No one could see the harm in stopping to enjoy a good meal, and one by one, the team piled into the motorcar. As soon as they were settled, the motor sped off down the dirt road.
It turned at the gate of the great plantation, rattling toward the whitewashed main house. Away from the tea fields, the grounds were neatly clipped and meticulously maintained, leading up to the columned veranda that wrapped around the home. The motor stopped at the front steps, and an Indian footman stepped off the porch to help them out of the automobile.
The man driving peeled off his dusty motoring gloves and held out his hands to Linley’s father. “I apologize for not introducing myself earlier. Frank Howard.” He gestured to the woman beside him. “This is my wife, Madeline, and her sister, Adeline, but we call her Ada to avoid any confusion.”
He smiled. Linley thought he smelled like gin.
Her father handled the introductions, and Mr. Howard led them all onto the veranda. A wicker table and chairs sat in the far corner, laid out with a tea service and every kind of teacake and treat Linley could imagine. She took a seat, almost sitting on her hands to keep from reaching for a treacle tart. Plus, Madeline Howard was staring at her.
“What a pretty young thing you are!” Mrs. Howard said. “Frank, don’t you think she’s adorable?”
Her husband looked up and smiled. “Adorable!”
“You must be very excited to be in India,” she continued. “Is this your first visit?”
Linley shook her head, waiting for her hostess to hurry up and pour the tea. “No, ma’am. I lived in Calcutta when I was a very little girl.”
“And where do you live now?”
Accepting the teacup from Mrs. Howard, Linley took a sip, thinking how to best answer her question. “I suppose I don’t live in any one particular place,” she said. “My father and I travel extensively.”
“How fortunate you are!” Madeline Howard said. “I traveled before my marriage.” She turned in her seat to face her sister. “Remember our trips, Ada?”
Ada nodded. “The great highlight of my life.”
Mrs. Howard spun back toward Linley. “Ada laments being stuck here in India,” she explained. “But you see, my husband has quite a lucrative tea business, and it is imperative we spend most of our time seeing to that business…since it is how we keep such a nice home and can afford to buy pretty new things.”
Linley sat silent, thinking she’d somehow found herself in the middle of a thinly veiled argument between the two sisters. She took a treacle tart from the tray and tilted her head to hear the gentlemen’s conversation.
“…There can be no question of you staying in the village,” Mr. Howard told her father. “You will sleep here until the railway is back in working order.”
Sir Bedford shook his head. “We could not intrude on your hospitality.”
“Nonsense! We will be glad to have the company.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Linley bathed and changed into her clean shirt for dinner. She knew the Howards would understand, but she couldn’t help frowning at her shabby appearance. It took three washings to get all the dirt out of her hair, which was still damp at the ends. Her cotton shirt was open at the collar, the sleeves pushed up to her elbows, and the ends tucked into a wrinkled linen skirt. Her boots—well, her boots were just too horrendous for words.
She tramped downstairs and found her way to the dining room. Even though they lived in the middle of nowhere, the Howards were obviously fond of nice things. Their plates were gilt-edged, their flatware of the finest silver, and even their stemware was crystal, not cut glass.
“Everything was imported directly from London,” Mrs. Howard explained. “We enjoy all the comforts our station in life affords us, even in the colonies!”
An Indian servant came around the table, pouring wine from a large crystal decanter into the glasses. He wore the traditional clothing of an Indian, but the spotless white gloves of an English footman. The man never spoke, seeming to move about the room with the silence of a shadow.
He disappeared through a curtained doorway, returning only to serve each course and refill glasses. Mr. and Mrs. Howard spared no expense on the quality of their food, either, and Linley’s mouth watered over mulligatawny soup, curried beef tongue, and rice.