“It seems somehow – unsporting, or what in England we would call – ‘not cricket’,” she replied.
Lord Branscombe laughed.
“There is one rule for England and another for India,” he answered, “and I can assure you that the Rajah or any other host we may stay with will expect those who accompany me to make investigations on my behalf, while taking every precaution to ensure that they find nothing incriminating.”
“You make it sound like a game.”
“That is exactly what it is,” Lord Branscombe replied. “As the conquerors of India, we have our ideas of what is right and just, while naturally the Indians do everything in their power to prevent our ideas superseding theirs, which they consider are better simply because they are steeped in tradition.”
“But must you interfere?”
“We try not to, except when things go really wrong,” Lord Branscombe explained, “such as the crimes committed by the thugs who kill thousands of people every year just because it is part of their religion or the horrors of Suttee and child marriages in which many of the brides are no more than three to five years old!”
“I can understand that to insist on those reforms is absolutely right,” Latonia said.
“And it is also right that our Empire should not be challenged by another Power,” Lord Branscombe added drily.
“Do you mean Russia?”
He nodded his head instead of speaking and Latonia thought that he did not wish to continue the conversation any further.
She sat thinking over what he had said, until, when they were once again in the train carrying them Northwards, she asked,
“Where are we going now?”
“Tonight, as it happens,” Lord Branscombe replied, “we are staying in a camp where a Battalion of my Regiment is stationed.”
Latonia looked interested as Lord Branscombe continued,
“I am afraid that you will find it very dull, as I wish to dine in the Mess, where, of course, women are not permitted and I understand that the Officers at this time of the year are not accompanied by their wives.”
“What you are saying,” Latonia replied, “is that I shall be left alone.”
“Exactly,” Lord Branscombe agreed, “although naturally you will be properly guarded with servants to wait on you and sentries outside the bungalow.”
However, she thought that this was rather poor comfort when Lord Branscombe, looking resplendent in the evening dress of the Bengal Lancers, left quite early in the evening to go to the Mess.
She was not impressed by the Barracks, which she was sure were typical of Regimental Barracks all over India.
There were rows of brick and plaster buildings for the English soldiers and huts for the Indian sepoys.
The ground they drilled on was beaten-down sand without a hint of greenery or colour about it and the children playing looked pale and emaciated from the heat and doubtless the wrong sort of food.
However, the bungalow where Lord Branscombe and Latonia stayed was on the outskirts of the camp and had a small garden, which gave it a more attractive appearance.
There were the usual number of rooms and the inevitable verandah with wooden steps down to a straggling grass lawn.
The conventional furniture inside had, Latonia guessed, passed through the possession of numerous owners, losing some of its freshness every time it changed hands.
As they had been travelling since dawn, she was quite glad that she did not have to make an effort at dinner time to talk to Army Officers who would much rather be listening to Lord Branscombe.
At every station they stopped at, there had always been Officers to greet him and spend the half-hour or sometimes an hour, while the train waited, talking with him earnestly in low voices that prevented Latonia from hearing what they said.
‘It is obviously a mission of importance and they are very impressed with him,’ she told herself.
She thought that it was not surprising as he had such an air of distinction and she could understand that his brother had resented his being so clever and rising so rapidly in the Army until he had, she thought, the aura of a hero about him.
Latonia could imagine him leading his troops into battle with his sword drawn, the men behind him prepared to follow him even if it meant they must die.
Then she told herself that she was only being imaginative as doubtless Lord Branscombe would be the brains behind any encounter with an enemy, but would leave the dash and the glory to younger men who only did what they were told to do.
When he had left and the sentries outside the bungalow had come sharply to attention as he climbed into the carriage that had been sent to collect him, Latonia sat down in the sitting room and picked up a book.
As it was still very hot and she had been travelling all day, she felt sleepy and found it difficult to concentrate on what she was reading.
Dinner was ready for her a little later, but it was dull and uninteresting, consisting of the inevitable brown soup, a skinny chicken that had been alive earlier in the day and a caramel pudding.
This apparently was the favourite dish of every Memsahib in India and the servants who had learnt it from them found it easier to prepare than any other dish.
‘I am sure that if I was allowed to do the housekeeping I would think of much more imaginative dishes,’ Latonia thought.
She wondered if she dare suggest to Lord Branscombe that, if they stayed for any length of time anywhere, she might choose the menus.
When dinner was over, she returned to the sitting room, where an oil lamp had been lit and once again she took up her book.
Perhaps it was the slow-moving punkah overhead or perhaps, because her thoughts that turned into dreams were so much more interesting than what she was trying to read, she must have fallen asleep.
She awoke with a start to hear the sound of wheels, the jingle of horses’ bridles and the slap of the sentries’ rifles as they came to attention.
‘Lord Branscombe is back!’ she thought.
She sat up quickly on the sofa, feeling glad that he had returned and she was no longer going to be alone.
