Danger at Dahlkari (11 page)

Dollie had gone on ahead to supervise things at the mess hall. Reggie was waiting for us downstairs, no doubt already highly impatient. I took a final look at myself: a bare suggestion of rouge on my high cheekbones, a hint of coral on my lips, lids faintly brushed with blue-gray shadow. I needed no mascara to heighten my long lashes and dark brows. I knew that I had never looked better in my life, and I knew that it couldn't have mattered less. The dance would be a tedious affair, overexuberant, everyone working doubly hard to convince themselves they could have a good time even if they were stuck out here in a remote outpost. The women would be overly vivacious, the men too hearty. The music would be too loud, and the liquor would flow much too freely.

The garrison was a tight, confined little world, inbred, clannish, a hotbed of jealousy and intrigue. I had discovered that during these past two weeks. Far, far away from England and certainly not a part of the country they occupied, the English here had nothing to fall back upon but themselves. It was easier for the men, for they had military matters to keep them occupied, but it was extremely hard on the women. Those without inner resources of their own found it a hard go. They thrived on gossip, on petty intrigues and rivalries, and none of them were in the least interested in India itself. They considered the natives rather simpleminded children who had to be disciplined with a firm hand—“They make wonderful servants, don't you know, but, really, they must be kept in their place!” With the exception of occasional forays into the village to examine the exquisite silks and trinkets on display at the bazaars, they kept aloof and apart from anything un-English.

Dollie and I had paid calls and taken tea in cozy, over-furnished parlors, Sally rarely accompanying us, for she had her own interests. I had met most of the women on post, had smiled and pretended to be interested in their shallow gossip, had politely answered question after question about England, Engish theater, English fashions, and never once had one of them mentioned anything about India. We had gone to the polo matches, sitting on tiers of benches to watch English gentlemen in their white suits and pith helmets riding their horses, hitting their ball across the grassy field to shouts of “Well done!” and “Fine show!” and “Carry on, chap!” and beyond the field, below the slope, I could see the river and the native women with their pitchers and the water buffalo, and it had all seemed a kind of madness, for we were in the heart of India, yet we weren't, not really. These people lived in a world apart and India existed for them only as a source of constant irritation.

I found it difficult to understand their narrow-mindedness, their self-conscious superiority. My parents had loved India, had found it a place of infinite variety and fascination, as, indeed, did Dollie and Reggie, which was probably one of the reasons he had achieved his prominent position. As a child I had been taken on wonderfully exciting outings and expeditions to see temples and ruins, to watch native dances, to view Indian art, and I had absorbed all the rich flavor, all the exotic color and detail abounding on every side. These people on post were totally disdainful of the natives and their native culture, unconcerned with the dreadful poverty and suffering that was the daily lot of the majority. No, they were interested only in England and English ways and their roles as English citizens in a barbaric, uncivilized country.

Perhaps I was being too hard on them. Most of them had good intentions, and I knew there were any number of English men and women who were devoting their lives to alleviating the suffering around them and trying to help the natives with schools and hospitals and medicine. They were a small minority though, and none of them happened to be in Dahlkari.

We had been here for two weeks, and Dollie had been wonderful and warm and amusing, Reggie a delightful if somewhat grumpy host, but already I was bored and preferred to spend my time alone in my room with one of the books I had brought along. I could never fit into this kind of life. It had taken me only two weeks to discover that. In many ways the atmosphere here was even more stifling than that at school back in Bath. Dollie assured me I would buck up as soon as Lieutenant Stephens returned, convinced there was nothing wrong with me a bit of romance wouldn't cure. Lieutenant Stephens had returned this afternoon, Sally had informed me, and he would probably be at the dance. I was not the least bit interested, and that was certainly not the reason I had taken such care with my appearance tonight.

Sally came bursting into my room, breaking into my reverie. She wore her red dotted swiss, and with her tarnished gold curls all atumble and her brown eyes alight with excitement she looked like a fetching young hoyden, far too vital and aglow to be mistaken for a lady. Sally was a sore point with a number of women on post. They considered her an outrageous creature much too bold to be acceptable in proper society, but as she was a guest in Dollie's house none of them quite dared snub her openly. Sally found their attitude amusing and claimed she felt sorry for the “whole dull lot of 'em.” It wasn't the women she was interested in, needless to say.

