Then it came to her that his main reason must have been her wealth. Vernon was in constant need of money to sustain his hedonistic lifestyle; Alice’s fortune was paying for his indulgences in Kabul.
The men returned from the Hindu Kush in October but there was little jubilation. Fantastical as it seemed, Dost Mohammed was rumoured to have rallied another army to his cause – mainly hardy Ghilzais – and was exhorting them to rid their country of the hated godless feringhis once and for all.
‘It’s not safe for Shah Shuja to move his court to Jalalabad this winter,’ said Sandy, confiding in Alice. Emily refused to listen to bad news so he often spilled out his worries to Alice. ‘But we’re having the devil of a job convincing him.’
Kabul was in open panic as word spread that Dost Mohammed was only forty miles from the city and that many of Shah Shuja’s soldiers were deserting to the deposed amir. Hasty plans were being laid to defend the citadel. Even Emily could not ignore the tension. The next time Alice visited, Emily anxiously asked her husband, ‘Will we have to move into the Balla Hissar?’
‘It won’t come to that,’ Sandy insisted. ‘It’s unsettling for everyone, I admit – and it makes us British look weak to have Dost Mohammed snapping at our heels just outside Kabul. But he’s no match for the British Army, my dear.’
‘Sandy’s right,’ Alice reassured Emily. ‘Sir Robert will fight back. Florentia has every confidence in her husband’s ability to keep us safe.’
Alice knew from Florentia that her husband was leading forays into Ghilzai country to keep them in check. But, soon afterwards, Alice’s optimism was dashed by the news that Captain Edward Connolly, who had brought the women safely to Afghanistan the previous year, had been killed in a skirmish with the Ghilzais. It pierced her emotional numbness.
‘He was such a nice man,’ Alice said tearfully, sitting with her embroidery untouched in her lap.
Vernon, who had told her the news, was irritated by her remark. ‘Why are you shedding tears over a man you barely knew? I’ve been in bloody battle yet you’ve not given me the time of day since I returned.’
He looked stronger than when he had left a month ago and some of his old bullishness had returned. Alice had to admit that campaigning suited Vernon, even though she could hardly bear to look at him.
‘The poor captain is dead,’ Alice said with feeling. ‘You have been lucky enough to come back unscathed.’ She cast aside her needlework and got up. ‘I’m going to see if Lotty has woken from her rest.’
He caught her arm as she tried to leave the room. ‘I expected my wife to be more pleased to see me,’ he said, his eyes narrowing. ‘Forget Connolly; I’m the man you should be thinking about.’
‘I do,’ said Alice, disgust curdling inside.
‘Then show it, woman,’ he demanded. He pinned her by the arms and kissed her roundly on the mouth. It appalled her that his appetite for sex with her was returning. So far the excuse of her monthly bleed had kept him from touching her in bed. But any day now she knew Vernon would renew his demands.
Alice pulled away in revulsion. He must have seen it in her eyes because he held on and grasped a handful of her hair, tugging it hard so that she had to look into his face.
‘I thought you liked my kisses,’ he hissed. ‘You used to hunger for them.’
Alice’s jaw clenched. ‘That was before I knew you didn’t love me,’ she said. ‘Before I knew how little you thought of your own wife and daughter.’
‘What do you mean by that?’ he demanded.
Something inside Alice snapped. She would put up with his betrayal no longer.
‘I mean that I know about your mistress in Kabul,’ Alice accused him. ‘That girl you have lain with longer than you ever have with me.’
His mouth opened wide in surprise.
‘Don’t deny it.’ Alice looked at him in defiance. ‘I’ve met her.’
‘That’s impossible,’ he gasped.
‘Not impossible,’ she said, trying to push him off. ‘I’ve been to your house in Kabul. So I know about her – and I’ve seen your bastard son!’
His astonishment turned to fury. He loosened his grip on her hair and slapped the side of her head. Alice was momentarily stunned. Vernon was shouting at her but her ears were ringing so she could not hear what. He looked livid. She put out her hand to steady herself on the back of a chair. Her hearing cleared though her ear throbbed in pain.