She heard his footsteps cross the verandah and then he walked into the room, seeming to fill it with his presence, the light from the lamp glittering on the decorations on his chest.
Latonia was looking at his face and she thought he had a strange expression in his eyes to which, for the moment, she could not put a name.
“I thought you would not yet have retired to bed,” he said, “so I have brought someone to meet you. Someone who I hope you will be pleased to see again.”
As Latonia heard the last word of what Lord Branscombe was saying, she was intently on her guard! That he had said ‘again’ made it obvious that she was to meet someone who knew Toni.
Then, as she knew that what was about to happen constituted danger, a man came into the room.
She wondered frantically who he could be.
He was wearing the same uniform as Lord Branscombe, but he was not so tall and had, although he was young, a thin lined face.
Desperately Latonia wondered what she should do and what she should say. She was well aware that Lord Branscombe was standing near her and looking at her in a manner that made her realise that he was watching for her reaction to the newcomer.
Then, with a mocking note in his voice, he said,
“Of course you will remember Andrew Luddington?”
Latonia drew in her breath and, then as her eyes turned towards the visitor, she saw his expression of bewilderment and surprise.
For a moment he did not speak and then quite naturally he remarked,
“I am sorry, my Lord, I must have misunderstood you. I thought you told me that your niece was staying with you.”
It was Lord Branscombe’s turn to look astonished.
“This is my niece,” he replied.
There was a faint smile on Andrew Luddington’s lips as he answered,
“That’s as may be, sir,
but I was expecting to meet Antonia Combe, whom I knew in London. She was always called ‘Toni’. Of course I might have guessed that she would have no interest in coming to India when there is so much to keep her well amused in England.”
There was a tone of bitterness in his voice and, as if the disappointment of not finding who he had hoped to see in the bungalow was unbearable, he said quickly,
“If you will excuse me, my Lord, I will get back. It would be a mistake to keep the horses waiting.”
It was quite obviously an excuse to get away and, as Andrew Luddington turned and started to walk back to the verandah from where he had come, Lord Branscombe followed him.
Latonia stood without moving until she heard the carriage drive away and for one moment she felt that she must go too!
She wanted to run and hide even in the darkness of the garden rather than face Lord Branscombe.
Then a pride that she did not know she possessed made her stand where she was, her eyes seeming to fill her whole face as he came back into the room, closing the door behind him.
He walked towards her to stand looking at her so accusingly that she felt as if she were in the prisoners’ dock.
“I suppose I am entitled to an explanation!”
“I am – sorry that I have – deceived you.”
“If you are not my niece, then in the name of Heaven, who are you?”
“I – am – Latonia Hythe.”
She saw a flicker of recognition in his eyes when she mentioned her name and, after a moment, he asked,
“Do you mean that you are Arthur and Elizabeth Hythe’s daughter?”
“Y-yes.”
“I knew that they had one because they talked about her, but perhaps you will inform me why you are here in the place of my niece, Antonia Combe?”
Latonia drew in her breath. Because of the sharp edge in Lord Branscombe’s tone and the anger in his eyes, she felt as if her voice had died in her throat and it was impossible to speak.
“Toni – could not leave – England at this particular – moment,” she faltered.
“What do you mean she could not?”
“She – she is in – love – ”
It was difficult to say the words, which seemed to come to her lips reluctantly.
“That is hardly anything new,” Lord Branscombe said scathingly. “So, because of a fresh infatuation for another wretched man, whom she will doubtless treat in the same diabolical manner as she treated young Luddington, you and she thought up this incredible masquerade!”
“Toni is in – love as she has never been in – love before,” Latonia said in a very small voice.
“If that was her excuse for not obeying my instructions, she might have had the courage and the decency to tell me so.”
“Would you have – listened to her?”
Latonia felt as if she was being impertinent and Lord Branscombe walked across the room before he said,
“I suppose that I should have been suspicious when you turned out to be so different from what I expected. At the same time I can hardly imagine a more disgraceful and underhanded deception than that you should take the place of my niece and put me in this position by your lies and deceit.”
“I-I – am – sorry,” Latonia murmured, “very – very – sorry.”
“That is hardly enough!”
Lord Branscombe was silent and Latonia wondered frantically what else she could say. Then, as if he suddenly thought of it, he put his hand into the pocket of his tunic and said,
“Perhaps this will throw some light on your extraordinary behaviour. It was waiting for me when I reached the mess and because I thought that being a cable it might be bad news, I opened it.”
He held it out to Latonia as he spoke and she took it, aware that her fingers were trembling.
Because he was watching her, she found it difficult for the moment to focus her eyes on what was written.
Then the words on the paper seemed to jump out at her.
“We were married this morning. Ivan’s father died last week.
Wildly happy. Love, T.”
Latonia gave a sigh of relief that seemed to come from the very depth of her body.
