Solita drew in her breath.
When she had left the ship, she had slipped her mother’s revolver into the pocket of her full skirt.
It was intended for a handkerchief and little else, but the pistol was well concealed.
As Solita felt it hard against her hip, it gave her some comfort to know it was there, as she was well aware that the Duke carried no weapon with him.
The previous evening when they were going to bed Willy had asked,
“Do you intend to arm yourself tomorrow when we visit the Cipher Room?”
“Good heavens, no!” the Duke replied, “the Russian spy, if there is one there, could hardly attack me in front of half-a-dozen other people!”
“How do you hope to identify him?” Willy had enquired.
The Duke made a gesture with his hands.
“I have no idea, we must play it by ear.”
“Do you think he will look like a Russian?” Solita asked.
“There are hundreds of different castes in India,” the Duke replied, “all with individual characteristics. They could easily find a traitor in any part of the country.”
“How shall we ever know. How shall we ever recognise the man we are seeking?” Willy asked with a despairing note in his voice.
“Solita will say it is by using our instincts,” the Duke suggested.
“That is what we have to do,” Solita said, “and perhaps our vibrations will tell us he is not what he appears to be.”
“If you are talking about being clairvoyant, you can count me out,” Willy added sharply. “I have never been any good at that sort of hanky-panky. If a man attacks you, I will knock him down, but it would be easier if you would allow me to take my revolver with me.”
“And have an obvious bulge in your coat?” the Duke asked scathingly. “Certainly not!”
Solita said nothing.
But, when she climbed into the carriage to sit beside the Duke, she had been careful to sit so that he was not aware that there was something hard and lumpy in her pocket.
As they walked across the compound to the main building, she felt her revolver and thought reassuringly that it was there.
She had not learnt to shoot when she was in Italy with Aunt Mildred. She would have been horrified at the idea of her doing anything so ‘unladylike’.
It was one of her Italian friends with whom she stayed almost every year who had what they called a ‘shooting school’ in the basement of their Palazzo.
It was used mainly by her three brothers, who vied with each other in hitting the bullseye in the target.
They had been amused when the girls had challenged them.
As Solita and her friend were so eager to do so, the older brother gave them lessons.
“You never know when you might need it,” he said, “you could be captured and held to ransom and it is a good idea for women to know how to shoot as well as men.”
It was something Solita wanted to do, so she begged him to give her a lesson almost every day when she was staying in Rome.
By the time she was seventeen and so lovely that he was paying her extravagant compliments, he was only too willing to do anything she asked.
When she finally hit the bullseye three times in succession from quite a long distance, he tried to kiss her.
She had resisted him and continued with her shooting lessons by making quite sure they were never alone.
Now she thought how wise she had been.
Perhaps again she was being directed by her father in knowing that if the Duke was threatened, she would be able to protect him.
“I love you! I love you!” she was saying over and over again.
They entered the building where the submarine cable ended its long journey from the India Office in London. There were two sentries on duty outside and inside there was an ordinary office room with three men seated at wooden desks.
The Morse Code messages came from a strange looking machine that seemed comparatively unimportant for the work it had to do.
“This is what you wished to see, my Lord,” the official said as they entered, “and I must admit, I find it one of the wonders of the age!”
“I agree with you,” the Duke replied. “How is it possible that the British could have thought of anything so fantastic that a message sent from London can be here in a few hours.”
He laughed and added,
“We have taken nearly nineteen days to arrive!”
“I daresay your Lordship is aware,” the official said, “that it costs four shillings to send a cable in England at the standard rate to us in India! It’s a pity that as human beings we cannot travel by Morse!”
Everyone laughed at his joke.
They moved nearer to the men who were taking down the coded messages.
Solita, however, instead of looking at the machine, was looking at the three Indians who were working it.
Automatically she began praying that she could be perceptive about them.
She sent out her vibrations towards them.
One of the men’s skin was a little darker than the others and she guessed he came from the North.
He looked up as she was watching him.
She thought, although it might have been just her imagination, there was something hard, perhaps hostile, in his eyes as he looked at the Duke.
Then suddenly, as if a voice told her what to do, she called out loudly in Russian,
“Look out! There is a snake just behind you!”
At the sound of her voice, the three Englishmen turned slowly to look at her and two of the Indians did the same.
Only the man she was watching jumped up from his seat and turned round hastily.
Then she pointed her left hand at him accusingly saying,
“There is your spy!”
For a moment no one moved, then the Indian who was standing, pulled a pistol from the pocket of his trousers.
“Stand back!” he screamed at the Duke who was nearest to him. “If you come near me I will kill you!”
As he spoke, with his pistol pointing at the Duke’s heart, he began backing towards the door.