‘ . . . wouldn’t have had to if you had given me a son like a dutiful wife.’
‘Don’t make that an excuse,’ Alice replied, clutching a hand to her pulsing head. ‘You’ve been living with that girl since you came here. You allowed me and Lotty to come—’
‘I never encouraged you to come,’ Vernon said dismissively. ‘You’re nothing but an encumbrance to me here. None of you women and children should have come – you put the army at risk. Now we’re surrounded by the enemy. How are we supposed to defend this bloody cantonment? We’re like sitting ducks. If MacNaughten hadn’t encouraged his ridiculous wife to come here, we men would all be safe in the Balla Hissar, doing what soldiers have to do to get through war.’
She looked at him in contempt. ‘Don’t blame this situation on us women,’ Alice said, ‘and don’t make the excuse that cheating on your wife is normal army behaviour. Good men like Sandy Ayton don’t betray their wives like you do.’
‘He doesn’t have to,’ Vernon sneered. ‘He has a biddable wife who will do anything he asks. I remember the days when you would do anything I asked of you in the bedchamber.’
Alice felt nauseated. ‘Not anymore,’ she said.
‘We’ll see,’ he said, his tone threatening.
‘Go to your Afghan mistress,’ said Alice with a defiant look. ‘You’re not welcome in my bed.’
She thought he was about to strike her again but abruptly he marched to the door. ‘I will come to your bed when it suits me,’ he said. ‘In the meantime I’ll sleep with a woman who takes pleasure in it – and satisfies my needs more than you ever will.’
Vernon stalked out, slamming the door and leaving Alice shaking with fear and relief.
Alice did not see Vernon again for days. He came home briefly to order his servants to prepare his kit for another march against Dost Mohammed. This time the British forces, commanded by Sale, were going to meet him head-on in the Parwan Valley to the north of Kabul before he could reach the city. It was early November and the first sprinkling of snow was appearing on the surrounding hills.
Alice spent tense days with Emily, the two mothers trying to keep their children entertained while confined indoors. Sandy wouldn’t let them wander outside in case they were tempted to watch from the walls and were picked off by Ghilzai snipers. Alice was reminded of Vernon’s words of accusation that the women being there made it unsafe for the men. Perhaps he was right and they should never have come. Was she not putting her own daughter at risk unnecessarily?
Grim news began to filter back to the cantonment that the British cavalry had been cut to pieces by Dost Mohammed’s troops. The rebel Afghan leader had raised his blue standard and removed his turban as a challenge to the foreigners, before exhorting his men to chase the infidels from their soil.
Florentia and Dinah waited anxiously for news of their menfolk.
‘You must be so worried about Captain Buckley too,’ said Dinah.
Alice gave a short nod and turned away before her face betrayed her true feelings.
Then, suddenly, the gloom and dread were reversed. The troops began to return with astonishing news that Dost Mohammed, having had the upper hand, had stopped short of the British guns, flaunted his banner and then retreated. Amid the rejoicing was anxiety: several officers had been killed. Sale had sustained a sword wound to the face.
A message came for Alice.
‘I’m afraid it’s bad,’ said Sandy, who had taken it upon himself to break the news.
Alice’s heart began to pound and her throat dried. ‘Is Vernon dead?�
�� she whispered.
‘No, not that, I’m glad to say. Sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you unduly,’ said Sandy, ‘but he’s badly injured. Sword wounds to the leg and arm. They’re bringing him in from camp to the cantonment hospital. I’ll arrange for you to see him as soon as possible.’
‘Thank you,’ Alice managed to say, her stomach twisting with both relief and regret.
She waited tensely to be allowed to see her husband but he was being operated on and in a critical condition. The following evening she was permitted a few minutes with Vernon.
‘He’s well dosed with laudanum,’ the army doctor warned. ‘Probably won’t know who you are but it might do his morale good.’
She found him lying on a canvas hospital bed, one arm heavily bandaged, his face waxy and eyes feverish. He looked so vulnerable that Alice felt a pang of pity followed swiftly by guilt. She had prayed that he wouldn’t come back and that she’d never have to see him again. What sort of person was she to wish such harm on anyone – even a man who had wronged her as Vernon had? She sat by the bed and took his hand; it was cold and limp. A man in the next door bed was moaning in pain but Vernon was silent.
