‘Yes, there is not a moment to lose.’ She patted the spot beside her, on the chaise-longue. ‘Could you come here for a minute, Mr Reid?’
‘Certainly.’
After he had seated himself she turned her back to him: ‘I would be most grateful, Mr Reid, if you could undo the buttons at the top of my gown. You will see there the end of a leather fastening. All you need to do is to pull on it.’
Zachary was quite nervous now, but he swallowed his apprehensions. ‘I’ll do my best.’
Fortunately the alcove was brightly lit, so he had no difficulty in locating the cunningly concealed buttons of her gown. When he had tweaked them out of their silken eyes, the cloth parted, just as she had said, to reveal something that looked like a leather shoestring. He gave it a tug and there was a loud creak, followed by a sudden easing in Mrs Burnham’s constricted posture.
‘Oh thank you, Mr Reid! You’ve saved me — I’m most grateful!’
Now, as Mrs Burnham’s bosom began to rise and fall, in a steady rhythm, Zachary’s eyes were drawn over her shoulder, to the jewelled pendant that lay at the centre of her chest. On its tip, suspended just above the bustline of her gown, was a sparkling diamond: it pointed towards the triangle of velvety darkness where began the valley that ran between her breasts. The dark little hollow seemed to grow when she exhaled: Zachary’s gaze was drawn so powerfully towards it that he unconsciously edged a little closer.
Mrs Burnham in the meantime, had braced herself for an even deeper intake of breath: squaring her shoulders, she suddenly flung back her arms, in the manner of a bird spreading its wings. The motion carried her right hand towards Zachary in such a fashion that the tips of her fingers brushed lightly across his lap.
The touch was no more than the skimming of a feather, but it drew a muted shriek from Mrs Burnham’s throat: ‘Oho!’
Quicker than Zachary could move, she whipped around, with her eyes wide open. He too looked down now, following her gaze. He saw to his horror that his toga had parted to reveal his drawers: the fabric had risen through the folds of the white sheets, and was now standing poised over them, like a tent hoisted upon a pole.
He snatched at the cloth, hurrying to cover himself, but it was already too late. Mrs Burnham had collapsed against the armrest of the chaise-longue, with her eyes shut and her hands clasped to her chest.
‘Oh! Oh! Oh! … Never did I think …! Not in a hundred years …! Oh my eyes! … If I could but wipe them clean …!’
Zachary had turned a colour that was closer to mauve than red; such was his shame that he could think of nothing to say except: ‘Oh please, Mrs Burnham, please — I’m so very sorry.’
‘Sorry? Is that all you can say?’
Zachary’s throat had gone dry; if he could have fainted from mortification he would gladly have done so — but his treacherous body offered him no such relief.
‘Look, Mrs Burnham,’ he mumbled, ‘it’s just that I’ve been rather ill of late.’
She made a hissing sound and he began to fumble for words: ‘You got’a understand, it just happens sometimes. It’s like having a pet that sometimes slips its leash.’
‘Indeed?’ said Mrs Burnham. ‘Is that what it is, a pet?’
Zachary was now incoherent with shame. ‘I’m sorry …’ He stood up and reached for the curtain. ‘That’s all I can say, Mrs Burnham — I’m sorry. I think I’d better go now.’
He had thought that she would be glad to see the last of him but he was wrong. She stopped him with an emphatic gesture. ‘Absolutely not! I will not hear of it! I cannot let you go back to the dance, Mr Reid, my conscience will not allow it! If a woman of my age can cause your … your pet … to misbehave like that then I dread to think of the antics that may be provoked by some fetching young missy-mem. And can you imagine, Mr Reid, what would happen if some tender little pootlie were to have an encounter with your … pet? Why, I shouldn’t be surprised if she went completely poggle and ran screaming out of here! Just imagine the scandal if people found out that we had sheltered you on our grounds! Why, I should not be surprised if we were ruined!’
She paused to catch her breath. ‘No, Mr Reid, I cannot allow it: it would be criminal to set you loose in that ballroom in your condition. You are right to say that you are ill — you are indeed in the grip of an illness, a disease. It is my good fortune that I am neither impressionable nor in the first blush of youth. I am fortunate also in having the blood of a long line of soldiers in my veins. My grandfather fought at Wandiwash, I’ll have you know, Mr Reid, and my father was at Assaye. I am a strong woman and will not flinch from my duty. While you are under my supervision you can do no harm; it is my civic obligation to see to it that you are safely removed from these premises. I will take it upon myself to escort you back to the budgerow. At once.’
Zachary was now completely crushed. Hanging his head like a chastened schoolboy, he mumbled: ‘All right — let’s go then.’
Turning her back on Zachary, Mrs Burnham issued a stern command. ‘Would you kindly do up the buttons, Mr Reid? Mine, I mean.’
‘Yes, Mrs Burnham.’
‘Thank you, I’m sure.’ She kept her eyes carefully averted from him as she rose to her feet: ‘Mr Reid, are you in a fit condition to step outside? Is your pet under sufficient restraint?’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘Come then. Let us put a good face on it and make our way back to the carriage.’
With her head held high, she thrust the curtain aside and surged into the crowd. Zachary trailed meekly behind, with downcast eyes, and followed her out of the hall and into the road beyond, where her buggy was waiting.
They got in and seated themselves, as far apart as the breadth of the coach would allow. The horses set off at a brisk trot and for a while they sat in silence, looking out of their respective windows. Then Mrs Burnham said, in a voice that was quiet but firm: ‘You are aware, are you not, Mr Reid, that you have brought this illness upon yourself?’
‘I do not take your meaning, ma’am,’ he responded.
‘Oh do you not?’ Now suddenly she turned to him, eyes flashing. ‘If you think your affliction is a secret you are mistaken, Mr Reid. The world has been alerted to this scourge by a few brave doctors, and you should know that one of them is here right now in Calcutta, attempting to combat the disease. I have attended his lectures and am perfectly well aware, as indeed you should be, that the unnatural excitability of your … pet … is a direct consequence of certain practices … beastly practices … you will forgive me if I cannot bring myself to name them. Suffice it to say that the name evokes a continent of darkness and degradation. To soil our lips with the word is unnecessary in any case for you are not, I think, a stranger to those shores, are you, Mr Reid?’
A rush of anger took hold of Zachary now and he said: ‘I do not know how you dare make such an accusation. On what basis, madam? And on what evidence?’
‘The evidence of my own eyes, Mr Reid!’ she declared. ‘Or rather, of my spyglass. I saw you that day — the day of your arrival, when an attack of morbid excitation caused you to tear off your clothes and fling yourself into the river. You had perhaps imagined that you were unobserved when you were giving release to your condition, though why I can’t think, since you were in full public view.’
Thunderstruck, he protested: ‘But I wasn’t … you are quite wrong, madam. I can assure you that I was not … doing what you think.’
‘What were you doing then?’ she challenged him.
‘I’d be happy to tell you, Mrs Burnham,’ he said. ‘I was merely polishing a pin.’
‘Hah!’ She gave a derisive little laugh. ‘That’s what you choose to call it, do you? But might you not just as well have said that you were flaying a ferret? Or banging the bishop, for that matter?’