Punished with Love Read online

  As she went to her own cabin, she had the satisfaction of thinking that she was surprising Lord Branscombe in accepting his punishment in a way that he had not expected.

  ‘I hate him for the way he is determined to be so unkind to Toni,’ she told herself.

  At the same time he was obviously as clever as she had always heard he was and she was determined to pick his brains in one way or the other!

  She smiled as she thought how amused Toni would be if she knew what was happening.

  She told herself that she would start this very evening to write a long letter to her cousin, which she would post at their first Port of call.

  At least what was happening was exciting. It was certainly very different from the kind of life she had had ever since she had been in mourning for her father and mother and Toni had gone to London.

  Then nothing had happened from day to day. So, to Latonia, although Lord Branscombe was not aware of it, everything, even being confined to her cabin, was an adventure.

  ‘I will really try hard with my Urdu, if only because it will annoy him,’ Latonia thought. ‘He is so determined to prove me, or rather Toni, to be a halfwit and it will be a real score if I can make him eat his words!’

  Then it struck her that perhaps the reason he was so disagreeable and upset by Toni was that he was a woman-hater.

  This was a new idea and, as Latonia sat thinking it over, she told herself that perhaps the reason he was so incensed about Andrew Luddington was that he himself had been thrown over by some attractive girl and it had made him suspicious and cynical where all women were concerned.

  With his handsome looks and his distinguished career, there must have been a great number of women in his life, in one way or another.

  Latonia could not remember her father or her mother or anyone at The Castle speaking of Kenrick Combe in a romantic fashion.

  They had always talked of his achievements in the Regiment, the distinctions that were poured upon him and the complimentary letters that Lord Branscombe had received about his brother.

  ‘Perhaps he has never loved anyone,’ Latonia thought.

  But she was sure that there had been women who had loved him.

  ‘What is his secret?’ she wondered and felt certain that there was one.

  This was something else which could occupy her imagination and she thought with a lift of her heart that because there was a mystery about Lord Branscombe, he did not seem quite so awe-inspiring and frightening as he had done previously.

  Chapter Four

  Latonia tossed and turned on her bed and found it impossible to sleep once they had passed through the Suez Canal and into the Red Sea.

  It had become almost unbearably hot and she found herself longing all through the day to be up on deck and hoping that there would be a cool breeze blowing under the awning.

  But Lord Branscombe had set a pattern for their days from which she thought that even a typhoon would be unable to dislodge him.

  They walked round at seven o’clock in the morning, before breakfast, keeping to the top deck where it was less likely that there would be other passengers.

  The people they did see were either not attractive or, Latonia thought, not interested in them. But she felt all the time that in his self-appointed rule as jailor Lord Branscombe watched her, expecting her to do something outrageous, although she had no idea what it could be.

  After breakfast he usually spent two hours teaching her Urdu. He was extremely punctilious about it and at the same time impersonal in a way that she found hard to describe even to herself.

  She was quite sure that there must be someone on board capable of teaching a pupil who was only at the primary stage of learning a language, but Lord Branscombe, having once said that he would be her teacher, was determined not to delegate his authority.

  What Latonia found very disconcerting was that she was quite sure he found it an unpleasant, boring task because he disliked her so much.

  As she had never been with anyone in her life who had an aversion for her, she found it hard, day after day, not to break down and ask him to be a little kinder and a little more human.

  But she knew that not only would he refuse any request that she might make but he would think he had achieved his object if she admitted to any weakness.

  He was punishing her, that was obvious, and for a punishment to be effective the offender must become humble and repentant. But that, Latonia told herself with pride, was something which she had no intention of being.

  She was quite certain that if Toni had been here, by this time she and her uncle would have been at daggers-drawn. They would have raved at each other and Toni would have behaved badly simply to defy him.

  Latonia was determined to be conciliatory but not humble.

  She agreed with everything Lord Branscombe suggested, and she did so with what she thought was a quiet dignity.

  Once or twice she thought she saw an expression of surprise in his eyes, but she was not certain. In fact, she told herself, he was an enigma and it was very hard to know what he was feeling about her or about anyone else.

  After their lesson he would usually rise from the table and sit at his desk to work on his papers, which Latonia had become extremely curious about. But she was sure he would think it an impertinence if she questioned him about them.

  When alone in the cabin, she had been tempted to look at his papers and find out for herself, but then she thought it would be disgraceful to spy on him, even though under the same circumstances he would spy on her.

  She had the feeling that he was longing to trip her up, watching her as if she was a wild animal that might make a break for freedom at any moment.

  In the evenings she spent the time reading and, as fortunately it was an activity she particularly enjoyed, she usually became completely absorbed in her book.

  It was by no means a penance to curl up on the sofa in the cabin and read one of the many books on India, which she had discovered were obtainable from the ship’s library.

