Virginia Henley (4 page)

The other practice he abolished immediately was the murder of female children at birth. Savage insisted they could be taught to work for paid wages.

At the first blush of dawn he left the rubber trees and walked swiftly to the mustering grounds where all the workers gathered each morning to receive their daily tasks. With the aid of a multilingual banyan the day’s tasks were allotted to the work force of fifteen hundred Tamils.

Each day after the mustering Adam Savage returned to his bungalow for breakfast. Then he saddled up and rode
over the entire twenty thousand acres to supervise the various harvests that he exported to Britain. His homeland had developed an insatiable demand for anything and everything the tropics could produce.

As he cut through a coconut grove on his way to the house he heard the pitiful whimperings of a monkey. It lay in his path, its small body at a peculiar angle. He saw immediately that it had broken its back in a fall from the top of a high palm. Its eyes looked up pleadingly from its small orange face. Already there was a trail of red ants swarming toward the helpless creature. He could tell it was in great pain but knew that within minutes its suffering would increase a thousandfold. He took his gun from his leather belt and shot it. It was a far kinder death than being devoured alive by a million red ants. Leopard’s Leap was surrounded by jungle on three sides. In the jungle death was the most common occurrence of the day.

Adam was subdued at breakfast, so John Bull thought he had better remind him of something. “Do not forget about Lady Lamb’s visit. I will have fresh clothes and a bath ready at four of the clock sharp.”

“I’ll be here,” Adam reassured his man, refusing more fruit and coffee. “No time. I have a lot to do before four.” He did not need to check on details of the dinner to be served to his guest; John Bull was a perfectionist.

Savage saddled one of his Arabs and rode toward a hilly region planted with tea bushes. Men and women and older children of both sexes were pluckers. They made an exotic picture in their gaily colored cottons, their bamboo baskets slung on their backs, fastened by a rope around their foreheads. Young runners went up and down the rows carrying sacks so that the pluckers could empty their filled baskets.

Mature tea bushes yielded a crop of flush every two weeks. Flush was the tender closed tea bud and two leaves. The overseers with their umbrellas checked continually
to make sure the bushes were cleaned of unproductive stems, but that the coarse leaves did not go into the baskets.

As Savage tallied the pounds of tea that had been picked, he watched the women with pride. They made much better pluckers than men. Their hands were superlative, darting over the bushes with dainty movements, gathering handfuls of flush, then lithely throwing them over their shoulders into the baskets without crushing or bruising the tender buds.

Savage moved on to farther acres that were being pruned. Pruners were paid higher for their services because of their know-how. Tea bushes must be pruned in strict rotation to ensure they produced for eighteen months before needing to be pruned again.

Scores of other laborers were needed for cleaning drains, culverts, and silt pits. The plantation boasted a timber reserve of quick-growing fuel trees where men chopped, split, and hauled wood to the latex smoke houses and the four-level tea factory where five processes were carried out: withering, rolling, fermenting, firing, and grading.

For the thousandth time he thanked Providence that on his nefarious runs to China importing and exporting illicit cargoes, he’d also taken an interest in the licit crops the Chinese produced. Once he learned how much tea could be packed into the hold of a ship, and the ridiculous prices the English were willing to pay for this newly fashionable beverage, he had taken immediate advantage. Then later when he had scraped together enough to buy the plantation in Ceylon, he had bought hundreds of the fragile seedlings, transplanted them with gentle hands, then labored and worried over each as if it were a child of his loins to be cared for with infinite tenderness and love. The care he had lavished upon these first delicate tea bushes in Ceylon had paid off a thousandfold. The following year
he’d done the same with rubber plants he brought from Burma.

Any number of afflictions could cause havoc on a plantation. Early in the afternoon as he was examining some groves for root and stem disease, Adam was distracted by the birds. The sight and sound in the treetops played hell with his emotions. The swallows were gathering to return to England and such a wave of nostalgia for his homeland swept over him that he knew he must soon return or go “doolally,” a condition bordering on madness from being in the isolation and heat of the tropics overlong.

Savage thought of the house he was having built. It was a culmination of all his dreams and all his hard work. With the naive hopes of youth he had come to the Indies to acquire wood so that his father’s business would increase. Visions of prosperity danced in his head along with a plan to buy a small house in a respectable neighborhood away from the unhealthy, damp yard where his father’s cabinet-making business was located by the Thames.

His father’s death had snuffed out all his hopes and covered him with guilt. To this day he believed if he’d been there to nurse his father through his chronic bronchitis and do all in his power to fight the insidious conditions of poverty, his father might still be alive.

