Chapter Nine #2
She felt the heat in her cheeks—the second time today—and looked at Gordon’s mane, which did not shine.
She reached forward anyway and stroked the back of the mare’s neck.
“I must confess Gordon is a very smooth ride. I am not overly pitched to either side, nor do I feel much impact from her steps.”
“I knew you would see things my way.”
Lila laughed and patted the horse’s neck again.
Her mind was still very much focused on the prior topic of conversation, however.
“I read an article not long ago about women taken to India each spring in search of military husbands. They were often older, or perhaps not as highly bred as a typical debutante here in England. Did you see much of that?”
“Ah yes, the fishing fleet,” he said with a grin.
“A hundred or so women sent out to settlements with a thousand men. It is a reasonable idea, and for many men—and women—it has worked well, but I believe most of those women came because they had no other choice. Many never find the contentment they hoped for, and a fair amount left as soon as they were able, married or not.”
She was trying to think of something more to say when he began to talk again.
“I would not usually discuss matters of business with a woman, but from our prior conversations I deduce that you are not to be put off by it.”
“Not at all,” she said, perhaps too eagerly. She evened out her tone. “I have a wide variety of interests.”
He must have decided to take her at her word. “When I was first stationed in India, another soldier and I went in on an investment. Many military men do so in hopes of making a fortune they can then take back to England one day.”
Lila nodded. This type of thing was common knowledge, and she had supposed he made exactly this kind of investment since he was now in the market for a farm of his own.
That he was taking her into his confidence, however, was far more than she’d hoped for.
Many married women did not fully understand the extent of their husband’s holdings.
Most did not want to know. In yet one more way Lila was reminded that she was not like most English women.
What surprised her was that, in this moment, she did not want to be.
“This partner and I purchased a tea plantation and over the years improved and expanded it as we could spare the time and expense. When he retired five years ago, he took over the management of the farm, which has only increased its success, but for each year he manages the plantation, he gets two percent of my ownership.”
“So he now has ten percent of what you once held.”
“Exactly,” Mory said, pleased with her attentiveness. “We began as fifty-fifty partners, but we are now sixty-forty, with him holding the majority. In February we shall be sixty-two and thirty-eight.”
“It seems a fair arrangement,” Lila said. “Other than the fact that in twenty years you will have no ownership at all.”
“Yes, but the profits continue to increase, and so it is not a poor arrangement for either one of us. At least not so far. There was a time I considered retiring to India as well, or perhaps my partner and I would trade off—a year in England and a year in India. I would retain my percentage, and we would both have the chance to reconnect with family and society of our homeland.”
“Why did you not pursue that course?” Lila asked when he did not offer additional information.
“We would need a joint holding here to accommodate our time in England,” Mortimer said.
“And he has never expressed an interest to come to England. He married after retirement to a widow who had lived in Bombay for more than a decade. She is well suited to the lifestyle, and I did not want to seem ungrateful for all they have done for the plantation thus far. And, once again, such a thing would require a great deal of the woman I should marry. It seems a much simpler matter to set up a holding of my own in England from the profits of the plantation this last decade and offset my decrease in India with an increase here. Basic economics, really, and without the difficulty of convincing a woman to leave everything she knows.”
I would do it, Lila thought to herself, genuinely intrigued by the idea.
She had Uncle Peter, of course, and would miss the comforts of English life, but adventure of exotic lands and new cultures seemed a fair trade.
But then, she had Neville here too. Thinking of him caused her to swallow with discomfort.
How was it she could forget about him so easily?
And it was not as though Mory had made her an offer.
But what if he did? And what if she told him she would go to India and live on that plantation?
Would she be happy there? Could she live without familiar things and people?
She couldn’t guarantee her own success at making such adaptations, of course, but she would be eager to do her best.
“Where does this road lead?” Mory asked, interrupting her thoughts that were rather embarrassing to have been so lost within.
She turned to look in the direction Mory was pointing. “Toward some ruins,” Lila said. “They are a few miles up that road, though the road narrows some, the farther you go in.”
“A few miles might be too far a distance,” he said. “I took the liberty of asking the cook to have luncheon ready for us at noon.”
“If time is the determining factor,” Lila said, easing Gordon to the side of the road in case Mr. Luthford took her up on her suggestion.
“I do know a shortcut.” The part of her character that craved experiences and intensity was fairly screaming at her to be shown to him—a man who could certainly appreciate such wild bits of character.
He raised his eyebrows.
“Through the meadow there,” she said, pointing to the western field with her chin.
“At the tree line there is a path that winds through the wood. That part is a bit perilous if you become inattentive, but it is beautiful. Then we have to go over a rather significant rise, but once we do that the ruins are just before us. Half the distance of the road, I would guess.”
“And you are not intimidated by perils and rises?” he asked.
In reply she smiled, leaned forward and slightly right to balance herself, and gave Gordon a snap of the reins.
She did not expect such a quick jump forward but was able to retain herself as Gordon broke into a run Lila did not think such a thick horse capable of.
She leaned down and wove her fingers through Gordon’s mane.
“Don’t lose me, girl,” she said against the wind as the meadow grass flew beneath Gordon’s legs.
A flick of Gordon’s ear felt like a promise that if Lila did her part, they would both enjoy this ride very much.
Lila didn’t dare look behind her for reasons of balance, but she didn’t need to.
Soon enough Braystorm’s nose came into peripheral view, and moments later Lila and Mory were side by side, skimming over the meadow as though they were rocks skipping upon the surface of a pond.
Lila had only ever ridden thus when she was alone and, while she couldn’t be sure what possessed her to share this part of herself now, she had no regrets.
The wind in her face, Gordon’s solid strength beneath her, and an increasingly interesting man at her side seemed to be an analogy of the life and freedom she wanted to hold with the same tightness as the reins in her hands.