The Scarlet Kimono (Choc Lit) (3 page)

In a last act of defiance Hannah slammed the door as hard as she could, then leaned against the wall outside rubbing absently at her new bruise. She clenched her fists in impotent fury.

‘Why?’ she whispered. ‘Why does she always have things her way?’ She knew that it went against God’s commandments, but in that moment she hated her sister as never before.

And Ezekiel Hesketh? Surely her parents could never contemplate such an alliance? The man may be a widower and a respected lawyer, but he had five badly brought up children and was old enough to be Hannah’s father. Well, almost. Hannah shuddered violently and began to run down the stairs as if all the demons of hell were after her.

‘I won’t marry him,’ she muttered. ‘They can’t make me.’

But she knew that they could.

Chapter Two

Northern Japan, June 1611

The Lady Hasuko Takaki was unbelievably exquisite and Taro Kumashiro couldn’t take his eyes off her as she walked slowly towards him.

Small and dainty, his wife-to-be held herself with a grace that looked effortless, although he knew it must have taken her years to perfect. From her tiny steps to the way she unfurled her fan, she was the epitome of a lady of high birth. However, the intricate hair style, the combs made of finest gilded lacquer and even the costly scarlet
kimono
all paled in comparison to the lady herself.

She was quite simply breathtaking.

He continued to stare at her as she approached, resisting a sudden impulse to leap up and run towards her, which would have been unthinkable. Her long, pale neck, as willowy as that of a crane, rose from the collar of her robe and her eyes were luminous and just the right shape. In fact, he couldn’t find a single fault with her and he had to stop a huge grin from spreading across his features as he contemplated his good fortune.

Not only was Lady Hasuko personable, she brought him many other advantages. More land and wealth, as well as connections to some of the most powerful families in the north. In truth, those were the things he had wanted most when he made this alliance, but he now realised there would be so much more. He was a very lucky man.

As Hasuko advanced down the length of the castle’s Great Hall, he stopped noticing their surroundings and didn’t hear any of the whispered comments all around him. Her father walked a few steps ahead of her, dressed in rich blue silk with fiery red and yellow dragons embroidered all over, but Taro only had eyes for Hasuko. The bride, her family and their retainers came to a halt in front of the dais and bowed. First Hasuko’s father – the merest inclination of the head indicating his high status – then the lady herself, and finally the rest of the group. Taro had to suppress a frown when he noticed that Hasuko’s head didn’t sink any lower than her father’s. She was supposed to show deference to her future husband, but perhaps she thought them equals on this, their wedding day? He decided not to comment on her action, but to let it pass this once. He didn’t want to spoil the occasion.

‘Welcome to my home.’ Taro stood up and returned their bows, then formal greetings were exchanged according to ancient ritual.

He went through the motions as if in a dream while Hasuko kept her eyes modestly downcast, like any properly brought up young lady. When he was given permission to exchange a few words with her at last, she looked up at him for the briefest of moments and he drew in a sharp breath. She was even more stunning at close quarters. He smiled and beckoned her to a seat. She scurried past him quickly and knelt on a soft cushion, tucking her hands into the sleeve of her deep red
kimono
.

‘Lady Hasuko, it’s a pleasure to meet you at last,’ he said, willing her to look at him again.

‘And you,’ she murmured and gave him another quick glance. He noticed her expression was carefully neutral, showing none of her feelings. This, too, was only right and proper, but he could have wished for some sign that the marriage wasn’t repugnant to her. That she found him attractive enough. Not that it mattered. It was a marriage for the mutual benefit of both families, nothing else, but still …

‘I hope you’ll be very comfortable here,’ he continued. ‘My people will do their utmost to see to your every need.’

‘I’m sure they will.’ Her gaze was still firmly fixed to the floor. Taro was beginning to wonder whether she was truly shy or just reticent because it was their first meeting. He curbed his frustration, convinced that either way she would soon relax in his company.

To give her time to get used to his presence, he turned to her sister Reiko, who sat close by. Recently widowed, she was to make her home with them for the first year.

‘You are very welcome as well, Lady Reiko,’ he said politely.

‘Thank you, my lord.’ She bowed low to acknowledge his kindness in noticing her. A proper bow, verging on the obsequious, he noticed. He took the opportunity to study her.

The Lady Reiko was also lovely to look at and seemed as graceful as her sister, but there was something about her that disturbed him. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was, but he felt no pull of attraction, despite the fact that she was bold enough to send him a flirtatious glance. Apart from thinking this was very inappropriate, especially today of all days, it gave him an instant dislike of her. It wasn’t her place to put herself forward in such a way and he wouldn’t tolerate this behaviour in his household. He gave her a haughty stare to show his displeasure, but this only made her smile behind her fan. Frowning slightly at her puzzling response, he silently thanked the gods it wasn’t her he was marrying.