Savage had emerged from the grief and guilt with an iron determination to acquire wealth. If his resolve was fixed strongly enough, and he let nothing stand in his way, and he swore to do anything to attain his goal, including kill, nothing on this earth could keep him from that goal. And he’d done it. Oh, it hadn’t been easy. His driving ambition had led him down paths of iniquity and he’d paid dearly for every mistake he’d made. But gradually, slowly, a plan had been forged.

It was an ambitious plan, a glorious plan, and most importantly a worthy plan. That was the secret of success, probably. It wasn’t enough to need something and want
something. Until you also deserved it, you didn’t begin to get it.

The stately home in England was only part of his plan. It was a means to an end. Without the trappings he could never achieve the worthy goal he’d set himself. A woman such as Evelyn Lamb would be the crowning touch for his English estate. She was even titled. With a gracious hostess like Lady Lamb at his side, his ambitions could be realized in half the time.

He decided to waste no more time. He’d begin his wooing today. It might take a little time. She wouldn’t fall into his bed like some chee-chee girl, he wouldn’t want her to, but he must breach the barriers of class between them that would impede a more intimate relationship.

Savage returned to the bungalow early to bathe and change, so that by the time of the appointed hour of five, he was on the verandah steps when her open carriage arrived, driven by a Company sepoy. She was dressed in black silk, her beautiful blond hair swept into elegant coils and fastened by tortoiseshell combs.

“Good evening, Mr. Savage,” she said formally before the soldier.

“Good evening, Lady Lamb.” His slow smile belied the formality of his tone. He smiled rarely, but when he did, his scarred lip gave him a look that was both dangerous and deadly. “I promised to show you the tea factory. There is still an hour before sunset.”

She nodded her acceptance and the sepoy stepped down and handed the reins to Savage. Adam had changed into fawn riding breeches and cream shirt and jacket. The coat was a special concession to his guest. The most he usually ever wore was a shirt.

He handed her from the phaeton and saw she was wearing high leather boots beneath her whispering silks. “I have a horror of creeping things,” she explained, her mouth curving deliciously. He took her arm and led her through the factory.

“The top three floors are simply withering lofts. These fans keep the air moving until the leaves become dry.” As they descended to ground level he kept a strong hand at her elbow. “Four rollings extrude the oil, which is a sticky golden green. This floor is kept continually cool by having water run down the walls. Your nose tells you when the tea has fermented enough to be put in the ovens and fired.”

He led her into an airy building adjacent to the first where the pleasantly pungent fragrance rose up from the heaps of black, crisp tea. “It’s ready for sorting, cutting, sifting, grading, and packing.”

Evelyn touched the tea chests stacked against the wall. “When the English sip their orange pekoe or souchong they haven’t the vaguest idea how much time or labor is involved.”

“They pay a high price for the privilege, so I cannot complain.”

Money! It was the subject Evelyn was longing to pursue. She must be subtle, and yet she must waste no more time in breaching the barriers between them that would lead to a more intimate relationship.

Adam handed Eve back into the open carriage and urged the horse toward the lake. Then he invited her to walk with him. The deep blue of the sky was turning to saffron with shafts of brilliant gold. A swarm of macaques with tufted faces gamboled in the branches, throwing fruit rind at submerged water buffaloes. Sapphire kingfishers and black and golden orioles darted
across the water to catch gnats, while a flock of flamingos took wing.

As they strolled along the lake’s edge the sky was turning into a deep red, making Eve’s alabaster skin a blush-pink. From beneath her lashes she saw how Adam’s cream shirt contrasted against his mahogany throat and her breasts began to tingle. Adam Savage had such an air of authority and command, which she knew came from having supreme confidence in himself and his own abilities.

Evelyn was used to having her own way in life. She had avoided marrying a dominant man and as a result ruled her own roost like an empress, but at the moment this virile, dominant self-made man was an unbelievable catch. He was attracted to her, he was still available, and most important, he was wealthy.

They stopped short as two wild water buffalo roared at each other a few hundred yards off. She watched in disbelief at the speed and ferocity of the charge. One bull hit the other so hard, it knocked it through the air and it lay in the mud as if dead. Then the victorious bull mated the waiting cow buffalo in a spectacular orgy of pure sexual pleasure. The man who witnessed it felt an atavistic thrill.

Eve gasped and drew back against Adam. He took her in his arms swiftly, decisively, and brought his mouth down on hers as if he were starving. Her belly felt like molten mercury and she stiffened as her breasts and mons felt the iron hardness of his chest and groin. He mastered her with his tongue and as her mouth filled with the feel and taste of him she moaned.

A wave of guilt swept over her. It had nothing to do with her recently deceased husband. Sex always made her feel guilty and dirty. She had thought the act of the animals disgusting and was fearful that the primitive mating, coupled with Savage’s virile presence, might sexually arouse her.

