Chapter 12

A week passed with no attempts made at mending Nathan and Eleanor's relationship - or lack thereof. The day of their fight, Eleanor had holed herself up in her room writing to Gabrielle, pausing only when Mr. Potts had knocked on the door to bring in her trunks. She had not gone down for lunch or supper for fear of running into Nathan and had gone to bed with an empty - and growling - stomach.

The next day, she had finally gathered her courage to face him, having had spent the night before tossing and turning before coming to the decision that she was going to apologise for her scathing words. However, woe betided her for she ran into the housekeeper - Miss Lucy Abbott, if she remembered correctly.

The woman had regarded her coolly, the guilt and embarrassment on her face from the day before replaced with haughtiness and contempt as if she were indeed the Duchess of Wolverhampton.

Eleanor, irritation sparking her nerves, had proceeded to snap at her. 'Where is His Grace?' she had asked plainly with an authoritative note in her words.

The atrocious woman had merely replied, 'Gone out!' before flouncing off, her brown maid's dress flying behind her.

And the cycle had continued for a week.

Every morning, she would enquire as to his whereabouts and every morning Miss Abbott would reply the same. At night, she would stay awake all night waiting for him, to hear his footsteps outside her room, waiting for him to come and make amends.

But he never came.

Until a drab dark morning, a week past the fight, when he did, sans announcement, a grim look on his pale face.

Eleanor jumped up from her seat on the vanity and tightened her robe around her. She had only on a nightgown underneath it and her cheeks burned of her own volition of what was to ensue should he have caught her in it. Her raven hair was loose from the restricting pins and it tumbled down her back, ending right above her waist.

Nathan, who seemed to note her state of undress, averted his eyes. 'Get dressed. We leave in a few,' he stated blankly.

'Where to, may I ask?'

His eyes raised to hers. 'You will know when we reach.' He whirled out of the room, leaving Eleanor to ready herself.

A half hour later, she sat across Nathan in the carriage as it tumbled down the dusty streets of Bombay. Dark clouds loomed above them in the sky and the wet promise of a storm hung in the air. Few people were out and about on the roads - most were closing up shop and taking shelter from the rain.

Eleanor looked at Nathan under her lashes. His eyes were fixed on the floor but that did not conceal his agitation, and irritation was a trait unconcealed on his face.

His attention suddenly snapped and he tapped the roof of the carriage with his cane.

'Driver! Stop the carriage!' he hollered.

In response, the carriage halted and Nathan hurriedly got out before helping out Eleanor.

Eleanor looked up at the old, derelict building which they stood in front of. It had peeling paint and the wooden windows hung loosely at the hinges. The clouds were churning above them like dark ghouls and she shivered at the cold breeze nipping her.

'Where are we?' she asked, looking up at Nathan. His face was undecipherable which sent a bunch of nervous butterflies fluttering deep in her stomach.

'You will see,' was his sole reply before marching through the front door, Eleanor following reluctantly.

The door shut behind her the moment she passed the threshold and she found herself in pitch black darkness. Not a thing could she see, not a sound was to be heard. She held her breath in fear of breaking the resounding silence; even Nathan's breathing had stilled, she realised, for she could not hear his shallow short breaths anymore. A moment later, she realised the reason for this. Nathan's presence which had previously brought warmth to the otherwise cold room had dissipated until all she could feel was the stark coldness of the darkness surrounding her.

'Nathan?' she whispered into the darkness. No reply. Slightly unnerved but yet to be frightened, she started to walk forward in hopes of bumping into him.

Suddenly, a bright light filled the room, bathing it in its soft and subtle glow.

Eleanor squinted in the light, her eyes not yet accustomed to the invading brightness. They wandered around the room, inspecting it. She was a little surprised to find that the small room was devoid of furniture and anything at all. All that she could see was a solitary wooden staircase leading to the floor above.

Sudden footsteps echoed above her and she looked up to find Nathan standing on the top stair of the staircase, his hair a dishevelled mess, sparking anger in her.

Honestly, Eleanor thought, seething, if I find him with another woman, I will personally lead him to the gates of hell!

Forcing herself to remain composed, she forced a smile onto her face and regarded him coolly. 'Where were you? It was like you vanished into thin air.'

He stretched an arm out to her and waved her over, hastily. 'Make haste!'

Frowning, she hurried over to where he was. Before she could say anything, he grabbed her by the wrist and led her down the hallway they had emerged on. The wooden boards creaked under their combined weight as Nathan ran, dragging Eleanor behind him.

He pushed open a door and led her inside, his hand leaving hers as soon as they did. They were in a small, dimly lit room and in the centre of it, stood around a dozen men, shouting and talking. Indian men.

