“Do you know exactly what day your family plans to depart for Scotland?” he asked her in practical tones. “I must find a ship sailing for Naples. I suspect we do not have much time.”
“In three or four days’ time at the most,” India replied. “He has not given the order for our possessions to be packed up yet.”
“I will go to the docks in the morning and find us a vessel,” he told her. “There will be someone sailing for the Mediterranean soon.”
“Go to the O‘Malley-Small Trading Company docks,” India advised. “I will not sail on any other ship but one of theirs. If we trust ourselves to strangers, we could end up murdered for our possessions and thrown overboard, Adrian. Sea travel can be dangerous, but the O’Malley-Small ships belong to my family, and we will be safe.”
“But will these people not recognize you, India?”
“Not if I board the ship in disguise, Adrian,” she told him, feeling quite clever. “You shall be a son of the conde di Carlo, and I your elderly great-aunt, Lady Monypenny, newly widowed and childless, returning home to Naples, my girlhood home, after many years, in order to die. You have been sent by your father, my nephew, to escort me. This will allow us to purchase two cabins without arousing suspicion. I shall keep to my cabin during the voyage so my disguise may not be penetrated by anyone else on board. Am I not cunning, my sweet lord?” She grinned mischievously at him.
“Indeed,” he agreed, a bit surprised by her resourcefulness. Perhaps India’s mind was a little too skillful at deception, he considered, but then he remembered how rich she was, and how beautiful, and how well she had responded to his roving hands. She was tamable. All women were tamable under the right circumstances, and he would not be a harsh master.
“You must go now,” she told him. “Come tomorrow night, and use the same signal to call me. Our plans must be finalized by then.”
Giving India a quick kiss, the viscount opened the casement window and stepped through it into the night. “Until tomorrow, my love,” he told her, and then he was gone into the darkness.
India sighed as she latched the window shut. He was so wonderful, her Adrian, and soon they would be man and wife. How sensitive he was! Not only did he sympathize with Papa, who was being totally unreasonable and difficult, but his carefulness and concern for her person and her innocence showed her that he was a man of excellent character. Her parents were wrong about Adrian. He was the perfect man for her. Leaving the library, she crept back up the staircase to her bedchamber, and slipped easily into bed next to her sister, who was now snoring. She thought she would be too excited to sleep remembering the events of the last hour, but India was soon slumbering as heavily as Fortune.
In the morning she feigned a headache, and kept to her bed until half the morning had gone by, sipping smoky black tea that her mother had brought her to ease the alleged throbbing in her temples.
“We thought we might spend the afternoon at court,” Jasmine told her daughter. “Do you feel well enough to come?”
India sighed deeply. “I think not, Mama,” she said. “The pain is easing, but a trip upon the cold and damp river will but bring it back. We are not leaving London tomorrow, are we? I will get another chance to bid their majesties farewell, won’t I?”
“Your father has decided we will depart on Tuesday,” the duchess told her daughter. “It is only Saturday. You will have the opportunity to say good-bye to the king and queen, India.”
“Then I think I shall remain within the house today,” India replied. “I should be fine by the morrow.”
“Would you mind if we went to Whitehall?” Jasmine asked. “Henry and Charlie have already made some important contacts, and perhaps I shall find a lovely gentleman for you, my daughter.”
India smiled wanly. “There is no one for me but Adrian, Mama.”
“Oh, my darling girl,” Jasmine said, “you must put him from your mind. He is entirely unsuitable, and your father will not hear of it. Jemmie has tried so hard to raise you as Rowan Lindley would have, India, and I know Rowan would agree with Jemmie about your viscount. Put it aside, my daughter, for you will not be happy until you do.”
India sighed. “I will try, Mama,” she murmured.
“That is all I ask of you for now,” Jasmine replied.
When the Leslies had departed for Whitehall, taking Fortune with them as well, India arose and began to pack her own little trunks. Neither she nor Fortune had been allowed to bring servants on this trip. The house was quiet, and practically servantless, for the duke had not bothered to hire extra help on this visit, and only the small permanent staff that lived at Greenwood was in residence. There were five of them. The majordomo, the housekeeper, the laundress, the cook, and the stableman. India now took an armful of laundry to the laundress.
“We are leaving on Tuesday,” she said. “I want to travel with clean undergarments, Dolly. Would you mind doing these today? I’m sure Mama and Fortune will want their things done, too, and this way we will not overburden you by piling everything on you at once.”
“Of course, m’lady, and most kind of you,” the laundress answered.
India hurried to the library, and, opening the false panel where her parents hid their valuables when they were in London, she put her hand into the dark cavity. The chamois bag of coins her father always took when they traveled was quite plump. The duke obviously had already been to the goldsmith’s bank in preparation for their return trip. India smiled to herself, and withdrew her hand, closing the panel. She fully intended taking that bag with her when she left with Adrian. It would be a down payment on her dowry. She would wager after he paid their fare he would have little left and be glad for her foresight. Her father’s gold would keep them quite comfortably for the next year. She returned to her own bedchamber.
Her family had not returned by the midnight hour when Adrian Leigh once again tossed pebbles at her window. India flung open the casement and, looking down, said, “You must be careful. My family have not yet returned from Whitehall, and will be coming by the river. What news, my darling lord? I dare not come down. I can see the river better from here, and you must be gone before they return.”
“You were right, my clever poppet,” he told her. “The Royal Charles, the O’Malley-Small Trading Company’s newest cargo and passenger vessel, departs for the Mediterranean on the morning tide Monday, and it will stop at Naples. I have booked us two cabins as you instructed, and we must be aboard by five o’clock in the morning at the latest.”
“Who is its captain?” she asked.
“Thomas Southwood,” he replied.
“My cousin,” she said thoughtfully. “But as he has not seen me in many years, I expect we will be safe. Especially as I shall be disguised as old Lady Monypenny. Come for me at four o’clock in the morning. I shall bring two small trunks and my jewelry, so do not come in a small werry. You have done admirably, my darling.” India blew him a kiss. “Go now before we are caught. I love you, Adrian!” She drew the window shut, her heart soaring. Just a few more days and they would make good their escape! She climbed into bed, and was already sleeping by the time her family returned home.
The next day was Sunday, and they attended religious services at Whitehall Palace. The king preferred the more Catholic Anglican service despite the grumblings from the many Puritans in his court.
“Go and have your own services then,” he ordered the more outspoken of them. “Do none of you remember that I am pledged to be as tolerant as I may? You do not like England’s church, and you do not like the queen’s faith. Go then, and hold your own candleless plain services with no outward show of faith but your droning voices.”
Coming