Punished with Love Read online

  She wanted to question him and she wanted him to explain so much that she found bewildering.

  Then abruptly, almost as if he called himself to attention, he said,

  “It is really a little too early for our walk, but I think we should now go up on the top deck for our exercise.”

  *

  When the Odessa steamed into Bombay Harbour on the seventeenth day after they had left England, Latonia thought that it was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to her.

  Her enthusiasm and excitement had forced Lord Branscombe on deck far earlier than he had intended and, as he stood looking at the mist that hung over the great harbour, there was a bored expression on his face.

  But, despite this, Latonia had the feeling that he was not so blasé and uninterested as he tried to pretend.

  Latonia had hoped that she would have time to see the town, but when they went ashore Lord Branscombe had been met by a number of Army Officers and, having retrieved their luggage and been shown into a carriage driven by soldiers in uniform, they set off immediately for the railway station.

  Latonia just had time to see the massive parade of huge official buildings built parallel to the sea and separated from the beaches only by an expanse of brownish turf, a railway line, and a riding track.

  It was all very different from what she had expected, yet as Lord Branscombe pointed out to her the Secretariat, the University, the library, the Law Courts and the Post Office, she thought they had a familiar look in that they could be nothing but the creation of the British.

  She did not say so, as she thought that it might sound as if she was being critical, but when they reached the railway station she found it the grandest of all the buildings, mock-Oriental, Saracenic and Moghul with domes clocks, and stained-glass windows.

  Here the theatrical confusion of the platforms was exactly what she had expected, a frenzy of Indians in turbans, priestly yellow robes, nose-clips, loincloths and dhotis.

  While the huge engines steamed and hissed, hawkers shouted their wares and beggars with mutilated faces or twisted limbs made their whining voices heard.

  However, there was little time for Latonia to enjoy the colourful confusion.

  The Officers who had met Lord Branscombe on the ship had followed them in another carriage and were now waiting to escort them to the train.

  As a concession to his Lordship’s importance, they had a sleeping coach, a drawing room, and a servants’ compartment attached to the original train, which was filled to suffocation.

  Lord Branscombe had introduced Latonia in a perfunctory way to the Officers who had met him and now as she joined them in the drawing room she was aware that two of the younger men looked at her with a glint of admiration in their eyes.

  “I hope you will enjoy India, Miss Combe,” one of them said. “You will find plenty of gaiety in Simla, if your uncle is taking you there.”

  “I am not certain where we are going,” Latonia replied.

  The Officer looked surprised before he added,

  “Well, I hope for your sake that it will be one of the hill stations, but I am certain you will also find an enthusiastic welcome waiting for you in Delhi.”

  Latonia thought it strange that Lord Branscombe, after their first conversation in which he had told her that she could enjoy none of the entertainments and amusements of India, had never mentioned their destination again.

  It suddenly struck her that perhaps it was secret, though why he should be moving about in such a manner she had no idea.

  There was still some time before the train left, when Lord Branscombe said unexpectedly,

  “I think, Latonia, it would be a good idea if you saw that everything you require for the journey has been placed in your bedroom. The rest of your luggage will be in the van.”

  She knew quite well that what he was saying was that he wished her to leave the drawing room.

  She rose from the chair she had been sitting on and held out her hand to the young Officer with whom she had been talking.

  “Goodbye.”

  He held her hand a little longer than was necessary.

  “Goodbye,” he answered, “and I hope we shall meet again, Miss Combe.”

  “I hope so too,” she replied.

  She smiled at him as she would have smiled at anyone who had been talking to her politely.

  But she had the uncomfortable feeling that Lord Branscombe was glaring at her and, as she walked away towards her own compartment, which adjoined the drawing room, she thought it would be intolerable that anytime she spoke to a man, he suspected her of behaving badly.

  ‘What can Toni have done,’ she wondered as she had wondered a thousand times before, ‘to make him feel like this about her?”

  There was, of course, the attempted suicide of Andrew Luddington, but, although that was a terrible thing to have happened, Latonia that felt he must have been a weak, rather stupid character and a man who had commanded troops would surely realise this.

  ‘Perhaps Lord Branscombe believes only what he wants to believe,’ she told herself.

  When she reached her compartment she found, as she had expected, that the luggage she wanted was there and that there was no reason for her to worry about it.

  She raised the blind over the window and looked out at the seething crowds on the platform, dazzled by the kaleidoscope of colour.

  She thought that the women in their saris and the children with their huge dark eyes and their small olive-skinned faces were very beautiful.

  After she had watched everything for some time, she decided that she would go back to the drawing room even if Lord Branscombe did not want her.

  Toni undoubtedly would have resented being sent away like an unwanted parcel and, because Latonia was determined to show her independence, she decided to return.

  She opened the door into the drawing room and as she did so she heard the Officer, who was the senior of those who had met Lord Branscombe, say,

  “For God’s sake, my Lord, take every precaution. As you are well aware, these small independent States will do anything to prevent their behaviour coming to the notice of the Viceroy. If they think that you are a threat, they will undoubtedly try to dispose of you in one way or another.”

  Latonia stood listening and felt that what she was hearing could not be true but must be a figment of her imagination.

  It was too like an adventure story from a boys’ paper and yet the Officer had undoubtedly said the words that she had just heard.

  There was in his voice an inescapable note of sincerity as well as one of warning.

  Then she heard Lord Branscombe laugh.

  “I can take care of myself, Stevens, as you must know by this time. On this journey I am in a position of authority, instead of being on an undercover investigation.”

