Veils of Silk(115)

Kamala studied her face. "Walk with me, my friend. You are troubled, and not only because of what the priest said."

Laura accepted the suggestion gratefully, and the women made their way through the palace and into the grounds. The park seemed to stretch forever, and it was a realm of peace and ever-changing beauty. Elegant pavilions were hidden amidst lush greenery, little brooks made music of falling water, and the brilliance of the flowers was rivaled by the bright birds that flashed through the trees and sang to the sky.

Walking helped Laura regain her equanimity. As they crossed a bridge that arched over a small waterfall, she said, "I'm sorry to have reacted so foolishly to what Srinivasa said. His comments about our characters and problems were very interesting, but I can't believe that future events can be predicted."

"It's true that East and West view the world differently, so horoscopes might not have the same meaning for Europeans," the maharani said reflectively. "Perhaps what would be fixed for an Indian is only a possibility for you." She glanced at Laura, her almond eyes teasing. "I think you should accept the predictions of a son and a long, happy life and dismiss the rest."

"I don't know about the long life, but I don't believe that we'll ever have a child," Laura said bleakly. "There are... problems in our marriage that make it unlikely. And it's all my fault."

"Do you want to tell me about it?" Kamala said in her gentle voice. "As a confidence from one woman to another?"

Laura hesitated, wondering if discussing their marriage with an outsider would be an unpardonable violation of Ian's privacy. But she desperately needed to unburden herself to someone wiser in matters of both the heart and the body. "If you have the patience, I would love to hear what you think. If ever a woman has been completely at ease with herself and her femaleness, it's you." Laura tried to smile. "But I warn you, you'll think I'm very foolish."

"Nothing that happens between friends is foolish," the maharani said serenely. "Come, one of my favorite spots is ahead. No one will disturb us there."

Another minute of walking brought them to a small clearing where pollen danced in the sun and the scent of flowers hung heavy in the air. Laura's gaze immediately went to the two swings that hung side by side from the branch of a massive tree. Thick ropes of twisted silk and seats cushioned to protect royal derrieres from discomfort showed that they were not playthings for children, but amusements fit for a princess.

Kamala perched on the right-hand swing, her small, sandal-clad feet skimming the velvety grass. "Now tell me why you think you're foolish."

Laura perched on the other swing and pushed her feet against the ground to set herself into motion. "One thing Srinivasa said that was certainly true is that I fear passion." As she swung back and forth, she repeated what she had already revealed to Ian. This time, the words came a little more easily.

After revealing her background, she described the curious matching of needs that had led her and Ian to marry. Kamala gave a startled glance at the mention of Ian's impotence—since it was no longer true, Laura felt that her original promise of silence was no longer in force—but made no comment beyond an occasional sympathetic sound. She simply listened, face gravely attentive, her silk sari fluttering gently as she swung back and forth.

"When she finished her story, Laura asked, "What do you think, Kamala? Is the situation hopeless?"

"Nothing is hopeless, Laura, and certainly not your marriage." The maharani tilted her head as she considered. "I think that in your mind, you have confused two different fears—not surprising given the example set by your parents.

"The lesser, normal fear is of your own longings. All innocents are a little afraid of passion—not only women, but men, too. It's frightening to know that one's will and judgment can be swept away by the embrace of the beloved. That is doubly true for someone of strong emotions, like you. Yet I think that if you had had different parents, your fears would have been no more than those of any young woman."

Laura sighed. She had hoped that Kamala would have some magical answer, but apparently that wasn't to be. "But I did have passionate, destructive parents. I share their blood, their flaws, and their doom—the inability to control passion. The proof is in the way I behaved about Edward."

The maharani wrinkled her nose. "I think you attach too much weight to that experience. You were an innocent then. Never again will you be so vulnerable, or so angry. The problem was not passion, but betrayal." She smiled a little. "Remember, you didn't actually hurt him, only the chair."