Chapter Fourteen, Saving Tenderness
Posted by DiF on Monday, February 20, 2012
Title: Dark Horse: Chapter Fourteen, Saving Tenderness
Rating: PG-13 [language, drugs]
Summary: Kanti's mother makes connections to protect Sitara and her daughter. Both Donovan and George get a step closer to saving...
Entering her daughter’s room after the midday meal, Neela frowned. She approached the young woman’s bed, sitting down on the very edge. Her fingers reached up and brushed Kanti’s hair from her face, revealing the girl’s bruises and swollen lip. Her dark eyes met her mother’s and she attempted to force a smile.
“Child, I know you… feel poorly, but you need to rouse yourself,” she stated calmly.
“Why? Does he wish to beat me again?”
“No, no,” Neela quickly responded. “But rather… we are going to find a way to get you out of here.”
“What?”
She stood and retrieved the girl’s brush from her dresser, “Sit up, my daughter.”
Kanti slowly sat up. Sitting behind her daughter, Neela began to slowly brush her hair. Careful to not pull the brush too far down the girl’s back, knowing it had to still been tender from her previous punishment.
“When I was out shopping for the evening meal… I was approached by a young foreigner,” Neela stated softly.
“Okay…”
“He asked about your and Sita’s well being.”
Kanti pivoted quickly, ignoring the shot of pain in her back, “Who was it, Mother?”
“A Mr. Donovan.”
Her eyes brightened, “Really? Donovan is here?”
Neela nodded, “He is in Jaipur, yes.”
“Oh Mother… wait, what does he want?”
She tucked the girl’s hair behind her ears, “To see that you are alright. This evening, you will accompany me to the market.”
“I cannot go. The master—”
“Will allow you to come with me,” Neela interrupted. “He will not object.”
Kanti looked away, “Donovan cannot see me like this.”
She gently touched her daughter’s facial bruises, “Makeup will cover much of it and we will shroud you in veils.”
“But…”
“Kanti, my child, this is needed.”
“Why?”
Neela sighed, “We are going to need his help.”
“For?”
“To get you and Sita out of here.”
Kanti blinked, saying nothing.
“I will not allow either of you to be beaten or touched again. Someone on the outside will need to help us. Your Mr. Donovan is not from here and therefore more likely to help than if I were to somehow convince another,” she explained. “So we shall meet your Mr. Donovan and between the three of us, we will devise a plan to free you and Sita from Mr. Barlow’s control.”
“Mother… what has he done to Sita?”
Neela sighed and stood up, pacing over to closet, “The doctor was here yesterday.”
Kanti’s eyes darkened, “No…”
“He claims she is no longer a virgin,” she opened the door, drawing her fingers over her daughter’s garments. “Master Barlow met with her mother’s brother last night for dinner.”
“Oh no…”
“It has not been announced yet,” Neela stated, pulling out a sheer, black sari. “But I cannot help but think Master Barlow will give Sita to him…”
“He can’t! It’s 1968, not 1768!” she protested.
“I most certainly agree with you,” she retrieved undergarments from Kanti’s dresser. “I do not understand why Master Barlow has become so… antiquated, but we do not have time to look into the reasons why. We need to get the two of you out of here as soon as possible.”
“What about you, Mother?”
“I am an old woman. There is not much for me to gain by running away,” she declared. “Master Barlow will not know of my involvement in any event. I will see to it.”
“But—”
“Let us get you ready to meet with your Mr. Donovan. We will need to leave on the errands soon,” Neela stated.
“Can I… can I see Sita before we leave?”
She frowned, “I wish you could. She could use your love and support now, daughter. But I am the only one allowed in her quarters currently. Mahinder is guarding her door now.”
Kanti frowned, “Mother, how can he—”
“I do not know. But that makes it even more important for us to get the two of you out of here. Let’s get you dressed.”
Leaving his wife napping in the cool hotel room, George strolled along the street. He had attempted meditation to clear his mind, but found the thoughts invading his conscious mind would not free their grasp on his subconscious mind either. He could not shake the fact he was in Sitara’s city. He had known she was from Jaipur but it was not really anything concrete until he saw her father the evening before. It made sense why he felt the need to be there. He just hoped to find some guidance into what he could possibly do.
