This Heart of Mine (50 page)

Read This Heart of Mine Online

Authors: Bertrice Small

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Historical, #Sagas

BOOK: This Heart of Mine
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He was a tall, spare man, his skin bronzed by the relentless Indian sun, his eyes cold and flat, and his hair dark. He had a beautifully barbered small beard and a narrow moustache. To her amazement he was dressed in the height of fashion, in black velvet and white lace, which she couldn’t help thinking must be very warm considering the heat of the day. She herself had chosen to wear a simple brown silk gown with an open neckline in order to be as cool as possible.

Father Ourique moved to introduce Velvet as she entered the dining chamber. “Your Excellency, may I present Velvet Gordon, the Countess of BrocCairn, who will be your guest until her brother returns to complete our business. She is the only child of Lord and Lady de Marisco.”

Velvet curtsied politely. “Your Excellency,” she said.

He bowed, but his eyes were instantly fastened upon her breasts. “You are a widow, madame?” was his greeting.

“Yes, m’lord.”

“Children?”

“No, m’lord. We were not blessed, and our union was short.” “You remind me of your mother, though you don’t really look like her,” the governor said. “A most beautiful woman, Lady de Marisco.”

“My father is her equal, for he is the most handsome man I have ever known,” said Velvet proudly.

“A troublesome man, your father, madame, but then your mother for all her beauty is a troublesome woman.”

The dinner was served. Velvet ate automatically, not even remembering what it was she consumed. The governor spoke no more to her, instead conversing in his own language with the Jesuit. When the meal was over, she politely bid the two good night and, escorted by a servant, turned to make her way to her chambers. She could feel the governor’s eyes boring into her back as she left the room.

Pansy was feeling better, having stuffed herself with fresh fruit. “I haven’t got the foggiest notion what half of them was, m’lady.” She laughed. “But it all tasted delicious, and I decided if they brought it for you, it must be all right.”

Both the young women were exhausted, so they retired early, Velvet sleeping on the bed and Pansy on the trundle.

Velvet didn’t know exactly what it was that woke her during the night, but she suddenly came wide awake and saw Don Cesar standing over her bed, flanked by several of his native servants. Before she could cry out, she was pulled up from the bed. Her first reaction was one of anger. How dare they lay hands upon her! But the anger turned to fear when the governor calmly reached out and ripped the thin silk of her night rail from her. Her eyes widened, and her throat tensed in a shocked scream of outrage and embarrassment.

“Beautiful,” he murmured almost worshipfully, ignoring her cry. He stood before her, cupping her breasts, and then his hands smoothed down to fit the curve of her waist. “I hope you realize that I am denying myself greatly by sending you to the emperor, madame. He has never, to my knowledge, had a fair-skinned European woman in his harem, and you shall be the first.” He ran his hand across her belly, and then slid it around to fondle one of her buttocks. “Glorious! Absolutely glorious! What tender, young skin you have!” He fingered her freshly washed auburn hair. “How soft it is,” he said, almost to himself, “and perfection with your emerald eyes. You are really quite magnificent, madame, perhaps even more beautiful than your bitch of a mother.”

Velvet stiffened angrily. “How dare you, my lord! How dare you speak of my mama in such a fashion!”

“Your mama!”
He hissed, and at the corner of his lips a tiny foam of spittle appeared. “I offered your mama the honor of my protection. Unlike your father and his heretic crew, whom I housed in my dungeons, I brought your mama here to my palace and put her in rooms next to my own apartments.

“She flaunted her beauty before me in lascivious fashion, taunting and tempting me beyond reason.” His dark eyes were haunted by the memory and filled with pain. His face grew almost frenzied with his hatred. “I desired her, and she refused me! She said I was incapable of true desire, a poor excuse for a man, that she would rather be in a filthy prison than with me! The bitch! She dared to spit in my face!”

“Good for Mama!” Velvet cried out bravely, and Pansy silently cheered her mistress.

Outraged by this echo of her mother’s defiance, the governor slapped Velvet across the face as if to gain some measure of revenge on Skye. Then he smiled, showing small, pointed, yellowed teeth. “Perhaps such a show of spirit will intrigue the Grand Mughal, my dear.”

“Are you mad, sir?” she demanded. “How dare you enter my chamber and behave as you are doing!”

