Read Online Scandal of the Year by Olivia Drake - Free Book Online Page B

nearly asked James to sit down and join her. But such an act was forbidden. Who’d ever heard of a lady partaking of a meal with a servant as if they were equals? And in her bedchamber, no less!
    At least the door stood ajar. Anyone who might look in on them would see nothing out of the ordinary.
    “I shall speak to Papa,” she said. “Mayhap he can find a better place for you in his offices near the docks.”
    James shook his head. “It may be difficult to understand, Miss Crompton, but I would very much like to make my own way in the world without anyone’s help.” He paused. “However…”
    Blythe leaned forward. “Yes?”
    He strolled to the window, then turned back, looking as if he was weighing his words. “However, there is a way in which you could assist me, if it isn’t too much trouble. You could tell me about India.”
    “What did you wish to know?”
    “I’d like to learn more of the native customs, the countryside, the Englishmen who trade there, and so forth. Pray forgive me if such a task is too bothersome.”
    “No! I’m happy to help. But I scarcely know where to begin.”
    James glanced around the bedchamber. “You haven’t any Indian artifacts on display. Does that mean you disliked living there?”
    Blythe had never really noticed there was nothing of her old life in the elegant blue-and-white bedchamber. “No, Mama oversaw the decoration of this room. I’m afraid she never cared much for India. But I liked it very much. It was all I knew for the first fifteen years of my life.”
    How clearly she recalled the hot, earthy, colorful chaos of India. There had been ash-covered madmen, half-naked beggars, cobras and tigers and elephants. Strange, she’d once thought England to be much more exotic than the familiar trappings of her youth. Mama had always spoken of London as being a place of refined elegance where the nobility attended parties and balls, where style and grace reigned supreme. It had all sounded so wonderful, like something out of a fairy tale.…
    Blythe realized that James stood patiently waiting for her to continue. “I suppose you could say that India is a place of great extremes. In the heat of summer, it never, ever rains. But in the monsoon season, the showers pour in torrents for days on end. I would sit on the porch while sheets of rain came down, reading with my sisters or playing with one of our pets.”
    “What sort of animals did you keep?”
    “Usually a monkey or a cockatoo. I had a lemur once, too, with a beautiful long tail and a glossy coat that I liked to comb.” Blythe smiled at the memory. “But one day it escaped its cage and made a puddle inside one of Mama’s hats. She bade the mali return it to the jungle. I cried for days.”
    “ Mali ?”
    “The gardener. You will need to study the language, of course. Many of the English never bother to learn Hindi, but Papa did. He always said it gave him superior bargaining power when trading with the maharajahs.”
    “Maharajah … isn’t that a king?”
    “Yes, but unlike England, there are many maharajahs, each one ruling over a particular region. They’re fabulously wealthy, often wearing rubies and diamonds the size of eggs. My sister Portia very nearly married the son of a maharajah herself.”
    James picked up the teapot and refilled Blythe’s cup. “I cannot imagine your parents would be agreeable to her wedding a native, no matter how many rubies and diamonds he might own.”
    “Yes, Mama was extremely angry when she found out they were sweet on each other. That’s how she convinced Papa to move here from India in the first place. She said it was past time that my sisters and I returned to civilization.”
    Sipping the tea, Blythe recalled how envious she’d been when Arun had traveled all the way from India to London to seek her sister’s hand in marriage. But Portia had fallen in love with Viscount Ratcliffe, and Arun returned to his native land, whereupon he had taken a Hindu