Page 41 of A Shimla Affair
‘It’s very nice to meet you,’ she said, blinking and smiling, and I couldn’t tell whether she meant it or not. Perhaps she was trying to gauge how much respect to accord to me; perhaps she was confused about why I was here at The Cecil.
‘So, what brings you to Shimla?’ I asked her, fighting to keep my tone polite.
Eliza gave Charles a momentary glance, and its meaning was clear: like the other British women who arrived in Shimla, she too was in search of a husband.
‘Adventure,’ she replied with a giggle, ‘and trade, honestly. There is big demand back in England for Indian handicrafts and, like a modern woman, I have decided to try my hand at making my fortune.’
Charles smiled at her and I felt betrayed. He was already dazzled by this thrill-seeking Englishwoman who dared sail to India and dreamt of making a fortune. Perhaps all our shared moments—all that he had written and said to me—had never been as special for him as they had been for me. Or maybe he had realized that I was unsuitable for him, and the veneer of my appeal had disappeared from his eyes.
‘So, is Eliza the special guest for whom the Shimla borders are closed?’ I asked with a forced smile. I wasn’t stupid—of course I knew she wasn’t the guest, I was fishing for the identity of the real visitor.
‘Oh no,’ Charles said, ‘She is absolutely a special guest, but the city didn’t shut for her. Actually, even I don’t know who this person coming from England is, and why he will be here. It’s to be a top-secret meeting.’
It was strange that he didn’t know and disappointing that he couldn’t tell me more, but I was more annoyed by the fact that he called Eliza special.
‘Nalini, I wanted to ask you,’ Charles said, ‘Could you help Eliza a bit? Maybe take her to the Lower Bazaar and meet some artisans, help her with the language … she’s still very new so it would be stressful for her to go there alone for the first time. Didn’t you introduce me to this woman at the hotel, at your Oriental Bazaar? Does she make the crafts on her own? I can’t for the life of me remember her name.’
I was about to rebuke Charles for putting me in this position—why should I help his future wife make money by exploiting artisans in Shimla? Of course I could not helpher. Charles was free to have any sort of relationship with Eliza, but I would not be a part of their artificial love story. But then, something struck me.
‘Are you talking about Begum Jaan?’ I asked him.
‘Yes, she’s the one! Doesn’t she make the best handicrafts in Shimla? That’s what you had said, and I trust your opinion, so I assumed you’d be able to get Eliza to her.’
‘Oh wonderful!’ Eliza clapped her hands. ‘I would love to meet her and discuss some trade, see what she makes, and how fast she can supply.’
I stared at them. ‘It’s true she’s the best … but she is rather preoccupied for the moment. It’s horrible, they put her in prison, just for some petty reason! But Charles, if you can put in a word, I think it would really help the poor woman and Eliza at the same time.’
‘I’ll see what I can do,’ Charles said in a thoughtful tone.
I smiled at Eliza, and she smiled at Charles.
This might be the end of our romance, but the battle for India was just beginning.
15
In a cute, picturesque cottage perched on the path leading up to Prospect Hill lived Lady Sinclair with her nine servants, a brother, who divided his time between Lucknow and Shimla, and two dogs. I presumed she wasn’t very young, but she looked radiant anyway, her blonde curls done up in the latest fashion, her summer frock flapping around her knees, and the hat on her head tipping at an appropriate angle to the right. She, Begum Jaan claimed, was the mistress of the Viceroy, a secret known only to five other people in town and maybe in all the world.
On the urging of Eliza May to Charles, Begum Jaan was released, and in return, as promised, Eliza would be shown Begum Jaan’s best handicrafts. It was decided that I would accompany Eliza during one of Begum Jaan’s regular visits to Lady Sinclair’s cottage.
I was hesitant to go and play the guide, but Begum Jaan’s declaration of Lady Sinclair’s sordid personal matters erased my reluctance, and even Afreen came along to the cottage. As much as I wanted nothing to do with Eliza, I had to swallow my bitterness and feign interest at the little jewellery boxes and napkin holders that Begum Jaan presented, that Eliza wouldsurely buy with very little money and sell for an obscene number of pounds back in England.
For a widow who had no position in society except her brother’s appointment in Lucknow, Lady Sinclair lived rather well. One of the servants fanned her constantly, while the other brought us lemonade, and waited on us.
‘Nalini,’ Eliza said grossly mispronouncing my name, although she had said it fine when Charles had been there. ‘Could you make sure we get a fair price?’
I smiled sweetly at her; of course, I would make sure she gets a fair price. A price that was fair to Begum Jaan. Eliza and Lady Sinclair kept picking up the handicrafts with their dainty fingers, throwing them on the side if they didn’t take a fancy to them, keeping them near themselves if they did. Eliza also kept telling us all how important it was that she order enough handicrafts to be able to make a good profit off them, but also not too much. She wanted to retain the handmade quality about them, making them appear one of a kind and hard to come by.
Afreen nudged me when another servant girl appeared and stood near us, preparing a roll of tobacco for Lady Sinclair. The girl kept her head down, covered as it were by the edge of her sari. I caught a whiff of hashish and looked meaningfully at Afreen, who too had not missed it. So that’s what Lady Sinclair was smoking, perhaps even with the Viceroy. Begum Jaan, from her squatting position, could not stop staring at the servant girl, barely able to keep her mouth closed.
‘Is there a problem?’ Lady Sinclair asked, and Begum Jaan shook her head quickly.
Eliza appeared quite shocked at Lady Sinclair’s brazen smoking of hashish and turned to us instead, prattling about her future trade. Was Charles already in love with her? I could not deny that she was beautiful, and with her talk of building her business, she seemed to harbour ambitions. He would be happywith her, I told myself, and the thought settled like a stone at the pit of my stomach.
‘We hope you can make it to our ball, Lady Sinclair,’ Afreen said. ‘We’d be ever so honoured. It is one of Shimla’s most exciting events, and it would be lovely if you could be there.’
If our problem was the Viceroy, then perhaps the key to that problem was Lady Sinclair. How could this key be turned? Was it just an affair, or were they in love? Would he move mountains for her? Would he die for her?
Lady Sinclair tried to act like she was above Afreen’s entreaties. However, my guess was that she could not bear to see the Viceroy attending the ball with his wife. We were giving her a bait: stand next to the Viceroy and dance in the arms of another man, let jealousy burn him. If she loved him, she would take it. And sure enough, she nodded uncaringly. ‘Perhaps I could pass by … mind you, I prefer a quiet evening with a glass of wine.’
