Chapter 1
Calcutta, July 1810
"Miss Nicola. Miss
Nicola."
The whisper woke Nicola Gordon.
Like wasps around ripe fruit, tales of native uprisings swarmed in her
thoughts. She groped beneath the pillow for the knife she kept there.
The girls. She had to protect her
sisters.
"Miss Nicola, wake up."
"Who?" She tried to keep
fear from clogging her voice.
"Sarad."
"What are you doing here?
Where’s Papa?" Just two days ago, she had seen her father and his young
native assistant off on a buying trip. Fear gripped her spine. The knife fell
from her fingers.
"Your father. You must
come."
"I can’t leave my sisters.
What if they wake and find me gone?"
"They will be safe. Your papa
needs you. We were set upon by thugs and he was hurt. I found a safe place for
him to stay until I am sure we were not followed."
Nicola pushed aside the netting
that enclosed the bed. She found her shoes and grabbed a dark cloak. Her heart
thudded in her chest. Though she and Sarad had engaged in mischief years ago,
her childhood friend had become sober and responsible. So had she.
"Where is he?"
"The place is not far."
He slid open the door to the verandah. Nicola followed him to the gate in the
compound wall. The aroma of wet earth rose from the garden, but outside the
gates, the recent rains had failed to mask the scent of exotic flower and
spices of the odor of garbage. The absence of the moon created an ominous
darkness. She hurried through alleys and along streets beside her silent guide.
Her thoughts conjured a thousand tragedies.
She stumbled. A groan escaped.
Sarad gripped her arm. "Be
silent as the tiger stalking prey."
His warning chilled her. Who knew
what would happen to an Englishwoman caught in the streets at night.
Ahead, she saw the looming shadow
cast by one of the city’s many temples built to honor one of India’s multitude
of gods. Why had they come here?
Sarad pulled her into a dark
passageway that led into the temple. Their passing stirred the dust of the
ages, musty and dank. Finally, they emerged in a torch-lit room. She followed
her friend to a recessed alcove.
"Papa!" The blood-stained
bandages around his chest and head alarmed her. "Papa, oh, Papa." She
knelt on the stone floor beside him.
His dark eyes were unfocused. His
skin felt hot.
"The eye. Siva. The eye."
"I don’t understand."
"Nicola. Must warn. Must
tell."
"She is here, Sahib
Gordon."
Nicola gripped her father’s hand.
The flickering torchlight revealed his pain-filled features. "Papa, I will
take you home and see to your wounds."
He took a shuddering breath.
"Must leave Calcutta."
"Where will we go?" She
couldn’t think of leaving. Calcutta was home.
"To England. Ian Grey will
send an escort." He gasped a breath. "Your grandmother and Denmere.
Old Earl dead. Marry the new. Distant cousin."
His words shocked her nearly as
much as her memories. "My grandmother did not protect Mama. I don’t want
to marry and live with strangers." Why was he saying this? He would get
better and until then, she could care for her sisters. For ten years, since her
mother’s death, this had been the case.
His fingers tightened around hers.
"You must. Danger for you. For sisters." He struggled to sit up.
"Your knowledge. Gems."
Fresh blood seeped through the
dried stains on the bandages. "Rest, Papa." Tears rolled down her
cheeks. "I cannot leave you."
"Protect sisters."
She chewed her lower lip. "I
will keep them safe."
He sank back. "Promise. Marry
Denmere."
She couldn’t say the words.
"Papa."
He pressed a velvet pouch into her
hand. "For you and sisters. Not Fergus. Now go."
Though she thought about
disobeying, she kissed his cheek. As she and Sarad left the alcove, tears
cascaded down her cheeks and blurred her sight. She stopped to wipe her eyes
and stifled a gasp.
Torchlight illuminated statues and
wall carvings of men and women engaged in activities she had read of in the
Sanskrit manuscripts her teacher had given her. Her eyes widened in
astonishment. She hadn’t believed the human body could assume such convoluted
positions.
Sarad grasped her arm. "We
must go."
His whisper broke the spell. She
tore her gaze from the figures that fascinated and repelled. Her cheeks burned
as though she stood beneath the mid-day sun. She followed Sarad into the dark
passageway.
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