African Enchantment (11 page)

Magdalene shivered in distaste. Harriet stared incredulously at Dr Walther.

‘Slave? Are you trying to tell me that Raoul Beauvais has slaves?'

‘
Everyone
in Khartoum has slaves,' Sebastian said easily. ‘Only others do not flaunt the fact like Beauvais does.'

‘Certainly they do not parade their native mistresses in public,' Dr Walther agreed.

Harriet felt the blood leave her face. There was a pounding in her ears so that she could hardly hear her own voice as she asked,

‘Mistresses?' Her eyes dilated, her breath coming in harsh gasps.

‘Dr Walther is unfair to him,' Sebastian said, drinking more wine. ‘Beauvais has only one. The Circassian – Narinda.'

From the head of the table there came a groan as Lady Crale reached weakly for her glass. Harriet was oblivious of it. The whole world seemed to have shifted on its axis. The faces around her jumped and danced; the walls of the dining room were closing in on her.

‘Are you feeling all right?' Sebastian Crale was asking with concern.

Dr Walther was urging a glass of water upon her.

‘I … Yes …' She pressed a hand to her throbbing temple.

Lady Crale rose smoothly in a rustle of skirts. ‘ Miss Latimer has undergone a most arduous journey. I should have realised that she needed to rest for a much longer period. Jali! Hasara! Kindly accompany me to Miss Latimer's room.'

A firm but kindly hand was placed beneath Harriet's elbow. Dazedly she allowed Lady Crale to help her to her feet. Her hostess was saying smoothly,

‘It was most remiss of me to expect Miss Latimer to endure a dinner party in her weakened condition. If you will excuse us Magdalene, Dr Walther …'

With the decorously dressed Sudanese maids hurrying in her wake, Lady Crale escorted Harriet from the dining room and towards her bedroom.

‘I'm sorry … I've ruined your dinner party …' Inbred politeness asserted itself.

‘Nonsense. It was I who was at fault expecting you to be strong enough for such a social occasion when you have scarcely had time to rest after your arrival.'

As Lady Crale removed her steadying arm, Harriet staggered towards the bed and sank down heavily. She looked ghastly. Her delicately-boned, heart-shaped face was pinched and drawn. The eyes that had sparkled with such delight at the sight of the rose-pink gown, were now glazed with shock and lustreless.

Lady Crale tightened her lips. She had feared the worst when Harriet had told her the identity of her rescuer. Raoul Beauvais was a man shunned by all decent society.

For two years he had lived quite openly with a slave girl as his mistress. He had even had the effrontery to enter European homes with her as his guest. He had offended every lady of sensibility and every gentleman of honour. Only his illustrious family name had saved him from complete ostracism. His personal wealth far exceeded that of a British consul and reduced the vast riches of the Turkish Governor-General to a seemingly trifling amount. It was rumoured that he was a personal friend of Emperor Napoleon III and certainly the authorities in Cairo and Alexandria held him in high esteem. Lady Crale shuddered.
They
were not insulted by being presented to a native as if she were an equal. She had heard whispers as to the indecencies that took place behind the high walls of Raoul Beauvais' Khartoum residence. The Circassian was displayed openly: how many others were kept in secret?

Lady Crale was not an unworldly woman. She had accompanied her husband to many remote and uncivilised corners of the globe. To India and Afghanistan; to the Levant and to Africa. In the course of her travels she had met adventurers, renegades, rogues and free-booters. In her opinion, Raoul Beauvais fell into all four categories. Unfortunately he had two qualities that none of the others had possessed. He was fiendishly handsome and his charm, when he chose to exert it, was phenomenal. It was hardly surprising that the gently-reared missionary's daughter should have fallen victim to it. Nor, taking into consideration Harriet's own charms, was it surprising that Beauvais should have sought to take advantage of her vulnerable position. A dark, unspeakable thought entered Lady Crale's mind.
Had
he taken advantage of it? The sensual Frenchman had been alone with Harriet for several weeks. She sank weakly onto the bed beside Harriet.

What she was thinking was impossible, monstrous. Harriet Latimer was an English girl; not a Circassian who could be bought for twenty pounds. She said, striving to keep her voice calm,

‘I had hoped to spare you the kind of conversation you heard this evening. It was for that reason that I deemed it best you did not announce the name of your companion.'