Nathan began to converse with them, speaking in a language she did not know and barrelled his way through the tight ring they stood in. It was then that she realised that the men were huddled around something - or rather someone.

'Yeh kaise hua?' Nathan asked, frustrated, in that strange foreign language Eleanor could not understand. It sounded nice in her ears though, the words musical but rough at the same time as it rolled off his tongue.

One of the men in a turban answered. None of the men had seemed to notice her. 'Ham lagbagh yeh bahar kar diya. Lekhin, aakhir mein, adhikariyom mein se ekh aur use goli mar karne mein kamyab rahe.'

Nathan nodded gravely. The men standing around the person had parted and she could see the man who lay on the ground, his white shirt soaked with his crimson blood.

'What happened to him?' Eleanor asked, covering her mouth. The murmurs and screams which had previously filled the room died as all pairs of eyes in the room turned to the only woman - a lady at that - present in the room. The poor man had a bloody gash on his side from where blood continued to seep through in rivulets.

Nathan looked on at the man with a pained expression, not diverting his attention from him to her. 'He was shot by a British officer during an attack.'

'An attack?' she asked incredulously. 'What attack?'

Nathan finally turned his gaze to her. 'The Deccan Riots. The peasants in the countryside have been revolting against the cultivation crisis. Here, in Bombay, these people have tried to help them out by staging attacks on British Headquarters. The riots here had been going on with tremendous success - although the riots are not of common knowledge to the public - until today when...this happened. One of the officers shot him just as he escaped.'

Eleanor moved forward towards the man, the crowd of people parting before her like the Red Sea before Moses. She crouched by the injured man's side. His eyes were shut tight and his whole body shook slightly with short tremors. Slight whimpers escaped his mouth and sweat glistened on his dark skin. She parted his shirt to look at the wound - it was ghastly! The skin around it had begun to swell and change colours - the indications of an infection

'The wound...' Eleanor started. 'It has to be bathed. An infection has commenced setting in.' Her hands shook and her mind whirled with incoherent thoughts as she tore off her gown's sleeve, baring her naked arm to the crowd of men who all stood silent and still around her. Shaking, she hastily pressed the fabric to the wound.

A hand came down on her shoulders and Eleanor turned to find Nathan staring down at her, aghast. 'Eleanor...he is to depart soon. There is no hope for him, darling.'

Eleanor shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks, daring not to believe that the stranger lying before her was dying. Why was she distraught? Why was she crying? She did not know the man. But then, why did she feel oh so very...angry?

'There has to be a way!' Her voice rang out in the silent room. 'He could still live! The wound is not so deep!'

Nathan sighed and grabbed her arms firmly before forcefully pulling her up. She did not fight him as he dragged her out of the room filled with conflicting stares and shut the door behind them.

As soon as the door closed, he pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her. Eleanor hid her face in her husband's chest as it muffled the sobs which came out of her and wracked her body.

'It's alright, darling,' Nathan comforted her although his voice held misery of its own. 'He's going to a better place now. Don't cry, my love.'

Eleanor's sobs intensified and Nathan clutched her tighter against him. 'Why did they do this?' she asked in-between sobs. 'Why was he shot?'

Eleanor felt Nathan rest his chin on top of her head. 'Because they want to control. India is one of England's greatest conquests. The wealth that the East India Company has stripped this country of is insurmountable, did you know? And now, the Crown of England rules over this nation - a nation of brilliant, smart people who do not know in the slightest what power they possess - enslaving them all under a tyranny. You too are a part of this.'

Eleanor had stopped crying, only sniffles breaking the silence. 'Is this the work that concerns me?' Eleanor asked, looking up at him. Nathan looked guarded yet vulnerable as he tucked behind her ear that offending lock of hair which kept falling in her face when he was around.

'Yes,' he said. 'I am one of the leaders of the rebellion against the British.'

Eleanor gasped and inched backward. She had thought he would say that he assisted those Indians who struggled but that he himself was the leader was a thought which had not crossed her mind once. 'Treachery?' she whispered instead.

Nathan nodded. 'To the highest extent of the law and Crown.'

'But...why? Why would you risk the wrath of your country for the glory and freedom of India?'

Nathan leaned against the wall and raised his head. 'A couple of years ago, before my parents' death, my parents and I came here, to India.'

Eleanor felt her eyes widen. He was talking about his parents now after he had ceased talking when she had brought it up a week ago.

