The Shallow Seas (11 page)

She drank a draught of wine and fanned herself, recalling those heady days.

“Most of the regulations which Raffles put in place remained: the land tax, for instance, the justice system, even driving carriages on the left side of the road. Of course, Batavia had an effect on the English, too. Many men who had come as bachelors very rapidly began their own little harems of slave women. In Borneo, the Resident of Banjamarsin, Alexander Hare, was notorious, my dear, for his slave plantation and his vast harem. Even Gillespie, the military commandant, had slaves in his households. For all the sermonising and official edicts, nothing ever really changed in that area until much later.”

Charlotte remembered Tigran's words on the subject.

“Ah, but many of us admired you English a great deal. So avant-garde, so enlightened, so lively. Raffles's comptroller christened his daughter Olivia Mariamne Stamford Raffles Villeneuve.” Wilhelmina gave a short laugh. “It was
de trop
, my dear, don't you agree? And my uncle Petrus Couperus, one of Raffles's councillors, called his son, Willem Jacob Thomas Raffles Couperus. He was Petra's brother, my nephew. Petra is my niece through the marriage of my half-sister Catharina. Poor Willem died very young, bless his soul.”

Wilhelmina looked over at Charlotte and detected a heightened interest at the mention of Petra. Actually, Charlotte was thinking what dull days they must have been indeed, when the
English government
, of all groups, should have had a lightening, gay effect upon society anywhere.

“And now you will marry Tigran Manouk, the Arjuna of Batavia, the great catch. So many maidens, and widows, will cry in their beds tonight, now they have seen your beauty and how hopeless is their position.”

Wilhelmina laughed.

“Yes,” said Charlotte, “I am only discovering what it is that I have done. I had no idea.”

“Oh dear, Charlotte, even worse. All achieved without guile or intent. They shall be vexed indeed.”

The deep sound of a gong resounded around the garden. Wilhelmina finished her wine and rose.

“Come, we must return. Tigran will be looking for you to take you into dinner, and my Pieter hates it when I disappear off in the darkness.” As they returned to the ballroom, Charlotte could not help a feeling of warmth towards Wilhelmina, the highest woman in the land, who often disappeared off into the darkness, to her husband's chagrin.

Dinner, Charlotte discovered, was a vastly different affair to those in Singapore. Before they sat down, the table had already been covered thickly with open dishes of vegetables and viands. These were, she discovered, to be eaten cold. The soup however, came boiling to the table, so hot as to be a danger to the palate. The desserts and fruit were all present, and thus the whole meal was displayed at once. Charlotte was somewhat disconcerted to find that some of the older diners, both men and women, used their knives for purposes which most English would perform with a spoon or fork. After the soup was dispatched, there was a general mélée, with desserts preceding meats or interspersed with them, vegetables and fruits taken together, beer and wine drunk as the diner chose. The diners were attended by an array of quiet servants, leaping forward to fill a glass, pass a dish and generally assist in the Rabelaisian fray. It was certainly lively, Charlotte thought, whilst resisting all attempts by others to combine on her plate a piece of roast fowl with the sago pudding. Tigran was seated near Wilhelmina and occasionally smiled over at her and raised an ironic eyebrow. Charlotte, fortunately, was seated between John Price and Reverend Medhurst and was thus afforded a measure of protection.

The dancing stood in direct contrast to the frenzy of dining. Slow waltzes were the order of the evening. Everyone seemed to know how to dance most gracefully. Tigran took her in his arms. She remembered an evening in Singapore when there had been dancing, but he had not waltzed. Now she wondered why; he was an excellent dancer. She thought it scandalous—he kept no space between her body and his, holding her tightly against him. Though all eyes were upon them, this seemed to excite no general stirrings around the hall, and she could see from the other dancers that this was, in Batavia, the mode of the dance. What her acquaintance might have thought of this in Singapore and certainly in Scotland she could only imagine.

Tigran smiled down at her, and she blushed, unused to such full-blooded attentions and realising too the rather unforeseen enjoyment at feeling the movements of his body against hers, the sureness of his guiding touch. He held her for two dances, and she was breathless and hot as he released her to a chair and kissed her hand.

