Page 33 of The Girl from the Tea Garden (The India Tea #3)

T he Eagle’s Nest was a little piece of paradise.

Its spacious wooden villa was surrounded by verandas that gave spectacular views over the treetops in all directions – across sun-scorched south-facing slopes towards hazy Simla, and north to the forest-clad jungle of the foothills, stretching away to the jagged Himalayas.

The interiors were dark and cool, the rooms panelled in teak and the walls hung with colourful paintings– French impressionists and Persian hunting scenes– as well as photographs from tiger shoots and the Raja’s visits to the French Riviera.

There were statues of Hindu gods and goddesses, rich-patterned carpets, antique furniture and a library jammed from floor to ceiling with books.

The verandas were furnished with cane chairs, comfortable hand-embroidered cushions and ivory-inlaid tables.

All around was a profusion of potted ferns and flowers lining the verandas and steps down to sloping lawns and walkways through the trees hung with lanterns.

There were the usual dahlias, stocks and wallflowers of the British gardens, but intermingled with local species of mimosa, rhododendrons and azaleas, and all tended by an army of malis.

For two days Adela relaxed, ate and slept deeply, playing the occasional game of tennis with Jay on a lawned court and taking short walks through the forest with Fluffy.

The day before the Sipi Fair, the Raja of Nerikot arrived to stay with his entourage.

They had a long dinner, with the conversation turning to local unrest.

‘Glad to get out of Nerikot to tell you the truth,’ he said to Sanjay. ‘Wretched Mandalists are stirring things up again.’

‘Surely you will have to give up on the practice of bonded labour, won’t you?’ Fluffy challenged. ‘It’s happening in other hill states already.’

‘Perhaps.’ The Raja shrugged, seemingly at a loss.

‘Can’t have anarchy though,’ Sanjay said. ‘You have to keep a tight rein on your people– let them know who’s in charge.’

‘Yes,’ agreed the Raja, feeling encouraged. ‘I won’t be dictated to by rabble-rousers. But how do you control things when these agitators from outside stir up the crowds? Sometimes I don’t feel my family are safe at the palace.’

‘Surely it’s not that bad,’ said Adela. ‘They don’t mean you any harm– they just want a bit of democracy.’

‘What do you know about such things?’ Jay gave her a curious look.

‘Just from what I’ve read,’ Adela said quickly.

‘Well, it doesn’t concern the British.’ He gave a tight smile. ‘The princely states will do things our own way and in our own time.’ He turned to his friend. ‘If your family are threatened, then you have every right to defend them. If I can be of any help, just say the word.’

Adela felt uneasy; was Jay inciting his friend to retaliate with violence? The subject was left unresolved as they turned to talk of the Sipi Fair.

‘It’s always a jolly affair,’ the Raja said, grinning, ‘all that wife-swapping.’

‘I find it rather distasteful,’ said Fluffy, ‘to think young women can be sold off like that.’

Sanjay gave an indulgent laugh. ‘Is it so very different from the British upper class, who sell off their daughters for titles and big houses?’

‘Quite different,’ Fluffy declared. ‘Upper-class girls have a say in who they marry; these native girls are bartered like sheep.’

‘It just speeds up the transaction of marriage,’ Sanjay said. ‘The coolies living away in the towns have no time to go home and find themselves wives.’

‘But the girls have no say in it,’ said Adela. ‘When I marry, it will be for love.’

‘What a romantic you are.’ Jay smiled. ‘That’s what comes of watching too many Hollywood films at The Rivoli.’

‘No, it’s from seeing how happy my parents are. My father says he’s as in love with Mother as the day they first met. And then there’s Auntie Sophie and Rafi– they’re so happy together.’

Jay pulled a face. ‘I wonder. Rafi Khan’s family will have nothing to do with him. It puts a strain on a marriage if the families are not in agreement.’

‘His sister Fatima and brother Ghulam haven’t turned their backs on him.’

‘Ghulam Khan the radical?’ the Raja interjected.

‘Well, yes—’

‘You know him?’

Adela flushed. ‘I know of him.’

Fluffy said, ‘I’m afraid that was my fault. I went to hear him speak at the Pledge Day rally and Adela came along to keep an eye on me. Unfortunately it ended in scuffles.’

‘Of course it would,’ snorted the Raja. ‘They are hooligans who shouldn’t be allowed on our streets.’

‘You should take more care, ladies.’ Jay frowned in concern. ‘Don’t involve yourselves in communist propaganda. These are bad men intent on removing the British by force as well as overthrowing the princely states.’

Adela thought of Ghulam. He wasn’t a bad man, but he was an impatient one.