'My father had dealings here with the East India Company and used to come often. However, one fateful summer, three years ago, he decided to bring my mother and me on his journey. My sister had just wed and was at her husband's. We were at Company Headquarters when a barrage of people stormed in, stating their grievances; high taxes, no food and so on.' He sighed and slid down to sit on the floor and Eleanor sat next to him, her bare arm brushing his fine coat. 'When time progressed and no consensus was reached at, they resorted to violence. They did not have weapons; they used their fists. But they were greatly outnumbered and had no chance of winning. Despite that, the British officers started firing into the crowd. There was no need and yet, they did. During the firing - they were firing aimlessly - my parents and I, along with many others - even children! - got shot. And do you know what they did? My brothers, my countrymen?' Nathan turned to look at her. 'They left us. They left us lying on the cold floor dying,' he finished bitterly.

'But, it was said that,' Eleanor gulped. 'It was said that they died in a carriage accident.'

Nathan chuckled lowly, without any humour. 'That was the concocted story. Who was to say what would happen if word got out in England that a multitude of their own was caught in a firing with 'lowly Indians'?'

Eleanor touched Nathan's arm, trying to offer comfort. But how was she to do that? He was a broken man, she could now see. He hid behind a cheery facade which was far from what he really was. She felt Nathan lean into her touch and watched as a portion of the bitterness on his face melted away.

'How did you survive?' she asked instead.

'Indians. They helped me. Not long after the firing and everyone had evacuated, leaving us to rot under the ruins, a few Indians came in. When they saw the damage, they went about searching for survivors. I was one of the very few. My parents had passed along with one of my father's associates. These Indians, they took me, an Englishman, and nursed me to health whereas my brethren abandoned me. It was then that I realised the extent of England's oppressive and tyrannical rule on India. We call Indians barbarians and savages when in fact, we are the true barbarians. So, I made a decision. I was going to aid these so-called 'savages' in any way I could. The revolution had already been underway and soon, I had become one of the leaders. I keep my identity hidden but it is well-known that an Englishman is helping the Indians. They merely do not know it is I.'

Eleanor went through all that he had said. He was well and truly committing treason against the Crown. She could not even imagine what was to happen if word got around that the Duke of Wolverhampton was aiding the Indian Revolution.

'Where do I come in all of this?' Eleanor asked.

'Many people are still hesitant to side with me. It is understandable, though, that they would find it hard to believe that an Englishman suddenly sided with them. I married you to gain their support. To make them believe that I truly side with them.'

Eleanor put two and two together in her head and she finally understood what he meant. 'You married me, someone who is an Indian but British too, someone who can persuade them, someone who knows you well enough, so that my presence - the fact that you married someone like me - would ease their worries.'

Nathan nodded. 'If they could see that I'm well and truly dedicated to their cause, so much so that I marry an Indian, then the revolution would prove fruitful.'

'But why could you not marry an actual Indian? Why me?'

Nathan scowled. 'Eleanor, you forget this is India. People are not going to marry their daughters to an Englishman.'

Eleanor shrugged. The tension in the room had dropped and she thought it would be good to jest to further ease the palpable tension. 'Well, I am sure you could have persuaded a girl to elope.'

Nathan laughed musically, his eyes crinkling with amusement. 'I am sure I could make a woman fall for me if I so wish. But the only women who would let me go near them are harlots and you would find I do not care much for them.'

Eleanor smiled at him. She admired that Nathan had been upfront about his intentions and had not fooled her. It made the situation far easier to comprehend.

'I am glad you married me, Nathan,' Eleanor said. 'This way, I too can contribute to lifting my brethren out of tyranny and servitude and for that, I am grateful. Thank you for showing me my people.'

Nathan squeezed her hand and flashed her a sorry smile. 'I am sorry you had to see that man like that. But I do not regret it. You had to see for yourself what the British were doing.'

Eleanor's smile dropped and she averted her gaze to the door behind which a man lay dying. 'You need not be sorry. That sight has simply fueled my need to help. I am glad I saw him.' She turned to Nathan. 'But is there truly no hope for him?'

Nathan shook his head. 'I wish there was. But I examined the injury. It is fatal.'

Eleanor nodded with understanding and her heart went out to that man's family. He looked to be middle-aged and she could not imagine what his family must go through when they know.

She was glad she had Nathan by her side. Nathan, her father, and Gabrielle were the only ones in her life who meant anything to her and her heart clenched at the thought of losing any one of them. She was already away from her father and Gabrielle, she did not want Nathan to go away from her too. She would not be able to bear it.

But, for now, he had him and that was enough. The both of them were going to bring about a change, she was sure of them. Nathan was truly a man worth everything in the world. He was the finest gem amongst gems as well as a force to be reckoned with.

And, if she was going to defy, she was glad that it was Nathan by her side than anyone else.