Walking the street seemed to be the best way to distract himself. In the very least, it gave him more to look at, more to… who was he kidding? Everything represented Sitara in his mind, even more so with the thought of her being near. He did not think her father was one to go far out of his comfort zone, so she likely lived near the restaurant. This meant that there was a good chance she had walked those streets before, shopped those shops before. She could be out shopping right then, though he thought she was probably too smart to shop when it was hot outside.
Yet the very thought she could be out and about slowed George’s steps. His eyes looked at every face as he passed, hoping to find her green eyes meeting his. Stranger by stranger passed and did not morph into Sitara. He was beginning to lose hope and energy because of the heat. He needed to take a break, seeking aimlessly.
Glancing up at the shop signs above him, George froze. Destiny certainly had to be toying with him that day. A large Barlow Teas sign hung over his head. Apparently, without intending to at all, George happened upon the flagship tea shop. Tea had brought her to him. Tea would bring him to her.
A choir of bells rang as he pushed the door open. The comforting scent of tea instantly assaulted his nostrils. As his eyes adjusted to the dimmer light of the room, he was greeted by a young man and shown to a small table. Glancing at the simple menu, George was a bit surprised to find a teahouse in India, until it dawned on him that Britain had taken over decades before. In fact, he had a feeling that was why Sitara’s father was even in India, but maybe he was mistaken.
Enjoying a nice informal tea, though that had not been his intentions upon entering the shop, George relaxed and looked around. Though attention had been paid to make it as British as possible, he noticed it was certainly outdated, as if the designer had not been to London in a decade. Maybe that was the last time Sitara’s father ventured back to England. Maybe that was why he was so backwards in his ways.
Finishing his tea, George wandered over into the attached retail shop. He selected a few varieties, a small smile teasing his lips at memories of sipping them with Sitara. As the shopkeeper wrapped up his purchases, including a small teapot, George sized up the man. He seemed to be kind and honest, perhaps could be a source of information.
“Excuse me,” he spoke softly, drawing the man’s attention to him. “I have heard that the Barlows are local. Is that true?”
The man nodded, “The Barlow estate is up on the hill.”
“Is it easy to get to?”
He shrugged, “It can be.”
“I am merely interested in seeing how Mr. Barlow lives. Is he not from England?”
“He is.”
“Thank you,” George overpaid for his purchases and walked away.
Though he had not seen Sitara, he felt a tiny bit closer to her. He now had a general idea of where she was located and had the feeling he could likely pay someone off to take him up to the estate. In fact, that was a good idea. First, he would return to the hotel and drop off his purchases. Then, he would storm up to Barlow Estates and… and what? He was uncertain. He just needed to go there.
Slipping into the hotel, he called for his wife, “Pattie?”
“George?” she leaned out of the bathroom. “How was your walk?”
“I found a teahouse,” he declared, setting the paper bag on the sofa. “And…”
“Yes?” she returned to the bathroom, applying lipstick.
“I know where Sita lives.”
“Oh?” her eyes met his in the reflection of the mirror.
George nodded, leaning on the doorframe, “I’m going to go and see her.”
“Do you think that’s a good idea? Do you think he will even allow it?”
“I have to try,” he stated.
She set her lipstick down, “I’ll go with you.”
“You don’t have to,” George replied.
“I know. But you might have a better chance of seeing her if I go along,” Pattie stated.
Seeing the logic in her suggestion, he nodded, “Let me know when you’re ready.”
Noodling around with his sitar while she continued getting ready, George tried to chase away his thoughts for a moment. Music usually could do just that, but seemingly not that day. His thoughts kept swirling back to the green-eyed girl. Without even realizing it, he found himself playing one of the songs she danced on his birthday weeks before. He could not escape the dancing beauty.
Waiting until he ceased playing, Pattie stated, “That was familiar.”
He smirked, “Yeah, I think so too.”
George set the sitar aside and got to his feet. With a quick kiss shared with Pattie, he headed towards the door. She grabbed her purse and followed him from the room. Once outside the luxury hotel, George led her down the street. He made a few quick turns, taking them to a far less reputable street. Pattie’s hand tightened on his in anxiety, but she trusted her husband. Minutes later they were seated in a dirty, little car, apparently headed to the Barlow Estate.
“Are we just going to walk up there and ring the bell?” Pattie whispered.
He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it gently, “That’s a start.”
The car halted and George paid their driver before glancing out the dirty window. Seeing imposing stone walls, he suddenly questioned what they were doing. But as the driver honked his horn, they had to follow through. Pushing aside his brief fear, George climbed out of the small car and offered his hand to help his wife.
