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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Eleanor and Nathan, after a few more minutes of being wrapped in each other's arms, returned back to the room where the man lay dying. When they returned, the other men were covering his body with a white cloth.
Eleanor's breathing hitched. He had passed.
She turned to Nathan who had his head hung low. He was showing respect for the departed like the other men in the room and Eleanor, too, followed them in their actions before they all left the room, Nathan closing the door behind them.
'We shall cremate him as soon as possible.' Nathan's words cut the silence which had persisted and Eleanor looked at him. His words had been directed towards the youngest of the men - he was tall and lean and had a moustache much like most men she had seen in India. Like the rest, he wore a long, loose white shirt and a white cloth which wrapped around his legs.
The man nodded at Nathan before relaying what he had said to the other men who all nodded in reply.
'For the lady's sake,' Nathan said, inclining his head towards her, 'we shall henceforth speak in English. She does not understand Hindi and shall be with us the coming months.'
The man who Nathan had spoken to before bowed low before her. 'My thanks to you, Your Grace, for agreeing to aid us in our mission,' he said in a thickly accented but melodious voice. 'It is an honour to have you with us.'
Eleanor acknowledged his words with a tilt of her head and smiled faintly. 'The honour is all mine, kind sir.'
'I am sorry, Your Grace, but my men do not know much English. Although they can speak a little - very little - they find it extremely difficult to converse in the language. Do excuse them. I am well-versed in the language, though, and anything you wish to relay to them, I shall do so.' His eyes which were a deep black and held much warmth which soothed Eleanor's frazzled nerves on account of the state of the departed man.
'Thank you,' she said softly. 'Forgive my manners but what is your name?
The man smiled warmly. 'My name is quite long and hard to pronounce for an English tongue. For your sake, please call me Ram.'
'Ram,' Eleanor tested out the name and turned to Nathan who had been observing the conversation silently. His face showed amusement. No doubt he was amused by her inability to pronounce the name which she knew held no resemblance to what Ram had said.
'It is a pleasure to meet you, Ram,' Eleanor said, still mispronouncing it. 'I am Eleanor.'
Ram bowed his head and the other men too, quickly did so.
'We shall reconvene tomorrow, gentlemen,' Nathan interrupted, his loud voice booming. There was a murmur of assent from the group and Eleanor knew that they had understood those words.
'Until tomorrow, Your Graces.' Ram bowed again and Nathan held Eleanor gently by the elbow and steered her in the direction of the stairs.
'What do you think?' Nathan asked her as they made their way down to the room below and out of the building. The clouds in the sky had grown darker since she had last seen them and she knew that if they did not reach shelter soon, they were going to be drenched.