It was then that Solita, whose right hand was already in her pocket, pulled the trigger of her revolver and shot him through the arm.
The bullet passed through her muslin skirt and the explosion seemed to echo deafeningly round the room.
The Indian dropped his pistol and clasped his other hand to his injured arm before he collapsed to the floor.
As he did so, the other two Indians rushed to his side. The door opened and the sentries who had been on duty outside came running in.
As soon as they appeared, the Duke went to Solita and putting his arm around her took her from the room.
They went out onto the compound and only when they were away from the building did he say,
“You have saved me for the third time, my precious. Could anyone be more brilliant?”
“I-I felt as if there was a voice, perhaps it was Papa’s, telling me – what to – do,” Solita faltered.
“Can you walk as far as the house?” the Duke enquired.
“I-I am – all right.”
The Duke was aware, however, that she sounded a little shaky.
At that moment an empty rickshaw was passing them and he shouted at the man drawing it to stop and lifted Solita into it.
As he did so, Willy came up to them.
“That was fantastic!” he enthused to Solita.
She did not answer.
She merely closed her eyes for a moment as she said a prayer of thankfulness.
The Duke was safe – for the moment.
They had no idea whether the Russians in India would have been told by the Princess that they had gone to France.
Perhaps she was already aware that his destination was Calcutta.
‘Thank You – thank You – God – for helping me,’ Solita prayed. ‘At the same time – he is still – in danger.’
She opened her eyes to
find that they were at the house and the Duke was lifting her out of the rickshaw. He gave her his arm to help her up the steps.
Only when they reached the hall did she say,
“I-I think I would – like to – lie down.”
The Duke picked her up in his arms.
“Show me the way to the Memsahib’s bedroom,” he said to a servant.
They walked for a long way down a high passage to where the bedrooms were situated.
Solita’s room was very large and cool with windows opening onto the garden.
The Duke set her down on the bed and, when she had taken off her hat, he laid her back against the pillows.
“You were marvellous, my darling!” he said, “and once again I owe my life to you.”
He glanced over his shoulder and saw there was nobody else in the room.
He could hear Willy’s voice giving orders to the servants outside.
He wanted desperately to kiss Solita, but knew it would be a mistake.
Instead he lifted her hand and kissed first the back of it, then turning it over, the palm, passionately and insistently.
She felt a little thrill go through her which revived her far quicker than anything else could have done.
“I love – you,” she whispered.
“I worship and adore you!” he answered beneath his breath.
Willy joined them.
“How can you shoot so brilliantly?” he asked in a low voice. “I was wondering what I could do and cursing Hugo for not allowing me to carry a weapon.”
“It was foolish of me,” the Duke admitted, “but I had no idea how we could find the traitor or that he was ready to defend himself with a pistol.”
“I will tell you one thing,” Willy said. “It is the last time I go anywhere in this country without a revolver.”
“It’s not the Indians we are afraid of,” the Duke reminded him quietly.
Just for a moment both men were silent.
Then Willy said,
“All I can say is, thank God Solita had more sense than we did!”
He smiled at her as he asked,
“I am still curious to know what you said which made the fellow reveal himself.”
Solita gave a weak little chuckle.
“I said, ‘there is a snake behind you!’”
Willy put back his head and laughed.
“No wonder he was frightened and it was absolutely brilliant of you to think of it!”
Solita looked at the Duke.
He understood that she did not wish to tell Willy that she felt as if the idea had come directly from her father.
“What I must do now is to go and tell the Viceroy what has occurred,” he said, “and impress upon him that the whole incident must be hushed up.”
“Yes, of course,” Willy agreed, “and we should also go and see the Officer in charge of guarding the place and inform him that the injured man is a spy and a very dangerous one!”
“You can do that,” the Duke suggested.
“What will happen – to him?” Solita asked.
“You are not to worry your head about that,” the Duke said quietly. “Just rest and I will come back to see you after I have talked to the Viceroy.”
He smiled at her.
Then he and Willy left her, closing the door behind them.
‘Thank You – God, thank – you,’ Solita was praying again, ‘and please – help us with – the Princess.’
*
It was an hour later that the Duke returned.
He came into the room quietly in case she was asleep and found that she had undressed and was in bed.
It was too hot to need anything more than a sheet over her.
He stood for a moment thinking how lovely she looked with her golden hair falling over her shoulders, her bare arms resting on the sheet.
“You are back!” Solita exclaimed with a lilt in her voice.
“I am back,” the Duke said, “and I have something to suggest to you, my darling.”
He sat down on the side of the bed and took one of her hands in both of his.
“Was the Viceroy – pleased?” she asked.
“He is exceedingly grateful to you and will thank you later this evening.”
