‘Did I?’ Dallas spoke coolly, despite an overwhelming desire to pick up the poker and bring it down on Wilcox’s sweaty head.
‘Indeed you did, sir.’
Dallas was suddenly tired of the charade. ‘Get out. Take your conniving daughter and leave us be.’
‘And the money?’
‘What price would you pay for my continued silence about the real father of Sarah’s child?’
‘You wouldn’t dare.’
‘Push me too far, Wilcox, and I’ll dare.’
‘Then I would be obliged to contact the police about you.’
‘Stalemate,’ Dallas said softly.
‘No, sir, you have more to lose than I.’
‘Do I?’ Dallas locked eyes with his father-in-law’s.
The older man’s eyes slid away. ‘You will hear from me again, Granger. I will not permit you to treat Sarah in such a scurrilous manner. You will pay or, by God, the hangman’s rope will be your last sight on this earth.’
Dallas turned his back and stared through the window into the dark beyond. ‘Go to hell,’ he said quietly. ‘The sight of you sickens me.’
Wilcox was set to argue then nodded abruptly at the forbidding back. ‘I bid you goodnight, sir.’ He turned and left the room.
Fuming, Dallas remained in the study until he heard Sarah and her father leave. Would Wilcox carry through his threat? All the fine words about his daughter’s reputation meant nothing to the man. Greed was what motivated him. Interesting, though, that when Dallas threatened him back, Wilcox lost confidence, resorting to bluff rather than demands. In a decidedly sour frame of mind, Dallas returned to the parlour.
Boyd’s shocked reaction to the discovery that Dallas was married, not to Lorna as he’d supposed, but to another, was ill-timed and unwelcome. Dallas had no patience for it.
‘Oh, do shut up,’ he snapped. ‘I’m not the slightest bit interested in your ridiculous posturing.’
Boyd blithely carried on. ‘That poor, wee girl. Shame on both of you. It would seem that Africa has turned you against all that is decent.’
‘If you don’t mind,’ Dallas ground out, ‘there are some things Lorna and I need to discuss.’ When Boyd made no move to leave, he added, ‘In private.’
‘Don’t worry about me.’ Boyd sat down and crossed his legs. ‘As an older brother it is my beholden duty –’
‘To realise when your presence is not welcome.’ Dallas rubbed a hand over his eyes and relented. ‘For God’s sake, Boyd, you don’t know the half of it. That little vixen lied and forced me to marry her. Her father blackmailed me to remain her husband. There is no love lost between any of us. I would marry Lorna in the wink of an eye were I free to do so. Your advice may be well meant but it is ill-advised.’
‘Even so,’ Boyd said stiffly, not hiding his hurt, ‘you place the Marchioness of Dumfries in a most untenable position. I urge you both to remain apart until there is no impediment to your becoming husband and wife.’
Dallas’s and Lorna’s eyes met. In hers he saw a big, bad temper brewing. She was about to blow and Dallas didn’t blame her.
Dallas intervened, although he didn’t feel much calmer than Lorna.
‘Since you seem impervious to suggestions that we’d like some privacy you leave me no alternative. Please go. I have been away for almost two months and wish to spend time with my family. As you seem incapable of anything other than criticism, that does not include you.’
Boyd turned to Lorna. It was a big mistake. ‘Dear, gentle lady, can you not see the sense in what I’m saying?’
She faced him, fists clenched by her sides. ‘I’ll tell you what I see,’ she cut back. ‘Someone I once thought I knew and liked. My mistake. You are the most arrogant and boring bloody man I have ever had the misfortune of meeting. How dare you suggest that Dallas and I live apart? We have children, or have you forgotten them? Keep your opinions to yourself, Boyd. I, for one, don’t wish to hear them.’
Mouth open, Boyd could only stammer, ‘But, my lady.’
Dallas intervened before Lorna really blew her top. He pointed a finger at her. ‘This is Lorna de Iongh, you idiot. Remember? You’ve only known her since she was born. Do stop all this nonsense. It has no place in our home.’
‘Well, really.’ Boyd stood and patted down his tunic. ‘I can see there’s no point in appealing to your morals, or anything else decent, for that matter. I’ll bid you both goodnight.’