  A Steward had brought her a catalogue of what they had and she had chosen half-a-dozen books on her own initiative before Lord Branscombe was aware of what she was doing.

  “Where have these come from?” he asked one morning.

  They had returned from their pre-breakfast walk to find a whole pile of books on the side-table in the cabin.

  “They are from the library,” Latonia explained. “I asked a Steward to obtain them for me.”

  “You might have consulted me first,” he replied, looking at the books. “I should have been able to advise you which ones would be worth reading.”

  “I could not be sure that your taste is the same as mine,” Latonia said with a faint smile.

  He looked at her sharply, as if he thought that she was being rude. Then, turning over the books in what she thought was a disdainful fashion, he was forced, against every inclination, to admit that there was nothing wrong with her choice.

  “I will see what else is available,” he said, “but I imagine these will take you some time to get through.”

  “I am a very quick reader.”

  “And you are really interested in India?”

  “I should have thought you would have realised that by this time and that is why I am so keen to learn Urdu.”

  There was nothing he could say to that reply, because she was aware that he had been surprised at how quickly she had picked up a smattering of the language and she knew that her pronunciation of the words was quite as good as his.

  He tried to discourage her from being pleased with herself by telling her that there were very many different languages and dialects in India.

  But she remembered her father saying that Urdu was the most common and she worked hard at improving her vocabulary from the dictionary when Lord Branscombe was busy at his desk.

  The heat in the Red Sea made Latonia feel so limp that it was impossible to concentrate on a book or anything else and she rose from her bed to go
to the open porthole.

  She looked out and saw that there was just a faint golden light on the horizon that heralded the dawn.

  The stars were still twinkling in the sky, but she knew that with the swiftness of the coming day within a few minutes they would begin to fade as the rising fingers of light swept them into oblivion.

  ‘It is so lovely, so beautiful,’ she told herself and she had a sudden longing to see more.

  Swiftly, without really thinking about it, she dressed and, opening the cabin door, ran down the corridor towards the door that led onto the deck.

  A moment later she was at the rail-side and, as she watched the light growing and expanding on the horizon and felt a cool breeze blowing against her skin, she knew it was what she had longed for.

  Then she was spellbound as the sun, suddenly dazzling in her eyes, turned the sea to a glittering glory that seemed to ripple from the horizon towards the ship.

  ‘It is a wonder beyond words,’ Latonia said to herself and felt as if the beauty of it became part of her heart.

  The sun rose higher and now she moved towards the stern, anxious to get away from the door she had come on deck through in case anyone saw her.

  She reached the end of the rail where she could look down on the lower deck, where some of the Steerage passengers sat most of the day. Their cabins were small and airless and, as the ship was full, exceedingly cramped.

  At the moment it was too early for anyone to be about except several men who had obviously slept on deck and were still lying in a recumbent position.

  Latonia stood looking astern.

  The ship made green and white waves as it moved through the calm water and she knew that in a little while the sun would be so hot that she must either fetch a hat or move under the awning.

  Suddenly she was aware that two people had joined her at the rail. One was a very old man and with him was a middle-aged woman wearing a uniform that proclaimed her to be a nurse.

  They stood gazing at the sea as Latonia was and then suddenly the nurse said,

  “I wonder, miss, if you’d look after him for a moment. I feel sick, not from the sea but from something I ate last night.”

  “Yes, of course,” Latonia replied.

  She thought as she spoke that the woman had a green look about her, as if she had in fact been poisoned.

  The nurse hurried away with a speed that showed her urgency and Latonia moved closer to the old man, who was holding onto the rail with his blue-veined hands.

  “Pretty,” he said, as if he was speaking to himself. “Very – pretty.”

  “Yes, it is,” Latonia agreed. “The sun makes us all feel happy.”

  She spoke quietly, but he turned his head to look at her and asked in a frightened voice,

  “Where – is my – nurse? Where has she – gone?”

  “She is coming back in a moment,” Latonia said soothingly. “She will not be more than a minute or two.”

  “I want her!” the old man said crossly. “I – want her! She has – left me – alone!”

  “She is coming back,” Latonia repeated, but he was obviously as agitated as a child might be at losing what was familiar.

  He took his hands from the rail and turned unsteadily. Latonia thought that he was going to fall and quickly she put one hand in his and her other arm round his shoulders to steady him.

  “Your nurse will be back in a moment,” she said again, “and you must tell her how pretty the sea is.”

  It was either the tone of her voice or perhaps the touch of her hand that reassured him. His fingers tightened on hers and, as Latonia drew him back to the rail, he put out his other hand to hold onto it.

  Latonia kept her arm round him, thinking that he might still make an effort to go off and seek his nurse. He was very old and frail.

  “Look at the sunshine on the waves,” she suggested softly.

  Then suddenly she heard the steely voice of Lord Branscombe ask,

  “What the devil do you think you are doing here?”

