She saddled Prince, talking to him softly, and led him out into the sharp air of pre-dawn and down the path that snaked away from the house through their overgrown garden. Once through the tangle of betel palms, bamboos, rattan and honeysuckle, she mounted, flung a thick, coarse blanket around her shoulders and set off down the track.
In the half-dark she could see the spiky rows of tea bushes cascading away down the steep slope. Columns of ghostly smoke rose from the first early fires of the villages hidden in the jungle below. Around her, the conical-shaped, densely wooded hills stood darkly against the lightening horizon. She continued through the forest of pines, sal and oaks, the night noises giving way to the scream of waking birds.
For almost an hour Clarrie rode until she reached the summit of her favourite hill, emerging out of the trees into a clearing just as dawn was breaking. Around her lay the toppled stones of an old temple, long reclaimed by jungle creepers. Beside it, under a sheltering tamarind tree, was the hut of a holy man built out of palm leaves and moss. The roof was overrun with jasmine and mimosa and he tended a beautiful garden of roses. A crystal-clear spring bubbled out of nearby rocks, filled a pool and then disappeared underground again. It was a magical place of pungent flowers with a heart-stopping view that stretched for miles. There was no smoke issuing from the swami’s hut so Clarrie assumed he was travelling.
She dismounted and led Prince to drink at the pool. Sitting on a tumbledown pillar carved with tigers she gazed at the spreading dawn. Far to the east, the high dark green hills of Upper Assam came rippling out of the dark. The mighty Brahmaputra River that cut its way through the fertile valley was hidden in rolls of fog. Beyond it, looking north, Clarrie watched the light catch the distant peaks of the Himalayas. They thrust out of the .mist, jagged and ethereal, their snow-capped slopes blushing crimson as the dawn awoke them.
Clarrie, wrapped in her blanket, sat motionless as if caught in a spell. Prince wandered off to graze as the sunlight gathered in strength and the remote mountains turned golden as temple roofs. At last, she sighed and stood up. This place always stilled her fractious thoughts. She left a pouch of tea and sugar at the swami’s door and remounted Prince. A soft noise made her turn. At the pool a graceful fallow deer stooped to drink. Clarrie was entranced that the animal had crept so close to them without showing fear.
A moment later, a deafening shot exploded from the surrounding trees. The deer’s head went up as if yanked on a harness. A second shot passed so close, Prince reared up in terror. Clarrie clutched frantically at the reins to calm him. A third shot hit the deer square on and its legs folded like collapsing cards.
Horrified at the brutality of the moment, Clarrie slackened her hold. Prince danced in crazy, petrified circles, slipping on wet leaves. The next instant she was tossed from the saddle, thumping on to damp ground. Her head hit a stone and her vision turned red. She was aware of men’s voices shouting and footsteps running towards her.
‘You madman!’ a deep voice thundered.
‘Just a ruddy native,’ another blustered. ‘I fired a warning shot.’
‘It’s a woman, for God’s sake!’
Clarrie wanted to carry on listening but their voices were fading. Who were they talking about? Before she could decide, she passed out.
* * *
Janet welcomes comments and feedback on her stories.
If you would like to do so, you can contact her through her website: www.janetmacleodtrotter.com
Contents
About the Author
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Some Anglo-Indian Terms
Another of the India Tea Series: The Tea Planter’s Daughter
Extract from The Tea Planter’s Daughter
Comments and Feedback
THE PLANTER'S BRIDE: A story of intrigue and passion: sequel to THE TEA PLANTER'S DAUGHTER (India Tea Series Book 2) Page 39