Pieter Merkus came up and claimed her as a new dance began, and she saw, out of the corner of her eye, Petra Couperus go up to Tigran and, taking him by the hand, lead him out onto the terrace. He put up little resistance, Charlotte thought, and could not wait for the dance to end. She curtsied to the Governor-General as Pieter took her back to sit with Takouhi. He called for wine and began to converse with her friend. Charlotte paid no attention at all, her eyes riveted to the terrace. She could see nothing but blackness, with a flickering of lamps. She drank down her wine in one gulp and rose, excusing herself with a need for air. The dances were in full flow, and she moved nearer to the door, then, seeing no one, dared to go out into the darkness. She heard a murmur of voices, and, advancing quietly, she leant against a pillar.

Tigran was talking low, but Petra's voice had risen slightly. They were talking in a mixture of Malay and Dutch, which Charlotte could not understand. She looked around the pillar and saw them standing by a low wall, in the flickering light. Petra had her hand on Tigran's arm. He said something to her, and suddenly she dropped her hand and turned away from him. He stood behind her. It was clear he took no pleasure in seeing her upset. He murmured, and she turned again and put her arms around his neck, pulling his face towards hers. He took her arms from his neck and moved her firmly away. When he made to leave, she dragged at his arm, stumbling as he pulled away. It was obvious she was abject, and Charlotte wished to see no more. She ran quickly back to the ballroom and walked to her seat.

Tigran returned with two glasses of wine. He handed one to Charlotte and chatted amiably with Pieter. When the music began again, he pulled Charlotte gently into his arms and into a waltz. She was dying to ask him about Petra but sensed that he would most certainly not welcome such inquiries.

When the evening finally ended, Tigran helped Charlotte into the coach. She was utterly exhausted and befuddled from the wine. The lamplight cast a gentle glow inside the carriage. As Tigran settled in beside her, she kicked off her shoes. He took off his coat and cravat, loosed his thin, soft cotton shirt, threw his head back and closed his eyes. Within a few minutes, as the coach set off swaying, she realised he was asleep. She looked at him, liking the way his hair fell down his neck and onto his cheek. She could see the outline of his chest and waist against the cotton. She let her eyes go down his body. What did she feel for this man? Tonight he had been wonderful. Handsome, gallant, a wonderful dancer, an attentive companion. Tonight he had been Arjuna. She had been the envy of almost every woman in the room.

What did she want? She closed her eyes and saw Zhen. Tired and befuddled, she let her mind rove over his face and body, remembered the feel of his hands on her and let out a low moan. She opened her eyes, but Tigran was still asleep.

Inside the coach it was close and hot. She dropped the glass on the window and put her head outside, watched the swaying horses, heard their snuffling breath and the beat of their hooves on the ground. It had rained, and the path was still slightly wet. The quarter-moon flitted between the branches like a scythe cutting the dark masses of the trees, racing ahead of the coach. The sky was clear and high, washed fresh by the rain. A smell of smoke came from the tall palm leaf torches which the two red-coated footmen held aloft from the back of the carriage.

Footmen, thought Charlotte in a muddled way. I am in a carriage with footmen, like Queen Victoria. The thought was suddenly comical, and she began to giggle.

Charlotte's hard embroidered bodice was hooked in the front, and it felt hot and tight. Takouhi had forbidden any corset wearing, which she herself loathed and which she deemed unhealthy and unsafe for a pregnant woman. Takouhi could not understand these contraptions with which white women bound themselves. Charlotte undid three hooks and allowed her chest to breath against the light camisole underneath. The wind flowed around her body, and this felt so good she undid all the hooks, allowing it to swing open and feel the coolness against the cotton. She looked quickly at Tigran. Did she want him to awake and find her like this? Did she want him to make love to her inside this dark swaying carriage? She released the camisole from her skirt and allowed the air to circulate around her breasts, over her hot skin. It felt wonderful.

She looked again at Tigran. She had only to reach out and take his hand, put it against her skin and he would awake, she knew.

Charlotte was completely overtaken with feeling, her blood beating like the hooves of the horses against the path. She threw off her bodice, undid the skirt and let it drop to the floor. She dropped the petticoat also, leaving only her pantaloons. Under this she was naked. The blue diamonds lay against her throat. She liked the feel of the necklace on her naked body.