She was on very dangerous ground here. Savage might make her lose control, and Eve did not want that to happen.
She must retain control. She suppressed her body’s physical response immediately.

Adam was surprised when she suddenly pulled from him and with cheeks flaming looked about to see if they had been observed. He noted with sardonic amusement that this would have horrified her. She retreated to the phaeton and her previous formality.

Adam drove to the stable and turned the horse over to a native groom. His instructions brought alarm to her face. “I cannot stay late—” She said low, “Servants gossip incessantly.”

“As you wish,” he said quietly, but no matter how much she wished otherwise, the kiss had wiped out a great many barriers that he would not allow her to reerect.

As they passed through the front hall Rupee retreated to the far end of his perch because of the stranger and cried, “Sinner! Repent!”

John Bull was relieved that the bird chose biblical words that did not offend because there were many words in the white man’s Bible and Rupee’s repertoire that were offensive. Eve, however, could have stoned the mynah.

Though the windows and doors of the dining room had jalousies to let in the breeze, a servant sat cross-legged on the floor pulling the cord that turned the punka ceiling fans.

Beside Evelyn’s plate Adam Savage had placed an exotic orchid. Its black velvet petals were shot through with veins of gold and scarlet. “Lovely,” she murmured, and suddenly Adam wanted to see it against the pale gold of her hair. He resisted for the moment and pulled out her chair for her.

John Bull in immaculate white jacket and pantaloons served the meal in his most unobtrusive manner, never uttering a word. Adam knew how much restraint this took on John Bull’s part and made a mental note to compliment him.

Though the servant’s manner was unobtrusive, Lady
Lamb’s eyes fastened on his crimson turban, which was anything but. In its center was a ruby as large as a man’s thumbnail. She had suspected Savage was a wealthy man, but she’d had no idea he was rich enough to shower his servants with jewels.

The ruby made Eve change her tactics. The subject of money must be broached, and in her experience a strong, dominant man responded best to a delicate, helpless woman.

Adam watched her make a pretense of eating. After a couple of small bites she began to toy with the delicious food on her plate. Eve found Indian food repulsive and she was thankful that it was so. Eating practically nothing was the only way she could retain her slim figure. Adam assumed she had not regained her appetite since her bereavement.

“Eve, do you need someone to talk with?” he asked quietly. He saw the relief in her eyes.

“Oh, yes … I need your help … your advice,” she amended quickly. “I will no longer receive Russell’s salary from the East India Company. They will appoint another administrator.”

Adam was not taken aback that she spoke of money. He was shrewd enough to see through her pretensions. Perhaps she was more interested in a financial partnership than an emotional relationship. Perhaps he, too, wanted her more as a chatelaine for Edenwood than as a real wife. “Russell explained that you own Government House outright. It doesn’t belong to the Company.”

Eve nodded and said helplessly, “Yes, but, you see, they paid us a very generous amount to use our home as Government Headquarters here in Ceylon. That money will stop now.”

“Not necessarily,” he said thoughtfully. “The Company will still need offices for the administrator and his assistants.” Adam had no idea if she was knowledgeable about the business of the East India Company and how it was
tied to politics. “You see, the Company and the Crown have dual control over India and Ceylon. Only two things interest them, profits and collecting taxes.”

“But I thought Raja Singha was the ruler. I’m a frequent guest at the palace. I’ve seen you there occasionally. His wealth is beyond belief.”

“I don’t question his wealth, but he is a figurehead. Clive conquered the colonies for Britain thirty years ago. The Raja is allowed his golden palace and opulent lifestyle to keep him pacified, and just in case there’s a hint of trouble, every plantation has its army of sepoys. India is owned lock, stock, and barrel by the British and as soon as she rids Ceylon of the last of the Dutch, I know it, too, will be made a Colony of the Crown.”

Eve laid down her heavily ornamented silver knife and fork as a realization hit her. “That’s why you have made plans to return to England within the next year. As a planter in a Crown Colony you would have to answer to the government and you prefer to answer only to yourself.”

Adam smiled inwardly at her shrewdness. “Up until recently the Governors General of India have played cricket on Calcutta lawns, ridden to hounds to hunt the jackal as if it were the fox, and translated Persian classics into English. All at once the incompetent British Government fell and that genius Pitt became chief minister. As a result his India Bill has been passed by parliament, forcing the East India Company to accept a board of control.” He hesitated a moment, then continued.

“Russell told me the Company’s profits last year were in excess of three million pounds. The Government intends to investigate.” Adam blamed Russell’s heart troubles on the pending investigation, but he said nothing to Eve. “The Company controls the balance of power and the British Government intends to take it for itself. In the end everything comes down to money,” Adam said cynically.

Eve was so absorbed, she didn’t even flush at his remark.