Rolling his eyes in relief, Dallas walked his older brother to the door. But Boyd had one more thing on his mind and, true to form, was determined to mention it. ‘Will you be joining the final push on Ulundi?’
‘No.’
‘Why not?’
‘I’ve done my bit.’
‘But surely,’ Boyd protested, ‘you have a duty?’
Dallas ignored that. ‘Chelmsford has more than enough men. Ulundi will be easy. In their own minds, the Zulus are already defeated. Nothing can save them now.’
‘You sound as though you actually like them.’ Boyd was ready for his soapbox again. ‘They’re the enemy, dear boy.’
‘Not to me. They’ve shown me nothing but kindness, friendship and generosity. The Zulus are my friends. I have no wish to fight them.’
‘Friends!’ Boyd was astonished. ‘They’re savages, the whole lot. You’ve only got to look at them.’
‘Oh, you’ll be doing plenty of that, believe me. I hope your eyes are wide enough. When you see the impi stretched ten miles or more across the plain and hear twenty thousand voices shouting uSuthu, you may well think of them as savage. Look again. See the discipline as they flow into battle formation. Then, as your hair stands on end and a chill runs up your spine, you might just realise there’s intelligence and experience in what you’re seeing, so you’d better do something pretty damned quick or you’ll be surrounded. See then if you still think they’re savages. They are brave and determined adversaries, standing against us with little more than shield and assegai, knowing they’re no match for soldiers’ guns. God help you if they get close enough to use them. As you’re fighting for your life you might actually realise that the Zulu is superior to you. It could well be the last thought you’ll ever have, but if you survive and are forced down from that ivory tower, it might make you see sense. Then again, since you are so certain that right is on your side and the Zulus little more than animals, it might not.’
Boyd listened to the tirade with a slightly mocking expression on his face. He was hearing the words though their meaning was too far removed from everything he’d been told by others for him to grasp it. When Dallas paused, Boyd merely asked, ‘What’s got into you, old boy?’
‘You,’ Dallas said bluntly. ‘You and your damned arrogance, your stupid airs and graces, your biased opinions. Damn it, man, you’ve only just set foot in this place. What gives you the right to judge anybody? The Zulus or me. Get out there and take the blinkers off.’
That got through but the sardonic look remained. ‘You’ve changed.’
‘Yes,’ Dallas agreed. ‘I’ve found reality, and I’m happy to say, Lorna has too.’
‘People are talking about you.’
‘So what? Let them.’
Boyd picked up his cape, hat and cane from the hallstand. ‘Why couldn’t you stay with your wife? She struck me as being rather a nice little thing. Sort of filly I’d look for.’
‘Help yourself,’ Dallas said crudely, opening the front door. ‘Oh, one more thing,’ he added. ‘If you do take up with Sarah, a point to bear in mind. She also likes Zulus.’ With that, he bid his brother goodnight.
Lorna had heard his raised voice and come to investigate. When he turned towards her with a large and satisfied smile on his face, she had to ask why.
‘Because,’ he said, wrapping her in a bear hug, ‘I’m a mean old thing.’
‘You are not,’ she protested loyally. ‘Just a little excitable, perhaps.’ She pulled back and looked at him. ‘What did Sarah and her father
want?’
Dallas filled her in. ‘It would seem that the scandal of a divorce is of little concern compared with the whiff of money.’
‘I have plenty –’
‘No.’
She tilted her head and stared at him. ‘You have a mulish look on your face.’
‘So do you.’
‘You’re not going to pay him, admit it.’
‘Not if I can help it.’
‘Can we talk about it at least?’
He kissed her nose. ‘Of course.’
‘Dammit, Dallas,’ Lorna burst out, stamping her foot. ‘Stop being so bloody reasonable. If I can help, then why –’
A sudden shriek sounded from the kitchen, followed by a crash and the sound of Kate crying. ‘Welcome home, my darling.’ Lorna extricated herself from his arms. ‘We can discuss this later. I’m going up to check on Duncan. You can deal with this.’
‘You’re too kind.’ Dallas leaned forward and kissed her nose again.
She grinned at him. ‘Will Sarah really divorce you if you pay?’
‘So Wilcox says, and he appears to have control over her life.’ Whatever was happening in the kitchen grew in volume until Dallas could no longer ignore it.