A commotion nearby suddenly interrupted the proceedings. Taro looked up and saw that a crowd had gathered around someone who was lying on the floor. He excused himself and went to see what was happening. He knew he should have sent a servant, not gone himself, but the two ladies had disconcerted him and he welcomed the opportunity to recover his composure away from their vicinity.

‘
Doshite ano
? What’s the matter?’ He frowned when he saw that it was his old
Sensei
who had collapsed. ‘Yanagihara-
san
?’

The old man seemed to have fainted and someone was waving a fan in front of his face to try to revive him. It was a hot day, but Taro didn’t think the room was that stifling. Although perhaps it was different for the elderly? He knelt by his old retainer’s side, a singular honour he would have accorded very few of them.

‘Yanagihara-
san
, can you hear me?’

‘My lord …’ The merest thread of a whisper came from the old man’s lips and Taro had to bend down to catch the words. ‘Do not marry her, I beseech you.’

Taro drew back in surprise. ‘What? But you said …’

‘Never mind what I said. All I told you was that I had seen nothing bad and I hadn’t, I swear, not until just now.’ The voice was still a whisper, loud enough to reach no further than his master’s ears.

‘What did you see?’ Taro was trying his best not to scowl now and he wanted to shake the man. Damn him, this wasn’t the time for his prophecies.

‘I can’t tell you here, but please believe me.’ Yanagihara reached up and grabbed Taro’s wrist with gnarled fingers. Taro restrained the urge to push him off.

‘It’s too late, I can’t back out of it now. I’m sorry, but you should have spoken earlier.’ Taro threw a glance over his shoulder at the woman who waited patiently on the dais, a slight frown marring her perfect features as she took in the strange sight of a
daimyo
kneeling on the floor by the side of a retainer. There was no way on earth he would give her up now that he had seen her. The old man must be mad. In fact, his brain was probably addled with age, otherwise why hadn’t he warned him before? ‘I must go through with this marriage, you know that. Everything is arranged. Now go and rest, my men will help you to your house.’

Yanagihara opened his mouth as if to protest, but he must have read his master’s determination in his eyes, because he closed it again with a nod of acceptance. ‘Very well, so be it. I see it is your fate.’

When he turned back towards his bride, Taro instantly forgot the old man as he basked in the lady’s first smile. Although it wasn’t directed at him, but at her father, nevertheless it was a start. He would soon make her smile at him with such pleasure, he had no doubt about that.

He was indeed a lucky man.

Chapter Three

Plymouth, Devon, 1st June 1611

Hannah made her way to the small garden out at the back, passing quickly through the kitchen instead of staying there as she’d been told. She was past caring whether she received further punishment or not. The kitchen and scullery stuck out from the rest of the house, forming an L-shape with a small courtyard to one side. This was bordered by a high wall with a door which led to a tiny alleyway. Her father’s counting room also overlooked this area, one window facing it while the other was at the front of the house.

She flung herself onto a grassy patch under the window, not even looking to see if this stained her gown.
What does it matter
, she thought,
I’m in trouble anyway
. She leaned her back against the wall of the house and folded her legs up, hugging her knees and leaning her forehead against them. The summer sunshine warmed the top of her head. After breathing deeply of the garden scents for a while, her pulse rate slowed down and Hannah began to feel less agitated.

‘Patience,’ she muttered. Only a few more weeks and Kate would be gone. And as for Ezekiel Hesketh … ‘No, Kate must have made it up. Surely they wouldn’t force me into marriage with him. If they do, I’ll run away.’ Hannah clenched her fists in determination, although where she would run to, she had no idea.

One of the windows banged open suddenly just above Hannah’s head and she hurried to scoot out of the way in case anything of a noxious nature was to be thrown out. Nothing happened, but soon after she heard voices. She recognised that of her father, unmistakably deep and booming, and then her older brother Jacob.

‘I’ve told Rydon we’ll do it. The ships must be made ready as soon as possible,’ her father was saying.

Hannah’s ears pricked up at the mention of the handsome captain and she half rose to crouch under the window in order to hear better.

‘So we’re definitely going ahead with this venture, even though the East India Company have a head start?’ Jacob asked.

‘Yes. I have it on good authority that they are going by way of Bantam in the East Indies in order to trade for spices. Rydon’s friend, who works for the Company, told him they plan to stop there for some considerable time and that will give us additional leeway.’

‘But it’s June now and they left in April. We’ll never beat them to the Japans, no matter how hard we try.’

‘Nonsense. Besides, our ships will be sailing the other way, which should be faster.’

