Echoes of a Promise (13 page)

For a few moments Victoria could only stare at him and shake her head. ‘But I – I thought that kind of thing didn’t happen any longer.’

‘Yes? Well, the British have tried to ban it in areas that are under our control, but very few of the old ways have changed in the princely states – like Gwalinpore.’ He clenched his jaw and turned his head.

She sat motionless. Her heart ached for him and, when he turned back to her, she saw the misery in his eyes.

‘They say, of course, that the act of committing
suttee
brings great honour to a woman – to her memory. Of course, they claim that no coercion is used on the lady, that she is given no drug, that she feels nothing but elation when she— But how could they—?’

He bowed his head and held it between his hands. ‘Victoria, what in
God’s name will I tell my daughter when she’s old enough to ask about her mother? How can I ever explain that the beautiful lady who created her, the woman I adored, was Ishana – the raja’s favourite wife – and that she had thrown herself on to his funeral pyre to die in the flames? How can I tell her?’

Victoria felt her head spin. She stared at him wordlessly while her imagination tried to picture that scene of unspeakable horror; it forced her to take a number of deep breaths.

‘Let me ask
you
a question, Andrew,’ she said at last, quietly. ‘Why should Annabelle ever need to know the truth about the way her mother died?’

He swung to her sharply. ‘Because she’s going to ask me about her mother one day, so what must I do? Lie?’

‘Well, please look at it this way for a moment. You’ve taken your daughter away from her mother’s world where you say that such an unthinkable act is viewed with honour. Now Annabelle is growing up to look at the world through the eyes of a little English girl – a girl with a father who loves her dearly, a father who’s prepared to protect her by slaying every dragon that might come wandering across her path through life.’

‘Of course.’

‘In this instance, though, I think that knowing the truth about her mother’s death is likely to become a dragon of such monstrous proportions that not even the strongest and most loving father would be able to kill it. That monster could stalk a little English girl for the rest of her life. And perhaps devour her one day.’

His forehead creased and he scrubbed a hand across his chin. ‘So?’

‘So, perhaps, when she asks about her mother, you need to tell Annabelle only a few simple facts – construct a fairy-tale about how you and Ishana met and fell in love. Let your daughter know how dearly her mother treasured her beautiful baby, and how sad you were when Ishana became ill and died. That’s all Annabelle needs to know,
Andrew. Just simplify the truth.’

He dropped back on to his elbow and broke off a long stalk of grass to twirl in his fingers before he looked up at her and shook his head slowly. ‘The truth, Victoria? Where do I begin? I don’t know how the truth could ever be simplified because this is a tale of India, remember?’

‘Very well. Tell me, and I’ll put aside my English ears.’

He gave her a half-smile. ‘In the first place, what was I doing in Gwalinpore? Well, our government might consider that princely state to be an unimportant, insignificant place, but it’s vital for us to keep on good terms with whoever is ruling there because it sits directly on the army’s swiftest route into Afghanistan.

‘There was another dynastic upheaval in Gwalinpore four years ago, and a lot of blood was spilt before a new raja – just a boy – was chosen to sit on the throne. I was given the wretched duty of transporting the British Government’s gift to the new Highness – a hideously ornate black marble clock decorated with gilded cherubs and draped in the Union Jack. It was to have been presented during the coronation ceremony.

‘Well, the palace officials were most impressed when they saw me arrive with it. They assumed that I must be the personal emissary of Queen Victoria and that she, herself, had placed the royal clock in my hands. That fable seemed to add a little more significance to my presence in the palace, so I didn’t disabuse them.’ He turned his gaze to the tips of his riding boots.

‘There was a huge crowd gathered in the great durbah hall for the coronation ceremony, but halfway through, an assassin threw a bomb. It killed the little raja, along with a lot of others, demolished Queen Victoria’s marble clock, and left me, her emissary, with wounds that took months to heal.’

‘Oh, Andrew! What about Ishana? Was she hurt?’