‘Will we get married?’
‘I’m supposed to ask.’
‘So ask.’
‘Will you marry me?’
‘Damned right.’ She turned and ran lightly up the stairs leaving him smiling like a fool.
‘Master.’ Percy appeared. He had undergone some kind of transformation. The Zulu was stark white from head to toe.
On closer inspection, Dallas discovered the reason. Flour. ‘What happened?’
Percy told him in one word. ‘Torben.’
Sighing, Dallas headed for the kitchen. Life was back to normal. In spite of Boyd’s unwanted intrusion and that blackmailing son of a whore, Wilcox, Dallas couldn’t have been happier.
SIXTEEN
Over the next few months Lorna and Dallas were in a kind of limbo. They were stuck in Durban until the war was over. It seemed to them that Lord Chelmsford was in no particular hurry to end the conflict.
This was not strictly true, however. Chelmsford himself commanded the relief of Colonel Pearson’s right-hand column, which had been virtually imprisoned in the Eshowe mission for three months. It was why he ordered Colonel Evelyn Wood to create a diversion at Hlobane. Five days after Kambula Hill, Chelmsford was successful, his Gatling guns, rockets and rifles defeating some twelve thousand impi. In truth, the heart had already been torn from Cetshwayo’s army. The battle lasted only twenty minutes and left a thousand of them dead and dying.
In Durban, John Dunn, who had personally scouted the Zulus’ position and strength, told Dallas of the confrontation.
‘Cetshwayo still forbids his impi to attack at night. They moved in at dawn under cover of a thick mist. As soon as it cleared, every man he had came at us.’ Dunn gave a sardonic chuckle. ‘Some of our boys had never seen action, let alone a bloody Zulu warrior. It was quite a sight, but the old spirit was lacking. They didn’t get close enough to use assegais.’
‘Poor bastards,’ Dallas said quietly.
‘Yeah.’ Dunn sighed deeply, then gave vent to his frustration. ‘I want this thing to stop. It’s nothing short of murder. Why prolong the inevitable? Britain is being bloody criminal. I’m telling you, man, it may sound sentimental but this so-called war is a farce. Cetshwayo has tried to call it off. His impi are starting to refuse to stand against our weapons. Why doesn’t Chelmsford take Ulundi and be done with it?’
‘You could get out of it. Why stay?’
Dunn rubbed a hand over his face. ‘There are reasons. I can’t talk about them.’
Dallas could see that his friend was a man in deep emotional pain. Dallas himself had found it hard enough fighting a people he had come to respect. It would be so much more difficult for John.
It was another three months before Lord Chelmsford was ready to attack the capital. The delay was supposedly so that reinforcements had time to acclimatise. More importantly, though, horses accompanying the newly arrived troops were in poor condition after being confined on board ship for so long. They needed time to rebuild their strength.
Life, in the interim, drifted slowly for Dallas and Lorna. Rumours reaching them indicated that, once Ulundi had fallen, Zululand would be segmented into smaller kingdoms or chieftainships, completely fragmenting the fragile bonds ruled over by Cetshwayo.
Boyd, who had anticipated action would occur much more quickly, remained in Durban and continued his moral crusade over his brother’s living arrangements. (Mercifully, he was increasingly required at the garrison.) Time didn’t help to change his attitude about the Zulus, either. Without understanding anything beyond a master and servant relationship, Boyd had formed judgment and condemned them as primitive, lazy and untrustworthy. Dallas and Lorna continued to find his company tedious in the extreme, only tolerating it because of family obligations.
The news of the sudden and unexpected death of Lorna’s mother from tuberculosis did at least serve to cancel the warrant that still existed for Dallas’s arrest. Lady Pamela wrote that Lord de Iongh had lost more than his wife. The man appeared to have given up interest in everything. After withdrawing an accusation he had always known to be false, he had retired completely from public life. Dallas was free to return to Scotland.
Lorna was not badly affected by the news, as she hadn’t been close to either of her parents. Of more significance was the fact that Dallas’s name had been cleared. ‘Now at least we can go back for a holiday,’ was all she said.
Dallas had become so used to the fact that disgrace hung over his head he found it impossible to believe he was no longer a wanted man until a letter arrived from Lord Diamond, the British diplomat who had travelled to Africa aboard the Marie Clare with Dallas. In it was confirmation of everything Lady Pamela had written. Dallas was a free man.