The governor laughed. “You English! Always so cool in a crisis. Have you not heard a word I have said to you?

“Tonight you will begin a journey across this incredible land to Lahore, the capital of Akbar, the Grand Mughal himself,” Don Cesar told her. “You are a gift to him from me. He has several thousand concubines in his harem, but if you are lucky you will attract him. Akbar, has, I am told, a great appetite for beautiful women. He has never had a European concubine before. What a rarity you will be for him! He will be in my debt, thanks to you! And I will have settled my score with your shameless mother.”

Velvet was shocked by the governor’s words. “You are mad, sir!” she cried out to him. “I am under the protection of the church. You cannot do this!”

Cesar Affonso Marinha-Grande laughed heartily. “I can do whatever I want for I am the governor here. No one, not even Padre Ourique, will know what I have done with you until your unsuspecting brother has paid the ransom. Do you think the Jesuit will ride after you then, after he learns what I have done? Do not be foolish, madame! The Jesuit only seeks the gold your brother brings. His share will help him to do great things among the heretics, and perhaps in time word of it will get to Paris and he will be recalled with honors to civilization. No, he will not help you. As for your brother, he will not be able to go after you. What does he know of this land? He will be expelled immediately upon his
delivery of the ransom. You are no virgin to weep and whine. Resign yourself to your fate, madame!”

Velvet was horrified, and then her eyes met Pansy’s frightened ones. “At least leave my servant here to return with my brother to England. This heat will be her death, sir.”

“No! The girl goes with you! Or else she dies!” He reached for the dagger at his waist.

“No!” Velvet cried, thinking, we are at the mercy of a madman!

“Then you must both make ready to leave. My caravan of gifts departs within the hour. The moon will light your way, and it is cooler traveling at night. Unfortunately, there will be no palanquin for you. You will travel faster on your own two feet. I will send a woman to you who will show you how to dress so that your skin will not be marred by exposure to the sun. Farewell.”

“Please, sir!” Velvet called after him, and he turned back to her. “Why are you doing this? Think on it! I am the godchild of two queens, not some poor, defenseless girl with no family. Cease your actions now and I will say nothing, and neither will Pansy.”

Suddenly his face went dark with rage, and he almost spat the words at her. “You are just like your mother,” he said venomously. “A proud, defiant wench. Well, we will see how defiant you are after a year in the Grand Mughal’s harem!” Then, whirling, he was gone with his servants, and a dark-skinned woman in native dress was entering the room.

“I am Zerlinda,” she said. “The governor has sent me with garments for you and your servant.”

“Zerlinda! You must help us!” said Velvet desperately. “I am the Countess of BrocCairn. I am under the protection of the Jesuits. What the governor is doing is wrong. Help me and I will reward you well. My brother will give you whatever you want!”

“What I want is to be the wife of Don Cesar, and he has promised me that if I help him,” came the woman’s frightening reply. “I have loved him for three years, but what chance did I, a half-caste of Portuguese-Jewish-Indian blood, have to be his wife? There is nothing that you can give me, madame, to aid you. After tonight I will have everything!”

She handed Velvet and Pansy enveloping robes that covered them from neck to ankle. The garments were of cotton gauze and striped in several colors. After they had put them on, Zerlinda said, “I have hooded capes for you also. The nights are sometimes cool, and if it should rain you will need them. Be sure you take sturdy shoes. It is a long trek to Lahore. You will be on the road well over a month.”

Numbly Velvet donned her cape. She could not believe what was happening to her. Suddenly she grew very angry. “I am not
going to be kidnapped like this!” she said. “Neither my servant nor I will leave this room until we have seen Father Ourique. He will not permit this outrage!”

Zerlinda said nothing. Instead she opened the door and spoke quickly in Portuguese to the soldier who waited outside. He entered the room, and, walking swiftly up to Velvet, he hit her on the jaw, catching her as she collapsed unconscious into his arms.

“Get shoes for yourself and your mistress, and any other small thing you can carry that will make her comfortable,” said Zerlinda. “I will wait outside, but be quick.”

