Chapter Five: Shore Leave
The Surprise docked in Bombay early the next morning. India and her crewmates received their wages from the Paymaster and were released from duty. Her excitement at the prospect of shore leave and the fulfillment of Barrett's promise was dampened somewhat when he whispered, "Wait for me here," and rushed off without her.
Nagle, Warley, and Doudle encouraged her to accompany them on their search for loose women, but she politely begged off. "I'll just stay here and read for a while." They took her refusal for lack of nerve, so with good-natured laughter and several claps on her back, they left her.
She sat on deck looking down on the busy Bombay docks as goods were being loaded and unloaded on a myriad of ships, including the Surprise. Just beyond the docks, she saw the colorful stalls of a market, but no Barrett. With a pang of disappointment, she tried to enjoy the fresh air and one of Dr. Maturin's nature books. Every time she thought of Barrett her eyes welled up with tears, then she pinched herself on the arm and told herself to dry up. He told her to wait, and wait she would. He'll be back soon.
Barrett rushed into marketplace and tried to hire a rickshaw to take him where he needed to go, but when he told the driver his destination, the Indian laughed and shooed him away. He was forced to travel there on foot. He finally arrived an hour later, sweaty and panting, at the most exclusive brothel in Bombay.
The whitewashed temple was dotted with a delicate floral design and topped with rounded turrets. It was surrounded by meticulously tended gardens. The line of fruit trees and palms were broken only by a lazy river flowing to the south.
He wiped his brow and adjusted his uniform, suddenly disheartened. This had seemed like the perfect way for him to finally be alone with India for a few hours, but now he wasn't so sure. He couldn't bear the thought of taking her to a common whorehouse for the night. She deserved the sacred beauty of the temple, even if it cost him ever penny he had, but what if Devi didn't remember him and sent him away? Barrett heard the sound of girlish laughter in the garden and risked a timid, "Hello."
A woman he instantly recognized as Chandra (how could he ever forget her!), rushed to him. She was as beautiful as he remembered. Her blue silk sari clung to her lithe figure. Her long, dark hair was uncovered and cascaded down her back and breast. Her arms and neck were festooned with gold; her hands and feet were decorated with the henna designs they called mendhi.
"Barrett!" she said brightly, embracing him and placing a chaste kiss on his cheek.
He regarded her with surprise. "You remember me?"
"You are the only Englishman I have ever liked," she said sweetly, slipping her arm through his. "I am sorry but I have no free gifts to bestow today."
"No, that's not why I'm here," he said quickly. "I wish to speak with Vidya Devi. I brought money, all I have."
Chandra nodded and led him inside. In the grand hall, women as beautiful as Chandra danced while customers lounged on silk cushions. Even though their movements were suggestive, even openly sexual, they weren't bawdy like those of an English music hall dancer. These dancers were elegant and playful.
Barrett imagined that the men in the audience were deciding which women they would bed tonight, but he knew it was the women who would do the choosing. He was too mesmerized by the dancers to notice a rear-admiral sitting to his left. The man turned and regarded Barrett with disdain. Barrett gave him a hasty salute which seemed to irritate the officer all the more.
"I thought you said this was an exclusive club, Devi?" puffed the admiral. "But here you are letting common sailors in?"
Vidya Devi, an old woman garbed in a voluminous orange silk sari was helped to her feet by a gorgeous young attendant. With a clap of her hands, the dancers stopped. "He was an invited guest, as are you. Do mind your manners, Admiral."
Barrett's felt his heart in his throat as he prayed the admiral wouldn't take his anger out on him, now that he was so close to having his desires fulfilled. Devi clapped her hands again and the admiral was lulled back into the trance the dancers expertly weaved. Devi approached Barrett slowly, supporting her old body on a gnarled bamboo cane. "Your invitation has expired, young man."
Barrett removed his hat and put his hands together awkwardly. "Nameste, Devi. I know I'm trespassing, but I had to see you. I have a great favor to ask you that I'm willing to pay dearly for…" Barrett reached in his pocket and pulled out a small purse full of gold and silver. Devi took it from him and weighed it in her hand. It was all the money he had in the word, but he suspected his purse was still far too light for Devi to even consider his request.
"You are bold," she said, "even for an Englishmen. What is this favor you would ask of me?"
Barrett took a deep breath and explained his dilemma. Devi laughed with delight as he told his tale of forbidden love and mistaken identity. When he fell silent, Devi opened Barrett's purse and removed one gold sovereign, then handed him the remainder. "I will grant this one favor, Bonden. A more enchanting story I have not heard in an age."