“You look smashing, Miss Lauren!” she exclaimed. “That dress—it's going to send a few eyebrows soaring, just you wait. How do
I
look? Do I look all right?”

“You look enchanting, Sally.”

“Red's my color, I do believe. I'm ever so excited, Miss Lauren—” Sally had taken my place in front of the mirror and was adjusting the bodice of her dress, arranging it so that a fraction more bosom showed. “I intend to pay quite a lot of attention to that good-looking Sergeant Brown tonight, even if he
is
rather slow. That should show Bill Norman a thing or two.”

“I thought you and Sergeant Norman were—”

“Bill Norman and I aren't
any
thing! Promised to take me to a café in the village, he did, and I was looking forward to it. He stood me up good and proper. I don't intend to take
that
kind of treatment from any man. No indeed.”

“I understand he had guard duty that night.”

“He could have switched out with someone easily enough,” she retorted. “I expect he'll fume and fume. He and Sergeant Brown are great rivals, you know. Can't abide each other. There might even be a
fight
!”

Sally smiled her pixie smile, delighted with the idea. Poor Sergeant Norman was in for a tough time this evening, but I doubted he would take it lying down. The moment he had laid eyes on Sally he had marked her as his own, promptly and forcefully discouraging all rivals, and I suspected she had finally met her match. Good natured but stern, Norman was one of the few men she wasn't able to boss around, one of the few she wasn't able to treat in her customary cavalier manner. She candidly admitted that he was
the
most exciting man she had ever met, also the most infuriating.

“I suppose I'll
do
,” she said. “If this dress doesn't do the trick nothing will.”

“We'd better go on down now. Reggie will be champing at the bit.”

“Probably so,” she agreed. “He usually is. Such an old phony. He's not nearly as fierce as he pretends to be. Actually, he's quite a dear, even if he
does
tease all the time.”

“He's very fond of you.”

“We hit it off from the very first. I'm not
afraid
of him, you see, and he finds that refreshing.”

Reggie was waiting in the front hall as we came downstairs. Lamps were glowing warmly, and there was a scent of beeswax and lemon. Wearing his full-dress uniform, our escort looked both impressive and formidable, his expression quite stern. Short-clipped brown hair fitting his skull like a cap, mustache freshly trimmed, he scowled, piercing gray eyes observing us as we moved down the final steps in a rustle of skirts. He deliberately took out his watch and scrutinized it.

“Now don't you dare scold,” Sally warned. “It takes
time
to make ourselves beautiful, and you should feel honored to be escorting the two most glamorous creatures on post.”

“Hump!” he snorted.

“I must say you look absolutely dashing in that uniform. It's a shame I'm so fond of Dollie. If I weren't, I just might
forget
myself, I admit it with no shame. I always did like a mature man.”

“Go on!” Reggie said gruffly, but a smile played at the corners of his mouth and there was an undeniable twinkle in those severe gray eyes. “Saucy jade! Back in the old days you'd have been clapped in irons as a disturbing influence. Two of my best sergeants at each other's throats, half the men on post dreamy-eyed, unable to do their jobs properly.”

“I can't help that,” Sally said coyly. “At any rate, you're the lucky man tonight.”

Reggie chuckled, unable to maintain his rigid façade. Kulloo came in with his sword and cape, and Reggie fastened the sword to the side of his sash, muttering that the thing was a damned nuisance. He swung the cape around his shoulders with a dramatic flourish and then stepped over to the hall table and picked up his tall, beplumed hat. These embellishments made him look even more impressive, and I could tell by the way he examined himself in the mirror that he was proud to cut such a splendid figure. Kulloo held the door open for us and we moved out onto the front veranda. I took one of Reggie's arms, Sally took the other, and the three of us went down the steps and started across the green.

