Echoes of a Promise (18 page)

‘Yes, I hear what you’re saying, Andrew.’ She recognized his oblique acceptance of the marriage idea, and took care to speak
matter-of
-factly. ‘I think it’s good for us to talk openly about these things, because I want to assure you that if something dreadful did happen to you, my sister and her family would always welcome Annabelle and me into their home.’ She smiled reassuringly. ‘And, by the way, I’m not a penniless widow, you know. Peter left me something in his will.’ Although she tried to make light of it, he bristled.

‘No, Victoria, that money is yours and I will
not
have a penny of it touched for either Annabelle’s needs or mine! We should be able to do
well enough on what I’ll earn and I’ve probably got sufficient set by now to establish a household wherever we’re posted.’

‘Splendid.’ It dawned on Victoria that this was the second time that she’d been the one to propose marriage to a man. How very different this tall, lonely man was from her handsome, ebullient Peter. But again she had no doubt that the decision to join her life with his was the right one. She
wanted
to become part of him. She
wanted
him to show his love.

As they sat facing each other, listing the practicalities of setting up married life together in a frontier outpost, she thought how Aunt Honoria must be chuckling now if she was looking down from her cloud!

Yes, my dearest aunt, I’m going to share the life of this reserved, complex man who is in desperate need of the love that I’ve come to feel for him. It’s not at all the wild, glorious excitement I shared with Peter. But I do love and admire Andrew for his strength and devotion, and the tenderness he tries so hard to hide.

Suddenly she stood and held out her arms. ‘Oh, for goodness sake, Andrew Wyndham, please stop talking this instant, and kiss me.’

He heard her words through the ocean roar of his own blood pounding. Scarcely breathing, he stood slowly and reached out to hold her. She gave a little gasp when their lips touched, tentatively at first, but as if it had set flame to tinder, the kiss swiftly became ravenous and the shameless splendour of desire carried him on. He held her closer and felt her tremble as she twined her arms around his neck and returned each kiss with a heartfelt response that rocked him to his soul.

This lovely woman truly desired him! As he desired her. He had no wealth, no glory for her to bask in, no proud family tree, yet by some miracle, she was prepared to become his wife, his companion through life. There must be a God in Heaven after all!

Slowly, reluctantly they steadied their headlong rush into passion and pulled apart, both breathing raggedly, both smiling. ‘Oh, yes,
Andrew. I’m sure we’ll do very well together out there on the frontier or anywhere else.’ She held out her hand. ‘Now, please show me the resignation that you were going to present to Colonel Moncrief in the morning. I want to watch you tear it up.’

He did as she asked, and felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. When he’d reduced the page to shreds, she gathered them up in her hands and threw them all into the lake.

‘Now, your first duty tomorrow, Captain Wyndham, will be to send a telegram to the Guides accepting the post they’ve offered. And please don’t neglect to advise them that your wife and child will be accompanying you out there.’ She beamed with triumph. ‘I’ll tell the begum that we’re engaged the moment she wakes in the morning. And will you call on Nigel tomorrow to give him our news?’

The melon-seller, sitting in the dark under the branches of a willow growing on the bank, nodded knowingly as he watched the English officer and the begum’s lady guest embrace on the houseboat. More change was coming. The augury he’d consulted last month had warned him that impatience would be the undoing of his enterprise. Wait, and watch for that one moment to act, the man had said. Be prepared to strike like a cobra. Fast and silent. The man pulled his rough cloak around himself as mist drifted across the lake. He waited and watched the houseboat. His patience was being tested.

‘You and Victoria are engaged? Andrew, my dear chap, this is wonderful news, indeed!’ Nigel pumped Andrew’s hand when he called the following morning. ‘And have you set the wedding date?’

‘No, we’ve made no announcement yet. Actually, it’s a long story, but we’re waiting to do so after my father leaves Srinagar in the next day or so. Then I’ll speak with the vicar. But I have other good news, too: I’ve been accepted into the Guides and Victoria will be coming out to Mardan with me. Along with
my
daughter. I have a three year old
who’s being looked after by the begum.’

‘Aaaah!’ Nigel was stunned for a moment, then he nodded sagely. ‘So this was the root of the recent gossip about my cousin?’

‘I’m afraid so.’ As briefly and simply as he could, Andrew explained the whole extraordinary story of his child. ‘I was on the verge of tossing in my commission and taking Annabelle away, until Victoria came to my rescue. I can still scarcely believe that she’s prepared to help me bring up Annabelle – and travel so far away from the comfortable life she’s always known.’

Nigel gave a chuckle. ‘Do you really imagine that she’s going with you all the way to Mardan simply to help you bring up your daughter? Clearly, old chap, you still have a great deal to learn about your fiancée. By the way, do I have permission to whisper your news to Kitty?’

No more than two dozen close friends, including the Resident and Lady Phillips, had been invited to Nigel and Kitty’s wedding.

Andrew paced up and down like a nervous schoolboy while he waited outside the church for Victoria to arrive in the begum’s carriage.