He bowed to the old woman again to show his gratitude. "Shall I fetch India now?"
"India, what a strange name for an English girl." Devi shook her head. "No, I will…fetch her. You will take a bath and after that you will take another. Then you will wait until she is ready."
It had been three hours since Barrett had left the Surprise. Every second waiting for him was agony for India, for she found it impossible to concentrate on the doctor's book; she kept looking up every few minutes to check and see if he had returned.
When she looked down upon the dock this time, she saw an old woman dressed in rich orange silk with a dozen gold bracelets on each wrist. She was leaning on a bamboo cane and looking up at India with a cunning smile.
Instinctively, India knew Barrett had sent her. She grabbed her hat and straightened her smart blue coat then scrambled for the gang-way.
"You are William Sheppard." the old woman said. It was not a question.
India removed her hat and inclined her head. "Yes, Ma'am."
"I am Vidya Devi." Another sly grin. "Come with me…boy."
As soon as they had cleared the dock, Devi let out a boisterous belly laugh. "What fools these Englishmen are! I would have seen through your disguise if I were a blind woman. Your very scent gives you away as a female. You must be a jewel indeed for them to overlook the obvious."
"But no one knows I'm a woman except for Barrettand you," she replied with alarm.
Devi shook her head. "I would not be too sure about that, Mr. Sheppard."
Waiting for them was a private barouche driven by a Hindi man wearing traditional garb and a top hat. With a broad, toothless smile he helped them in and whisked them off to the temple and Barrett.
Devi grinned at India's sharp intake of breath when they arrived. St. Paul's in London was certainly grander than this, though not nearly as interesting or inviting. She covered her mouth in surprise when she realized the statues along the temple's lintel were of Hindi men and women in impossible intimate positions.
India was disappointed when she was met, not by Barrett, but by two young Hindi women, dressed as richly as Devi.
"This is Chandra and Paro," Devi said. "They will prepare you to meet your lover."
"Prepare me?"
"Of course," said Chandra. "You do not wish him to see you like this?"
India shrugged. "He sees me like this all the time."
"Exactly," said Devi in a tone that suspended any further protests. "Don't worry, child. You are in good hands."
Chandra and Paro were so elegant and graceful, not at all like the whores India had seen at other ports-of-call; dirty, painted women bursting out of the top of their corsets, who pulled up their skirts as the sailors passed, by way of advertisement. The charming sound of their bangles jingling on their arms was all the advertisement these beautiful women needed.
These ladies were painted also, but it merely enhanced their considerable natural beauty. On their hands and bare feet were intricate designs of lotus flowers and peacocks, surrounded by paisleys, scallops and curls. "Are those tattoos?"
Paro looked up at Chandra. "No," Chandra answered. "It is mendhihenna paint. It fades with time."
"Shall we paint her hands and feet?" Paro asked with the excitement of a wee child.
"No, Paro, no mendhi," Chandra said with a hint of sadness. "It will not fade for a fortnight and it will give India away as a woman."
With a consoling pat on her head, Paro took India's hand and the two women led her to a large room with whitewashed walls, covered with paintings on silk of even more detailed drawings of couples engaging in the act of love. The floor was strewn with bright pillows, with a low canopied bed at one end of the room and a hand painted screen in the corner. As they brought her behind the screen, India was cheered at the sight of a steaming bath waiting for her.
They indicated that she should undress. India did so reluctantly. If Paro and Chandra had not treated her with such graciousness, she would be sure they were laughing at her behind her back. She was certain she looked ridiculous next to their beauty. She took off her kerchief and threw it on the floor, not wanting to soil the fabric stool next to her. India then turned from them, unbuttoned and removed her shirt. She looked up and saw them marveling at the muslin she always wore tightly bound around her breasts. Paro untied it and with a girlish giggle she pulled it, turning India around and around until she was released from the fabric. India put her hand on Chandra's shoulder to steady herself. All this was making her dizzy.
The strangeness of the surroundings and the hypnotic beauty of these women overwhelmed any feelings of embarrassment. India finished undressing and they helped her into the hot bath, the first she'd had in months. The water was perfumed with sacred lotus blossoms floating on top. Paro and Chandra massaged her back as she washed herself. Every touch down her spine seemed to awaken a part of her body until her entire being was both relaxed and energized.
After a half hour or so, India reluctantly stepped out of the luxurious bath and dried herself off. Chandra and Paro dressed her in a sari of red silk, with bangles on her wrists, bells on her ankles and around her waist. When India finally saw herself in the mirror, she had to touch her reflection before she could believe it was actually her.
