Free By Eastern windows by Gretta Curran Browne Page A

by one of the rows of long buffet tables covered in dishes containing roast chicken, cutlets of lamb, curry, rice, chuppatis, mutton pie and so many other dishes that made the juices in his corpulent stomach groan with impatience.
    What the devil was keeping Maria and Jane? Why women took so long preening themselves up in the dressing-rooms before supper was one of the worst irritations men had to suffer. Did they have no consideration for a man's stomach?
    Guests jostled back and forth past him and James noticed their plates were, as usual, overloaded with food. It was laughable now to recall how he had been warned before his arrival in Bombay that the humid heat of India destroyed the appetite – yet he still had to discover any evidence of that. Personally, he loved the pleasures of the table more now than he ever did, more than he had previously loved women, and almost as much as he loved wealth.
    He looked again at the tables of food with a plunderer's lusty eye, but as ravenous as he was, to start tucking in before his wife arrived was simply not done.
    He decided to alleviate the torture by taking a brief stroll in the gardens at the rear of Government House. The night was very clear, the cool stillness of the garden pleasantly refreshing after the heat inside which even the swishing punkahs could not relieve.
    He strolled across the moonlit lawn, savouring the quiet beauty of the night, his footsteps inaudible on the evening-watered grass. He turned to the right, towards a group of flame trees, his eyes musing on the glory of tropical moonlight, when he noticed a curious scene by one of the trees that made his eyes blink in puzzlement ... Jane ... in close and intimate conversation with Captain Macquarie!
    The moonlight only emphasised the white rage that milked James Morley's face as he stared at the two figures by the flame tree. And when the soldier lowered his head and kissed Jane's mouth — blasphemy hovered on Morley's lips.
    But a cunning sense swiftly intervened and – No, he thought. No, it would not be him that was reduced to a quivering state of indignity as a result of outraged shouting. No, he would simply wait for them to draw apart and when Macquarie looked around and saw him standing just a few yards away, it would be him, the offender, who would have to find the babbling explanations and apologies that would be received with nothing more than his own frozen stare of contempt.
    Morley waited, and waited, but the kiss was endless. He watched in astonishment as Jane's arms moved around the soldier’s body. The minutes that followed seemed incredible to him as he stood in wonder and witnessed their strange intensity. He began to feel uneasy standing there, watching two people who thought they were alone, as if all sound was blanked out, as if the contact of their bodies and lips was appeasing some hungry heathen god.
    An ambiguous feeling began to replace Morley's anger, a feeling of being old, cramped, and a desperate desire to be somewhere else – anywhere else away from here.
    Silently, he moved away.
    Ten minutes after his own return, Jane entered the supper-room, a sudden burning colour tingeing her already flushed cheeks as she looked at the white face of her brother-in-law and the nervous tremblings of her sister.
    A few minutes later the Morleys and their ward left Government House.
     
    *
     
    It was no less than an ambush! That was the only way Lachlan could describe James Morley's action the following morning. Minutes after he had risen and dressed and before he had even breakfasted the man had gained access to his quarters and cornered him in a tirade of angry accusations.
    ‘I knew from the beginning that you were no better than all the other rogues in the licentious soldiery!’
    Lachlan wondered briefly if he could arrest him or kill him for disturbing him so early. He spoke as mildly as he could. ‘No, sir, you insult me, I am not a rogue.’
    ‘Well you are certainly no gentleman