“So, you think you can become a lady, a social novelty because a rich, old man puts you in his will? Well, you’ll soon see what heights the illegitimate daughter of a high-class harlot can reach in Scottish society!”
His cruel words cut her as if his teeth had met her vulnerable flesh.
Jeremy seized her hand before it could reach his face. “You’ll come back all right, Madam,” he continued with a curled lip, “but not to my care nor to my protection!” He released her hand and stormed across the room.
“If you were any kind of guardian, you would escort me over there… now,” she cried, hoping to change his mind.
Not turning to face her, Jeremy clenched his fists and walked out of the room.
“I’ll never come back!” she screamed as the door slammed behind him. That was her vow, a vow she whispered again and again on board ship and in that present moment, in the carriage’s dimness.
The coach came to a halt at 12 Leith Way. The horses, eager for rest, jerked and shuddered as their passenger disembarked. Standing on the narrow sidewalk engulfed in the gloomy city mist, May-Jewel looked at the grayness of the brick building before her. It mimicked her mood. She read the names edged in the bronze tablet in the center of the door: Jameson, Northrup and Abbott. Gathering her dress to clear the mud splattered steps, May-Jewel entered the solicitor’s office.
* * *
The North Atlantic
The creaking of the Billy Khay, as the wind pushed it through the rough ocean, awakened Selina. She stretched her dark hand up to the side beam of the ship’s skeleton, reassured that she was on her way. Nothing would stop her ambitions of claiming the estate that rightfully belonged to her; if not her, definitely her baby. Black eyes scanned the dim interior of the cabin as she searched for her young servant. Not seeing Mayeya, Selina twisted her own long hair into a bun and pinned it in position. Pouring the last of the fresh water into her hand, she washed her face and dried it with her sari. The patter of approaching feet made her frown.
Selina’s constant aggravation was evident by the marks she left on the young servant girl. As a wife of the wealthy owner of the Craig Shipping Lines, Selina flaunted her right to treat others as she pleased. Mayeya had been given to work at the Craig household in exchange for a monthly supply of food for her family. It was a cheap enough bargain for the rich man and his new Indian wife. As a personal maid, Mayeya’s duties were only to attend to her mistress’ demands. But those demands were so stringent as to affect the twelve-year-old. Her frame was stooped and her limbs so frail that anyone who watched her wondered how she remained upright. During the day Mayeya sometimes made her way into the kitchens where she was given added morsels from the cook to try to keep up her strength. If she didn’t have nine siblings at home, Mayeya would have run back to the poverty of her parents. But living at home was precarious at best, so she stayed with the Craig’s, even though she was hit if she didn’t move fast enough or think ahead in order to please her mistress. But hope dawned one day when she was told to pack the mistress’ trunk and gather her own “miserable belongings” because they were to embark on a trip, a trip that Mayeya saw as a means out of her miserable life in India. Once she was in Scotland, she planned to run away. Life there couldn’t be as bad as living under the hand of Mistress Selina.
As her mistress’ hair was already up, Mayeya realized that she misjudged how long she had been up on deck to retrieve the water. She thought her mistress would sleep longer but was woefully wrong.
“Lazy mule!” Selina cursed, her hand striking the child’s cheek. “If I did not need you now more than ever, I would push you into the sea! Do not anger me again!”
“Yes, Mistress!” Ignoring the stinging of her face, Mayeya tentatively took hold of Selina Craig’s sari. She then wrapped it about her mistress’ shoulders and her bulging belly. Once that was complete, Mayeya poured some water into a cup and handed it to Selina.
Not expecting it, the slap that came caused Mayeya to fall to the floor.
“You stupid wench! Why did I bring you? Can you not tell salt water from fresh?” Selina raged. “Leave me!”
This time Mayeya avoided her mistress’ quick hand as she dashed from the cabin.
Selina allowed herself a groan, something she’d never do in front of her servant. But as of late, groaning was the only release for the anger and frustration she was feeling. She worried that she might have waited too long to venture across the ocean. But she hadn’t wanted to put any more time between the death of Robert and the claiming of his estate, even to wait until the birth of their child. There wasn’t any doubt that she had done the right thing in staking her claim to the home of her husband. She had always done the right thing, the smart thing. She had been smart enough to use her mother’s wisdom to bewitch Sir Robert into marriage, even though she found him repulsive. His womanizing and drinking disgusted her. Now, how convenient of him to have died! She recalled his last words to her, “I’ll send for you when I get back to Scotland and the time is right. I can’t take you with me