She recalled the way he had challenged her to look beyond her cosy world in Simla, how he was working eagerly for a free India without barriers of class or religious interference.

Could he be a danger to them all if he was thwarted in his goal?

If so, should she warn the Raja and Jay about him?

But to do so would be a betrayal of Fatima and be bound to get her friend into trouble.

She just hoped that the latest unrest in the hills died down and that Ghulam took his campaigning elsewhere.

She wished she could talk it over with Sam; he would have a sensible view on it all. Thinking of him made her wonder if he would travel down from Narkanda to the fair. She felt a gnawing longing for Sam. How awful it would be if she never saw him before she sailed for Britain in July.

Fluffy retired to bed. The moon was full, and Jay suggested an evening stroll in the garden.

The Raja declined. Together, Jay and Adela walked down the path as a night mist stole up from the valley, looking like a silver sea in the moonlight.

Ghostly light filtered through the trees, making bright patterns on the path.

The air was heavy with the scent of golden champa.

Reaching a garden seat set under an arch of overhanging flowering creepers, Jay indicated they should sit.

‘You were quiet at dinner. What is on your mind?’ he asked.

‘Nothing really.’

‘You mustn’t worry about all this local politics.’

‘Is the Raja’s family really in danger?’

‘He can take care of them. And I can take care of you and your guardian. You are safe from any harm here; I’ll make sure of that.’

‘I don’t worry for myself.’

‘What a remarkable girl you are.’

He lifted her hand to his lips and brushed her fingers with a kiss.

Adela felt a delicious frisson all over.

She looked into his handsome face, chiselled in the moonlight, and saw the desire in his dark eyes.

Her heart began a slow thudding. He leant closer and ran a finger from her brow down her cheek, pushing stray hair behind her ear.

He hardly touched her, but it set off tiny shocks like electricity in her chest and the pit of her stomach.

He traced the pad of his finger across her throat and collarbone, brushing the back of his hand against her breast.

She couldn’t help a sigh escape her parted lips.

Jay tilted her chin and kissed her, a soft exploratory kiss that tickled her lips.

She knew she shouldn’t encourage it, but there was something hypnotic about their secret scented bower, the ethereal light and the pulsing sound of night insects that seemed to suspend them in the moment.

It was like a romantic scene from a film.

So when he pulled her closer and kissed her with more force, she responded, their mouths opening, tasting, exploring each other.

‘You are quite beautiful, my English rose,’ he murmured, kissing his way across her face, nibbling her ear. ‘Can I come to your room tonight?’

Adela pulled back. This was going too fast.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I didn’t mean offence. I just thought ...’

Adela gulped. ‘I’m not offended, but I’m not ready ...’

‘I understand.’ He smiled. ‘You are too irresistible on such a night. But for you, Adela, I will be patient.’

She felt overwhelmed with mixed emotions: desire, trepidation, disloyalty to Sam, whom she loved, yet excitement at being wanted by this powerful, handsome prince, who ought to be far beyond her reach.

‘What do I mean to you, Jay?’ she asked. ‘I need to know.’

‘You are as desirable as the stars in the sky,’ he said. ‘I fell in love with you the moment I saw you in the dressing room in your underclothes. It’s an image I can’t get out of my head.’ He gave a sensual smile.

Adela gave a laugh of embarrassment. He was teasing her, and it helped break the spell.

‘I’m a virgin,’ she said, ‘which must be obvious to a man of the world like you. But the man I give myself to will be the man I marry. It can’t be any other way.’

His eyes widened at her boldness. For a moment he was at a loss for words.

‘Marry me then, Adela Robson,’ he said impulsively. ‘Come and live with me at Gulgat, or we can go to the South of France or London or wherever you want.’

‘Marry you? Now you are teasing me!’

‘I mean it.’

‘Surely you have a wife chosen for you already,’ she challenged.

‘I can do what I want,’ he retorted. ‘My uncle Kishan married that woman from Bombay. We’re in a changing world.’

‘I’d never be acceptable to your family, Jay.’ She laughed in disbelief.

‘Why not?’ He seized her hand. ‘I can make you the Rani of Gulgat. With you at my side, even Rafi Khan couldn’t object to my becoming the next Raja, could he?’

‘And your mother and grandmother?’

‘They will do anything to make me happy,’ Jay declared.

Adela pulled away. ‘I can’t deny I’m attracted to you– flattered by your words– but what you say is impossible.’

But the more she set up obstacles, the keener he seemed to be on the whole fantastical idea.

‘At least think about it,’ pleaded Jay. ‘I want you, Adela. I’ve never wanted anyone as much.’