Tea and Spices (An Erotic Novel of Colonial India) (26 page)

 
“Yes, I have wonderful parents. They’re both alive and living in Tunbridge Wells. My father is a retired professor.”

 
“What did he teach?”

 
“English literature. Hence, I was brought up with Shakespeare and Chaucer.”

 
“Two decent enough chaps to be brought up with.”

 
Devora smiled. “Yes, that’s very true.”

 
“You live in London now?”

 
“I did before I moved here,” Devora said. “I miss it sometimes, especially the coolness and the fog. I do love the fog. It makes everything very mysterious and soft-edged. In India, the sun is so hot and strong. It seems to expose every tiny detail, illuminating things that would perhaps be better left hidden.”

 
Rohan didn’t reply, but Devora could sense him looking at her. She wrapped her arms around herself and gazed towards the man standing in the river. He began to chant, his cryptic words rising on the mild breeze. His arms lifted with graceful movements as he bathed in the holy waters. There was a strange beauty in his isolated devotion.

 
“Would you like to see the temple?” Rohan asked.

 
Devora looked at the worshipper for a moment longer. “No, I don’t think so. I don’t wish to disturb him.”

 
“You will not. People worship on the
ghats
all the time.”

 
Devora shook her head. She couldn’t imagine intruding upon the man’s piety, if only through her presence. “No, it’s all right. I’ll come back some other time.”

 
She turned and started back to the car. Rohan followed, reaching out to open the car door for her. Just before she got into the car, Devora glanced at him. He was looking at her so intently that she was surprised.

 
“What?”

 
Rohan shook his head, his lips curving into a slight smile. “I find you to be very intriguing,
memsahib
.”

 
“Is that a good thing?” Devora asked.

 
“Yes, I think so.”

 
Swiftly, he bent his head and brushed his lips over hers in the lightest, most delicious movement. A hundred butterflies took flight in Devora’s soul. She responded with a rush of affection, enchanted by the silent holiness of their surroundings and the pure spontaneity of his kiss.

 
She pulled back to look at him. “What was that for?”

 
Rohan’s dark eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled at her again. Devora’s heart swelled. That smile of his affected her like nothing ever had before, perhaps because it was so beautiful and so rare.

 
“You have an old soul,
memsahib
.”

 
“What does that mean?”

 
“You have a soul that has been reincarnated many times on earth,” Rohan explained. “It means you possess a deep understanding of many of life’s mysteries.”

 
Devora wasn’t certain of that at all, but the idea was captivating. “That’s lovely,” she said. “Thank you.”

 
He put his palm against her cheek for a brief instant before moving away. Devora climbed into the car, realizing that something quite powerful had just happened between them. Rohan closed the door and got into the driver’s seat. He started the car and guided it back onto the main road towards the enclave of British-owned bungalows.

 
They fell silent for the remainder of the ride, but Devora occasionally felt Rohan’s enigmatic, mirrored gaze on her as if it were a reflection of herself.

***

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

 
“Gerald will be gone for three days,” Devora said. “Please?”

 
“This is a very bad idea.” Rohan picked up a broom and carefully urged a lizard back out onto the veranda.

 
Devora noticed that he didn’t say no. “Why is it a bad idea? No one will find out.”

 
“You are naive to think so,” Rohan said. “You know your fellow British.”

 
“Yes, but they don’t come to visit every single day,” Devora replied. “Besides, I just had them over for tea earlier this afternoon, so they should leave me alone tomorrow.”

 
“It is highly improper for a British woman to travel with an Indian man.”

 
“We won’t be traveling
with
each other,” Devora persisted. “We’ll just be in the same car.”

He gave her a derisive look. “There is a difference?”

 
“Yes, if we pretend you’re simply the driver.” She approached him and reached out to put her hand on his arm. “If we leave before dawn, no one will see us go. From what I understand, it should take us a few hours to reach Agra. We can spend the day there and return in the evening. We won’t even have to stay there overnight.”

 
“
Memsahib
, I find you to be most maddening.”

 
Devora chuckled. “So I’ve gathered.”

 
She took the broom out of his hand and tossed it aside, then wrapped her arms around his waist. “Don’t you think it would be fun, just the two of us? And I would love to get away from here for awhile.”

 
Rohan shook his head, but reached up to brush a lock of hair from her forehead in a tender gesture that almost surprised her. “You are much too headstrong, do you know that?”

 
Devora gave him a cheeky smile and let her hands drift down to his buttocks. “But you like me that way.”

 
She tilted her head to look up at him, her gaze drifting over the sharp planes of his face and the square set of his jaw. And those eyes. How she loved his eyes, coal-black and filled with hidden fire and mystery.

 
“I’ve been wanting to see Agra since I first arrived,” she continued, pressing her pelvis lightly against his. “Don’t make me go with the Thompsons on one of their boring outings.”

 
“There is the matter of Kalindi and Lota.”

 
“Tomorrow is Kalindi’s day off,” Devora said. “As for Lota, we’ll give her the day off as well. I’m sure she and Kalindi will find some way to occupy their time.”

 
“They will become suspicious.”

 
Devora thought of the manner in which the two women were certain to occupy their time off. She smiled. “I don’t think they will. Even if they do, they won’t say anything for fear of being dismissed. And I do so want to see the Taj Mahal.”