Slowly the couple approached the large iron gate. Grateful the gate was open, George took a deep breath and headed directly to the front door. His dark eyes glanced at Pattie before he reached up and knocked on the large wooden door.
It seemed like days before the door slowly swung open. A short, older woman stood before him, her dark eyes quickly assessing his and Pattie’s appearance. She shifted her weight slightly, turning to face him fully.
“Master Barlow did not tell me he was expecting guests,” she stated.
“He isn’t expecting us,” George replied, squeezing Pattie’s hand a bit. “He does not really know…”
She eyed them suspiciously, “Master Barlow is currently not accepting visitors.”
“We aren’t really here to see him.”
“Then who?”
“Sitara,” Pattie spoke up. “Is she in?”
The woman’s eyes snapped to her, “Sitara?”
“Sitara Barlow, the pretty dancing girl,” she stated, “we were hoping to talk to her about—”
“I did not see you at Sitara’s last performance,” the woman interrupted.
George quickly stated, “We saw her dance in Rishikesh.”
The older woman looked to him, staring into his eyes for a long moment, “You are Sita’s friends?”
They both nodded.
She stepped out of the house, closing the door behind her, “Master Barlow is home currently. He will not allow Sitara visitors now. He will not even allow the household to see her, save for me. I do not know how long she will be kept in seclusion, but I am guessing he will never allow the two of you to see her.”
“Why not?” George asked.
She shook her head, “Not here, not now.”
“What? Why not?”
Her eyes darted around, “I cannot speak freely here. I will be at the market at sundown, shopping for the evening’s meal. Look for me there.”
“But—”
“Good day, sir, ma’am.”
Before they could stop her and ask anything more, the older woman re-entered the house and closed the door. George was tempted to knock again, but Pattie tugged on his hand as she turned back towards the gate. Sighing he followed her back to the street, hoping they could find a car to give them a ride back to the hotel. At least they were one step closer to finding and hopefully saving Sitara.
Leaning against a brick wall, Donovan sucked on cigarette flavored with some exotic spice. With a smirk, he looked at the cigarette before sticking it back in his mouth. He really liked the flavor. He would have to make certain he purchased a bunch more to take with him when he went home.
With the cigarette perched between his lips once more, his eyes danced over the crowd. A pretty girl with light-colored eyes swished her hips, drawing his attention. For a brief moment he was caught up in her seduction. Remembering why he was there, Donovan shook his head and forced his attention away from her. He returned to smoking and looking for Kanti and her mother.
His breath suddenly caught, the cigarette tumbling from his lips. Swearing, Donovan retrieved the cigarette quickly before stepping away from the wall and heading towards the two women. Kanti wore a black sari, a good portion of it covering her face. Even just seeing her eyes, he knew it was her.
“Hi,” he muttered softly, stopping in front of her.
She looked to her mother briefly, saying nothing.
“I shall return here once I have completed the shopping,” Neela stated, turning away.
Kanti motioned for Donovan to follow her. Without pause the folksinger followed her out of the view of the general public. He did not care if it could be construed as tantamount to scandal; he just needed to see and be with Kanti. The young woman slowly sat on a stone step in the alleyway, her eyes glancing at Donovan. He quickly sat beside her, reaching to embrace her.
“No,” she stated softly, holding her hand up.
Nodding, Donovan relaxed and focused on his cigarette briefly, “I am glad to see you again.”
Her fingers reached for his, intertwining with his hand, “How did you find us?”
He shrugged, “I wasn’t really looking for you. I just ended up here and… then yesterday I found Sita’s dad’s office and ran into your mum. Are you okay?”
She turned her face away from his and said nothing.
Donovan reached up and snagged the sari, trying to pull it away from her face. Kanti’s fingers instantly pulled his away, keeping him from revealing her face. Sighing, he dropped his hand.
“Kanti, what happened?”
Her sad eyes returned to his, “He beat me.”
His mouth fell open, the cigarette tumbling out again. This time he did not pick it back up, letting it burn out on the cobblestone street. His eyes wavered on hers, letting his anger show through.
“Why the fuck would he do that?”
“It was my punishment for helping Sita escape,” she declared softly. “I have not been allowed to see Sita, but I presume she too has been at the receiving end of the cane.”
His eyes widened, “He used a cane!?”
“Donovan, it’s okay.”
