Lady Helen Finds Her Song Page 20

  Helen rose and moved to open the screens and watch the sunrise. Birds sang in the trees, and the smell of flowers wafted on the already warm air. On the road below, she saw women talking together as they carried large pots on their heads, bringing water for the day. Children laughed as they played around the women’s feet. It was difficult to believe this was the same land that produced such horror as she’d experienced the night before. She remembered what Captain Rhodes had said about India. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps the land was all the more remarkable because of the harshness beneath the surface.

  Happiness returned as she thought about the captain and how he seemed to know exactly what to say.

  Helen glanced up as the door opened.

  Sita entered with a pitcher of warm water and bowed. “Miss-Sahib, you are well?”

  “Yes. I feel much better, and I would like to wear my yellow dress today. Thank you.”

  Helen stood and allowed Sita to assist her as she washed and dressed. Her thoughts returned to Captain Rhodes, how he’d snatched her from her panicked horse, fired his weapon at the leopards, then spoken softly to calm her. Liquid heat filled her heart as she remembered his low voice and gentle words while he’d held her.

  She looked into the mirror above her dressing table as the ayah arranged her hair. “Sita, what is larla?”

  Sita met her eye in the mirror and looked back down as she continued pinning curls. “In my language, we say larla to a baby, a person we love. In English, it is meaning . . . ‘dearest.’”

  Dearest. The warmth inside her grew until she thought she might burst. Captain Rhodes had called her dearest.

  Perhaps her mind was sluggish from the sleeping draught or maybe she was still coming fully awake, but the realization hit Helen so suddenly that she gasped. She felt the blood drain from her cheeks and then return in a rush of fire.

  She was in love with Captain Rhodes.

  But how was it possible? His touch did not send her stomach tumbling nor make her unable to form a coherent sentence. She did not blush and lose every thought in her head when he smiled. With Captain Rhodes, she felt at ease, happy. He cared for her, listened to her, made her feel important.

  Her mother’s words came into her mind. I trust Jim with my heart and know without a doubt he would never hurt it. I am safe to say anything or be anything with him and he will not think less of me. That is what love is, my dear.”

  How had she not seen it? She had been so certain love meant being swept away in a whirlwind of volatile sensations that she’d not realized real love was not uncomfortable at all; it was exactly the opposite—the ability to simply feel at ease in another’s presence.

  Happiness, safety, surety that he would always come for her. That’s how she felt with him.

  When her mother was ill, her first thought had been to find Captain Rhodes. When she’d been afraid, when she’d been overjoyed by the pianoforte, upset by what she’d learned at the White Palace—each time, there had been only one person she’d wanted. Only one person she’d been able to speak to without feeling as though she said exactly the wrong thing. Only one who knew just how to cheer or comfort her.

  And she could not imagine what her life would be like without him.

  Helen jumped to her feet—apologizing to Sita when she nearly sent the woman toppling backward—and hurried from her bedchamber and down the staircase.

  Suddenly, seeing Captain Rhodes was the thing she wanted more than anything. She felt a pull to be near him and did not think she would be able to concentrate on anything else until she saw him now, knowing what her true feelings were. And hoping she would see those feelings reflected back in his gaze.

  Would he call on her today?

  The soldiers drilled early, before the heat made marching too difficult. Helen figured he would not call before ten at the very earliest. She did not think she could wait.

  Remembering that Lieutenant Bancroft had promised to call on Jim this morning threw a bit of gloom over her delight. She certainly needed to speak to the lieutenant before he spoke to Jim. Helen just hoped the man would realize his proposal of marriage was a matter that should be discussed at the general’s home and not this morning at the fort.

  When she entered the dining room, her mother and Jim both stood and hurried toward the doorway.

  Lady Patricia slipped an arm around Helen’s waist and led her to the table. “Helen, dear, are you well enough to be out of your bed?”

  “Yes, Mamá. I feel much better this morning.” She sat at the table next to her mother, unable to stop the smile that pulled at her cheeks.

  Her mother’s face relaxed.

  “Brave girl.” Jim nodded. “Rallying after the night you had.”

  Helen grinned at his praise. She took a sip of the watermelon juice a servant placed before her. “And did you see Captain Rhodes this morning?” She hoped her expression did not betray her to be anything more than casual. “I imagine he was quite tired, having to rise early for drills after such a late night.”

  “Seemed well enough.” Jim cut into a piece of sausage. “He’s asked to speak with me today. I expect him in a few hours.”

  “Oh.” Helen’s hand shook as she returned the glass to the table. “Ah, that is . . . good.” She took a bite of toast to keep herself from saying anything else idiotic. Captain Rhodes could be meeting with Jim for any number of matters, and Helen had no reason to think the purpose of his visit had anything to do with her. But what if . . . Her heart started to flutter, and try as she might she could not swallow the bit of toast that had turned to sand in her mouth. What if he’d felt the same as she when he held her in his arms? How could he not? How could he have spoken such gentle words, called her larla, if he was not in love with her?

  Glancing up, she saw Jim and her mother exchange a glance.

  “Are you sure you are recovered, Helen?” her mother asked. “Perhaps you should rest after breakfast.”