“It is not – bad news,” she stammered, “but very – good news.”
“I presume that you are informing me, having read it, that my niece is married,” Lord Branscombe said.
“Yes, she is married and, as this says, as her husband’s father is dead – she is – now the Duchess of Hampton.”
As she spoke, Latonia thought that if anything could mitigate Lord Branscombe’s anger, this should. Since Toni was now a Duchess, no Guardian, however difficult, could refuse to acknowledge that socially it was a brilliant match.
She felt that there was a look of triumph in her eyes as she went on,
“It would not matter to Toni whether Ivan was a Nobleman – or a nobody. She loves him for himself, as he loves her, and they will now, as they said before I left, live happily – ever after.”
“It sounds delightful,” Lord Branscombe said sarcastically. “And I presume when you took part in this diabolical plot to deceive me, it did not strike you that you were putting your own hand into a hornet’s nest?”
Latonia did not understand and, as she looked at him in a puzzled fashion, he said harshly,
“You cannot be so stupid as not to realise what damage you have done to your reputation by travelling alone with me, pretending to be my niece when you are in fact no relation.”
The way he spoke was so scathing that almost before she realised the full impact of what he was saying, Latonia felt the blood rising in her cheeks.
“I-I – will go – home at – once,” she said quickly, “and no one will – know.”
“Do you really believe that is possible?” Lord Branscombe asked. “The English papers will undoubtedly carry the announcement of my niece’s marriage, especially as it is to someone of such social consequence as a Duke. There will naturally be people in India as in England who are aware that I do not have two nieces.”
“I am of no significance whatsoever,” Latonia said. “My father and my mother, as you know, are dead, and except when Toni has been at The Castle, I have been living very quietly in the village with an old Governess to chaperone me.”
She pleaded with him to understand as she continued,
“Toni has taken my place while I have been away, but even if anyone knew I had been to India – it would not tell them very much. Why should they guess that – I have been with you?”
“I can only say,” Lord Branscombe replied, “that I am astounded at your foolishness. I thought that you were intelligent.”
It was as if he expected Latonia to speak and, when she did not do so, he went on,
“You did not meet anyone on the ship because I was determined that you should not do so, but you may be quite certain that a great number of passengers knew that we were there and know who you were supposed to be.”
Latonia made a little sound but he went on,
“Since we arrived you have met a large number of Officers, who undoubtedly will tell their wives they have been introduced to you and, since they have little else to do, they have probably speculated with the other women as to why you are travelling with me.”
Lord Branscombe’s voice seemed to sharpen with every word he spoke and to become more accusing, more derogatory.
Latonia felt herself trembling, but she found it impossible not to go on looking at him, her eyes held by his.
It was almost as if he had deliberately forced her to be his prisoner while he berated her for her behaviour.
His reaction was exactly as she had suspected it would be when she was discovered. It was something that she had known was inevitable, but now that it was upon her she felt every nerve in her body shrink from him.
There is – nothing I can – do except to – disappear,” she said in a very small voice. “Perhaps the people will – forget about me. Perhaps – you cou
ld say I was – dead, like –Papa and Mama.”
When she mentioned them there was a little sob in her voice that was impossible for Lord Branscombe to miss.
Then he said and she thought that his voice was less harsh,
“There is, of course, one obvious solution, and if it does not meet your approval then you have no one to blame but yourself.”
“What – is – that?” Latonia asked.
“The only possible way that I can save your reputation,” he replied, “is to marry you!”
For a moment Latonia thought that she could not have heard him correctly. She was sure she must be mistaken and then, as she drew in her breath, he added angrily,
“There is nothing else I can do and I can tell those who have already met you that we acted a part in order to conceal the fact that we were married indecently quickly after your parents’ death.”
His voice once again was sharply sarcastic as he went on,
“Doubtless you will be accused of being heartless and deceitful, but that is nothing to what would be said about you if the real truth came to light.”
“But as I have already – said, I am of no – importance,” Latonia said quickly, “so if I just – disappear it will not – really hurt me.”
“Can you really believe that?” Lord Branscombe asked. “My dear girl, you will be ostracised for life from every decent house in England and anywhere else in the world.”
He paused before he went on,
“One whisper, and there would undoubtedly be more than one, that you have travelled for some weeks alone with a man and then every respectable woman with whom you come into contact will sweep her skirts on one side as she passes you, in case she might be contaminated.”
“What they – thought would – not be true,” Latonia said childishly.
“You can hardly expect them to believe anything but the worst!” Lord Branscombe snapped. “And you must be aware that a woman who sins is never forgiven nor are her misdeeds ever forgotten.”
“I-I – was only trying to – help – Toni,” Latonia said. “She loves the – Marquis and his father wanted him to – marry a German Princess. She knew if she – went away with you, he might be – forced to do so.”
Punished with Love Page 10
