Jay whistled to himself as he headed to the kitchen, giving Anita's dog a mock growl when he saw it watching him warily out of the corner of its eyes. It had tucked itself in a corner of the room, and Jay left it alone as he helped himself to a handful of tin biscuits.
He was munching on the second one, wondering where in hell Anita was -- she hadn't been where he'd left her -- when he heard the rear gate give a loud squeak. He pushed the curtain above the sink aside to see Anita dashing across the backyard.
It was just a hunch that made him feel that something wasn't quite right. Frowning, he pushed away from the sink and made for the servant's quarters. He caught her just as she was about to enter her room. Immediate concern rode high on his mind when he noticed that her cheeks were tear-streaked and that her eyes were red from crying. He wanted to ask her what was wrong, but she pushed away from him and turned away with a hitch of her breath. When she shut the door behind her, he could hear her soft sobs from where he stood, with his hand hovering uncertainly over the doorknob.
It was a shock when he felt something wild and untamed take over his body. If someone had deliberately hurt her, he was going to drag them through hell.
*
He managed to give her an hour. He simply couldn't leave her be. It nibbled at his conscience, bit at his soul and completely swallowed all other thought. He sat at the kitchen table -- tapping out an impatient rhythm on the hardwood -- for the first five minutes. Then he paced the floors for the other fifty-five minutes before he couldn't live with the nervous energy and rapped lightly on her door.
There was no response. He hadn't expected any. He pushed the door in slightly and peered into the room. She was seated with her legs crossed on the bed, staring into mid-air. Even as he entered the room, she didn't acknowledge his presence. He sat on the edge of her bed and laid his palm over her hand. She jerked in his grasp, and something rolled to the floor.
He bent to retrieve it; a little blue box. It took only an instant for him to guess what would be inside it. Shards of ice pierced his skin.
When he looked up, she was staring at him with grief visible in her eyes.
"Did you say yes?" The question nearly lodged himself in his throat, but he needed to ask it. It wouldn't be right if he didn't.
She shook her head slowly.
His relief was so immense that it made him feel almost weak. He gathered her in his arms and held her closely, tightly, until she began to squirm. But she didn't protest, merely burrowed into his comforting warmth and scent.
It was quite a while later when she finally spoke.
"He wanted to marry me. Despite everything, he wanted me marry me, Jay."
He didn't bother asking who she was referring to. His fingers stroked her hair gingerly. "I'm glad you didn't say yes."
"I couldn't. If he'd asked me years ago, I might have said yes. But now... I just couldn't."
He ran a hand over her wet cheek.
"I dreamt of marrying him once. Having a husband to myself and a houseful of children."
"When did that dream change?"
Her eyes rose to his, but they weren't filled with contempt as he thought they would be. She didn't accuse him of ruining her future, as Meera had put it, but gave him a small smile instead.
"When he got married to another woman. Now I'm content with what I have," she said, then pressed a lingering kiss to his heart.
He repressed a shudder that her kiss caused before he held her again.
She told him what had happened with Sami. She knew he became angry because he held himself rigid for the most part of her speech, but she assured him that Sami had not harmed her, soothing him until the tension drained out of his body. Then he pulled her up, wrapped her hands around his neck and simply kissed her for the longest time.
*
Two days, he'd told her. Only two days before the first ship for England sets sail. Without much hesitation, she'd told him she'd like to be on it.
The interlude with Sami held her spirits down. She thought of him constantly, hating herself for the grief she'd caused him. He was such a wonderful man, and he'd told her he loved her. He would treat her very well if only she'd said yes.
Anita sighed as she washed the dinner plates. It was pointless thinking about Sami. In the end, she'd never agree to marry him because he was already married to a perfectly lovely wife. She didn't have the selfishness necessary to break up a family.
There might be another reason as to why she didn't want to marry Sami, but she didn't dare think about it. To do so would be to make herself extremely vulnerable to matters of the heart, and she didn't need the extra emotional grief over the one she was experiencing already.
"What are you sighing about?" Nanthini, who was drying plates beside her, asked.
Anita looked up from her washing, staring at the other maid. Her expression was curious, but there was a subtle hint of something else in her voice -- hope, perhaps? Was she hoping to glean a bit of information to gossip amongst her friends? Anita sighed again.