  She turned her head without relinquishing her hold on the old man and found that he was just behind her. There was no doubt of the expression of anger and suspicion on his face.

  “So I cannot even trust you not to sneak out while I am asleep,” he said furiously. “Who is this man?”

  He was not able to see the old man’s face because, as Latonia had told him to, he was watching the sunshine on the sea.

  All Lord Branscombe could see was that Latonia had her arm round a man’s shoulder and her hand in his.

  If he had not taken her by surprise and if in fact she had not felt agitated by the anger in his voice, she might have thought it amusing.

  As it was, for the moment she could only stare at him, finding it hard to believe that anyone would be so suspicious of what had been on her part nothing but an act of charity.

  Then, as she realised what he was thinking and knew of what he was accusing her, the nurse came back.

  She moved to the other side of the old man, saying as she did so,

  “Thank you ever so much, miss, for looking after him. I hope he’s been no trouble.”

  “You’re – back,” the old man said in his quavering voice. “Why did you – go away? I – thought I had – lost you.”

  “You won’t do that,” the nurse said cheerily. “Come on, put your arm through mine and we’ll go walkies. You know the doctor said you were to move about.”

  As he put his arm through the nurse’s, Latonia relinquished her hold on him. The nurse and the old man moved away and she turned round to face Lord Branscombe, who was still standing a little behind her.

  She looked up at him, her head silhouetted against the glory of the sun. There was no need for words and, after a moment, when his eyes held hers, he said,

  “I suppose I should apologise?”

  “I think that – would be the – fair thing to do.”

  Lord Branscombe moved to the rail and leant over it.

  “You can hardly expect me to be anything but suspicious, considering the stories I have been told about you in the past.”

  It was as if he wished to excuse himself for his own hasty judgement, but Latonia replied,

  “I believe in a Court of Law they will not admit hearsay as evidence.”

  She thought for one moment that there was just a faint smile at the corners of Lord Branscombe’s lips before he answered,

  “There is also such a thing as circumstantial evidence.”

  “Which still has to be proved,” Latonia said quickly.

  There was silence.

  Then Lord Branscombe said,

  “I suppose you would consider it right and proper, or shall I say ‘fair’ if I listen to any explanations you might wish to make.”

  Latonia looked out over the sea before she responded,

  “We are moving towards a part of the world I have never visited before and we have left England behind. Surely we can do the same about my past.”

  “Is that what you want to do or is that a statement which you think will impress me?”

  She had a feeling, which she could not substantiate, that he was deliberately forcing himself into being more disagreeable than he actually felt.

  “I have just watched the dawn of a new day,” Latonia said. “Perhaps human beings have new dawns in their lives? If Nature can be born anew – cannot we!”

  “That is an idea which has never occurred to me,” Lord Branscombe replied, “for the simple reason that medically it is not accepted.”

  “Then perhaps I can be the exception,” Latonia said. “I want to think that the past is no longer important, it is the – future that – matters.”

  She meant to speak lightly, but somehow her voice sounded serious and almost as if it was a plea.

  He turned to look at her and, because he was looking at her penetratingly and critically, the blood rose in her cheeks.

  After a moment he said,

  “You surprise me, Antonia.
In fact I have been continually surprised by you ever since we met.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you are not what I expected.”

  Latonia had no wish to reply and she could not help a little tremor of fear in case he was being remarkably perceptive and had guessed that she was not who she pretended to be.

  Then, as if he wished to find fault, Lord Branscombe said in a different tone of voice,

  “Why did you break the rules and come on deck so early?”

  “I could not sleep – because it was so hot,” Latonia replied. “I also wanted to see the dawn. The moment before the sun rises is so breathless – so exciting, that it is something I will always remember.”

  “You will see many beautiful dawns while you are in India,” Lord Branscombe said in a different voice, “especially near the Himalayas.”

  Latonia clapped her hands together.

  “Is that where we are going?”

  “Eventually.”

  “That is what I have longed for, prayed for – that one day I should see the Himalayas.”

  “Why?”

  There was silence while she tried to find words to answer.

  “They have always been to – me in my – imagination, not only the most beautiful mountains in the world – but perhaps a – symbol of man’s endeavour to reach beyond himself towards God.”

  She did not realise that Lord Branscombe looked at her almost incredulously as she went on,

  “That is what I – feel they mean to the – Indian people and perhaps to all those who through the – ages have sought to – pierce the veil between this world and the next.”

  Latonia had spoken almost as though she was talking to herself.

  She was thinking out her own answer to his question, finding it difficult to choose the right words to express her inner feelings, yet determined to give them their full meaning.

  There was a long silence and she thought that perhaps Lord Branscombe would go on with the conversation.

  She had, for the first time, the feeling that he knew a great deal more about what she was trying to say than she knew herself.