Touching the Stars Page 3

  By this time the little party had made its way up to the main deck.

  Justina clutched at Victoria s hand.

  She was not at all sure that she was going to enjoy spending so much time with the chaperone her aunt had chosen for her. She seemed the type of woman who spent most of the time talking and already Justina could feel her head beginning to spin.

  “Mrs. Arbuthnot,” began Lady Mansell as the group gathered beside the railings. “I should so like to meet your daughters properly.”

  Though twins, Faith and Charity were not identical. They were a little taller than their mother and both pretty. Faith was the more attractive with smooth blonde hair and cornflower blue eyes. Charity’s hair was not as golden as her sister’s and her eyes were so pale they were almost grey.

  “I hope we shall be friends,” Justina said firmly.

  “Delighted, I am sure,” Faith and Charity chorused in unison with simpering smiles.

  “We are so happy to welcome Justina into our little family for the voyage,” Mrs. Arbuthnot was saying to Lord and Lady Mansell.

  A crewman passed them blowing a whistle and called,

  “All ashore as is going ashore. All ashore as is going ashore.”

  Justina became aware that the boat was throbbing. The engines had started. She turned pale. How was she going to be able to part from her family?

  “We shall leave you to say your goodbyes,” proposed Mrs. Arbuthnot. Instantly Justina forgave her for talking too much.

  “Come, girls, we must see that Muffin has been properly kennelled. My little dog, she said to the Mansells. “You would not believe what a fuss there has been over bringing her on this ship. We must find someone to tell us where they have taken her.”

  Justina clung to her mother until the last moment.

  “Remember, my darling, we would so love you to find someone you would like to marry, someone as suitable as Edward,” she murmured, kissing Justina.

  Justina swallowed a sigh and standing by the railings of the ship, she watched her family hurry down the gangway, the last to leave the ship.

  Justina waved and waved until she could no longer see her family. Even when they were out of sight, she remained by the railings, looking back to where they had been standing.

  Gradually the calm of the harbour waters gave way to a gentle swell. There was a strong wind blowing, but ahead of the ship the cloudy skies parted and sun streamed through.

  Justina decided to return to her cabin.

  There Dorcas, looking much paler than when they first came on board, was unpacking the case marked ‘cabin’ that had been delivered before they arrived.

  As Justina entered, the maid took out an old woollen skirt and held it up in a disapproving way. Flinging it on the bed, she then removed a cambric shirt and a well-worn jacket.

  “Why, miss,” she said as Justina came in. “These must have got in by mistake.”

  Justina flushed guiltily and braced herself against the door as the ship started to move gently up and down.

  “No, Dorcas. I put those in. I know they aren't smart, – but I find them very comfortable and I thought it might be important to have some clothes it didn’t matter if the sea made wet.”

  “Well, miss, it isn’t my place to say as they aren’t right but they aren’t,” Dorcas commented firmly.

  She swallowed hard, hesitated and speaking more quickly, added,

  “They don’t suit your position, not as Lady Elder explained it to me.” She stuffed them back into the case. “If her Ladyship has told me once exactly what you should wear at every stage of the voyage, she’s told me a hundred times. That Steward, Mr. Chappell, he explained to me where the baggage ‘wanted on voyage’ is kept. They’re opening it this afternoon and I’ll go down and see what I can find – ”

  She stopped and put a hand to her mouth. The maid’s pallor had now acquired a greenish tinge.

  “Are you all right?” Justina asked anxiously.

  “Sorry, miss,” Dorcas gasped. Then, hand clamped to her mouth, she dashed out of the cabin.

  Justina wondered if she should go after her, but thought that if it had been her, the last thing she would want was for someone to see her being seasick.

  She looked out of the porthole.

  You could hardly call the sea rough, nor the movement of the boat more than gentle see-sawing. But perhaps some people were more susceptible to its motion than others.