"Nothing," she replied, handing the last clean plate to the older woman.
"Well, if you'd like to talk to someone, I'm always here."
I'm sure you are
, Anita thought to herself, but thanked the woman instead.
Later that night, after the house was locked up and quiet, Anita sat in the small tub, letting the warm water soothe her. The clean scent of soap floated around her, drugging her senses.
He didn't knock, but she knew he was there. She wanted him to be there. He wrapped her in her threadbare towel and carried her to her room, shutting the door behind him. She didn't allow him to leave her as he set her down on the bed, pressing her lips to his before he could move away. Her fingers rose to fiddle impatiently with the buttons on his shirt, but he caught her fingers and pinned both her hands over her head as he had his way with her.
It was a passionate, quiet loving. Anita felt his every touch, every kiss so keenly that nothing escaped her but quick, breezy sighs and breathy pleas. Jay, on the other hand, didn't say a word, but was driven heavily by her response. His fingers were gentle, almost loving, but underlying all that was desperation. His fingers trembled slightly, but it was dark and Anita didn't notice. He almost lost her today, he thought, kissing her navel. He'd almost lost her to another man.
Anita sighed as he kissed the inner skin of her thighs, making her sensitive skin break out in little pinpricks. Her fingers tangled in his hair as he made himself comfortable between her legs.
I'm not letting you go, Jay vowed as desire pulsed through his body at the sight of her femininity, wet and ready for him. He placed a light kiss on the sensitive nub at the juncture of her thighs and she tilted her hips towards his mouth for more. Oh yes, he vowed again. He was not going to give her up for a long, long while.
*
The next afternoon as Anita was washing the dirty plates from lunch, Meera came through the backdoor, her hands loaded with a large wooden trunk. The trunk was obviously heavy, for Meera took mincing steps as she walked across the backyard. Anita quickly rinsed her hands in the clean water before rushing to the back door to help her sister.
"No, no, I'm fine," Meera protested when Anita wanted to take the weight off Meera's hands. "I've carried it this far. What's a few more steps?"
Reluctantly, Anita let go and Meera walked the few steps to her bedroom and set the trunk on the floor by the bed. Then she let out a loud groan and rubbed the base of her back. Anita clucked her tongue, watching her sister. She could have hurt herself carrying such heavy things.
"Well, aren't you going to ask what's inside it?" Meera asked after her sister had finished her worrywart's speech. She was too excited by her find to pay much attention to her sister's worries.
Anita rolled her eyes at her sister. Meera would never learn that her safety came first before anything else. She sighed. "What is it?" she asked dutifully.
Meera's smile was gleeful as she knelt and opened the lid on the chest. She pulled a garment out of it and exclaimed, "Clothes, 'ka! To wear in England!"
Anita knelt next to her sister. She reached in and pulled out a pretty blue dress. "Where did you get this? Did you buy it?"
Meera laughed as she rifled through the clothes in the trunk. "I went down to the port today and found these at an unbelievably low price. It's a good thing I saved all the shillings you gave me. This is a wonderful purchase! And the trunk was free!"
Anita pulled out a white dress and frowned at the length of it. "The dress is too short, Meera. Neither of us will be able to wear it."
Meera took the dress from her sister and laid it against her body. "It's the fashion these days, 'ka. The dress is meant to be short."
Anita's eyes widened. "That's indecent!"
Meera laughed at her sister's expression. "I'm not asking you to wear them. There are a few full skirts in here that I'm sure you'd like, though."
Anita took the dress back from her sister. "You're not going to wear this dress too, Meera. Your legs can be seen! It's obscene."
Meera shrugged. "That's all right. I have nice legs."
Anita frowned. "Meera. I'm not comfortable with you wearing things like this."
Meera groaned, snatched the dress back from her sister and stuffed it into the trunk. "Fine," she grumbled. "But if it's the fashion in England, I'm going to wear it too. It's not indecent if others are wearing it too."
Anita conceded. "I guess when you're one in many you won't stand out."
Meera pulled a tan skirt out of the trunk, followed by a collared white blouse. She handed it to her sister. "Here. You might like this."
Anita took the clothes from her sister and laid it against herself. Indeed, she did like it. The skirt was long and reached her ankles and the blouse was equally proper.
"Go ahead. Try it on," Meera urged, giving her sister her back.
