One Wicked Winter Night
MARYJOPUTNEY
Chapter 1
Bombay, India
Summer 1816
Dawn was the best time of day here. Night had cooled the air and the savage heat of high noon was still hours away. The air was fragrant with scents unknown in England, and in the trees bright birds were busy about their early morning business.
Lady Diana Lawrence, the blackest sheep of her generation of the noble Lawrence family, curled up on the teak bench of her bedroom’s balcony and admired the morning mists floating over the field that lay beyond the house. Dim shapes resolved into an elephant. An oxcart. A graceful woman in a sari carrying a bundle of sticks. The timeless rhythms of India.
She felt a sudden sharp longing for the mists of home drifting over the still surface of the Broads. Water birds and reeds and fishermen in low boats gliding across the silvery waters.
She’d left England over seven years before. The general reason was her craving to see the world; the specific one had been the shattering pain of a doomed love affair. In the years since, she’d traveled widely and seen many strange and wondrous sights.
After several years of traveling ever eastward, she’d come to rest in India, but she’d never felt that she would stay here forever. Perhaps it was time to go home, because England was home and always would be.
She took a sip of her cardamom-flavored tea. That tea would be something she would take home with her. She asked her companion, “Do you think you’d like England? It’s not as warm, but I guarantee you’ll continue to eat regularly.”
He yawned, showing sharp feline teeth, then tucked his white nose under his long black tail. The Panda was a pragmatist. As long as there was food, he would be content.
Now the sky had lightened enough to read the letter that had arrived the evening before from her favorite niece, Lady Aurora Lawrence Vance. She was known as “Roaring Rory” in some circles, just as Diana had been proclaimed “the Dashing Diana.” Or even “the Devilish Diana.” More proof of how alarmingly alike she and Rory were.
But Rory’s life had taken a surprising turn toward love, marriage, and stability. Though not, Diana was sure, tedium.
Having savored the anticipation long enough, she opened the oilcloth packet that had protected the letter on its journey halfway around the world.
My darling Aunt Diana!
So much news to share! (Oh, I must be careful or I will run out of exclamation points before the end of this missive!)
For someone who always found the prospect of marriage deeply alarming, I’m finding the reality quite deeply wonderful.
Diana laughed, feeling Rory’s bubbling personality as strongly as if she were in the room. She returned to the letter.
Once more I give thanks to my wonderful visit with you in India because that led to being captured by corsairs on the way home, which was not wonderful but did lead me to meeting Gabriel, which never would have happened if I’d been more sensible and less captured.
When I wrote my last letter, I believe that I said we were leasing a rather absurdly large house in London because it was the best available. I also mentioned that we were looking for a modest estate near London.
However, instead of buying an estate of our own, we decided to make Gabriel’s grandfather’s estate, Langbridge, our country home. It’s very sensible because Gabriel will eventually inherit the property and he wants to become acquainted with the land and people. Having spent so many years at sea, he says, it will take time to learn farming and estate management.
Of course he’s learning quickly and enjoying the challenge. Most of all, he loves having a stable full of horses and being able to ride whenever he wishes, which wasn’t possible in his sea captain life. Now we ride together, which is a high point of our days. Or was—I’m not riding as often now for reasons I’ll get to soon.
But the real issue is not learning the land, but the fact that his grandparents are getting old and they need us. His grandmother is a darling and we plotted together to persuade the men that the move was a good idea.
The negotiations made the Congress of Vienna look straightforward! The years of estrangement after Admiral Vance disowned Gabriel made matters awkward, but Gabriel wants to make up for those years, and his grandfather, once England’s most rigid retired admiral, now yearns for Gabriel’s company and decided he was willing to accept my unruly self as part of the package.
I miss Cousin Constance dreadfully, but we exchange letters often, the United States being much closer than India, though not precisely close. We’re collaborating on new stories.
She sends her love to you, along with the happy news that she and Jason now have a baby boy! Named Richard Gabriel Landers in honor of Jason’s father and myGabriel. She assures me that he is the best and most beautiful baby in North America.
Diana thought nostalgically of the fun the three of them had had when Rory and Constance had come for a long visit, the only members of the Lawrence family to make it all the way to India. Those months were the most enjoyable Diana had experienced here. Constance was illegitimate, the daughter of Diana’s least reliable brother, but she had grown up sweet and kind and wise. She was Diana’s second-favorite niece, though really she shouldn’t make comparisons. Rory and Constance were both wonderful.
Constance and I also have another book baby! (Oh, dear, the exclamation points are breaking out again!)The Shining Blade, our corsair book, has now been published and is quite the rage! Have I thanked you lately for sending our first books to your publisher friend in London? He has done well by us, under the stern eye of my father, who handles all our contracts and makes sure we aren’t swindled.
Have you ever thought of publishing your own work? Not novels, as I’m the one with the lurid Gothic imagination, but your travel journals. They’re quite wonderful—you have such a keen eye and a sense of humor about the travails of travel, and warmth for the people you meet and the differences and the similarities among us.
