Arjun came and stood at my side, but I stiffened. “Beautiful,” he said.
When I turned, he was looking me. I lowered my gaze in shame. How could he stare at me like that and want another woman as his wife? It was no one’s fault but my own. I had allowed it, encouraged it even. I held my chin high, but the pain in my chest felt as if it would crush me. “Yes,” I said and walked away. I joined Major Wilkes on the other side of the ship, and tried to look as if it were wind, not tears, in my eyes.
“December in England,” he said as I joined him. Just as he had in the port of Madras, he inhaled. England had a particular smell for him, the same as Barwa Sagar had for me. I believe this is how it is for all men who serve abroad. Their lives are full of waiting to go home, and after ten, twenty, even thirty years in a foreign country, they never truly feel at peace in their souls. “I have no idea what we’re doing in Jhansi,” he said to me, opening his eyes. “Or why any Englishman would even want to live there. No one wants you to convince our queen to leave India more than I do. Though I’d deny it if anyone said as much.”
I studied the major’s face, and he seemed to be in earnest.
He inhaled again as the ship docked, and I did the same, trying to smell what he did. But my thoughts returned to Arjun. How could he share books with me and practice yoga and then say he hoped to find a bride? I gulped the air, trying to clear my head. The cold wind was heavy with the scents of brine and the sea. It carried with it the sounds of the dock, crowded with merchants, sailors, and travelers disembarking from other ships. It was impossible to know what to look at first. All the carriages with their passengers in pretty bonnets and top hats, or the sailors who hurried to arrange the gangplank?
We stepped off the pier onto solid ground and I kept close to Jhalkari. It wasn’t fair to let Arjun see how much I hurt. He’d never made any declarations of love to me; never once mentioned marriage or how things might have been different. I let the new sights and sounds overwhelm me, and the twelve of us huddled together on the busy pier until Major Wilkes joined us by announcing, “We’ll be taking four carriages to London. It’s going to be a long journey.”
We wrapped ourselves in the fur cloaks the rani had gifted us, then sat four to a carriage. Jhalkari seated herself next to me, and with the soft ermine fur brushing her cheeks, she looked like the rani. We would probably never own such luxury again even if we lived another hundred lives. Across from us, Arjun and Wilkes took their seats. They pressed their backs against the soft velvet of the carriage, and I wondered if all Englishmen traveled this way. Then I thought of Arjun with a young wife from the city and my stomach felt tight again. It was a feeling I would have to learn to live with. He had never made any promises to me. I was the one who had been foolish.
“You’re going to be quite amazed when we reach London,” the major said.
But as the carriages lurched forward, we were already amazed.
The hills of England rolled on forever, dotted by churches and pretty stone villages. The major had closed the windows, but I could still smell the rich scent of burning wood as we traveled along. We passed through several crowded cities, and the noise reminded me of Jhansi. Women walked as freely as men, some even commanding carriages. They rode horses wearing skirts and sitting sideways; they laughed with their mouths open, showing their teeth like hyenas. But most outrageous: they wore dresses that displayed more than half of their bosoms.
“Did Mrs. McEgan explain to you about the queen’s court?” the major asked as we rode.
“Yes.” Unlike the rani, the queen only allowed certain members of society to be presented. Military men, religious men, physicians, lawyers, and any of their wives, were all acceptable. But businessmen, merchants, and their families—however wealthy—were not welcome. Did the Queen of England know that Jhalkari and I had been born in a village, and that Jhalkari was a Dalit, no less?
“Then I assume you know that once we arrive, the queen will decide when to receive you. It may be today, it may be another day. Until then, enjoy the sights.”
How can I explain to you the excitement of seeing London for the first time? Everywhere we looked, there were women—barefaced, laughing, drinking cups of tea. Even with the bitter wind, their hats towered above them, all lace trim and feathers, like birds wanting to be seen. We passed Hyde Park where handsome couples walked children and tiny dogs. In Jhansi, such a park would be in daily use for weddings. Here, there was not a single wedding celebration to be seen.
“There goes Park Lane,” the major said as we rode. “Those are the most fashionable houses in London.”
A dozen families in Barwa Sagar could live in a house meant for a single family.
“And there is Fortnum and Mason, the grocer to the queen.”