 
Rohan rested his palm against the side of her face. “Your husband can take you.”

“When? He’s always off on tours or census-taking. Besides, I don’t want to go with him. I want to go with you.”

 
Rohan was quiet for a moment. “We are making a mistake.”

“Does that mean we’re going?”

 
“All right. I will take you to see the Taj Mahal.”

 
“Oh, thank you!” Devora hugged him tightly and stood on tiptoe to press a kiss against his cheek. “We’ll have a lovely time. I just know it.”

 
Thrilled, she hurried into her bedroom to pack a bag for their journey tomorrow. Finally, she was going to see the famous mausoleum! And not only would she not have to tolerate her compatriots, but she would have Rohan all to herself for an entire day.

 
After packing a few things, she went into the kitchen where Lota was busy scrubbing laundry in a pot of soapy water.

 
“Lota, you don’t have to come here tomorrow,” Devora said. “I’ll be going out for the day, so there’s no need for you to work.”

 
“Really? Thank you,
memsahib
!” Lota’s bright eyes sparkled with pleasure. “Will you be returning to the maharaja’s palace?”

 
Devora frowned. “Heavens, no. Whatever gave you that idea?”

 
“Oh, forgive me if I offend you, but you have been spending some time with him.”

 
“Yes, well, I won’t be in the future.”

 
Lota nodded. “That is a wise choice. We have heard that he is a wicked man.”

 
“Yes, I’ve heard that too,” Devora muttered. “I’ll be going on an outing with a friend tomorrow. You and Kalindi can spend the day together.”

A flush rose to color Lota’s cheeks as she quickly turned her attention back to the laundry. “Thank you.”

 
Devora thought briefly of telling the younger woman that she had nothing to be embarrassed about, then decided against it. For all she knew, Lota had also been one of Gerald’s mistresses in her absence.

 
That evening, Devora ate a light supper alone and went to bed early, leaving the curtains open so the sun would wake her. Instead, she woke to the touch of a male hand.

 
“
Memsahib
, wake up.” Rohan’s low voice spoke in her ear. “We must leave soon.”

“Mmm.” Devora hugged the pillow against her, trying to wipe away the threads of sleep. “I’m getting up.”

 
“You have fifteen minutes,” Rohan ordered gently. After a brief hesitation, he bent and brushed a kiss against her cheek.

 
Devora’s lips curved into a smile as she heard him leave the room. She pulled herself out of bed and washed quickly before dressing in a green, cotton dress and matching shoes. As the rumble of the car engine sounded from outside, she grabbed her hat and hurried out to the front porch.

 
“Maybe waking up before dawn wasn’t the best idea.” Devora yawned and patted her lips as she watched Rohan unlock the car door. He looked almost annoyingly handsome this morning, dressed in black trousers, a tie, and a crisp, white shirt. Devora thought it was rather unfair that he didn’t appear the slightest bit rumpled, even at five in the morning.

 
“Can’t we at least have a cup of tea?” she asked as she descended the steps.

 
“Not if you intend to visit Agra and return this evening,” Rohan replied. He held open the back door.

 
“I don’t want to sit in the back,” Devora said. “I’ll sit in the front with you.”

 
“You know that is not-”

 
“Oh, stop it,” Devora groaned. She climbed into the front seat, hearing Rohan mutter something to himself in Hindi as he went to lock the bungalow door.

 
“Here. It appears as if you need this.” Rohan got behind the wheel and handed Devora a small, silver flask.

 
Devora’s eyes widened. “Rohan, I hope you’re not in the habit of drinking at the crack of dawn.”

 
Amusement flashed in his eyes as he started the engine. “Nothing sinful, if that is your concern.”

 
Devora twisted the cap off the flask and sniffed cautiously at the contents. “Tea?”

 
“It should still be warm.” He gestured to a small bag at Devora’s feet. “There are cups and a box of biscuits in the bag.”

 
“How thoughtful of you.” Devora poured them both cups of tea. “You always surprise me, Rohan.”

 
“For the better or worse?”

“Both,” Devora admitted. She settled against the seat, appreciating the fact that for once she could ride in the car and look at his handsome profile rather than the back of his head. “You know, I didn’t like you one bit when I first arrived.”

 
“I suspected as much.”

 
“I thought you were arrogant and extremely pompous, not to mention just plain strange.”

 
“Do go on,” Rohan said dryly.

 
“Oh, I’ve changed my mind about you.” Devora gave him a sly smile and reached out to rest her hand on his thigh. “Even Mrs. Thompson would change her mind about Indians if she knew you the way I do.”

 
“Please. It is too early for lascivious thoughts about Mrs. Thompson.” Rohan eased the car onto the main road and headed north toward Agra. “Come to think of it, there is never a right time for lascivious thoughts about Mrs. Thompson.”

 
Devora grinned. “So tell me something, Rohan.”

 
“Yes?”

 
“Am I the first white woman you’ve ever had an affair with?”

 
He glanced at her, his expression unreadable. “And you ask me this for what reason?”

 
Devora shrugged and began opening the box of biscuits. “Curiosity. If you’ve been working for the British since you were fifteen, it seems to me that you’d have plenty of opportunities with British women.”