"You are a great beauty underneath all that dirt," Chandra said.
India laughed, but didn't doubt Chandra's sincerity. She wouldn't have used the phrase 'great beauty', but she confessed she did look quite pretty. Who would have thought such a thing possible? India shook her hips shyly to hear the bells ring, then giggled and covered her face.
Paro laughed lightly, then stood on the toes of one foot with her arms raised elegantly, swinging her hips back and forth. She smiled and pointed to India indicating that she should do the same. India shook her head, but Paro would not be put off.
India attempted to mimic Paro's movements, spinning this way and that, stumbling over her awkward feet, certain that she looked a great fool but not caring a whit.
When she saw a blue and white blur in the doorway, she stopped abruptly, almost pitching herself on the floor. "Barrett!" Tears welled in her eyes; he had never looked so handsome. His uniform was cleaned and pressed and his face was clean shaven. His wavy flaxen hair was combed back into a neat pigtail, though a few stray locks framed his face and forehead. "My, but you clean up nicely!" He opened his mouth to reply, but no sound came out. Something about his expression made India want to cry. "You'd best speak up or I'll put my trousers back on."
Barrett shook his head slowly. "No you won't. Not ever."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means, we're going to tell the captain the truth. Today…now! I'll not let you put yourself in harm's way again."
Paro and Chandra excused themselves, but not before Chandra whispered in Barrett's ear. "Your time is short. Do not waste it."
"It's not up to you, Barrett, "India reminded him. "You're not my husband!"
"I want to be!" He took a few steps forward, but hesitated. "I love you."
"I love you, too," India replied. "That's why I'm begging you to reconsider. If you tell the captain, he may allow us to marry before he ships me back to England. Then I'll sit and wait for you, praying I'll see you again someday. The three hours I waited for you today were torture. Don't make me wait for years... or forever."
"We'll go back to England together," said Barrett. "I'll probably be mustered out of the service for this."
"If you're lucky. And what will either of us do on land? This isn't me! It just fancy dress. I'm a sailor, like you. It's all I know." India reached her hand up to the veil on top of her head to rip it off, but the tinkling of the bangles on her wrist stayed her hand. With a sigh she dropped her arm to her side.
It was not lost on Barrett. "You like yourself like this, don't you?"
"I look a great fool," she said, twisting the veil fretfully in her hands.
Barrett closed the distance between them and put his hands on her shoulders. "You look beautiful and you know it."
India slipped her arms around him and rested her against his shoulder, gazing up at him with her bright hazel eyes. "Please don't send me away."
Barrett held her close and kissed the top of her head. He couldn't promise her he would never tell the captainfor her own safety, but he didn't want to spend what little time they had left arguing about it. "I don't want to send you away. I want you here with me."
He ran his hands over the veil that cascaded down her back, then he held her at arm's length so he could get a good look at her. The alluring red choli she wore showed off her bosom to great advantage and bared her midriff. He put his hand on her flat belly and fell to his knees onto a soft cushion before him. He placed tender kisses on her flesh, enjoying the contraction of her taught muscles at his touch. He reached around and undid the ties of her choli. India stood still, but held his gaze as he removed it,
To think such beautiful, perfect breasts had to be hidden under a strip of worn muslin! He cupped them in his hands and squeezed them gently as India began to squirm in obvious pleasure. He teased each nipple in turn with his lips and tongue causing her to gasp and squeal.
"Is this what Chandra taught you?" she breathed.
"This is only the beginning." Barrett pulled her down to him so she straddled his lap. She put her arms around his neck and rubbed her sex against his growing cock, arching her back to increase the contact. His eyes fluttered closed as he gave into it, but he brought himself back reminding himself that her pleasure came first tonight. He met her eyes and smiled. She certainly looked pleased so far.
Barrett put his hand on her buttocks to stop the glorious movement of her pelvis, then claimed her mouth in a fierce kiss, placing his other hand on the back of her head. He thrust his tongue deeply inside her mouth; she tickled and entwined his tongue with her own. He caressed her bare back and breasts, and ran his hands through her short hair. He felt her untie his kerchief and unbutton his shirt. Her lips left his as she trailed sweet kisses along his jaw line and neck; her hands were all over his chest, then frantically pulling his shirt out of his trousers. She was doing it again, letting his pleasure take precedence over her own. Well, he couldn't let her get away with that!
He picked her up, her legs still wrapped around his waist, and flipped her onto the low bed on her back, eliciting a small scream of surprise, followed by laughter. He hovered above her, appraising her body once more. Her exquisite breasts, delectable belly, well-defined arms from years of hard work, a tattoo of a fish on her left bicep
Barrett's brow furrowed in consternation. "You have a tattoo!"
