Page 88 of A Modest Independence

Jenny’s hand settled firmly on Tom’s arm as they strolled among the fray. “Could you ever have imagined, when you were a little boy, that one day you’d be strolling down a gaslit road in Calcutta of all places?”

“With an auburn-haired beauty on my arm?”

Jenny burst into laughter. An unladylike reaction that was, fortunately, muted in comparison to the general noise of the street. “Rubbish. No one else would describe me thus.”

“No one else knows you as I do.” Tom looked down at her, his eyes smiling. “Could you have imagined it? Being here like this?”

“In Calcutta? No. When I was a little girl, I never dreamed of a specific city. All I knew was that I wanted adventure. Somewhere far away from home. I’d have taken any chance to get it.”

“I felt the same way about stability. The boring day-to-day toil of a clerk’s life in London. That was my dream.”

“You can’t be serious.”

He shrugged a shoulder. “When a boy spends his childhood never knowing from one day to the next whether he’ll have food to eat or a roof over his head, the prospect of steady work and dependable wages is something to dream about. Even if taking that work means your life is less adventurous than it otherwise might have been.”

“I’ve never had the impression that your life was lacking excitement. Not with all of your mysterious secrets and dark dealings.”

“You make me sound far more interesting than I am.”

“You are interesting. I could talk with you all day and never get bored.”

His mouth quirked up at the corner. “A rare compliment.”

“I mean it. I wish…”

“What?”

“That we had more time together.”

His smile faded. “We have to be careful. For your sake, Jenny.”

“Yes, I realize, but…” She gave him a speaking glance. “Had I known that evening in my cabin would be our last moment alone, I wouldn’t have been so preoccupied with arranging my hair for dinner.”

Tom regarded her with a solemn frown, his blue eyes lit with a peculiar intensity. “What would you have done instead?”

The street was noisy—everyone too consumed with their own business to trouble with eavesdropping. Jenny nevertheless sunk her voice. “Kissed you, probably.”

“As you did on the train to Suez?” He covered her gloved hand with his. “If you had, we’d never have made it to the saloon for dinner.”

A shivery thrill ran through Jenny’s midsection. “What a scandal that would have caused.”

“The worst kind of scandal.” His words took on a husky edge. “You’d have had no choice but to marry me.”

“Because I’d be ruined? I daresay that’s one way to trap a husband.”

“Or a wife.”

Jenny wished the thought of it didn’t stir so many emotions within her. “But we’d never do that to each other, would we? No matter what anyone said.”

“You may feel differently if the gossip about us worsens.”

“If it does, I shall simply keep traveling until I reach the farthest edge of the world.”

Tom guided Jenny around a pair of bickering Indian shopkeepers. They were shouting at each other, gesticulating wildly. “A place where gossip doesn’t exist? Best of luck with that plan.”

“Must you be so grim?” She tugged at his arm. Ahead of them was what had to be the most dazzling storefront on the entire road. It was all twinkling glass and sparkling wares of gold and silver. A jewelers’ shop with a distinguished Bengali gentleman waiting at its door to receive them. He caught Jenny’s eye and made her an elaborate bow. “Oh, do let’s go in, Tom,” she said. “Please.”

“If you like.”