Dear God how he loved her, this woman of beauty, charm and wit, who was willing to marry him and bring up his daughter. And, wherever they went, he’d be called a lucky man, and envied for having such a wife at his side. Was it too much to hope that there might be other children as well in the years to come?

He prayed that the engagement ring in the gold silk pouch he had in his pocket would meet with her approval. It was a small diamond, but he’d chosen a setting that he thought would sit prettily on her finger. Lord, how he wished that his finances could have been stretched to afford the brilliant diamond cluster that the merchant had been tempting him with.

Of course, if he sold the ruby from Gwalinpore – but he could never do that. The ring had been Ishana’s, and one day it would be Annabelle’s – her one link with her own mother.

Victoria reached the church a few minutes before the bride’s arrival, and Andrew missed his opportunity to hand her down from the vehicle when one of Nigel’s old friends hurried forward to greet her.

‘Your timing is perfect, my dear Mrs Latham.’ the fellow said.
‘Look, I can see Kitty’s carriage coming up the hill now, right on time! Nigel has been waiting in the church for thirty minutes already! What a splendid day this is, and it does my heart good to see you, looking so well. It’s been far too long since we’ve seen you in Srinagar. Been away in the hills? Come, m’dear, I think it’s time to take our places.’

She looked across to Andrew and smiled apologetically. ‘Good morning, Captain Wyndham.’ He returned her greeting and followed her into the church, taking the pew directly behind hers.

The scent of massed flowers filled the air and the notes of the organ swelled as Kitty, radiating happiness, walked down the aisle on the arm of her cousin, the forestry officer.

When she left the church as the wife of Nigel Pelham, the guests formed a semi-circle to watch while her dimpled smiles and Nigel’s proud stance were captured by the photographer he’d engaged. Victoria thought how delighted the family at Cloudhill would be to see this new version of the cousin they’d once called
dreary
.

A small reception was waiting for the wedding party at the forestry officer’s house half a mile away and, as soon as Kitty and Nigel had cut the cake, Victoria and Andrew quietly excused themselves and slipped away. He helped her into the carriage, tied the reins of his horse onto the back of it, and climbed in beside her.

‘I’m afraid I must dash back to the fort and play more games with the maharaja this afternoon, but right now you and I need a little time to ourselves. I have something important to say to you.’

He called for the driver to pull over in a shady spot beside the lake, then reached into his pocket for the gold embroidered silk pouch. He heard her sharp intake of breath when he opened it and held the ring gingerly in his fingers.

‘Oh, Andrew!’ When she slipped off her gloves, he saw that she was no longer wearing her wedding ring.

‘Victoria Latham, will you – would you—?’ Until five minutes ago he’d had an impressively romantic proposal rehearsed in his mind, but
now the drumbeat of his heart drowned out the gallant words he’d stored in his head.

‘Oh, Andrew! Yes, yes, yes, of course I’ll marry you.’ She held out her left hand and he slipped the pretty little diamond onto her finger. ‘It’s lovely.’ Her voice caught. ‘It’s absolutely perfect.’

‘I hope the day will come when I’m in a position to give you something more impressive but—’

‘Stop this minute! You could give me the crown jewels, but they would never mean as much to me as this ring does.’ She held up her hand to examine it. ‘I love it. I love you.’ She reached behind his neck and pulled his head towards hers, to kiss him full on the lips.

‘Yes, Andrew, let’s marry very soon – just a private little ceremony with Nigel and Kitty there as our witnesses – though I’m sure you’d like to invite Sir Ian and Lady Phillips, too? Good. We don’t need flowers, or the organist, or the photographer – just the vicar, our signatures in the parish register, and a marriage certificate to show to my parents when they come to call.’

She gave a giggle at the thought of such an unlikely event ever taking place. ‘But, wait, actually, I
do
believe that they would approve of my marriage to you! After all, you
are
the son of a famous military hero General Gordon Wyndham!’

They both laughed at that and kissed again. And again.

Two days later, General Wyndham led his company from Srinagar with Mrs Beatrice Cooke looking very superior as she rode beside him. Mr Cooke had gone back to kill more mountain animals, but Mrs Cooke had suddenly discovered urgent business down on the plains that required her immediate attention, so she’d said. Gordon Wyndham offered to escort her all the way to Delhi. It would be no trouble – no trouble at all.

When Andrew visited the houseboat that evening, he gave an amusing description of his father’s departure. ‘Actually, I went to see
him last night – to say farewell, and also to inform him of our engagement.’

When she winced, he gave a grin. ‘Don’t worry, Vicky, you’ll find that I can be quite civil at times. Besides, I wanted to brag, didn’t I? And until now I’ve never had much to brag about.’

‘So, what was his reaction to our engagement?’

‘Oddly, my father seemed to be singularly unimpressed by my visit and everything I told him. All he wanted to talk about was his latest trophy, Beatrice Cooke. Anyhow, the good news is that a telegram arrived today from Mardan, confirming my posting, as well as our family arrangements.’

She threw her arms around him. ‘Splendid! But how do we get there? Do we have to ride the whole way? How long will it take? When will we leave? And when can we be married?’