Although the news was welcome, it was the freedom to marry Lorna that Dallas craved. He sent a brief note to the diplomat thanking him for taking the trouble to let him know. Lord Diamond responded with an offer of a position within the Cape Town administration. Dallas declined.
John Dunn, whenever he was in town, stayed at the Berea house. The young trader, Stephen Holgate, who Dallas had met in Colenso and talked of trading in the Thukela Valley, was another regular visitor.
The Zulu war had attracted world attention, drawing more adventurers to Africa than ever. Among them was Cecily Jerome, an American socialite. Lorna finally had a kindred spirit with whom she could discuss all the womanly things Dallas found trivial. Cecily was a breath of fresh air. Her first cousin, Jennie, had married Lord Randolph Churchill and produced one son – Winston. Lorna realised she’d met someone as plain-spoken as herself when Cecily blandly stated, ‘The damned man is a political, social and intellectual bore. He hates women. Poor Jennie has a terrible life. And as for their son, God knows how he’ll turn out – the boy spends all his time alone, playing with toy soldiers.’
Cecily had come to Africa with zoological and anthropological aspirations, having had the great misfortune of being born with a scientific mind. In her words, ‘I can read and write, thanks to a governess. My needlework is exquisite. Endless tedious hours each week with the dreary and impoverished Miss O’Neill from Dublin saw to that. God I hated that woman. I play the pianoforte with daintiness and verve. Now there’s a contradiction in terms.’
Lorna found her honest and amusing. ‘Who told you that?’
‘My tutor.’ Cecily smiled wickedly. ‘A gentle, dreamy young man of some rather aberrational sexual theories and very little talent. He taught music as if he was afraid of it.’ Cecily made a moue. ‘I begged to be taught Latin and Greek, pleaded with Father to find someone who could tutor me in physiology. All to no avail. Nice young ladies must never sully their minds with such masculine specialities. Heaven forbid that the male of our species feels intellectually inferior. It
simply isn’t done, my dear.’
Despite the lightness of her words, Lorna sensed an anger in Cecily. ‘You must have had some tutoring?’
‘Books,’ Cecily said. ‘I taught myself. That is why I’m never taken seriously.’ She gave Lorna a wry grin. ‘Bloody men and their egos.’
One such bloody man and his ego fell foul of Cecily’s keen intelligence within seconds of meeting her. Boyd expressed patronising concern that she intended travelling to the rugged west coast with nothing but Africans for company. ‘My dear lady,’ he protested. ‘Forget such foolishness.’
‘Foolishness?’ Cecily repeated, a steely glint in her eye.
Lorna and Dallas sat back and unashamedly enjoyed what amounted to a thorough shredding of Boyd’s masculine prejudices. Cecily did such a good job that Boyd developed a sudden headache and begged off lunch, leaving the others relieved and unrepentant.
Dallas also liked Cecily. Not only had her company been good for Lorna, whenever she was around, the conversation was lively and stimulating. One day someone asked why she habitually wore a revolver tucked into her wide belt.
‘I should have thought it obvious,’ she replied coolly. ‘One hopes not to need it but one is aware that if one does, one needs it bloody fast.’
It was a sad day indeed when Cecily, dressed on Lorna’s recommendation in trousers, set off on her travels. They heard, via the gossip grapevine, that on crossing the falls at Howick, she encountered Stephen Holgate heading for Durban with ivory. Cecily and Stephen had heard of each other from Lorna and Dallas but, so far, had not met. So taken was the trader with the American woman that he entrusted the load of ivory to his gun bearer and joined her. Scandalised ladies of quality and vaguely envious gentlemen of excellent breeding eagerly repeated snippets of rumour that filtered back to Durban. Cecily and Stephen behaved, ‘for all the world as though they were wed’.
Lorna and Dallas were delighted.
Boyd left Durban for Zululand in the middle of May 1879, his being the only squadron of the 1st King’s Dragoon Guards to join Lord Chelmsford. The rest of his regiment, under the command of Major-General Hugh Clifford, was responsible for administration and keeping the communication lines open between Durban and the Zululand border.
Shadows in the Grass Page 52