‘But it can't be true!' Harriet turned to her, wild-eyed, and Lady Crale's apprehension grew. ‘Mr Beauvais is a man of honesty and integrity! He would not keep slaves! He would not make mistresses of them!'

‘I am afraid that the latter is beyond dispute, Harriet. The Circassian has enjoyed and occupied that position in Mr Beauvais' household for over two years now. It is known all over the Sudan.'

‘
No!
' Revulsion flooded through Harriet. ‘ I refuse to believe it! There has been a mistake! A misunderstanding!'

‘The European society in Khartoum is small,' Lady Crale said firmly. ‘There can be no mistaking the manner in which Mr Beauvais has publicly paraded the girl in question. Certainly there can be no mistaking that he bought her as a slave. He did so in full view of half Khartoum's population.' She paused. She was accustomed to being silent on such matters but the circumstances called for frankness. She said, ‘ Circassians are rare in Khartoum. The slaves auctioned are usually from the interior – Dinkas or Shiluks. The unfortunate creatures are bought by trades and transported to the coast. However, a few are sold into service here in Khartoum.' She paused delicately. ‘Especially the girls if they are at all pretty. The Turkish officials in Khartoum are not in the habit of being accompanied by their wives. It makes for … regrettable behaviour.'

Bile rose in Harriet's throat. ‘ I have already come into contact with that side of life in Africa,' she said through parched lips. ‘In Berber, at the home of the Pasha.'

‘Then you will appreciate that what I am telling you is the truth. It is British policy to put an end to the slave trade. The attempt to do so occupies a vast amount of my husband's time. Your dear father fought valiantly against the practice in Cairo and would have done so here in Khartoum if he had lived. Of course, the Turkish Governor-General denies knowing anything about the slaves that are auctioned publicly, day in and day out. We have not, and can never hope to receive help in stamping out the abomination from such a source. The Turkish garrison in the town is composed almost entirely of Sudanese natives: natives who have been bought. Malaria constantly depletes their numbers and the garrison can only be kept at full strength by resorting to such measures.'

‘It is unspeakable,' Harriet said, hugging her folded arms close to her breast. ‘I accept all that you tell me about slavery in Khartoum, Lady Crale. But one thing I cannot accept is that the Circassian is either Raoul Beauvais' slave or his mistress.'

‘Circassian slaves are very rare and very beautiful,' Lady Crale said, a tiny spot of colour in her cheeks. ‘The bidding for the girl called Narinda was extraordinarily high. An aide of the governor's was determined to have her and outbid all the local traders. A large crowd had gathered by the time Raoul Beauvais stunned the European community by openly bidding against the Turk. Of course, Mr Beauvais is a Frenchman, not an Englishman, but his behaviour could only attract scandal. The girl was, and is, exquisite, and every man there knew the reason why Beauvais and the Turk were bidding so high a price for her.'

Harriet felt as if the breath was being squeezed, inch by inch, from her body. ‘No,' she repeated in vain again. ‘ It cannot be. It is impossible.'

Lady Crale cleared her throat. ‘You must excuse me for speaking frankly to you, Harriet. You are without mother and father. You have no guardian and therefore it is my Christian duty to take upon myself that responsibility whilst you are under my roof. I must now ask you a question of the utmost delicacy.' She paused awkwardly. ‘On your journey to Khartoum, did Mr Beauvais display any untoward intimacy towards you?'

Harriet's cheeks flushed hotly.

Lady Crale passed a hand across her eyes. ‘I see. It is worse than I had feared.' She stood up and began to pace the room, saying agitatedly,

‘There can be no question of reparation, Harriet. Mr Beauvais has treated you infamously. If you had hoped for marriage, I must disillusion you. The Beauvais are one of the oldest and richest families of France. The differences between your social positions are enormous: insurmountable. Under the circumstances there must be no delay in your returning to Cairo and home.' Her voice shook with emotion. ‘His seduction of you is inexcusable. It is …'

Harriet sprang to her feet. ‘Seduction? I have told you repeatedly that Mr Beauvais' behaviour towards me was that of a gentleman! He did not take advantage of me in the way that you are suggesting! Indeed, he was most careful of my reputation. He wanted me to be suitably chaperoned by you before announcing his intentions.'