  Justina wanted to see around the boat, but thought if she did so she might run into the Arbuthnots. There would be time enough to spend with them before they reached Bombay.

  Suddenly there was a bell ringing in the corridor and passengers were being called to a lifeboat station drill.

  Justina found herself gathered together with no one she knew. The Arbuthnots had obviously been allocated to a different lifeboat.

  Outside, someone clanged a gong to announce that luncheon was served.

  Justina realised that she was hungry. She picked up her hairbrush and tried to straighten out the tangle the sea breeze had made of her hair. As she reduced it to some sort of order, the Arbuthnots knocked on her door.

  “We thought we had better collect you,” said Mrs. Arbuthnot. “Dear Lady Elder said you knew very little of how life is ordered on board ship and we were to be sure to look after you.”

  The Arbuthnots had removed their hats and outer garments. All three were wearing prettily pin-tucked shirts and Mrs. Arbuthnot had a cameo brooch pinned to her high-necked collar. Faith and Charity had both arranged their hair so that it fell in graceful waves from little combs high up on their heads.

  Beside them, Justina felt a mess. Dorcas was going to have to work hard on her appearance for dinner that night.

  “Now, dear,” Mrs. Arbuthnot was saying as she led the way along the narrow corridor, putting out a hand to steady herself as the ship moved up and down.

  “I have spoken to one of the Dining Saloon Stewards. When I explained that Lord Mansell’s daughter was one of our party, he was very happy to arrange for us to have one of the small tables. So much more recherché than having to mix with anyone and everyone at the long table in the centre of the Saloon. We shall be so comfortable and can really get to know one another.”

  She smiled at Justina.

  “I am sure you will approve. Such a little, one might almost say, machination. Don’t you agree, girls?”

  “Mama, you always know how these things should be organised,” said Faith with a little sigh.

  “You know how we hate having to talk to just anyone,” added Charity.

  Justina, not knowing what to say, gave an uncertain smile.

  When they reached the light and airy Saloon, she understood what Mrs. Arbuthnot had meant. Down the centre ran a long table, already almost full with a variety of passengers. At the top of the Saloon was a large, oval table with only a few passengers seated round it.

  “The Captain’s table,” Faith breathed in her ear.

  Around that end of the Saloon were a number of small tables.

  “This is how we should dine,” gushed Mrs. Arbuthnot with a smile of satisfaction as they were shown to one set for four.

  An astonishingly comprehensive menu was produced, but Mrs. Arbuthnot waved away the wine list.

  I don’t think so, thank you. I am sure Lord Mansell would not approve of alcoholic refreshment for his daughter, would he, Justina? I may call you that, may I not?

  But before Justina could say anything, Mrs. Arbuthnot continued,

  “Now, girls, can we see anyone we know among the passengers?” Then she gave a little smirk, “or anyone we want to know?”

  Faith leaned gracefully towards Justina.

  “Mama is certain Charity and I will meet our fate before we dock at Bombay,” she whispered, her voice fading away at the end of her sentence.

  “Your fate?”

  “A suitable husband,” Charity joined in, sounding excited.

  “Amongst the passengers?”
/>
  It had not occurred to Justina that the voyage to India might introduce her to an eligible young man.

  Could this beautiful boat with its splendid decorations and spacious luxury provide the background to romance?

  She pushed the thought away.

  She did not want to have to think about suitable husbands until she reached India. But it sounded as though the Arbuthnot girls did.

  “Are there any young men who are – ” Justina hesitated, wondering how to phrase it. “Young men you could fall in love with?”

  Faith gave a tinkling laugh.

  “Fall in love with? Mama, isn’t Miss Mansell the sweetest thing?”

  Charity stared at her.

  “What a curious voice you have. I should not like to have such a deep one.”

  Justina flushed, but tried not to mind.

  “You speak as though I had some choice in the matter,” she retorted.

  Faith said in a soft voice,

  “So far I have not had much opportunity to find out details of our fellow passengers. But part of the fun of the voyage is finding out who is who.”

