wall behind the bed. There were so many things she had not seen before; magnificent golden phoenixes and other birds soaring around the central figure of the sunburst. Her eyes went again to the Arabic lettering in the very center. The verses he had quoted her were so beautiful, so wildly romantic.

She thought about the first verse he had spoken to her.
Once the Wheel of Love has been set in motion, there is no absolute rule.
There was certainly truth in that statement. Had she not expected after her marriage to Alex that they would remain together for the rest of their lives? She had certainly never thought that her husband would be killed in a foolish and prideful duel, leaving her bereft. How strange life was. How many women lost one love to so easily find another?

The chamber door opened and Pansy rushed in, chattering. “What a wonderful home, my lady! The lord Akbar certainly thinks highly of you. None of the other ladies have their own house. When we was in the baths just a little while ago, Toramalli and Rohana said that the other serving women were gossiping something fierce about it. Some of their mistresses are jealous of you, and others afraid of the power they think you wield over Akbar.”

“I have no power over my lord,” Velvet replied.

“He’s a man in love and that always gives a woman power,” said Pansy wisely. Then she looked about the room. “Lord! If this ain’t the prettiest place I’ve ever seen, I don’t know what is! The walls are simply beautiful with all those paintings, and I just love the blues and greens and golds. ’Tis so rich. I’ll wager the queen herself doesn’t have such a beautiful room in all of her palaces!”

“I wouldn’t know, Pansy, having never visited all of the queen’s castles. This house, however, suits me admirably. My lord has said I may buy whatever I desire for it.” Velvet smiled at her tiring woman. “You’re refreshed now? How is the baby doing?”

“Happy as a little pink pig in the clover, he is, m’lady. That black slave girl, Sari, that Adali found me to help with the baby is a good soul, bless her. She’s going to spoil him completely and that’s for certain, but without her how could I serve you?”

“You’re more like your mother every day, Pansy. As sorry as I am to have taken you from your family, and from Dugald, I am so glad you are with me! What would I do without you?”

“Quite well, m’lady, and I’ve not a doubt. You’re just being kind,” demurred Pansy.

Velvet didn’t press the issue any further, for it would have only embarrassed the loyal Pansy. Instead she said, “I want to rest for a few hours. I’m not certain what to do about food yet, for we’ve no cook, though Jodh Bai has promised me that she will send me one tomorrow.”

“It’s all been taken care of, m’lady,” Pansy assured her. “His Majesty gave orders before he left the house that you were to eat without him. He will return late. Adali has sent Rohana to the kitchens of the zenana to arrange for a meal for us all. Let me make you comfortable, and then I’ll bring your food. You can rest afterwards.”

The meal arrived quickly and was hot and delicious. Velvet was hungry, and she greedily devoured the charcoal-broiled lamb kebobs with tiny sweet white onions, seasoned with pungent ground black pepper. There was a rice pilaf, a small dish of green vegetables, and little sweet cakes made from alternating layers of crisp dough, chopped almonds, and honey. Adali had also brought her a peacock blue carafe of sweet wine.

Finished with her meal, she bathed her hands and face in a basin of rosewater that Pansy brought her, and after the tiring woman had drawn back the silken coverlet on the bed, Velvet lay down and fell into a deep sleep.

It was close to midnight when Adali awakened her. “The master comes,” he said, gently shaking her from her slumbers.

Slowly she arose from the silken cocoon that was their bed. The eunuch whisked her blouse and skirt from her, leaving her totally nude. Hurriedly Rohana sponged her with water into which jasmine oil had been poured, while Toramalli brushed Velvet’s long auburn hair with a similarly scented brush. The room was then quickly neatened, the basin and brush put away just seconds before Akbar entered the room.

He opened his arms, and Adali swiftly removed his master’s white robe with its silver sash and the matching silver turban. Beneath his robes Akbar was nude, but he showed no embarrassment at displaying his fine body before his wife’s eunuch and slave girls. As Adali discreetly withdrew from the room, the emperor joined Velvet upon the bed. Rohana brought them each a cup of wine and then seated herself in a
corner with Toramalli, who began to play a romantic Persian love song upon a stringed instrument.