“Like bloody hell it is!” he jumped up, his hand breaking from hers.
“Okay, it’s not,” she agreed. “Please sit back down.”
With a sigh, Donovan dug another cigarette out of his pocket before sitting back down, “Okay.”
“It’s worse than just the beatings,” she declared softly. “Don…”
His eyes went to hers, “Tell me Kanti.”
“You need to help get us out of there.”
“Well no shit.”
“No, you really need to help get us out of there.”
He paused, “Why?”
“They’re going to marry Sita off — to her uncle — if you don’t help us.”
Hearing the door to her room open, Sitara opened one eye, trying to discreetly see who visited her. She did not know how long she had been locked in her room, nor did she care. Ever since the doctor’s visit… whenever it was… she wanted nothing more than to die. She did not want to marry her uncle, nor did she think her father had any right to make her do so. But she saw no way out of it. She was not allowed visitors, save for Neela. There was no escape, only death.
The familiar weight of a body sank her bed. She closed her half-open eye, not needing to see who it was to know who her visitor was. Soft fingers touched her forehead, brushing long dark strands from her face. A moment later, lips touched her skin.
“Sita, my darling, you need to eat,” her soft voice declared.
“What’s the use, Kanti?” she responded. “Soon I will be moved from one cage to another. It would be better to just di—”
Her fingers touched Sitara’s mouth, “Nonsense. Now sit up and eat with me.”
She still did not move.
Kanti leaned down again, this time kissing Sitara’s lips, “Sit up and eat with me.”
Slowly complying, the younger woman sat up. Kanti embraced her carefully, not certain where her bruises could be. Brushing her lips across Sitara’s once more, she pulled away. She clicked on a single lamp and grabbed the untouched tray of food. Sitting back down on Sitara’s bed, she picked up a piece of fruit, offering it to her best friend. The girl sucked the fruit into her mouth.
“That’s my girl,” she smiled, brushing the girl’s unruly hair from her face.
Sitara slowly chewed on the fruit, “Did he… did he hurt you too?”
Kanti froze momentarily, “Do not worry about that, Sita.”
She sighed, “He did.”
She offered her a slice of warm cheese, “Do not worry about it, Sita. I am fine.”
Glancing over her best friend, she frowned, “Kanti…”
“Relax, dilruba,” she popped a piece of fruit into her mouth. “Two days ago, I met with Donovan.”
Her eyes brightened, “Donovan is here?”
Kanti nodded, “He is. We are trying to figure out how to get us out of here.”
“Really?” her voice lightened more.
“Yes,” she continued to feed Sitara and herself. “Mother met with George and Pattie as well.”
“George is here!?”
Kanti grinned, “He is. Between the five of us… we’re going to get you out.”
“You too, right? I can’t leave without you.”
She smiled, “Of course I’m going with you. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
The two finished off the plate before long, not really speaking much more. Sitara spied some of Kanti’s dark bruises, making her feel bad once more. Noticing her friend’s mood dropped again, Kanti returned the tray to a nearby table. She returned to the bed, but did not sit. Instead, her eyes locked with Sitara’s and she quickly removed her simple dress, letting it pool on the floor around her feet. Green eyes briefly flicked to Kanti’s bare breasts, taking note that her friend did not wear a bra and marks covered her arms and torso. Sitara swallowed as Kanti turned around, showing the fading bruises and welts across her back.
Her fingers lifted and gently touched the marks, “Kanti…”
She struggled to not flinch at Sitara’s touch, “It is better than it was.”
“He…”
Kanti turned back around and sat beside Sitara, “This is not your fault, Sita.”
Her fingers touched one of the yellowing bruises on Kanti’s left breast, “He would not have done this if it had not been for me.”
She covered Sitara’s hand with her own, “This is not your fault. Not any more than what they did to you is your fault.”
Her green eyes quickly looked away, “But it i—”
“Is not,” Kanti quickly interjected.
She closed her eyes, “The doctor…”
“Dilurba, what did he do to you?”
“He… he stuck his fingers in me,” she muttered softly. “And it… it hurt.”
Kanti hissed, “Did he…?”
“When he pulled them out, there was blood on them. He…he licked them.”
The older woman instantly tensed, “I will kill him.”
“He said… if my uncle will not have me, he will.”
Without pause, Kanti wrapped her arms around Sitara, pulling her close, “I will not allow it. We will get you out of here, dilurba. And we will go far, far away. No one is ever going to hurt you again. Donovan won’t allow it. George won’t allow it. I won’t allow it.”