He looked at her in surprise. ‘Good lord, Victoria, she wasn’t there.
The ladies of the palace never show themselves in public. They live totally secluded lives in the
zenana
– the women’s quarters – though there are passageways built in the walls for them to move about in certain areas and watch what’s going on from behind marble screens.’ His expression softened. ‘And sometimes there are doors concealed in the walls. That’s the way that Ishana came to my chamber to offer me comfort when I was hurt. And, dear God, how I needed it.’

Questions flew around in Victoria’s mind like bats in a cage, but she kept her lips tightly closed and continued to listen.

‘My legs were burned and useless, I’d lost my sight. Never in my life have I so longed for a quick death to release me from the pain, not to mention the fear that I’d be crippled and blind for life. Every day the healer came to my bed to treat my burns with his potions, and to pour his oil into my eyes.

‘And each morning he brought a fresh apology from the new raja, who happened to be an uncle of the dead boy, and was probably the one who’d orchestrated the assassination. It seemed, however, that the man who’d been given the job of throwing the bomb had mistimed it badly and, therefore, had brought great dishonour to their princely house by insulting Her Britannic Majesty. Not only had Gwalinpore destroyed Queen Victoria’s royal gift, but it had also nearly killed her personal emissary.

‘The new raja asked his auguries and soothsayers what offering could be made to restore the honour of Gwalinpore. And can you guess what the answer was?’ He flung the question at her as a challenge.

Her eyes looked straight into his. ‘Yes. I think he offered you the services of Ishana.’

Her frank answer surprised him. His tone changed. ‘She came to my room each day and provided me with the kind of comfort that makes a man want to live. I fell in love with her – desperately, and I knew that she truly loved me in return. What my arrogant English manhood couldn’t comprehend was that Ishana, the favourite wife of the new
raja, wasn’t required to stop loving her husband in order to give me her love as passionately as she did.

‘It was a long time before my sight returned and I could walk unaided. By then I was utterly, madly in love with Ishana and I even dreamed of finding some miracle that would keep us together. Could she escape from the
zenana
? Would she ever be accepted into my English world?’ He looked at Victoria and slowly shook his head.

‘What I’m about to tell you, remember, could happen only in India: When Ishana informed her husband that she was carrying my child, he consulted his auguries, and their readings gave him the news that he most wanted to hear. The birth of this baby, they promised, would provide the means to remove the veil of dishonour from the face of Gwalinpore.’

Victoria frowned. ‘I think I’m becoming a little lost.’

‘Ishana’s husband came to me and confirmed that the baby was undoubtedly mine as he had not lain with her since he’d sent her to comfort me after I’d been wounded. An unusual situation, yes?’

‘Indeed!’

‘Now he hoped that I would accept Ishana’s child as a gift, and that this offering would serve to expunge the great dishonour earned by Gwalinpore when Her Britannic Majesty’s magnificent clock was destroyed. And her emissary almost killed. The baby was due to be born in five months’ time. Where did I wish it to be sent – along with its wet nurse and servants?’

Victoria’s jaw sagged. ‘The begum?’

He blew a long breath between his lips. ‘I’d had no contact with that lady for fifteen years – ever since my father’s affair with her had ended. But, amazingly, she remembered me, and I think she’s taken some pleasure in helping me keep my secret from him during the last three years. The initial arrangement we made was for her to take care of Annabelle for twelve months, or until I’d left the army and found a situation where I could raise a child. And here I am three years later,
still floundering.’ He picked up a pebble and threw it into the gorge below.

‘I can’t impose on the begum for much longer, so perhaps I should present Annabelle to the ladies of the cantonment as a stray child that I found along the way—’

‘Hah!’ She could tell that he wasn’t being serious. ‘No, Andrew, nobody seeing you two together could doubt that Annabelle is yours. She definitely has your eyes.’ She raised one brow a fraction. ‘But how fortunate for her that she hasn’t inherited your nose.’

He gave a guffaw and rolled onto his back while the horses dozed and their riders gave no further thought to visiting any further sights this day. They stayed where they were on the edge of the ravine, growing increasingly easy in each other’s company, allowing their conversation to drift from one topic to another.