  Mrs. Arbuthnot suddenly gave a start.

  “Why,” she said, “surely that is Sir Thomas Watson?”

  Justina looked round.

  Coming into the Saloon and heading in their direction was a tall man of striking appearance. Fair hair was slicked back from a broad brow.

  He had the face of a Grecian statue and his eyes were a sparkling dark brown.

  Mrs. Arbuthnot gave a small wave.

  “Sir Thomas,” she called in a clear voice that carried above the clatter and chatter.

  He looked around, hesitated and then approached the Arbuthnot table.

  “Dear lady, what a pleasant surprise,” he said and bowed over her hand.

  “Dear Sir Thomas, I thought you had long since returned from London to Bombay. In the Colonel’s last letter he wrote that he hoped to meet you when he next had the opportunity of travelling down there.”

  “Still stationed on the Afghan border?”

  “Alas, yes. I don’t think you have met our daughters, Faith and Charity? They have just finished school in England.”

  “What an unexpected pleasure,” Sir Thomas said and there was something in is tone, a subtle suggestiveness, that made Faith and Charity simper in a way Justina already found infuriating.

  Sir Thomas bent over each of their hands in a manner she thought of as Continental.

  He straightened up and looked directly at Justina with a question in his eyes.

  “Is this another daughter?” he asked with a laugh.

  “Why I have just said that already she is almost one to me. This is Lord Mansell’s daughter, Justina, who is travelling to visit her brother in India. Her aunt, the dear Lady Elder, requested me specially to look after her.”

  “Lord Mansell? I am delighted to meet his daughter.”

  This time it was Justina’s hand he raised almost to his lips.

  She felt his breath warm the back of her hand and a very strange feeling flooded through her. It was the sort of excitement she felt when her horse went for a high fence.

  “Do you know my father?” Justina’s voice deepened even further as it always did whenever she was struck with strong emotion.

  “We belong to the same Club,” he answered and his eyes seemed to laugh at her, as if he found her voice amusing. “Are you going to India for the first time?”

  “My brother is a Subaltern, serving in the Central Provinces. I am going to visit him.”

  “What an exciting prospect for the Central Provinces as well as for you.”

  At the look in his eyes, Justina flushed. She was not used to admiration from men.

  “Are you looking forward to discovering India?”

  All the bustle of the Saloon faded away. Justina found she wanted to talk to this attractive man. She felt he would have interesting stories to tell her.

  “Yes – ” she started to say, but Mrs. Arbuthnot interrupted.

  “Sir Thomas. Will you not join us for dinner tonight? We should all love to hear of your plans for when you reach Bombay.”

  He gave a glance around the table that seemed to include all three girls.

  “Why, nothing would give me greater pleasure. Here was I thinking that, though this brand new ship is most beautiful, there was no one amongst the passengers to interest me. Four weeks of boredom, I thought. Then, lo and behold, in an instant, everything has changed. Now I can look forward to a most pleasurable time with three, no, four, most attractive females.”

  Mrs. Arbuthnot flushed with pleasure.

  “Until tonight, Sir Thomas.”

  He gave a bow and continued to his table.

  “Well, girls,” Mrs. Arbuthnot sighed with pleasure after he had left. “Now we know we are in for a most entertaining voyage. How kind of him to say that you, too, are attractive, Justina.”

  “Oh, Mama, you are not being fair,” piped up Faith. “Justina’s hair is a little wild, but her freckles couldn’t really be called disfiguring. It’s a pity her eyes aren’t blue, but they are quite large.”

  “Please do not talk about me as though I was not here,” Justina countered stiffly. Inside she was boiling with anger.

  “Oh, what does it matter what Justina looks like,” said Charity. “Tell us about Sir Thomas, Mama.”