“So,” Adam gestured expansively, “it’s bad for me, but good for you. I must get my gold out before anyone questions how the hell I accumulated so much and you can gouge them by renting a wing of Government House for their horde of tax collectors. You can also expect to be compensated for the army of sepoys billeted on you and odds are in favor of the new administrator being unmarried or at least not having his wife here with him and they will still have to rely upon you to run the social life of Ceylon, as you have for several years. In fact I think you should be on the Company’s payroll. I’ll see to it for you.”

Adam was used to the system of bribes that oiled the machinery.

“Thank you, Adam.” Her mind dashed about like quicksilver. Christ, he
had
said “gold” hadn’t he? Surely it wasn’t her imagination! The man was almost a complete mystery. She was about to say something but the presence of John Bull and the servant cross-legged on the floor made her hesitate.

Adam was aware of her hesitation immediately. He saw that she had no intention of eating her dessert, so pushed his chair back and drew her toward a private sitting room.

“Tell the servants to retire,” he told John Bull, whose job it was to ensure the couple’s complete privacy.

Eve picked up her orchid and allowed Adam to lead her into the adjoining room. She sat in a peacock chair of bamboo, knowing it would frame her beauty, while Adam poured them Madeira, one of the few wines that kept well in the heat of the tropics.

As if Adam were a priest and she at confession, she blurted, “I need money. I have gambling debts.”

His blue eyes crinkled at the corners. “Such wickedness,” he teased. “Gambling is an ingrained characteristic of the English. I, too, am a gambler.”

Obviously he had no idea hers was a compulsion, an addiction. He thought it a mere peccadillo.

“The only difference is that I gamble on ships’ cargoes and insurance rather than on cards.”

“I’ve thought of that,” she confessed, “but the risk is too high. If I insured a cargo and the ship was lost, I’d be wiped out.”

Suddenly he realized she was very serious about money. “Good God, don’t even consider it. I have a vast knowledge of ships and the perils awaiting them on the high seas. I’d never insure a cargo unless the ship carrying it was completely seaworthy, bristled with guns, and was manned by cutthroat sea-dogs who could outfight pirates.”

“You own your own ships, don’t you?” Eve was astonished the conversation had turned to shipping. She had thought it would take two or three visits before she could ask the favor she desperately needed.

“A few years back I had my first East Indiaman built in Bombay of finest teak. I have three smaller vessels for the India-China run. They make port in Burma, Sumatra, and Canton but not Persia. It’s overrun with pirates.”

“Adam, would you give me cargo space on one of your ships?”

“Of course. Forgive me for not offering it. Anytime I can fill one of your needs, I shall be happy to do so!” His blue eyes pierced her with a searing, intimate look that gave his words an unmistakable meaning.

He came to her and took the tortoiseshell combs from her hair so that it fell about her shoulders in pale golden waves. Then he took the exotic orchid and tucked it behind her ear. “I’ve been wanting to do that all night,” he confessed huskily. He cupped her face with his strong brown hands and lifted it until her mouth almost touched his.

“Eve, I’ll pay your gambling debts.”

These were the exact words she wanted to hear, but she knew she must pretend otherwise. Over the years she had
become a consummate artist at pretense. She stiffened and pulled away from him.

“I couldn’t possibly let you do that.” She knew that nothing was free under the sun, especially from men. She was prepared to pay his price, of course, she’d been doing it all her life, but up until now it had been on her terms and she wanted to keep it that way.

Savage was so unreadable, an enigma really. She knew he was dominant and strong-willed but his sex drive might be insatiable enough for her to control him. She allowed her stiffness to dissolve. She cast him a sidewise glance as a lure and said temptingly, “Perhaps I could
win
the money from you.”

Adam knew she was showing him an acceptable way of letting her have his money. Though she had eaten little, he saw that she drank the Madeira. He refilled her glass, then opened the drawer of the games table and took out dice. Dice were quick. There was no way he was going to waste the remainder of their evening playing cards.

He lifted the lid of an oblong silver box and emptied its contents on the table. “We’ll play for jewels,” he said softly, his eyes on her mouth. He saw her gasp and lick her lips. He allowed himself the luxury of hardening in anticipation. He evenly divided the uncut gems between them until both sat before a small pile of rubies, emeralds, and diamonds.

Eve felt her pulses quicken. The very blood in her veins began to warm and flow faster. She caught her breath as she picked up the die caster and experienced a delicious rush as she flung the ivory cubes onto the table. She rolled double five. Adam’s eyes never left her face. Almost negligently he rolled a five and a six, then reached over and selected the largest uncut emerald from her pile.

He saw her concentration increase, saw the intense look of triumph when this time it was Eve who rolled eleven. Adam leaned back indifferently and cast a double six onto the table. Very casually he took a diamond from her.