‘What other way? The Northern Passage? But no one has found it yet.’

‘For heaven’s sake, don’t be such a clodpole. I’m speaking of the other southern route, of course.’ Hannah could hear her father’s exasperation loud and clear, but Jacob took no notice.

‘Oh, through the Straits of Magellan?’ Jacob sounded doubtful. ‘I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. There’s a reason why hardly anyone goes that way.’

‘Rydon has obtained the necessary directions and a pilot to guide the ships. He assures me it can be done. Captain Drake managed it years ago after all.’

‘Yes, but Father, even with an experienced navigator, the risks are enormous.’

‘No worse than going round the Cape of Good Hope. That way lies great danger, so I’m told. It’s riddled with Portuguese, for one thing, not to mention the weather conditions which are changeable, to say the least.’

‘Well, as to that, the Straits of Magellan aren’t exactly a haven of tranquillity from what I’ve heard.’ Jacob was silent for a moment, then added. ‘What’s made everyone want to go to Japan all of a sudden anyway? Why not some other country?’

‘Didn’t you hear? Apparently there is at present an Englishman by the name of Will Adams living there. He has somehow established himself and is said to be in great favour with the king of that nation.’

‘What? How would an ordinary Englishman ingratiate himself with a person of such high rank? That’s a ridiculous notion,’ Jacob scoffed.

‘Listen, the East India Company’s officials obviously believe this story to be true. They wouldn’t be going if they weren’t certain of their facts.’

‘Well, perhaps not, but …’

‘Jacob, there are no “buts” here. I tell you, I know those people of old and believe me, they wouldn’t risk their money on a venture that wasn’t sure to be profitable or sound. They are far too avaricious.’

Jacob cleared his throat, then asked gruffly, ‘What is there to trade with in the Japans then?’

‘Well, rumour has it there are great stores of silver, although no gold unfortunately. The Portuguese have apparently become very rich as a result of trading there. Why shouldn’t we do the same?’

‘And what if there is no silver?’ Jacob sighed as if he had almost given up the dispute. Not many people argued successfully with their father and most of the time it was useless even to attempt it.

‘We can’t know for certain, of course, but surely there must be something there of value since the Portuguese are undoubtedly rich? Besides, if we find that the people of Japan have nothing to offer, it wouldn’t be difficult to continue to China or any of the other countries in the Far East. There will always be someone willing to trade somewhere.’ Hannah jumped as her father banged his fist on the table and growled, ‘We must venture further than the Barbary Coast and the West Indies. We simply can’t be left behind everyone else. Our last few ventures have been utter disasters. There’s no way we can continue with our present trade routes, there is too much competition. We have to find something new or go under.’

‘I know, I know.’

‘A little enterprise never hurt anyone, my son. It’s time you saw the world for what it really is, a cut-throat, competitive place. There is no call for too much refinement in business. You need to be ruthless if you want to prosper.’

There was a pause while Jacob obviously digested all this, and Hannah debated whether to try to leave or stay silent and continue to listen. She felt uncomfortable to be eavesdropping for the second time that day, but her fascination with Rydon made her stay where she was. A vision of the dashing captain standing tall on board his ship, the breeze caressing his suntanned cheeks as he steered towards foreign lands, formed in her mind. She imagined herself next to him, his arm holding her safe as they sailed together …

Jacob sighed.
‘Very well. I can see your mind’s made up, Father. When do I sail?’

‘You’re sure you wish to go? It will be dangerous and Rydon could probably manage on his own. Besides, he said he’ll find two other ships to join the venture as well. There’s safety in numbers.’

‘No, I want to sail with them.’

‘Good. I was hoping you’d say that. You leave in a few weeks’ time.’

‘So soon?’

At that point the window was pulled shut and the conversation became inaudible to Hannah, but she’d heard enough. Her thoughts turned to this other Englishman, Will Adams, who was living so far from his homeland. She wondered if he was really in the Japanese king’s favour and how on earth he’d managed such a feat. Since he had made his home there, he must like the place and the people. Wasn’t he homesick though?

Hannah asked herself how she would feel, being so far away from her family and friends and all that was familiar. She snorted.
Right now it would be a blessing.
No one was interested in her anyway. It was all about Kate.

‘And when is it my turn to be of importance?’ Hannah muttered. ‘Probably never.’

A few days after Hannah’s quarrel with her sister, all their relatives and acquaintances had been invited to a feast in honour of Kate’s betrothal to Henry Forrester. The kitchen staff had been cooking for days and as she came down the stairs, Hannah’s stomach growled in response to the savoury smells that hung about the house. She was forever hungry, which she hoped was a sign she was still growing. She peeked into the parlour on the first floor, where the food was being laid out on a serving table. Since no one was looking, she snatched a pastry off a plate to stop her belly from embarrassing her at an inopportune moment.