  Helen took another sip of juice. “Yes. I am quite well. I hoped to practice in the drawing room this morning if you do not have need of me.”

  “Fine idea,” Lady Patricia said. “And we shall not be at home to callers today, to give you a chance to rest.”

  After breakfast, Helen asked the butler to direct Lieutenant Bancroft to her when he arrived to speak to the general; then she sat to play the pianoforte.

  Less than an hour passed before the lieutenant was shown in.

  He strode toward her, lifting her hand and kissing it. “Good morning, my darling. I am glad to see you returned home safely last night. I had a bit of a chase, but unfortunately that blasted cat escaped. However, now that I have an idea of his hunting territory—”

  Helen did not wait to hear the remainder of his story. “Lieutenant, I wanted to speak with you.” She clasped her hands behind her back.

  He blinked, obviously surprised at being interrupted. “Oh. Of course.”

  “Why did you leave me?” Helen burst out.

  “I do not . . .” He squinted his eyes and tilted his head, looking genuinely confused by her question.

  Helen balled her hands at her sides, frustrated that he didn’t even have the slightest idea why she was upset. “You left me alone in a dark jungle, sir. I was very frightened.”

  “But the other group was merely a hundred meters ahead on the road. And you know how I wanted to bag a tiger. Surely you must understand the opportunity does not arise often.”

  “Sir, I do not understand. It was inexcusable.”

  “But, Helen.”

  “And do not call me by my Christian name. I do not wish for so familiar a relationship.”

  “But—”

  “I cannot marry you, Lieutenant.”

  “Because of the tiger?”

  “No.” Helen blew out an exasperated breath and relaxed her clenched muscles. She’d had enough of being angry. The lieutenant hadn’t meant to cause her any distress. He had simply been so focused on his own objective that he hadn’t taken into ac
count how upset his actions had made her. “It is not because of the tiger. I love someone else.”

  He leaned his head back, his mouth forming an O as understanding dawned on him. “I don’t know why I did not see it before.”

  “And, I should tell you, I do not ever wish to display hunting trophies in my house.”

  His eyes flew wide, and he took a step back. “Lady Helen, I . . . cannot . . .”

  “It is true. I am afraid we are ill suited, sir.”

  “I suppose we are.” His shoulders slumped the slightest bit, and Helen could not help but feel sorry for him.

  “Lieutenant, Miss Cavendish does seem very interested in seeing Lord Minto’s trophy collection. I do believe she mentioned it.”

  The corners of his mouth drew down, and his brows raised as he nodded. “Does she really?”

  “And I know she does not like India in the least and cannot wait to return to England.”

  “Promising . . .” He offered his arm, and Helen took it and walked with him. “It seems as though I have no reason to speak with the general after all.”

  “I am sorry indeed that we are such an abysmal match,” she said.

  He patted her hand then lifted it, turning toward her in the drawing room doorway. “Think nothing of it. It was very nice to be nearly engaged to you for a few hours, Lady Helen.”

  He kissed her hand again, but she did not feel unnerved this time. It seemed to be a friendly gesture instead of something more intimate.

  She curtsied and smiled. “And it was nice to be nearly engaged to you too, sir.”

  He pressed her hand against his chest and pulled her closer, whispering into her ear. “I wish you the best of luck with your endeavor.”

  “And you with yours,” Helen whispered back.

  Hearing footsteps in the entry hall, she and Lieutenant Bancroft drew apart. He stepped back, and she saw that Captain Rhodes had been admitted into the house without their notice.

  Helen’s heart tripped. “Captain. How nice to see you.” She could feel a blush rising on her cheeks as she smiled.

  He did not return her smile, nor did he pause but continued walking toward the general’s library. He nodded his head sharply. “My lady. Lieutenant.” His lips pressed together tightly, and his jaw was clenched.

  “Captain?”

  But he did not glance backward as he stepped into the library and closed the door behind him.

  Chapter 23

  Michael stood before the general’s desk, watching his commander’s brows draw together and his frown deepen as he read the paper Michael had given him. The sound of Helen’s playing started, and he had to forcibly restrict his thoughts to the matter at hand. Such distraction was making it difficult to focus.

  Finally, the general lowered the paper and raised his gaze. “A transfer?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He squinted his eye as he turned his scrutinizing gaze on Michael. “May I ask why?”

  “I am ready for a change, sir.” Michael recited the answer he’d prepared. He remembered the intimate moment he’d stumbled on moments earlier between Lady Helen and Lieutenant Bancroft. Her blush at being discovered had only strengthened his resolve to go through with his request.

  General Stackhouse’s expression didn’t change, and Michael got the distinct feeling that he saw more than Michael intended.

  “Any particular request regarding a station?”

  “No, sir. Nowhere in particular.”

  Jim let the paper drop onto his desk and rubbed his forehead above his patch. “Captain, it is completely within your rights to request such a thing, though I can’t say I’m happy about it. You’re a fine leader, and you’ll be missed. Finding a replacement with your knowledge of the language and customs will be blasted near impossible. And I know my wife, and especially Helen, will take it hard.”