‘You’ll be all right,’ she soothed. ‘You’ll get better. They’ll let you home soon and I’ll help nurse you, I promise.’
He looked at her with confusion in his blue eyes. After a few minutes the doctor returned and nodded for her to leave. As she stood up, Vernon clutched weakly at her hand. He tried to say something. She leant closer.
‘Please,’ he whispered, ‘don’t let me die. I don’t want to die.’
Her stomach tensed. ‘You’re not going to die.’ She squeezed his hand. ‘Lotty needs her father.’ She forced a smile.
‘Lotty?’ he frowned.
‘Your daughter.’
‘Oh, yes.’ He sighed and closed his eyes.
She left him with a heavy heart. Alice felt weighed down by the responsibility of being Vernon’s wife. She did not love him – in recent times she had hated him with a passion – but they were bound together by Lotty. She would do everything she could to protect her daughter and try to make Vernon see what a joy the little girl could be to him.
Unsettled by her trip to the hospital, Alice went for a walk through the cantonment as evening descended. She climbed the steps of the wall that surrounded the envoy’s compound and gazed across at Kabul. Lights were being lit and glowed in the descending dark like fireflies. The sun was setting in a glory of orange and pink in the western hills. It was so still that she could hear the bleating of sheep from a village over a mile away. How could this tranquil place be so near to where a bloody battle had raged two days ago?
Alice looked again at the distant city. Was Vernon’s lover waiting anxiously for news of him? Who would come and tell her that he had survived the battle but was injured? She wondered for a moment if she should try to get word to the girl and then gave a sigh of impatience. She had not caused this intolerable situation; Vernon had. When he pulled through – if he pulled through – he would have to sort out the mess himself.
She was about to turn back and descend to the compound when she heard the sound of hoof beats across the plain, in the direction of where the battle had been. A small group of riders was approaching at a trot. Soon Alice could make out MacNaughten and Sandy; she knew from Emily that they had been out visiting the men returning from the battle who were still encamped a few miles off.
With them were a couple of Afghans, heads swathed in white turbans that glowed against their dark faces in the setting sun. They rode without saddles and looked dusty from travel. She stood and watched them as they neared the gateway below. Sandy called out for the sentries to let them in. Alice was intrigued. Perhaps these were envoys from one of the warring chiefs come to bid for peace. They carried weapons so did not appear to be hostages.
She watched until they were inside the compound and syces came running to take their horses. The Afghans were hurried into MacNaughten’s house. Alice returned home, determined to find out from Sandy who the mysterious visitors were.
By the following day, the shock news had spread all over the cantonment.
‘You’ll never know who’s turned up bold as brass?’ Emily cried when Alice appeared at her door. She pulled Alice inside. ‘Dost Mohammed himself!’
‘What?’ gasped Alice.
‘Last night,’ Emily said, hardly able to speak she was so excited. ‘Gave himself up. Sent his henchman to talk to MacNaughten. Then put his life in their hands. Sandy just brought them back as if they’d all been out riding together.’
‘I saw them,’ Alice blurted out.
‘Did you?’ Emily was round-eyed.
‘I thought it was some messenger on behalf of a chief.’ Alice shook her head in disbelief. ‘But I must have seen the infamous amir. He took a great risk coming here with only one guard. They might have shot them on the spot.’
‘They should have done,’ said Emily, ‘after all the trouble he’s caused us.’
‘What will they do with him?’
‘Sandy says MacNaughten’s quite taken with him. They’re supposed to be discussing the terms of his surrender but the envoy is spending hours chatting with the man in Persian. Goodness knows what about.’
Over the next couple of days, the officers of the cantonment queued up to be allowed in to visit the deposed amir. Word of his intelligent conversation and courtly manners had spread quickly and everyone wanted to be able to say that they had sat on the floor with him, drinking tea and talking.