“That will be – embarrassing,” Solita said, “and I – don’t want to talk – about it.”
“What I want to talk about,” the Duke said, “is something very different.”
Solita looked at him a little apprehensively and he continued,
“Because I love you and because I think you love me, I have asked the Viceroy if we can be married very quietly here in his private Chapel.”
For a moment Solita stared at him.
Then her eyes lit up as if they were filled with stars.
“Married?” she murmured. “Did you say – ?”
“If I have to die,” the Duke said quietly, “then at least it will be knowing you are protected and looked after and perhaps I will be able to leave behind a son to take my place.”
Solita gave a cry half of rapture and half of fear.
“You must – not talk like that – but if I could – marry you it is – everything I could ever – want – and as I have told you already – it would be like entering the – gates of Heaven!”
“That is what I hoped you would say,” the Duke said. “We are therefore being married very quietly and secretly after dinner this evening.”
He looked at her for a long moment before he went on,
“There will be nobody at the Service except Willy and the English Parson, who will be sworn to secrecy.”
He smiled before he added,
“The Viceroy is a Catholic and he avers that there is no safer place in the whole of India than his own private Chapel.”
“And – and I will be – your wife!” Solita sighed softly.
The Duke bent forward and kissed her lips.
It was a very tender kiss and she felt as if the angels were singing and she knew she had never felt so happy.
The Duke rose to his feet.
“I am going now, my dearest one, to talk to the Parson who has been sent for.”
His voice deepened as he added,
“Then you will be mine!”
When Solita was dressed for dinner, wearing her best and prettiest gown, she wondered if the Duke would be disappointed that she would not look like a bride.
Her gown was white, but she had no veil and no wreath.
Then she told herself that it would not matter if she wore rags so long as she could be married to the man she loved.
She looked so happy, as the Duke escorted her into the huge drawing room where the guests were assembling before dinner, that everybody stared.
She was not only beautiful but radiant with happiness.
The aides-de-camp introduced them to the other guests, some of whom were English and some Indian.
They all stood in a long line as the Viceroy and Vicereine came into the room.
They shook hands with everybody present, the men bowing, the ladies curtsying because the Viceroy represented the Monarch.
They processed into dinner and it was a pageant of beauty and luxury.
All Solita could think about was that in a few hours she would be married to the Duke and she knew that he was thinking the same thing.
As their eyes met, their love seemed to fly one to the other like white doves.
At last the dinner was over and as usual in India, the guests immediately began to leave, so there was no need for the Duke and Solita to slip away.
They said goodnight to a few people who were left and with her heart thumping with excitement Solita looked at the Duke.
“Before we go to the Chapel, there is something waiting for you in your bedroom,” he said.
She asked no questions, she only walked with him down the passage which led to her bedroom.
As she opened the door, she realised it was different from how she had left it.
No
w there were many more flowers to grace the room and on the chaise longue at the foot of the bed there was a large cardboard box.
The Duke undid the string and took off the lid.
Solita looked inside and gave a little cry of delight.
It was what she had wanted.
She drew out an exquisite Brussels lace veil.
The Duke took it from her and arranged it over her head, but not over her face.
Beneath it in the box was a leather case which contained, as Solita anticipated, a diamond tiara.
“The Vicereine was very sympathetic,” the Duke said, “and she understood that today, of all days, you would want it to be one to remember.”
The Duke arranged the tiara on her head and then he kissed her very tenderly and gently.
“The next time I kiss you,” he said, “you will be my wife!”
As he finished speaking, there was a knock on the door and Willy came in.
“Everything is ready,” he announced, “the Chapel is not far from here, so you will not be seen.”
Solita took the Duke’s arm and they walked down the empty passages until they came to the small Chapel, which had been specially arranged in Government House for the Viceroy’s use.
The altar was ablaze with candles and there were large ones in carved gold stands on either side of it.
There were white flowers on the altar and large vases of lilies on the steps.
The Parson was waiting.
As Solita walked towards him on the Duke’s arm, she felt sure that her father and mother were near her.
She had found love as they had done.
The Service did not take long and the Duke made his vows in a deep serious voice.
Solita knew he was pledging himself not only to her, but also to God for the rest of his life.
‘How could any man be more wonderful?’ she asked.
She knew as she received the blessing that she had indeed been blessed and she must be worthy of him.
Then they were walking back alone while Willy had disappeared.
They went into her bedroom and the fragrance of the flowers filled the air.
The lights were very low and outside Solita knew the stars were filling the sky.
Then the Duke’s arms were around her and he said in a voice that seemed part of the blessing they had both received,
“You are mine! My wife! And I will love you through all Eternity!”
Solita and the Spies Page 13