  A swell of emotions rose inside him. Michael swallowed forcefully over the obstruction in his throat as he fought to keep any reaction from his countenance that would betray him to General Stackhouse.

  Jim’s brow ticked the slightest bit. He opened his mouth and then closed it, his lips pressed tightly together in a look of resignation. “Very well, Captain. I do not know how long it will take to reassign you, but I will start the transfer process immediately.”

  “Thank you, sir.” It was done.

  General Stackhouse cleared his throat while Michael remained at attention, awaiting a dismissal.

  “I wish to thank you again, Captain, for bringing Helen home safely.”

  Hearing her name so soon after seeing her with Lieutenant Bancroft stung his heart. Michael breathed deeply to ensure that his voice would not betray the emotion inside him. “Of course, sir.”

  “I am considering disciplinary action against the lieutenant. What was the man thinking, leaving her alone like that?”

  Disciplinary action sounded nearly too tempting for Michael to pass up. He’d not mind teaching the man a lesson himself. But he thought of how it would hurt Lady Helen for the man she loved to be punished, and he could not endure the idea of her tears again. “The lieutenant went after the tiger in order to protect her. He could not have known Lady Helen’s horse would turn around and lead her from safety.”

  The general’s brow raised, along with his chin, as he considered Michael and his explanation for the lieutenant’s actions. He focused his gaze, and Michael felt his collar growing tight. Not for the first time, he got the impression that General Stackhouse saw more than Michael wished to reveal.

  A knock sounded on the door, and at Jim’s bidding, a servant entered, handing him an envelope. Jim glanced down at it. “Very well. You are dismissed, Captain.”

  Michael saluted and turned on his heel, leaving the library. The meeting left him feeling wrung out, as though he’d been examined a bit too thoroughly. He walked toward the entryway, wishing he did not have to pass the drawing room but at the same time feeling drawn to the woman creating the beautiful music within it. He shook his head and quickened his step, feeling as if his heart and mind were at war. He’d allowed his heart to win the major battles thus far, and all it had brought was pain. Time for his head to take over. And beginning the transfer process was the first step.

  He stepped through the entry hall quietly and nodded to the butler as he walked through the door. He’d hoped giving his request to General Stackhouse would provide some measure of relief, but he felt even more anxious than he had when he’d arrived—anxious and sick with jealousy. Lieutenant Bancroft did not even begin to deserve Lady Helen.

  Thanking the syce, he took Ei-Zarka’s reins, but before he could mount, he heard his name. Michael turned to see a servant hurrying toward him. The man bowed his head and asked him to please return to the library at the request of General Stackhouse.

  Michael handed the reins back to the syce and hastened back inside.

  The general sat in his chair with one elbow on his desk, massaging his temples. He looked up when Michael entered. “Close the door and take a seat, Captain. We have a situation.”

  Michael moved to the chair in front of the desk.

  General Stackhouse’s brows were furrowed, and the lines around his eyes and mouth had somehow become deeper in the past three minutes. The man’s expression, which at the best of times could be considered stern, was downright furious. “From our intelligence in the Shah’s kingdom.” He held a folded paper toward Michael. “The Shah’s daughter was born yesterday.”

  Michael sucked in a breath through his teeth as he looked over the missive.

  “The Rani claims it is our fault that her child was born female, that Helen somehow put a curse on her with a beaded necklace in order to prevent an heir.”

  Michael nodded once, maintaining an impartial expression. The Shah’s accusation was preposterous, but knowing the beliefs of these people and the Shah’s fear about losing his kingdom, it was not a surprise that witchcraft had been blamed and that the British had been accused. He did not like Lady
Helen being singled out in the least but understood why the Rani had done it.

  “That is the most ridiculous—” The general stood and started pacing.

  “Wise woman,” Michael said. “The story probably saved her life.”

  The general turned toward him, and his scowl deepened. “You did read the part about the Shah claiming my daughter is a blue-eyed witch?”

  Michael nodded. “The Indian people are very superstitious. And although the accusation is insulting—”

  “It’s a relief that the man no longer seems to have designs on Helen.”

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  The men’s eyes met briefly, and Michael saw more than anger at the Shah or concern for the tactics required to prevent a war. Though the general tried to maintain a professional facade, fear for his daughter, his family, showed in the tension around his eyes.

  Michael felt an equal apprehension, though worry was woven through with envy. He had no family to protect, and he had to remind himself that the general and Lieutenant Bancroft were the ones who should rightfully safeguard Helen.

  General Stackhouse sank into the chair next to Michael. “Funny how a thing like family makes a declaration of war seem less of a concern than an unfit man pursuing my daughter.” He smiled wryly. “It appears my priorities have turned entirely around, wouldn’t you say?”

  Michael understood. They were talking about the potential of lives lost and countryside ravaged, and they had been incensed by the Shah’s insulting words toward Lady Helen. He cleared his throat and turned his mind toward military matters even though Lady Helen was his gravest concern at the moment as well.

  After a moment, Jim spoke again. “He’s planning to attack the smaller stations outside of Calcutta. We should send word immediately to Barrackapore, prepare to defend the stations, and march the remainder of the regiment, hopefully taking the battle as far from Calcutta as possible.”