Sandy reported daily. ‘He is concerned for the safety of his large family. The only thing he fears is that they might all be taken to London as prisoners. It’s their biggest worry; Afghans hate the idea of exile but to be sent over the seas to the land of the feringhis is the ultimate humiliation for a devout Mohammedan.’
‘Is that likely?’ asked Alice.
‘Not if MacNaughten can help it. He’s recommending to Auckland that Dost Mohammed and his family stay in India. He’s suggesting that the amir is given a farm in Mussoorie in the foothills so that he can be kept occupied.’
‘The ex-amir,’ Emily reminded her husband. ‘I don’t understand why MacNaughten is being so kind to him.’
‘Well,’ said Sandy, ‘he’s really rather an impressive man. I think we were all too quick to believe the worst of him and put our faith in Shah Shuja. It would appear Dost Mohammed was the far more able ruler.’
‘Burnes and John Sinclair tried to convince Auckland of that,’ Alice reminded him. ‘If only they had been listened to.’
Sandy gave her an awkward glance. ‘Well, some on Auckland’s staff were all too eager to go to war.’
‘Like Vernon, you mean?’ Alice said, tensing.
‘Well, what’s done is done,’ said Emily, ‘and we just have to make the best of things here. I do hope Vernon is improving?’
‘A little bit better today, thank you,’ Alice said.
‘Funny you should mention Sinclair,’ said Sandy.
‘Why?’ Alice felt the heat rise in her neck as it always did when John was mentioned.
‘Well, he was the man who captured Dost Mohammed.’
Alice and Emily gaped at him.
‘Why ever didn’t you say so before?’ asked Emily.
‘The negotiations were delicate and Sinclair wanted no glory for doing so,’ said Sandy. ‘Captured might be too strong a word, but Sinclair was the man who brought him in. Rode up to us at sunset and said he would hand over the amir if we promised not to harm him.’
‘Goodness!’ cried Emily. ‘Whose side is he on?’
‘Ours, of course,’ said Sandy. ‘He managed to bring in our arch enemy without any further bloodshed. Now the amir is sitting meek as a lamb answering questions on his country and his faith as if he was giving a lecture at the Asiatic Society. That’s largely thanks to Sinclair.’
Alice’s heart began a painful thudding. ‘So Lieutenant Sinclair was the other Afghan who rode in tha
t evening?’
Sandy nodded. ‘He certainly looks the part. I wouldn’t have known him if he hadn’t called out in greeting.’
‘Is he still here?’ Alice asked.
‘Yes, he’s staying with the MacNaughtens while they have the amir as their prisoner.’
‘Sounds more like their guest than prisoner,’ said Emily in disapproval.
‘You should be thankful, my dear,’ Sandy chided. ‘The country is finally at peace. Word is already out that the Barukzai leader is in our hands and the hostile chiefs are now pledging allegiance to Shah Shuja. MacNaughten’s even going to allow the amir to winter in Jalalabad as he wished. Everything has changed now Dost Mohammed has accepted defeat.’
Alice could settle to nothing, knowing that John was a stone’s throw away from her house in the envoy’s compound. She took Lotty for walks in the sharp November air in the hopes of coming across him. But there was never any sign of him. The compulsion to see John grew stronger with each day. She thought of the turbaned and bearded rider who had accompanied the captive amir a few evenings ago. If only she had known it was John she would have paid more attention. Did he know she was in the cantonment? Or that she was married to Vernon?
The thought gave her pain. How he would despise her for that. Or perhaps he wouldn’t care. He had made his own life here in Afghanistan and most likely never gave her a thought.
She heard from the Aytons how plans were progressing swiftly for taking Dost Mohammed out of the country. His family were already on their way to Peshawar and exile. Now that the threat of Shah Shuja being toppled was over, General Cotton was withdrawing further troops from Kabul and accompanying the prisoner south. Sale was to be left in charge until the new commander took over.
‘Rumour has it that General Nott in Kandahar expects to get the top military post,’ Sandy told them. ‘Not sure that’s a good idea – he’s argumentative and well known for having a low opinion of Afghans.’
Sandy was to accompany MacNaughten to the court’s winter quarters in Jalalabad so Emily had decided to go too.
In the Far Pashmina Mountains Page 34