Rating: PG-13 [language, drugs]
Summary: Kanti's mother makes connections to protect Sitara and her daughter. Both Donovan and George get a step closer to saving...
Entering her daughter’s room after the midday meal, Neela frowned. She approached the young woman’s bed, sitting down on the very edge. Her fingers reached up and brushed Kanti’s hair from her face, revealing the girl’s bruises and swollen lip. Her dark eyes met her mother’s and she attempted to force a smile.
“Child, I know you… feel poorly, but you need to rouse yourself,” she stated calmly.
“Why? Does he wish to beat me again?”
“No, no,” Neela quickly responded. “But rather… we are going to find a way to get you out of here.”
“What?”
She stood and retrieved the girl’s brush from her dresser, “Sit up, my daughter.”
Kanti slowly sat up. Sitting behind her daughter, Neela began to slowly brush her hair. Careful to not pull the brush too far down the girl’s back, knowing it had to still been tender from her previous punishment.
“When I was out shopping for the evening meal… I was approached by a young foreigner,” Neela stated softly.
“Okay…”
“He asked about your and Sita’s well being.”
Kanti pivoted quickly, ignoring the shot of pain in her back, “Who was it, Mother?”
“A Mr. Donovan.”
Her eyes brightened, “Really? Donovan is here?”
Neela nodded, “He is in Jaipur, yes.”
“Oh Mother… wait, what does he want?”
She tucked the girl’s hair behind her ears, “To see that you are alright. This evening, you will accompany me to the market.”
“I cannot go. The master—”
“Will allow you to come with me,” Neela interrupted. “He will not object.”
Kanti looked away, “Donovan cannot see me like this.”
She gently touched her daughter’s facial bruises, “Makeup will cover much of it and we will shroud you in veils.”
“But…”
“Kanti, my child, this is needed.”
“Why?”
Neela sighed, “We are going to need his help.”
“For?”
“To get you and Sita out of here.”
Kanti blinked, saying nothing.
“I will not allow either of you to be beaten or touched again. Someone on the outside will need to help us. Your Mr. Donovan is not from here and therefore more likely to help than if I were to somehow convince another,” she explained. “So we shall meet your Mr. Donovan and between the three of us, we will devise a plan to free you and Sita from Mr. Barlow’s control.”
“Mother… what has he done to Sita?”
Neela sighed and stood up, pacing over to closet, “The doctor was here yesterday.”
Kanti’s eyes darkened, “No…”
“He claims she is no longer a virgin,” she opened the door, drawing her fingers over her daughter’s garments. “Master Barlow met with her mother’s brother last night for dinner.”
“Oh no…”
“It has not been announced yet,” Neela stated, pulling out a sheer, black sari. “But I cannot help but think Master Barlow will give Sita to him…”
“He can’t! It’s 1968, not 1768!” she protested.
“I most certainly agree with you,” she retrieved undergarments from Kanti’s dresser. “I do not understand why Master Barlow has become so… antiquated, but we do not have time to look into the reasons why. We need to get the two of you out of here as soon as possible.”
“What about you, Mother?”
“I am an old woman. There is not much for me to gain by running away,” she declared. “Master Barlow will not know of my involvement in any event. I will see to it.”
“But—”
“Let us get you ready to meet with your Mr. Donovan. We will need to leave on the errands soon,” Neela stated.
“Can I… can I see Sita before we leave?”
She frowned, “I wish you could. She could use your love and support now, daughter. But I am the only one allowed in her quarters currently. Mahinder is guarding her door now.”
Kanti frowned, “Mother, how can he—”
“I do not know. But that makes it even more important for us to get the two of you out of here. Let’s get you dressed.”
Leaving his wife napping in the cool hotel room, George strolled along the street. He had attempted meditation to clear his mind, but found the thoughts invading his conscious mind would not free their grasp on his subconscious mind either. He could not shake the fact he was in Sitara’s city. He had known she was from Jaipur but it was not really anything concrete until he saw her father the evening before. It made sense why he felt the need to be there. He just hoped to find some guidance into what he could possibly do.
Walking the street seemed to be the best way to distract himself. In the very least, it gave him more to look at, more to… who was he kidding? Everything represented Sitara in his mind, even more so with the thought of her being near. He did not think her father was one to go far out of his comfort zone, so she likely lived near the restaurant. This meant that there was a good chance she had walked those streets before, shopped those shops before. She could be out shopping right then, though he thought she was probably too smart to shop when it was hot outside.