‘Well, the answer is – yes, we ride through the mountains and over the Indus River. It’s about a hundred and fifty miles as the crow flies, but once we get around Nanga Parbat, the country gets higher, so make sure you have a thick coat to wear. We should be there in two or three weeks, depending on the weather and the pack animals.’

‘Oh dear! How my poor body will ache after all that riding.’

‘Never fear, I’ll find a sturdy mountain horse for you and have it brought down to the begum’s coach house so you can learn to ride it before we set out.’ He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her forehead. ‘And, tomorrow, I’ll see the vicar about marrying us just before we set out for the Frontier. Perhaps two Saturdays from now?’

Annabelle, sensing that some change beyond her comprehension was in the air, became increasingly restless in the days that followed.

‘Sweetheart, very,
very
soon, you and I and your papa, and
ayah
, too, are all going to set off on a long ride over the mountains, so we must pack up all the things we want to take with us. Along the way, we’ll eat our dinners beside a camp-fire, and sleep in tents – you and
ayah
will
have one tent, and Papa and I will have another. And when we get to Papa’s new fort, we’ll set up house with all the lovely rugs and cushions and pretty things that the begum is giving us.’

The begum also presented Victoria with a length of ivory silk and yards of lace for her wedding gown, and set her tailor to work on a design that she, herself, had drawn. Victoria wrote a long letter to Emily, describing every detail.

Andrew sent a message to Victoria saying that he’d found a
well-behaved
horse for her, though he warned that the mare was no great beauty. But she was a sure-footed animal, he said, and bred for rough mountain travel. He added that if Victoria had no objection to riding astride, he thought the saddle coming with it would suit her well.

When the begum heard that, she had her tailor make a divided skirt in a serviceable twill fabric, and the shoemaker was asked to stitch a pair of riding boots for both the memsahib and the baba-memsahib.

‘Come quickly, Annabelle, my new horse has arrived, so let’s go ashore to meet her,’ Victoria called, when word came that the animal was waiting. ‘We have to give her a name, too. Can you think of a pretty one?’

She took a small cake from a plate in the drawing room and, accompanied only by the Sikh, they were paddled to the bank where the
begum’s
syce
was standing with the reins of the saddled mare in his hands.

‘Is it a lady horse?’ Annabelle asked, as the shaggy-coated brown mare turned her head to inspect them. ‘Then her name is
Ladyhorse
.’

‘Thank you, that’s a lovely name.’ Victoria held out the cake and the mare’s velvet lips scooped it delicately from her palm. ‘Now, Ladyhorse, I know very little about riding you, so will you be very gentle with me when I’m on your back?’

The Sikh and Annabelle stood side by side, watching the
syce
hold the stirrup while the memsahib put her foot into it and heaved her right leg over the saddle. She felt balanced once astride the horse, and comfortable in her new divided skirt. Then, taking a nervous breath, she gathered the reins, touched her heels to the mare’s flanks, and it set off at a fast trot along the grassy bank.

The unfamiliar motion bounced her uncomfortably on the saddle, causing her to wobble precariously, and several times she came close to losing her balance and slipping off.

Both the Sikh and the
syce
began to run after the horse, calling directions which Victoria had no hope of comprehending. But she pulled on the reins and when the horse slowed, the men eventually caught up to her. They continued to run beside the saddle, using gestures to encourage her to rise to the trot and try to match the mare’s rhythm. It was some time before she began to master the movement, but by the end of the lesson, she had sufficient confidence to urge the mare into a gentle canter backwards and forwards along the bank, though she kept one hand clutched nervously onto the pommel.

The melon-seller sitting under the screen of willow tree branches lining the bank watched it all and readied himself. The child had been left unattended by the foolish servant while he ran off after the memsahib on the horse. The girl-child had been left to wander alone, and she was stopping every few steps to pluck something that caught her interest
growing in the grass. Now she was coming in his direction and he felt his excitement rising. He looked quickly at the floor of the boat where the sack was waiting.

The memsahib had turned the animal back along the bank; the servants were still running beside her, and the moment to snatch the child and escape with her this day had vanished. But it was all happening as he knew it would. Those who guarded the child were growing careless, and his patience would soon be rewarded.

Andrew came as often as he could to help Victoria gain confidence on the horse. ‘Try to put in a little practice every day, if you can.’

‘Yes, I promise I will.’ He didn’t need to remind her that long days in the saddle were going to be torture if she didn’t prepare her body for the ordeal ahead.

The bustle on board the houseboat mounted as the time of departure drew closer. Boxes packed with rugs and furnishings which the begum insisted would brighten Victoria’s life on the frontier were nailed down and stacked to await the arrival of the pack horses.

The begum was also preparing to leave Srinagar after Victoria and Annabelle had gone.

‘It’s been more than four years since I last visited my cousins in Paris and for some time they’ve been urging me to come. Of course, it’s been a pleasure to have watched Annabelle growing up, but now that fortune has smiled on Andrew, little Miss Annabelle Wyndham will have you to guide her. I’m delighted for all three of you.’