Lady Crale's eyebrows rose. ‘His intentions?'

‘Yes … He …' Harriet floundered. ‘He was going to ask for my hand in marriage.'

Lady Crale's face was incredulous. ‘Mr Beauvais is a confirmed bachelor. Besides, I have explained to you that he is no ordinary gentleman. Why, he is a personal friend of the Emperor! I am afraid that he has been toying with your affections, Harriet. Possibly in the hope that such a promise would persuade you to become his mistress.'

‘But I am not so!'

Lady Crale looked at the tormented young woman before her and knew that she spoke the truth. ‘Then let us be grateful that your upbringing rendered you immune from his blandishments,' she said, walking towards Harriet and resting her hands on her shoulders. ‘You have been sorely deceived, child. You are not the first. Others, more sophisticated than yourself, have also been taken in by Raoul Beauvais' smooth tongue and unscrupulous charm. I suggest that you sleep now. Your feeling of betrayal will have lessened by the morning.' She leaned forward and kissed Harriet briefly on the cheek before leaving the room.

Harriet covered her face with her hands, reliving every word and gesture that had passed between herself and Raoul Beauvais. Had she assumed too much? A sliver of ice entered her heart. He had never told her he loved her. He had never said that he wished her to become his wife. She had thought the words unnecessary. She walked out on to the darkened balcony, her eyes anguished. He had kissed her and she had responded. She had built up a castle of dreams, believing herself to be loved and cherished. The first sign that she was not so had been his strange behaviour when they had arrived in Khartoum. His assertions that he had business that was more important than escorting her to the consulate. Had that business been his reunion with a dark-eyed, dusky-skinned slave who had aroused the interest of all Khartoum?

‘No,' she whispered beneath her breath. ‘No, no. It cannot be!' She remembered Berber and the Pasha's residence and the way he had introduced her in order to protect her reputation: as his cousin. For a few delirious moments she had thought, even then, that he was going to announce her as his bride-to-be. He had not done so. According to Lady Crale he would never do so.

There was a slight knock at the door and Jali entered.

‘I have come to assist you with your gown,' she said shyly.

Mechanically Harriet turned and allowed Jali to undo the buttons of her gown. The rose-pink taffeta slid from her shoulders and she stepped out of the fine material without a backward glance.

‘Lady Crale has asked me to give you a cooling powder,' Jali said, motioning to the glass that she had set on a low table. ‘ It will help you to sleep.'

‘Thank you.'

Jali's eyes were troubled. She had overheard the conversation between her mistress and the English girl. She would have liked to have spoken to the English girl but it was not her place to do so and would only incur Lady Crale's wrath. Unhappily she left the room and as she closed the door behind her she heard the sound of bitter tears.

When Harriet awoke she lay for a few moments staring at the ceiling and the brilliant shafts of sunlight. Her head ached from the tears of the previous evening. She rose and drew back the shutters, immediately assailed by the sights and sounds of Africa. Why had she cried so? She hadn't believed the monstrous allegations made about Raoul. Today he would visit her at the consulate and there would be apologies from Lady Crale and her son. Later on there would be apologies from the Walthers also. Raoul had been away many weeks, possibly months, on his expedition and no doubt it had been in his absence that the vicious tongues had started to wag. She had never paid heed to gossip, not even when it had been the harmless gossip enjoyed by her aunts. Certainly she was not going to pay any heed to the dinner table gossip of the previous evening. Raoul was visiting her today. He would tell her the truth.

Lady Crale had been generous in her hospitality. Other gowns hung beside the rose-pink taffeta. Different gowns in light, cool muslin. Harriet hesitated and then dressed in the high-necked, full-sleeved and tight-wristed blouse that Hashim had procured for her in Berber. Both the blouse and the accompanying skirt had been scrupulously cleaned and ironed and though less fashionable than the ones that hung so enticingly in the vast wardrobe, they had come from Raoul and she valued them accordingly.

Jali entered shyly to assist her in her toilette, braiding Harriet's long golden hair with obvious pleasure.

Harriet watched her through the glass and wondered if the girl was an employed servant or a slave. Sebastian Crale had intimated that Europeans in Khartoum made use of slaves but that they did so circumspectly. It had been the openness of Raoul's buying of the Circassian that had caused outrage.