Yet the very thought she could be out and about slowed George’s steps. His eyes looked at every face as he passed, hoping to find her green eyes meeting his. Stranger by stranger passed and did not morph into Sitara. He was beginning to lose hope and energy because of the heat. He needed to take a break, seeking aimlessly.
Glancing up at the shop signs above him, George froze. Destiny certainly had to be toying with him that day. A large Barlow Teas sign hung over his head. Apparently, without intending to at all, George happened upon the flagship tea shop. Tea had brought her to him. Tea would bring him to her.
A choir of bells rang as he pushed the door open. The comforting scent of tea instantly assaulted his nostrils. As his eyes adjusted to the dimmer light of the room, he was greeted by a young man and shown to a small table. Glancing at the simple menu, George was a bit surprised to find a teahouse in India, until it dawned on him that Britain had taken over decades before. In fact, he had a feeling that was why Sitara’s father was even in India, but maybe he was mistaken.
Enjoying a nice informal tea, though that had not been his intentions upon entering the shop, George relaxed and looked around. Though attention had been paid to make it as British as possible, he noticed it was certainly outdated, as if the designer had not been to London in a decade. Maybe that was the last time Sitara’s father ventured back to England. Maybe that was why he was so backwards in his ways.
Finishing his tea, George wandered over into the attached retail shop. He selected a few varieties, a small smile teasing his lips at memories of sipping them with Sitara. As the shopkeeper wrapped up his purchases, including a small teapot, George sized up the man. He seemed to be kind and honest, perhaps could be a source of information.
“Excuse me,” he spoke softly, drawing the man’s attention to him. “I have heard that the Barlows are local. Is that true?”
The man nodded, “The Barlow estate is up on the hill.”
“Is it easy to get to?”
He shrugged, “It can be.”
“I am merely interested in seeing how Mr. Barlow lives. Is he not from England?”
“He is.”
“Thank you,” George overpaid for his purchases and walked away.
Though he had not seen Sitara, he felt a tiny bit closer to her. He now had a general idea of where she was located and had the feeling he could likely pay someone off to take him up to the estate. In fact, that was a good idea. First, he would return to the hotel and drop off his purchases. Then, he would storm up to Barlow Estates and… and what? He was uncertain. He just needed to go there.
Slipping into the hotel, he called for his wife, “Pattie?”
“George?” she leaned out of the bathroom. “How was your walk?”
“I found a teahouse,” he declared, setting the paper bag on the sofa. “And…”
“Yes?” she returned to the bathroom, applying lipstick.
“I know where Sita lives.”
“Oh?” her eyes met his in the reflection of the mirror.
George nodded, leaning on the doorframe, “I’m going to go and see her.”
“Do you think that’s a good idea? Do you think he will even allow it?”
“I have to try,” he stated.
She set her lipstick down, “I’ll go with you.”
“You don’t have to,” George replied.
“I know. But you might have a better chance of seeing her if I go along,” Pattie stated.
Seeing the logic in her suggestion, he nodded, “Let me know when you’re ready.”
Noodling around with his sitar while she continued getting ready, George tried to chase away his thoughts for a moment. Music usually could do just that, but seemingly not that day. His thoughts kept swirling back to the green-eyed girl. Without even realizing it, he found himself playing one of the songs she danced on his birthday weeks before. He could not escape the dancing beauty.
Waiting until he ceased playing, Pattie stated, “That was familiar.”
He smirked, “Yeah, I think so too.”
George set the sitar aside and got to his feet. With a quick kiss shared with Pattie, he headed towards the door. She grabbed her purse and followed him from the room. Once outside the luxury hotel, George led her down the street. He made a few quick turns, taking them to a far less reputable street. Pattie’s hand tightened on his in anxiety, but she trusted her husband. Minutes later they were seated in a dirty, little car, apparently headed to the Barlow Estate.
“Are we just going to walk up there and ring the bell?” Pattie whispered.
He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it gently, “That’s a start.”
The car halted and George paid their driver before glancing out the dirty window. Seeing imposing stone walls, he suddenly questioned what they were doing. But as the driver honked his horn, they had to follow through. Pushing aside his brief fear, George climbed out of the small car and offered his hand to help his wife.