‘Hah, saw you!’ Her younger brother Edward came racing past, grabbing a pastry of his own while flashing her a cheeky grin. At fifteen, he was as tall as Hannah and just as skinny, and his appetite more than equalled hers.

‘Shh, you little worm, or we’ll both be caught,’ Hannah hissed. They shared an easy camaraderie and Hannah often escaped the house, when her mother wasn’t looking, to tag along with Edward and his friends down to the shore. She loved being outdoors rather than cooped up inside learning household management and wished she’d been born a boy. Edward had the kind of freedom she could only ever dream of.

She tried to push such thoughts out of her mind. Today was a day for celebration and she had put on her best gown for the occasion. It was of a pretty shade of blue, which matched her eyes. Unfortunately, it did nothing whatsoever to enhance her figure though. If anything, it hid the few curves she possessed and brought back Kate’s unkind words. Hannah made a face. There was absolutely nothing she could do about it, so there was no use dwelling on it. Perhaps if she ate a lot she would grow some more? To that end, she stole one more pastry and crammed the whole thing into her mouth in one go.

‘Hannah? What are you doing now?’ Her mother’s exasperated voice startled Hannah and made her swallow too quickly so that the food stuck in her throat. She began to cough and her mother thumped her on the back none too gently. ‘That’s what greed does for you. Didn’t I ask you to keep an eye on the maids? Come now, let’s go downstairs.’

‘Yes, Mother.’ Hannah stopped coughing as they descended to the main hall, which was in the centre of the house. As soon as her mother turned away, however, she headed for the shadows underneath the stairs instead of going to the kitchen as requested. In her opinion, the poor maids had been harried enough as it was and she had no intention of adding to their already heavy burden.

The guests began to arrive soon after and were greeted at the bottom of the stairs by Hannah’s parents. Josiah Marston was a large man, in every sense of the word. He had a scowl that usually procured instant obedience from family and employees alike. This evening, however, he was smiling and greeting his guests with evident pleasure and Hannah sighed.

‘Why does he never look at me that way?’ she muttered under her breath, but knew that such a thing wasn’t likely to happen. The only person in the entire household who could make him smile was Kate, his favourite. Nothing Hannah ever did could change that, she was sure.

Her mother, every bit as formidable as her husband, although of much smaller stature, stood beside him. Her gaze was darting this way and that and nothing escaped Mistress Marston’s vigilance. More than one of the servants received a glare which sent them scurrying off on their business. Hannah shrank deeper into the shadows. Her mother was obviously determined that everything should be perfect this evening and Hannah would rather not be caught loitering once more.

‘Sir John! And Lady Forrester, how wonderful to see you again.’ Hannah’s mother was suddenly all smiles as the guests of honour arrived with their son and heir in tow. Hannah risked a peek and studied her sister’s betrothed critically. She’d seen him before, of course, but never really paid much attention since he wasn’t for her. Now she noticed he was of medium height and somewhat stocky, with a small mouth and receding chin. She had to admit he did look rather stupid, just as Kate had said. However, on closer examination his eyes didn’t have the vacuous stare usually found in imbeciles. Instead, he had a sharp gaze that was taking everything in. Hannah was suddenly convinced young Mr Forrester was a great deal cannier than he’d led Kate to believe.

In her eagerness to see, Hannah leaned forward a bit further and too late she noticed Henry Forrester catch sight of her out of the corner of his eyes. To her great relief he didn’t give her away, but turned and gave her a small smile and a nod. It was almost as if they were co-conspirators. Hannah grinned back and, while their parents were busy, he sidled over to greet her.

‘Hiding yourself away, Mistress Hannah?’ he said in a low voice. ‘That won’t do, you know, if you want to find yourself a husband too.’

‘Oh, I’m in no hurry on that score, Mr Forrester.’

‘Perhaps you’re wise. Matrimony isn’t something to be rushed into lightly.’

This was the first time Hannah had ever spoken to Kate’s betrothed privately and she found she quite liked him. Since she wouldn’t wish Kate on her worst enemy, she was therefore in a quandary. Should she warn him what was in store for him if he married Kate or would it be better to keep quiet? Before she had time to come to a decision, however, he had turned to greet his betrothed, who was at that moment coming down the stairs, a vision of loveliness in pink and white. Hannah stared at the pair of them and bit her lip when she saw Henry take Kate’s hand and draw it through the crook of his arm. But when Kate tried to pull away, his hand remained firmly closed over hers and Hannah blinked in surprise.