Lewis concurred. “The timing is off.”
“Both of you come by later when you can. There will always be food available, a bed to rest in, and clean linens to refresh you,” Cecilia told Lewis and David.
“In the meantime, I shall be making some inquiries at my clubs concerning rumors about Soothcoor and his family’s relationships.”
“I hate it when he does that and learns things I am not privy to,” Cecilia grumbled. “Dratted men’s clubs.”
The gentlemen laughed.
8
The ticking of the ormolu mantel clock, the impatient tapping of Lady Branstoke’s fingers on the upholstered chair she sat in, and the rustling of papers as James read one document after another were the only sounds in the library.
Rani looked about the room from where she and Lady Branstoke sat in front of his desk and waited for James to finish his review of the documents she had brought from India. The library was a man’s domain, with heavy, dark wine-colored drapes at the pair of windows facing the street. The rest of the room’s walls were lined with mahogany bookshelves, the books all neatly organized. A thick Persian rug covered most of the floor. Twin reading chairs flanked the fireplace. A sofa sat before it.
James tossed the papers on to his gleaming mahogany desk and looked up. “There is nothing in these papers, Miss Rangaswamy, to show if Owen Sedgewick was married or not. They are primarily about his financial dealings. It appears he did well for himself.”
Rani looked dismayed. She stared down at the small pile of papers as she bit her lower lip.
“You are certain they were married?” he asked.
“Yes, yes. Memsahib, she speaks of it, and she smiled when she did.” Rani frowned. “Though she said it was a secret from the Company.”
James nodded. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “I can see that. Over the last decade, the East India Company has frowned on Anglo-Indian mixed marriages.”
“Why?” Cecilia asked, her delicate features drawn together in a frown. She picked up the papers to review.
“Because of James Kirkpatrick. He took on the cultural manner, dress, and—some think—the religion of India to the extent that the Duke of Wellington, during his time in India, wondered at the man’s loyalty to Britain, and if he, or others like him in their passion for everything Indian, might have compromised loyalties and become spies for India.”
“But consorts and natural-born children are allowed?”
“It isn’t so much as they are allowed as they are ignored,” James said wryly. “And since the Kirkpatrick situation, more British wives have been allowed to accompany their husbands to India. In the last century, a wife accompanying her husband wasn’t automatically allowed. It was an arduous process to petition for a family to go to India.”
“So, men took Indian women as consorts for companionship,” Cecilia concluded.
James nodded.
“And when the consort dies, the children go away,” Rani bitterly added.
James and Cecilia looked at her curiously. “What do you mean?” Cecilia asked.
“The man, he loves his woman. Not so much his children. Women die, they send away children. Sent to relatives, sold, sent to an orphanage.” She shrugged. “Just so the man did not have to bother with them.”
“How awful!” Cecilia exclaimed.
James looked compassionately at her. “This is personal for you.”
Rani looked down and nodded.
Cecilia stood up, quivering with indignation, her twilight blue eyes flashing. “James, this cannot be allowed! We must bring this up to Parliament.”
“My love, The East India Company has been allowed to make their own laws for over one hundred years. Parliament would not take an interest.”
“But that’s outrageous!” Cecilia paced behind the chair she’d sat in.
“It is much the same as what happens here in England with a man’s mistress,” he reminded her. He turned to Rani. “Miss Rangaswamy, if I may ask, do you know who your father is?”
She shook her head. “My uncle, he knows, but I don’t ask. My uncle came and got me from an orphanage. He raised me in his family as a daughter. He was a teacher. Many families wanted sons to have a chance to work for the company.”