Slowly the couple approached the large iron gate. Grateful the gate was open, George took a deep breath and headed directly to the front door. His dark eyes glanced at Pattie before he reached up and knocked on the large wooden door.
It seemed like days before the door slowly swung open. A short, older woman stood before him, her dark eyes quickly assessing his and Pattie’s appearance. She shifted her weight slightly, turning to face him fully.
“Master Barlow did not tell me he was expecting guests,” she stated.
“He isn’t expecting us,” George replied, squeezing Pattie’s hand a bit. “He does not really know…”
She eyed them suspiciously, “Master Barlow is currently not accepting visitors.”
“We aren’t really here to see him.”
“Then who?”
“Sitara,” Pattie spoke up. “Is she in?”
The woman’s eyes snapped to her, “Sitara?”
“Sitara Barlow, the pretty dancing girl,” she stated, “we were hoping to talk to her about—”
“I did not see you at Sitara’s last performance,” the woman interrupted.
George quickly stated, “We saw her dance in Rishikesh.”
The older woman looked to him, staring into his eyes for a long moment, “You are Sita’s friends?”
They both nodded.
She stepped out of the house, closing the door behind her, “Master Barlow is home currently. He will not allow Sitara visitors now. He will not even allow the household to see her, save for me. I do not know how long she will be kept in seclusion, but I am guessing he will never allow the two of you to see her.”
“Why not?” George asked.
She shook her head, “Not here, not now.”
“What? Why not?”
Her eyes darted around, “I cannot speak freely here. I will be at the market at sundown, shopping for the evening’s meal. Look for me there.”
“But—”
“Good day, sir, ma’am.”
Before they could stop her and ask anything more, the older woman re-entered the house and closed the door. George was tempted to knock again, but Pattie tugged on his hand as she turned back towards the gate. Sighing he followed her back to the street, hoping they could find a car to give them a ride back to the hotel. At least they were one step closer to finding and hopefully saving Sitara.
Leaning against a brick wall, Donovan sucked on cigarette flavored with some exotic spice. With a smirk, he looked at the cigarette before sticking it back in his mouth. He really liked the flavor. He would have to make certain he purchased a bunch more to take with him when he went home.
With the cigarette perched between his lips once more, his eyes danced over the crowd. A pretty girl with light-colored eyes swished her hips, drawing his attention. For a brief moment he was caught up in her seduction. Remembering why he was there, Donovan shook his head and forced his attention away from her. He returned to smoking and looking for Kanti and her mother.
His breath suddenly caught, the cigarette tumbling from his lips. Swearing, Donovan retrieved the cigarette quickly before stepping away from the wall and heading towards the two women. Kanti wore a black sari, a good portion of it covering her face. Even just seeing her eyes, he knew it was her.
“Hi,” he muttered softly, stopping in front of her.
She looked to her mother briefly, saying nothing.
“I shall return here once I have completed the shopping,” Neela stated, turning away.
Kanti motioned for Donovan to follow her. Without pause the folksinger followed her out of the view of the general public. He did not care if it could be construed as tantamount to scandal; he just needed to see and be with Kanti. The young woman slowly sat on a stone step in the alleyway, her eyes glancing at Donovan. He quickly sat beside her, reaching to embrace her.
“No,” she stated softly, holding her hand up.
Nodding, Donovan relaxed and focused on his cigarette briefly, “I am glad to see you again.”
Her fingers reached for his, intertwining with his hand, “How did you find us?”
He shrugged, “I wasn’t really looking for you. I just ended up here and… then yesterday I found Sita’s dad’s office and ran into your mum. Are you okay?”
She turned her face away from his and said nothing.
Donovan reached up and snagged the sari, trying to pull it away from her face. Kanti’s fingers instantly pulled his away, keeping him from revealing her face. Sighing, he dropped his hand.
“Kanti, what happened?”
Her sad eyes returned to his, “He beat me.”
His mouth fell open, the cigarette tumbling out again. This time he did not pick it back up, letting it burn out on the cobblestone street. His eyes wavered on hers, letting his anger show through.
“Why the fuck would he do that?”
“It was my punishment for helping Sita escape,” she declared softly. “I have not been allowed to see Sita, but I presume she too has been at the receiving end of the cane.”
His eyes widened, “He used a cane!?”
“Donovan, it’s okay.”
“Like bloody hell it is!” he jumped up, his hand breaking from hers.
“Okay, it’s not,” she agreed. “Please sit back down.”
