Surrender To Love. Rosemary RogersЧитать онлайн книгу.
“Oh, did you unpack for me? Thank you! I must find something cool to wear…” From one of the sandalwood-scented drawers Alexa took out her most comfortable costume—the camboy and brief, low-cut bodice of the Sinhalese peasant women. She could detect no change of expression in the face of the young servant woman who stood waiting respectfully for her next command. Menika. Yes, that was her name; she had heard Aunt Harry say it. A pretty name that meant “precious gem.” And Menika herself was pretty, and deserved more than a life of waiting on other people. But what other alternatives did she have either? I wish I could talk to her and find out how she feels and what she thinks, Alexa thought; but there was a barrier between them that had been put there by circumstances and a rigorously enforced system of etiquette and convention that bristled with rules and reminders of what was done and “simply not done.”
So instead of saying what she really wanted to say, Alexa walked to the opened windows and looked out, asking over her shoulder, “Is tonight the night of the full moon?”
“It is the night after the Poya, as the Buddhists call the night of a full moon.” Menika corrected herself quickly, hoping her slip had not been noticed. She had stolen a few minutes to visit a temple yesterday—Poya Day to the Buddhists—and even her mother knew nothing about it.
“My ayah is a Buddhist and I’ve gone with her to temple on Poya Day a few times,” Alexa said mildly. “Our temple has a pet cobra who likes milk, of all things! He’s really quite affectionate after you get to know him.” And then, so unexpectedly that she reminded a confused Menika of a striking cobra herself, Alexa went on to say brightly: “But of course an almost-full moon on such a clear night as this means that we should find our way to this bathing pool quite easily, don’t you think?” She added patiently, noticing the look of shock on Menika’s hitherto expressionless face, “The Governor’s pool that you were telling me about.”
“The missy is joking, surely?”
“I most certainly am not! I want to swim in the moonlight without any clothes on, like a pagan! And I can swim—very well indeed—so you need not be afraid that I will drown and they’ll blame you. Also…” Alexa sighed, “do you think as long as we are alone you could stop calling me missy and call me Alex, or Alexa instead? In any event, I must tell you that I am determined to go anyway, with or without your help, now that my mind is made up. Although I promise I’ll be very discreet and not get you into any trouble. Well?” And then: “Please?”
On the verge of offering Menika a bribe of a gold bracelet or several rupees, Alexa thought better of it and instead used the courteous word karunakolla, which also meant please but was for the most part used between equals and implied respect for the other person at the same time.
“You shouldn’t ask such a thing of me. If the other lady wakes up she will be very angry and blame me! And it might not be safe to swim there alone. Colombo is full of thieves and bad men who might think, seeing you dressed like…not like an English lady…”
“We are surely not going to be troubled by any desperate characters in the gardens of Queen’s House? I remember seeing uniformed guards everywhere when we arrived.” Alexa’s voice went from coaxing to teasingly mischievous. “Oh, do unbend for once, Menika! Have you never been tempted to do something forbidden? Isn’t there any special friend that you sometimes slip out to meet? I’m sure you know how we can avoid running into any of the sentries, who are all probably asleep or playing cards at this hour anyway. And I’ll go barefoot, and be very quiet, I promise you. Look, I’ll even take my little pistol just in case we run into a snake—of any species! And I can use it too. I never miss.”
Caught between what Sir John Travers, who was a scholar, would have termed “Scylla and Charybdis,” poor Menika found herself left with no real choice after all. She could hardly let this unusual young Englishwoman try to find the tiny natural inlet known as the Governor’s pool by herself, for if she got lost or something happened to her, she, Menika, would be blamed for everything. But on the other hand, this young Englishwoman wore the costume of the people without a trace of awkwardness, and she had just proved by the swiftness and ease with which she had loaded her pistol that she was quite familiar with such weapons, this one now carefully hidden in the folds of a lace shawl.
If I do as she wishes perhaps it will not turn out badly after all, Menika thought consideringly. After all, she acts as if she can take care of herself as well as any man, and there is no soft fat on her body. Perhaps, once her wish is gratified she will grow bored and want to return. And besides, hadn’t she actually asked her politely instead of ordering?
Sensing surrender, Alexa smiled at Menika, impatiently running fingers through the heavy mass of her hair before twisting it into a knot at the nape of her neck.
“Come, let’s go quickly on this adventure, and I promise not to take too long. And as for my aunt, I know she’ll sleep soundly until morning. She’s probably taken one of her headache powders as she usually does when she is tired and wants to sleep without interruption.”
Resigning herself, Menika bowed her head. “If you are determined, then it would be better, I suppose, if I took you by the easiest and safest way. There is a back staircase that is used only by servants, and it is very narrow—you will have to watch your footing. And there is a secret path. I have never used it myself, but my mother who has worked here for many, many years showed it to me once. There are no guards posted along that path or about the bathing pool either. A previous Governor gave the order…” Menika’s eyes darted to the face of her unlikely companion, and detecting no shock but only a lively curiosity, went on in a soft voice: “He was a man who, like most men, enjoyed women. Others, beside his wife.” Speaking in her native tongue instead of the pidgin English she had acquired, Menika seemed much more at ease. Now she said hastily, “But please, from this moment we must be very quiet. There are guards close by.”
Hurrying along on bare feet over dew-damp grass, feeling and relishing with a mounting sense of exhilaration the freedom from the restriction of layer upon layer of heavy clothing, Alexa wanted to laugh out loud. With Menika leading the way they slipped between tall hedges that shut out most of the moonlight, following a path that was almost completely grassed over so that it was now a mere track. An owl hooted from somewhere close by, and the fragrance of flowers lingered in the air. Some people would have called this a romantic night, but to Alexa it was only another example of the beauty of nature itself. And now, sensing the nearness of the ocean, she began to long for the feel of silky-cool water against her skin…to be floating on her back while she watched the moon float above her, and feeling herself rocked gently by the motion of the never-still sea.
“The…the cry of the owl…it is supposed to be a bad omen!” Menika was obviously nervous.
“Nonsense!” Alexa said as bracingly as Harriet might have done. “The owl is only awake at night. Does the twittering of birds in the daytime alarm you? There is nothing frightening or mysterious about the night; it is merely a time when the sun is shining on the other side of our world…when the sun is resting,” Alexa quickly amended, catching the puzzled look Menika threw over her shoulder.
“I had never thought about it that way,” the girl said with a note of surprise in her low voice. And then she broke off suddenly to point ahead. “That is the place. It was not made by any person, but by the sea itself, slipping through that narrow opening there to form a protected bathing place. But the former Governor I told you about had rough steps cut into the rocks. See? On this side. The pool, however, is quite deep, so I have heard.”
“How beautiful! And especially under the moon! Don’t you want to come in too? I could teach you how to float if you’d trust me.”
“No…no!” Menika stepped backward apprehensively. “I cannot swim, and I would not dare try the water. It frightens me. Please, perhaps we should return to the house? The water looks so black where the moon does not touch it, and it keeps moving as if it was breathing…”
“Well, I’m going in, and this is probably the last opportunity I will have to swim out in the open—under the sky—without all the hampering clothes I shall be expected to wear all