Chapter 39 Kitty #2
The kindness in her voice undid me. Tears also welled in my eyes, and I bowed my head. “I barely remember my parents. And my mother . . . I have longed to know her.”
Her gaze turned wistful, her fingers brushing the edge of her dopatta.
“Your mother was a light in this world, much like you. She was strong-willed, intelligent, and fiercely protective of her children. She would be proud of you, Noor. Unfortunately, she saw your father on a diplomatic meeting and could think of no one else. Her impetuous choice cost her greatly in the end.”
Impetuous . . . as I had been. Yet the Lord had turned my rash and insecure steps into something new. My mother’s story had ended in sorrow, but mine would not. I would walk secure in faith and love, and in that, I knew she would find joy.
My grandmother asked about our plans, and I hesitated before plunging ahead. She might not like my choices, but I had made them.
Her gaze flickered when I mentioned William Carey and the girls’ school I wished to start.
My mention of the telescope made her smile.
“Your mother was a scholar, as all royal women are. I remember the two of you on the rooftop, always studying the sky.”
She folded her jeweled hands on her lap, her smile now a mixture of sadness and understanding. “You’ve come to me in a dress much like the British women. How very English you are—even in your accent. I should not be surprised to hear of you joining their faith, my little Noor.”
The weight of her words settled over me.
She was right. My life would have been vastly different if I had stayed in Hyderabad—a life of opulence but also similar confinement.
I might never have discovered a passion for teaching astronomy as encouraged by Caroline Herschel, never would have met Freddy nor Sebastian.
Edward would not have his beloved bride—my sweetest friend, who would finally be a sister.
I would not have found refuge in that moss-covered church in the country.
We spoke further over dinner, our conversation drifting between memories and the present.
My grandmother told me stories of my mother, of her laughter and sharp wit, and of the palace life that had shaped her.
I shared of Edward and Freddy. The light shifted in the room, growing softer until the stars came out, and I realized it was time to retire.
But it would not be the last visit I would enjoy with my grandmother.
She kissed me on the forehead before I left.
Her invitation left a lasting warmth in my chest. “You will come again, my little Noor, won’t you? I so longed to see my daughter’s child. It is as if I have Khair again.”
I promised her I would return. As often as she wished.
Later that night, as I stepped out into the courtyard where Edward and I had been stolen, the bittersweetness of the moment overwhelmed me.
The palace, with all its beauty and tradition, was a world I could admire but never fully belong to.
My grandmother had welcomed me, had shown me kindness, but I knew I was a stranger here, tied to this place only by the fragile tendrils of memory.
I would never follow her faith.
Sebastian walked beside me, his expression concerned as he took my hand. “What a lovely woman. Yet I see such sadness in you. How did you find the visit?”
“Beautiful,” I said, though my voice hitched.
As the carriage carried us back through Hyderabad toward the residency, where temporary quarters had been arranged for us, my heart ached.
“Grandfather was right, Sebastian. I don’t fit into any society. Not truly—unless I bend myself fully to the whims of others,” I admitted to him.
My parents likely would not have released me to live a life I enjoyed. The English ton had toyed with me, refusing to fully accept me as I was.
And now . . . Neither name suited me.
Who was I?
He tilted my face toward his, his expression tender.
I did not realize I had spoken my question out loud.
“Kitty,” he answered, “you are my beloved. Katherine. Kit. Kitty. Noor. You must decide who you really are, and it must not depend on how others view you. I fell in love with a woman who adored her family, who searched the stars with hope. I will stay with you until the very end, no matter how you change. I’ve seen enough of your heart to know how deeply you love.
Lord willing, I will always be by your side. ”
Tears slipped down my cheeks, but his words filled the empty spaces within me. He drew me into his arms, and I let myself rest there, feeling the steady beat of his heart while Isaiah’s declaration whispered through me.
Lift up your eyes on high, and behold who hath created these things, that bringeth out their host by number: he calleth them all by names by the greatness of his might, for that he is strong in power; not one faileth.
I was not alone. Why should I fear the future? Despite the sorrow Edward and I had experienced, we had both found a home and a family. And I had finally discovered true freedom, just as Freddy and Sebastian had promised.
Later that evening, I sat by the window in our quarters of the residency and finally penned a letter to my grandfather. The words came slowly, faltering at first, but eventually, they flowed as my pen flew across the foolscap.
Grandfather, I forgive you.
I cannot carry this rage any longer and allow it to destroy me. Whatever your reasons for your actions, they have shaped me into the woman I am.
I would no longer be without a voice. How could I be without a voice, if the heavenly Father above shaped my path and whispered where I was to take the next step? Nor would I drink the poison of bitterness, allowing it to steal the best parts of me and the love I had to give others.
When I finished, I folded the letter and set it aside to be posted in the morning.
I could only pray that Grandfather would find peace at the end of his life.
I would likely never see him again. He did not deserve mercy, but then none of us did, and I could not help but remember my husband’s grace toward Lord Chudley, even with the scar slashed across his left cheek.
No matter my grandfather and Lord Sinclair’s actions, God remained in control.
As I gazed out at the stars that evening, their light piercing the darkness, the words of the psalmist came to me:
When I consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers, the moon and the stars, which thou hast ordained; What is man, that thou art mindful of him? and the son of man, that thou visitest him?
I closed my eyes, a sense of peace washing over me. I belonged to the One who had created the heavens. He had never lost me, even in my confusion and despair. His plan, though often hidden, had been weaving a tapestry of grace and purpose in my life.
With Sebastian’s love and my faith to guide me, I could step forward into the future, trusting in the One who had called the stars by name.
Outside our room, a balcony awaited. I removed my telescope from my luggage.
Above me, white orbs circled on high in a celestial dance.
A hand touched my back, drawing me from my study.
“My darling wife.” My husband grinned at me as he waggled his eyebrows—as flirtatious as ever.
He wore a loose white shirt, and, to my delight, his hair now curled rakishly about his neck—longer than it had been in London, when he’d cut it short to impress me.
I discovered I much preferred it this way.
“How can I draw your attention away from such a sight? I daresay I can hardly compete with such magnificence.”
“A kiss, Mr. Sinclair. A kiss ought to prove distracting enough.”
He obliged, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, laughing when he nuzzled into mine.
And as the night stretched on, the stars above seemed just a little closer, their light a reminder that no matter where this life led us, we were not alone.