The Shallow Seas by Dawn Farnham Page B

flowing river. Tigran pointed out a hut amidst giant trees which extended out over the water. He often held bathing parties here, with picnics on the park. It was quite a common custom in Java, where the villagers used the river for washing and bathing.
    Tigran jigged the horses into movement and turned the carriage along the bank. They passed a boathouse, with boats pulled up on the side: little sharp-prowed, blunt-sterned, gaily painted craft with palm-leaf roofs to shelter from the sun and one large oar to row and punt.
    As they rode along the river’s edge, Charlotte saw that on the far bank, where the jungle relented or had been removed, there was a series of villages surrounded by sun-glinting paddy fields of rice. She heard a clear whistling sound, as plaintive as a wind-harp, and she saw floating high above three brightly painted kites, shaped like birds and winged dragons. She had seen fighting kites in Singapore, but these were new to her, and she shaded her eyes and watched as they swooped and soared, sending their music floating on the air. Their owners were lost in the undergrowth, and their lines so slender as to be invisible. They seemed to hang and swoop of their own volition, and Charlotte smiled.
    Here, Tigran told her, the villagers grew rice for themselves and for the estate. He took one-fifth of the rice as a tax, and the villagers were obliged to supply labour for repairs of roads, riverbanks, canals and other works on the estate and to grow and process indigo. Otherwise he levied no taxes. On the fringes of the estate, towards the west, he had opened a free market to combat what he saw as the pointless and invidious habit of charging taxes to transport and trade at the market places which existed in other parts of the city. Here the villagers could sell their surplus produce for money, for doits , the small copper coins of the Dutch Indies.
    They rode on, and Charlotte found that she was very interested in everything Tigran told her. She realised with a small jolt that she had already accepted that she would now be mistress of this place. It was a seductive and unsettling thought. He stopped the carriage, and they looked back over the park to the house standing on the knoll. From here, it looked quite small.
    â€œI want you to love this place, feel it is your home, Charlotte,” Tigran told her. He would have liked her to say, with ardent and passionate avowals, that home was in his arms only, but it was too soon, he knew, and he smiled at the thought of these boyish wishes. When he smiled like that, his mouth rose to one side and made his eyes crinkle. She looked into those eyes now, and for the first time she noticed that they were a deep brown flecked with gold. Like his sister’s, they turned up very slightly and were framed in long, black lashes. His face was etched with lines at the eyes and a slight furrow above his nose, which deepened when he frowned. These were the only reminders of his age, but they were not unattractive. She found herself smiling back, knowing his meaning.
    The road gradually moved away from the river and became a jungle path. The shade was deep and cool. Great groves of thick bamboo spread feathery green leaves along the length of the path and whispered and rustled, though Charlotte could feel no breath of air. It was as if they spoke a secret language known only to themselves. Tigran looked straight ahead.
    â€œI do not keep concubines, Charlotte, though it is common practice. I do not oblige women to occupy my bed.”
    â€œBut you did, Tigran. You had concubines. Takouhi told me.” Oh, dear Charlotte thought, why do I blurt out these things? What is the matter with me? But she wanted an answer. If she was to marry this man, at least she must know about this.
    Tigran slowed the carriage. Charlotte sensed in the tightening of his jaw a certain discomfiture. He spoke softly.
    â€œThere were two women. One was a Balinese girl who was in Takouhi’s