She knelt next to Tigran and put her hand tentatively to his face. He did not awake but merely moved his head slightly. Somewhere in her brain came the thought that this was wrong, but it was far away. Charlotte frowned, annoyed at his lack of reaction. She put her face to his, her lips on his, and pressed them. He awoke surprised and pulled his face away. He took in Charlotte's dress thrown on the floor, the outline of her breasts against the camisole, the heavy-lidded gaze. He saw what she wanted, but was it with him or someone inside her head? He had expected this moment to come, but not so soon, not here in the darkness, where it would be so easy to succumb to his own desire for her.

Charlotte moved into his arms, putting her lips against his throat, touching his hair, running her fingers into the plaits and beads which she found so arousing, willing him to touch her. She had taken a surfeit of wine, he knew. The movement of the coach swayed her body against him.

A sudden jolt over rough ground caused her almost to fall from the seat, and he pulled her to him. He lowered his window to the night air and called to the coachman. “Slow down, no hurry. Go carefully.”

The pace immediately slowed to a gentle trot.

By the lamp's dim light, Tigran looked at her. She locked her fingers into his braids and pulled his lips to hers. She sighed a shuddering sigh, and he could not resist deepening the kiss, their first kiss. He pulled her more tightly into his arms, wanting to rip off her clothes, do what she was begging him for.

But, tomorrow what would she feel? Revulsion? Invaded, shamed? He couldn't bear any strain between them. These first weeks of their life together were too important, and she was too vulnerable. For the first time in his life, he was glad to be forty and full of sense. If he had been a younger man, he would not have had the will to stop.

He pulled away.

“Zhen,” she groaned. “Please.”

Tigran stiffened. Before he could think, he felt her suddenly go completely limp and her head fall against his shoulder.

He let her fall back gently to the seat. Her camisole had risen, half revealing her breasts, the smooth curve of her waist. Her hair was mussed around her face and neck. The blue diamond necklace lay slung back loosely against her skin, and he put out a hand to pull it, bring her up to him with it. He was tempted, his blood pounding. He was furious at her, too, for saying that man's name. Was she dreaming of this damn Chinaman?

As he had this thought, he pulled his hand back and flung himself into the corner of the carriage. What was he thinking? He hated this man more than he had imagined possible. He wanted to reach down inside Charlotte and rip this Chinaman out.

His head resting against the side of the carriage, he turned the ring on his finger and breathed in the night air. Once he was calm, he arranged her clothes and moved her gently until her head rested on his lap. He would not wake her when they arrived. He would call for a cover and have her carried to her bedroom. What the servants would make of their half-dressed mistress he did not care. But he had made up his mind. Whilst this baby and this man lived inside her, he would not make love to her, even after the wedding. She must come to him,
must
come to him. Patience, Tigran, he thought, then called to the coachman to speed up.

7

When Charlotte awoke she felt wretched. As she opened her eyes, Takouhi rose from the chair next to the bed and came to her, wiping her sweating face with a cool cloth. Charlotte tried to get up but felt waves of nausea sweep over her, and Takouhi, seeing the whiteness of her face and lips, called the maid for a bowl. Charlotte leaned over the edge of the bed and vomited again and again until nothing was left. Yet still the waves of nausea came, engulfing and shaking her body. When at last they subsided, she fell back, exhausted.

“
Alamak
, Charlotte. Too much excitement last night. No more wine for a while,” Takouhi said, smiling, for she knew Charlotte would be well now that her body had cleared itself. She and Tigran had worried, though, and a watch had been set over her all night.

“You pregnant, must be careful.”

As she said this, the maid raised Charlotte from the pillows and put a cup of warm liquid to her mouth. It tasted of honey and ginger, but there was a bitterness and sourness in it, too. It was not unpleasant, and Charlotte, her throat parched, drank it down willingly. Within a few minutes she began to feel better.

“Today you rest. We go to the river. Drink tea, ginger, lemon, nettle. Eat little bit, fish and vegetables. This evening you be fit as fiddle.”