It was a warm, lovely night, the deep gray sky frosted with stars, the green spread with velvety blue-black shadows and patches of misty moonlight that brushed the ground with silver. Lights glowed in windows of all the houses around the green, making soft golden squares against the dark. Insects hummed, and there was the smell of newly mowed grass. I could hear a group of children playing in one of the back lawns, supervised, no doubt, by one of the faithful ayahs. As we strolled across the green I remembered just such nights as this when my parents had gone to dances and I had been one of the children left behind. It seemed such a very long time ago. Remembering that exuberant little girl made me feel rather pensive.

“—fine fellow,” Reggie was saying, “and I don't want you ruining him. Soldiers like Norman are rare indeed. One of the best men in the outfit, he is, rugged as they come, smart as a whip. Can't let a mere bit of skirt mess up a lad like that.”

“Oh, I shan't hurt him,” Sally promised.

“Good-looking rascal, too. Sober, levelheaded, or
was
until you came along. You behave yourself now, hear? I say, this damned sword is awkward. Never could abide 'em. All this fuss and bother! I'd much rather be home with my manuals.”

“No you wouldn't,” Sally teased. “You're really a show-off at heart, and just think of the impression you're going to make when you step in with two beautiful women. Your men will be
green
with envy.”

Reggie chuckled again, delighted with Sally, delighted with himself. We had left the green now and were passing along rows of barracks. Through the opened windows I could see spartan bunks, a few desolate-looking men in undershirts polishing boots and shining brass. We passed a sentry. He gave Reggie a smart salute, and as we passed I saw him looking at Sally and me with a lonely, heartsick expression. He was extremely young, as were most of the enlisted men out here. I wondered if he had a girl back in England who wrote to him. Touched by that longing look in his eyes, I hoped so.

“You're awfully quiet tonight,” Reggie said, squeezing my arm. “Looking forward to the dance?”

“I—I suppose so.”

“You look lovely tonight. Did I tell you that earlier? Meant to, at any rate. Dollie and I are ever so proud to have you here, you know. You're like the daughter we never had.”

“Thank you for saying that, Reggie.”

“Oh, I bluster and boom a lot, but I have an occasional moment or two every now and then when I'm as human as the next chap. Not often, though. Can't afford it! Have to keep the whole show running smoothly. Mustn't let 'em catch me off guard.”

“I'm sure you do a magnificent job.”

“I don't know about that. It's been pretty sticky of late—”

Reggie cut himself short, and I could tell that he was thinking about the Thuggee situation, too tactful to mention it under the circumstances. Shaded by tall trees, surrounded by neat gardens, the mess hall loomed up ahead, sounds of merry festivity pouring out into the night. Tall French windows opened onto the shadowy veranda, golden light streaming out, and through them I could see men in uniform and elegantly begowned women moving about. Selected members of the military band were tuning up their instruments, awaiting our arrival. The dance couldn't begin, of course, until the commanding officer arrived. As we stepped onto the veranda, I braced myself mentally for the ordeal ahead, determined to put on a good front for Dollie's sake.

Our entrance was undeniably spectacular. As soon as we stepped through the door someone yelled “Attention!” and all the men snapped to, all noise and activity ceased. All eyes were upon us. Reggie seemed to swell with pride, not merely because of his position but because he had an attractive young woman on either arm, one in red, one in creamy white. He nodded a bit grandly and said “As you were,” then removed cape and hat and gave them to the young subaltern who rushed over to take charge of them. People began to talk and laugh and move about again, the frozen tableau melting into a kaleidoscope of color.

Dollie had done herself proud. The mess hall had been cleared, wooden floor polished to a high sheen, armchairs and small sofas and potted ferns situated around it. The rafters were hung with streamers of colored paper and balloons that bobbed in the breeze coming through the opened French windows. The band was half concealed by banks of fern at the far end of the room, and there was a “social area” at the other end, long, linen-covered tables laden with a lavish buffet, with crystal punch bowl abrim with ruby red punch afloat with orange slices, crystal cups surrounding it. There was a long bar as well, row upon row of bottles, turbaned native servants to wait upon the guests.