Lady Eleanor Mary Cantwell, daughter of the Marquess of Salford, is a proper young lady. With her golden complexion, raven-black hair, and manners befitting a princess, Lady Eleanor has always been deemed a belle. There is just one problem.
Lady Ele...
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Jaipur, India, 1883
Nathan cursed as the bullock cart he was riding in drove over a stone. He gripped the edge of his seat to prevent himself from falling off. The one thing he could count on in both England as well as India – carriage (in this case, cart) rides were a dreadfully bumpy affair.
The semi-open nature of the cart meant that there was no shortage of dust and it seemed to go straight into his eyes, attacking with a ferociousness Nathan had never been accustomed to. Dash it all, he had thought the heat of Bombay or Madras in summer was unbearable but none of them held a candle to Jaipur's blazing heat.
'Why could she not have settled in a more tropical climate?' he mumbled to himself as he looked at the barren wasteland that surrounded him.
'Kya?' the driver asked in Hindi. Nathan had been concerned that the driver would not understand Hindi with Indian being so richly diverse with a vast number of cultures and languages. Luckily, most in the area spoke it although a lot of local settlements had different languages and dialects.
'Kuch nahin, he responded, dismissing the driver's harmless enquiry at his mumbling and went back to gazing at his surroundings. He had been travelling for weeks now since he had landed at the Bombay port. After nearly eight years of endless tracking and employing many a Bow Street Runner, he had finally found her, tucked away in Jaipur, doing...well, he wasn't quite sure what it was. The only report he had received was that a woman matching her description had been sighted regularly at the local market here. Had he known that the wasteland would be endless, he would have brought a damn camel. Even the bullocks tugging the cart seemed too tired to go any further under the heat of the blistering sun.
When at last, the sight of civilisation came into view, Nathan breathed a long sigh of relief. Finally, the endless journey was coming to an end.
As the cart drew closer and closer, he scanned the village ahead of him. It was small, a lot of houses stacked compactly together, roads formed by the spaces between buildings. As they passed through the gates and well into the village, he was able to discern more of his surroundings. Although the planning of the houses could have been done better, all the houses looked well-maintained – very well-maintained, in fact. The people around him also looked hale and healthy, not a single unsmiling face to be found.
Nathan was surprised. Usually, villages were a cesspool of disease and poverty. The locals here, while they didn't look rich, certainly seemed to be doing well enough.
As they neared the village centre, the cart slowed and Nathan hopped off at the sight of the detective who had been tracking her for the past few months now.
'Welcome, Your Grace,' Mr. Mathews greeted as he alighted.
Nathan tossed a coin to the driver before greeting him back. 'Thank you, Mathews. I trust you did not run into much trouble.'