Pansy gathered up Velvet’s hairbrush, some hairpins, ribbons, handkerchiefs, a tiny jeweled gold mirror, and a small silver paring knife that Velvet carried on a delicate matching chain. Carefully Pansy wrapped the whole bundle in a large silk square. Sturdy shoes, Zerlinda had said. Pansy almost laughed. Sturdy shoes were all she possessed, but her lady was another matter. All she had were silken slippers. Sighing, Pansy unwrapped her bundle and, adding three pair of the delicate footwear, retied it. Then hoisting it into her arms she left the room.

Pansy followed Zerlinda down into the courtyard where a formidable-looking caravan was assembled. “Your mistress is there,” said Zerlinda, pointing at a cart. “This entire caravan is made up of gifts for the emperor. It is well protected. Neither you nor your mistress will come to any harm. The caravan master understands that your mistress is a special gift for the emperor himself.” Then as an afterthought Zerlinda said, “Tell your mistress that the lord Akbar is a kind and good man well loved by his people.”

Pansy clambered into the cart where her mistress lay. Gently she fingered Velvet’s jaw. Thank God there would be no bruise, and that was a miracle for the brute had hit her hard enough.

The caravan departed the governor’s palace and wound through the silent streets of the city onto the northwest highway. A bright moon shone down on them, illuminating their way.

It wasn’t until morning that Velvet began to rouse. By then the caravan was well north of the city. Pansy, who had been walking next to the cart that carried Velvet, was glad to see her mistress awake and apparently unharmed.

With the sun came the heat, and finally toward midmorning they made camp in the shelter of some large rocks. Water and fruits were passed around, the animals cared for, and then everyone but those guarding the caravan fell asleep.

“I know you’ve slept all the night, m’lady, but you’d best sleep
today as well. Tonight you’ll be walking, and you’re not used to it,” Pansy said.

“I feel awful,” Velvet admitted, “my head hurts.”

“I’m not surprised,” the tiring woman fussed as she braced her mistress’s shoulders and gently fed her some brackish water. When Velvet had sipped her fill, Pansy offered her slices of a soft, reddish fruit with a sweet taste. “I ain’t got no idea what it is, but it tastes good,” she said.

Velvet laughed weakly, but she nibbled on the fruit eagerly.

They slept the day away in the stifling heat, which toward mid-afternoon was broken for a short time by a rainstorm. Huddling in a small, open cave made by two large rocks, they were better protected with their hooded capes than the others.

Then in the late afternoon as the rain ceased several cookfires sprang up, and a lamb was butchered and roasted. Together the two women waited their turn as the meat was finally carved, and were given pieces of lamb and a ladleful each of rice on a tin plate. There were no utensils, and so, following the lead of their captors, they used their three middle fingers to scoop up the rice. The meal over, the trek began again as soon as the campfires were put out and everything packed away.

It was in the middle of the third week of their trek that Pansy fell ill of a fever. What caused it Velvet did not know, but when the tiring woman could walk no farther and collapsed onto the road, the caravan master was for leaving her. Frantically Velvet clung to her servant, her friend. “No! I won’t let you,” she protested, her green eyes filling with tears.

Angrily, the caravan master shouted at her and tried to pull her away, but Velvet clung to Pansy like moss to a rock. “No!” She sobbed desperately, and then suddenly an idea struck her. Falling to her knees, she frantically scrabbled through the bundle Pansy had hastily packed at the governor’s palace. Finding what she sought, she stood and held it out with one hand while pointing first to Pansy and then to the cart with the other.

The caravan master’s eyes grew round with greed at the sight of the dainty, bejeweled gold mirror. There was a girl in Lahore that he was courting, and this was a finer gift than anything he could ordinarily give her. He reached for the mirror, but Velvet shook her head and pointed again at the cart. The caravan master nodded and reached out once more, but Velvet dropped again to her knees and began to draw in the dirt with her finger. Fascinated, he watched her, and when she gestured him over he knelt to see a rather crude rendition of the cart, a long road, and finally a city. When his eye had reached the end of her message, she laid the mirror down on the city portion and looked at him.

He gazed at her, wondering if he could trust her and admiring her cleverness in bargaining with him despite the language barrier. As if she sensed his thoughts, Velvet detached the filigreed gold chain she used to hang the mirror from her belt and offered it to him. Taking it from her, he nodded his agreement. The chain now, the mirror when they reached their destination, and in return the sick girl could ride in a cart. He gave the order, and Pansy was lifted from her place upon the ground and into the cart beneath which they had been sleeping at night.

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