  “Sir Thomas Watson, Baronet, my dears.” Mrs. Arbuthnot spoke in a breathy whisper. “Impeccable background, he can trace his family back to William the Conqueror, I believe, and a most successful business man.”

  She paused for a moment.

  “Doing what, Mama?” asked Faith expectantly.

  Justina was just as interested in Sir Thomas as the twins.

  He had made her feel attractive as no other man had ever done.

  “Oh, whatever his business is,” Mrs. Arbuthnot said vaguely. “Import – export, you know. His house in Bombay is one of the largest and his carriage is simply splendid.”

  “Is he married, Mama?” queried Faith.

  “Why, no! He is the most eligible bachelor in Bombay, if not the whole of India. And he is to dine with us tonight!”

  Faith and Charity looked just as excited as Justina felt.

  For once in her life she had met a man she actually looked forward to talking to. She was sure he could tell her all about India.

  She seldom met men who had seen her father in action.

  Could he have been in the House of Lords’ Gallery at the same time as herself and her mother? Justina had been there several times.

  It was always a pleasure to hear her father speak. Lord Mansell knew how to command the attention of his audience and put over clear and concise arguments.

  But Justina was sure if Sir Thomas had been in the Gallery at the same time, she would have noticed him.

  As soon as dessert was over, Mrs. Arbuthnot rose.

  “My dears, what a thing, we shall have to try and make the most of ourselves this evening, we owe it to Sir Thomas. We must rest this afternoon.”

  Justina went to see if her maid had brought order to her cabin. If she had not already managed to unpack some of her evening dresses, she must do so immediately.

  Dorcas was not in the cabin.

  A Steward gave Justina instructions for finding the Second Class accommodation.

  The maid was sharing a cabin with several other women. She, though, was the only one present. She lay on her berth, eyes closed, her face a pasty white.

  Worried, Justina asked if there was anything she could do to help. In a voice so faint it could only just be heard, Dorcas said that she wanted to die and please to leave her alone.

  Justina found the Stewardess for her cabin.

  “Oh, miss, she’s a one. Ship’s hardly moving at all and she’s like death warmed up and not so warm at that. Nothing to be done, I’m afraid, until she adapts to the motion. I’ll look after her, don’t you worry, but it’ll probably be days before she’s any great sh
akes. We’re in for a bit of a blow, is my understanding.”

  Justina resolved to make every effort not to disgrace her family that evening.

  She might not be as attractive as the Arbuthnot girls, but her grey satin dress, once part of her mother’s trousseau, had been refashioned with great style. What a pity, though, that Dorcas would not be available to do anything with her hair.

  *

  In his First Class cabin, Lord Castleton pushed away the pile of official papers he had been studying and stretched out his arms.

  Ever since the ship had sailed that morning, he had been working. Lunch had been a sandwich and a glass of beer at his desk.

  Now he was tired.

  He looked at his watch and wondered whether to order supper to be served in his cabin.

  Even as he considered this question, he seemed to hear a little voice at the back of his mind saying, ‘go to the Saloon, Marcus, it will do you good.’

  It was what Ariadne, his wife, would have said had she been here.

  Lord Castleton had been widowed for five years now. Ariadne had died giving birth to their still-born son.

  He had been devastated.

  They had been so close, quite often each could anticipate what the other would say. Now he had adjusted to his loss, but he still knew that Ariadne would have told him he had been stuck in the cabin for long enough.

  He quickly spruced himself up.

  In the Saloon he was greeted by the Head Steward.

  “Good evening, my Lord, I have arranged a table at the back for you.”

  “As always, Merton, you know my tastes.”

  “Of course, my Lord.”

  Passengers had only just started arriving for the evening meal.

  Lord Castleton thought there was a good chance he could eat and leave before the noise grew too loud.

  Settled at his table, he ordered one dish and a bottle of wine, then brought out some of the papers he needed to study before arriving in India.

  Concentrating hard, Lord Castleton was quite unaware of the Saloon gradually filling up with passengers.