‘Time to eat?’ he asked at last and went to his saddle-bag for the egg sandwiches, the apricots and nuts, and flasks of lime juice that had been packed by the kitchen staff.

‘Here, you must be hungry,’ he said and settled beside her again.

She nodded and neither spoke while they ate. After she’d brushed the crumbs from her skirt, she gave a little sigh and stretched full length on the grass with her hands locked behind her head and her eyes closed. ‘Thank you, Andrew, that was perfect.’

He watched her and, with each passing moment, he could feel his emotional barricades crumbling. As a man who’d always lived much within himself, he couldn’t put a name to the sensation, but he knew that it was to do with her closeness. Again, it wasn’t purely the physical closeness.

‘Tell me about yourself, Andrew,’ she said, without moving or opening her eyes. ‘Tell me about India.’

With no particular starting point, he began to talk about the places he’d been stationed, some of the actions he’d taken part in, a few ironic incidents that made her chuckle, as well as his forlorn hope of
transferring to the Guides. He spoke of friendships that had been forged amidst warm blood and cold steel, as well as the times of monumental boredom when friction between men was quick to erupt.

‘Tell me about the scar on your cheek. How did you get it?’

‘Can’t you guess?’

‘I think—’ She sat up and looked at him narrowly, making a play of puzzling over the answer. ‘Yes, either you were grazed by an enemy bullet during some heroic campaign up in the hills, or perhaps that wound was inflicted by the point of a duelling sword. Did a jealous husband catch you dallying with his wife and call you out?’

He gave a hoot of laughter. ‘Well, let there be no secrets between us, ma’am. There’s nothing heroic or noble about it, I can assure you. I got the scar brawling in a native bazaar when I was more than a little drunk and a pickpocket tried to make off with my money. I caught up with him and, while we were scuffling in the dust, he pulled a knife. But I got my purse back and probably left him with a few broken ribs. So what do you think of that?’

Her hazel-green eyes looked straight into his. ‘I think you’re a man who protects what is his, and in this instance you acted with appropriate boldness and determination. I’m sure the end justified the means. Isn’t that what your friends in the regiment would have said at the time?’

He felt physically winded by the feelings she was stirring in him. ‘Ah, yes, the regiment. It’s certainly a family that takes care of its own – at least it looks after its men. Wives are another matter, of course, and there are many ladies who can’t survive the constant loneliness of living on the periphery of the regiment.’ For a few moments he lapsed into a thoughtful silence.

‘That makes it easier to understand why the ladies out here have to keep themselves busy by arranging their tea parties and card parties – and occasionally having affairs with other men to put a little spice into life. After all, they have servants to do all the work, they’ve sent their
children back to be educated in England, so, of course, they need their social activities to fill in the days until a husband’s home leave comes around every five years. Then they can escape from India for a few months – though some marriages can’t survive that long.

‘My own mother had enough after four years out here, and I can still remember watching her walking – no,
running
away from the house and driving off with some man. My father gave me a sound whipping when he found me crying for her to come back, so, as early as he could, he sent me off to a school that had a name for putting backbone into soft little boys. I think that the masters there did a first-rate job because I came back to India as a young man with lots of backbone and very little else inside him.’

She rolled onto her side and lifted herself onto her elbow. ‘You’re utterly wrong, Andrew. I’ve known you only a short time, but I can see so much to admire in your character. I know you to be a strong and honest man with a tender side that you try very hard not to reveal. Actually, I feel quite envious towards Annabelle for having a father like you. Did you never wish to marry some nice lady and—’

‘Marry? Frankly, no, Victoria.’ He grinned. ‘Perhaps that was due to the fact that, in the course of my life, I’ve known so very few
nice
ladies.’

She laughed aloud. ‘It’s not too late for you to change your ways, Captain. I’m sure that if Maud Pelham had still been alive, she’d have found a suitable marriage partner for you by this time.’

He pulled a long face and shook his head. ‘I must remember to send a prayer of thanks to whichever saint up there saved me from such a fate.’

She laughed again, then sat up and reached for her flask of juice. It was empty. ‘Oh, do you have any left, Andrew?’

‘Yes. Here, let me pour it into yours.’