"So do you!" India took the opportunity to pull off his shirt and pointed to his right bicep. It was of a mermaid at the ship's wheel.
"I was drunk," he protested.
"Well, I was sober," she replied. "It's a dolphin, for good luck."
He smiled as he traced the design with his finger, then kissed it. "You are a sailor."
"Till the day I die."
His smile faded. Barrett kissed her again, harder and more urgently this time. He fumbled with her skirt ties for a moment before she pulled them off herself. He gazed at her again, naked except for the thin silk veil that framed her face and shoulders. His cock was straining against the confines of his trousers almost painfully, which was made even worse when India brushed her hand against him.
"There's plenty of time for that, my love." He took her hand and gently placed it on her sex, guiding it in circular motion against herwhat did Chandra call it? Pearl
The very first thing Chandra taught him was about self-love. Any lad knew how to bring himself to release, but women often didn't know how to please themselves. Truth be told, it had never occurred to Barrett that women could feel pleasure like a man until Chandra had showed him how mistaken he was. They took longer to stir, but once roused they could enjoy several releases to a man's one.
India started to moan and squirm. With a mischievous grin, he briefly lay on top of her and kissed her softly on the lips, then on her neck and between her breasts. He ran his tongue down her belly, then sat back and lifted her legs to rest on his shoulders. He caressed each in turn, kissing her inner thighs. India laid back with her eyes closed and a contented smile on her face. When Barrett finally placed the flat of his tongue against her pearl, her eyes snapped open as she let out a strangled cry.
Barrett gazed up at her. "Do you want me to stop?"
"Not if you know what's good for you!" India replied.
He dived between her legs again, alternately sucking and licking her. She pulled up her knees and spread her legs to give him better access. She pulled at his hair and called out his name in between her moans. Barrett gently inserted a finger inside her. Her muscles were so tight and gripped his finger as he brought her nearer to the edge. She started to move her pelvis up and down thrusting his finger in and out of her. Barrett placed his hand on her stomach and pulled her skin taught as redoubled his efforts. Soon, India was arching her back and screaming out his name.
As soon as India recovered from her orgasm, she thanked Barrett enthusiastically. She tackled him and placed dozens of sweet kisses on his lips, face and chest. Then it was India's turn to enjoy the feel of his body. She ran her hands through the light dusting of hair on his chest, grinding her sex into his hardness. Barrett gripped her buttocks again to stop her delicious movements.
"Don't you like that?" she asked.
"Of course I do!" he laughed. "I just don't want to come yet."
India looked up at the pictures on the wall, then at Barrett. "Do you want to be inside me?" she asked in a timid whisper.
"More than anything," he breathed.
Copying the posture of the woman in the little painting above their bed, India tucked her legs underneath her and leaned backward in an arch. Barrett took her hands and stretched her arms over her head. Even though she was opened to him, he used one hand to guide himself inside her. India winced in pain, but smiled up at him encouragingly. Barrett remained still for a few moments to let her get used to the feel of him inside her, then he rocked them both gently.
Their eyes locked as he started to thrust himself inside her. Her eyes fluttered closed, and her breath became ragged. He had waited so long for this. She felt more wonderful than he could have imagined. He stopped abruptly when he noticed tears leaking from the corners of her eyes.
"Am I hurting you?"
"On, no," she whispered. "It's just…I never imagined I would ever have someone like you to love me."
Barrett covered her mouth in a deep kiss, trying to convey the depths of his love with his body. He began moving inside her again. India pulled one of her hands away from his and started rubbing herself between her legs. His thrusts became quicker and harder; she moved with him, crying out as she approached another peak.
"Wait for me," he begged. Suddenly, Barrett felt his whole body explode as he came inside her. The muscles of her cunt contracted as India climaxed with him.
"Damn!" he said against her shoulder.
India stretched out her legs and put her arms around him. "What's the matter?"
He gazed at her apologetically. "I should have pulled out before I"
"It's all right," she told him. "You can't get a girl pregnant her first time."
"Who told you that?"
India regarded him sheepishly. "Doudle."
"Oh, well, it must be true," Barrett replied, rolling his eyes. "Don't worry, if you doif you are…we'll manage."
India was silent for several moments. "Barrett, if I do get caught, I'll not breathe your name. Promise me you'll not volunteer it."
"Promise that I'll abandon you?" He shook his head resolutely. "No, if you get caught, we'll go down together."
India smiled uneasily and kissed him. "Then I best not get caught."
To be continued…