With a sigh, Donovan dug another cigarette out of his pocket before sitting back down, “Okay.”
“It’s worse than just the beatings,” she declared softly. “Don…”
His eyes went to hers, “Tell me Kanti.”
“You need to help get us out of there.”
“Well no shit.”
“No, you really need to help get us out of there.”
He paused, “Why?”
“They’re going to marry Sita off — to her uncle — if you don’t help us.”
Hearing the door to her room open, Sitara opened one eye, trying to discreetly see who visited her. She did not know how long she had been locked in her room, nor did she care. Ever since the doctor’s visit… whenever it was… she wanted nothing more than to die. She did not want to marry her uncle, nor did she think her father had any right to make her do so. But she saw no way out of it. She was not allowed visitors, save for Neela. There was no escape, only death.
The familiar weight of a body sank her bed. She closed her half-open eye, not needing to see who it was to know who her visitor was. Soft fingers touched her forehead, brushing long dark strands from her face. A moment later, lips touched her skin.
“Sita, my darling, you need to eat,” her soft voice declared.
“What’s the use, Kanti?” she responded. “Soon I will be moved from one cage to another. It would be better to just di—”
Her fingers touched Sitara’s mouth, “Nonsense. Now sit up and eat with me.”
She still did not move.
Kanti leaned down again, this time kissing Sitara’s lips, “Sit up and eat with me.”
Slowly complying, the younger woman sat up. Kanti embraced her carefully, not certain where her bruises could be. Brushing her lips across Sitara’s once more, she pulled away. She clicked on a single lamp and grabbed the untouched tray of food. Sitting back down on Sitara’s bed, she picked up a piece of fruit, offering it to her best friend. The girl sucked the fruit into her mouth.
“That’s my girl,” she smiled, brushing the girl’s unruly hair from her face.
Sitara slowly chewed on the fruit, “Did he… did he hurt you too?”
Kanti froze momentarily, “Do not worry about that, Sita.”
She sighed, “He did.”
She offered her a slice of warm cheese, “Do not worry about it, Sita. I am fine.”
Glancing over her best friend, she frowned, “Kanti…”
“Relax, dilruba,” she popped a piece of fruit into her mouth. “Two days ago, I met with Donovan.”
Her eyes brightened, “Donovan is here?”
Kanti nodded, “He is. We are trying to figure out how to get us out of here.”
“Really?” her voice lightened more.
“Yes,” she continued to feed Sitara and herself. “Mother met with George and Pattie as well.”
“George is here!?”
Kanti grinned, “He is. Between the five of us… we’re going to get you out.”
“You too, right? I can’t leave without you.”
She smiled, “Of course I’m going with you. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
The two finished off the plate before long, not really speaking much more. Sitara spied some of Kanti’s dark bruises, making her feel bad once more. Noticing her friend’s mood dropped again, Kanti returned the tray to a nearby table. She returned to the bed, but did not sit. Instead, her eyes locked with Sitara’s and she quickly removed her simple dress, letting it pool on the floor around her feet. Green eyes briefly flicked to Kanti’s bare breasts, taking note that her friend did not wear a bra and marks covered her arms and torso. Sitara swallowed as Kanti turned around, showing the fading bruises and welts across her back.
Her fingers lifted and gently touched the marks, “Kanti…”
She struggled to not flinch at Sitara’s touch, “It is better than it was.”
“He…”
Kanti turned back around and sat beside Sitara, “This is not your fault, Sita.”
Her fingers touched one of the yellowing bruises on Kanti’s left breast, “He would not have done this if it had not been for me.”
She covered Sitara’s hand with her own, “This is not your fault. Not any more than what they did to you is your fault.”
Her green eyes quickly looked away, “But it i—”
“Is not,” Kanti quickly interjected.
She closed her eyes, “The doctor…”
“Dilurba, what did he do to you?”
“He… he stuck his fingers in me,” she muttered softly. “And it… it hurt.”
Kanti hissed, “Did he…?”
“When he pulled them out, there was blood on them. He…he licked them.”
The older woman instantly tensed, “I will kill him.”
“He said… if my uncle will not have me, he will.”
Without pause, Kanti wrapped her arms around Sitara, pulling her close, “I will not allow it. We will get you out of here, dilurba. And we will go far, far away. No one is ever going to hurt you again. Donovan won’t allow it. George won’t allow it. I won’t allow it.”
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