Page 76 of To Break the Rules

The ton had come to see Aashini, and see her they would.

Dharani applied the bindi next, the small red dot position close between her eyebrows. The bindi denoted ajnaor the sixth chakra, the seat of concealed wisdom, and Aashini had never worn it before. The sense of connection, of belonging, became stronger as Dharani’s eyes met hers and her grandmother smiled, understanding.

Once done to Dharani’s satisfaction and the paint dry, her grandmother reached for the box containing the maang tikka Silas had given her. She opened the lid and smiled down at the glittering jewels with approval.

“A good man, your husband,” she said, grinning at Aashini. “Rich, too. This is always helpful.”

Aashini snorted and shook her head.

“Keep still or you’ll be wearing it on your nose,” Dharani scolded, settling the heavy disc in place upon her forehead and then arranging the fine gold chains, studded with pearls, so they rested in pleasing drapes over her forehead and hair.

“Ah, so lovely.” Dharani clapped her hands together, looking gleeful. “Mary, bring me the sari,” she commanded as her maid scurried to bring the carefully folded swathe of glorious material. It was a bright scarlet red banarasi silk sari, trimmed with a wide gold band, and Aashini felt her heart skip with a combination of excitement and fear. Red was the traditional colour for Bengali brides, but most of the ton would never have seen an outfit like this before, and she could only imagine what they would make of it.

“Like this, Nani maa?” she asked as she wound it about her hips and tucked the edge of the sari into the petticoat beneath.

Dharani nodded and watched, adjusting here and there as Mary held the material out to keep it taut as she worked. On her upper body, Aashini wore a fitted blouse in the same red-and-gold as the sari. It had short sleeves and was cropped beneath her bust, leaving her stomach exposed. It took some time to fold and pin the lush fabric of the sari, pulling a layer out to cover Aashini’s stomach and drawing it around her side. Finally the heavy pleat went up and over her left shoulder, where it was neatly folded to a point on her back, before it returned to drape over her right shoulder.

Aashini tried not to fidget as Dharani tweaked and fussed, examining each gather with a critical eye until she was satisfied. She looked up then, a glint of approval and excitement in her eyes before she turned back to her maid.

“Mary, bring that box I showed you this morning.”

The maid flashed a grin and squealed with excitement, hurrying off at once.

“What box?” she asked, looking at her grandmother with surprise.

Dharani shrugged. “Something I kept for you.”

A moment later Mary reappeared, carrying a heavy wooden box that Aashini could not recall having seen before. The girl placed it on the bed with care and then stepped back, looking as if she might burst with excitement as Dharani gestured for Aashini to come forward.

“I have saved these items for you, Aashini. They were given to your mother by your father, and he added to them in the years after her death. He always intended that you should embrace your heritage.” She smiled, smoothing her hand over the box. “He was not perfect your father, but he loved you, bhanvaraa.”

Aashini’s throat tightened as she stared at the box.

“Open it,” Dharani said, gesturing for her to hurry as both she and Mary were clearly dying for her to see the contents.

Swallowing hard, Aashini lifted the lid, and had to blink as the astonishing blaze of gold and jewels dazzled her.

“Oh!”

She didn’t know what else to say. There were dozens and dozens of bangles, necklaces, earrings and rings and… Good heavens.

She turned to stare at Dharani.

“You’ve had all this since we left India? All these years you’ve worked and scrimped and saved to keep us fed and clothed, and all the time—”

“These things are yours, Aashini,” Dharani said, her voice adamant, her expression fierce with pride. “I would rather have starved than sold them.”

Aashini stared at the old woman, at the ferocious will contained in such a small frame. Dharani had never allowed circumstances to break that will to survive, to see her granddaughter safe and in possession of what was rightfully hers. That the woman’s blood ran in her veins gave Aashini a sense of immense pride and such love that she feared she might cry.

“Don’t you dare cry,” Dharani scolded, though her own voice was thick now, her eyes too bright.

“Nani maa,” Aashini managed, before throwing her arms about the woman and hugging her tight.

“You’ll crease the sari!” the old woman protested, but she was laughing and hugging Aashini too, obviously as full of joy and emotion as her granddaughter. “That’s enough,” she said a moment later, before giving Aashini a look that reminded her of a small child choosing sweets. “It will take a while to put this lot on, so we’d best make a start.”

It was true enough, and it was some time later when Aashini was finally allowed her first glimpse of herself in the looking glass.

“Oh, my lady,” Mary said, her hands pressed to her heart as she stared at Aashini with awe. “I never saw nothing so beautiful. Not ever in my life.”