  “I am aware of that, at the same time, I do beg of you to take care. The last report we had from – ”

  He lowered his voice so that it was barely above a whisper and Latonia could not hear anymore.

  Because she was surprised at what she had overheard, she turned and went back into her own compartment.

  Surely, she thought, Lord Branscombe was not taking her, as his niece, into danger?

  Yet there was no mistaking what the Officer called Stevens had said and she had a feeling that he spoke with a knowledge of what lay ahead, while Lord Branscombe, just arriving from England, might be completely ignorant.

  ‘Surely he will listen to him?’ Latonia asked herself.

  The train started and, because she knew that Lord Branscombe would now be alone, she moved quickly into the drawing room.

  He was standing at the window, looking at the crowds on the platform, who were staring at the moving train as if it was a prehistoric monster and Latonia went to his side to say,

  “I had never imagined there could be so many people on one platform at one time.”

  Lord Branscombe smiled.

  “Trains in India are both an am
usement and a terror to the native population. At the same time it is something new and they find it too fascinating to miss.”

  “I can understand that,” Latonia said. “And, as we are talking about a new world, will you tell me where we are going?”

  Lord Branscombe gave her a sharp glance, as if he expected that she had a reason for asking the question, before he replied,

  “Is it of any great interest?”

  “It is to me,” Latonia said, “and, as I asked you before, I would like to have a map to follow our journey on, so that when it is over I can retrace our steps in my imagination”

  “I do not have a map at hand,” Lord Branscombe replied, “but I daresay I can find you one later.”

  She had the feeling that he was deliberately prevaricating and avoiding answering her question.

  She sat down on a chair looking at him as she asked,

  “Are you in the Secret Service?”

  There was a distinct pause before he replied,

  “Why should you ask such a question?”

  “Perhaps you will think I am perceptive or it might be better for me to be frank and say that I overheard something which was said to you just now.”

  Lord Branscombe looked angry and she added quickly,

  “I did not intend to eavesdrop. I opened the door and heard an Officer called Stevens begging you to be careful.”

  “Stevens should be more discreet in what he says,” Lord Branscombe replied sharply.

  “I would rather know the truth,” Latonia insisted. “If we are going into danger, then I, as well as you, will have to look out for it and it is best to be prepared.”

  Lord Branscombe frowned.

  “If there was any real danger,” he said, “I should not take you with me. There are plenty of people, friends of mine, who would be only too pleased to chaperone you. But, as you are well aware, I have my reasons for keeping you under my eye and away from the sort of society in which you would inevitably get into trouble.”

  “I have always believed that one is innocent until one has been proved guilty,” Latonia said lightly.

  “I have an easy answer to that,” Lord Branscombe replied, “but I thought that we agreed to speak only of the future.”

  “I have no wish to be put in the charge of a chaperone or to be subjected to the temptations you are so afraid of,” Latonia asserted.

  She saw that her words brought a scowl to Lord Branscombe’s face, but she continued before he could speak,

  “I would much prefer to be with you and to visit the places which you say are off the beaten track and different from what most tourists in India see. But I would also like to know what I am in for and. if your life is in danger, then four eyes are better than two.”

  “You should not have listened to what was not meant for your ears,” Lord Branscombe replied harshly, “and you certainly need not concern yourself about the danger of what I am doing. I assure you that I shall be perfectly safe, as you will be. If there is any likelihood of anything else, I promise you we shall leave immediately for the nearest British Residency.”

  Latonia sighed.

  “You are deliberately trying not to understand what I am asking of you,” she said. “It does sound like an adventure story and indeed what one would expect of India and, if this is part of the intrigue and the secrecy which I have read is necessary for the running of this great country, then I want to do what I can to help.”

  She spoke with an unmistakable sincerity and she knew that Lord Branscombe was, almost despite himself, impressed by what she was saying.

  Just for a moment she thought that he was about to be frank and take her into his confidence, but, when he would have replied, two Stewards came into the carriage to tell them that at the next station their luncheon would be brought aboard and they hoped that it would be to their liking.

  The stops at different stations, the attention they received from their own Stewards, and the fact that Lord Branscombe was obviously determined not to have a confidential talk with her made it difficult for Latonia to do anything but make commonplace remarks for the rest of the day.

  At the same time, when she went to bed she found herself increasingly intrigued with the idea that this journey which she was accompanying Lord Branscombe on was one of importance.

  She knew that the Viceroy and the network of officials under him ran the country, in which three hundred million people were controlled by what was in proportion a mere handful of British.

  Lying awake while the train thundered over the rails, Latonia tried to remember what she had heard of the difficulties in India.

  Her father had often spoken of the country, but usually it concerned the days when he was there with his Regiment. She had also obtained some information from the books that she had found in the ship’s library.

  She had the feeling that the menace of the Russians and their infiltration into Afghanistan somehow concerned Lord Branscombe and yet she had no grounds for actually thinking so.

  ‘There is so much I want to ask him, so much he could tell me,’ Latonia thought and yet she had the feeling that because he disliked her he did not trust her.

  It would be useless to question him.

  However, she had a very retentive memory and she knew that she had read somewhere, it was not important where, that the Russians were moving East and South, absorbing one after the other the Khanates of Central Asia in preparation for the encirclement of India.

  It seemed far-fetched and yet in another book she had read that there was a Russian railway being built across Siberia to the Far East and the rumour of another in Turkistan, which might be the beginning of a plan to annexe Tibet.

  ‘If only Lord Branscombe would talk to me,’ Latonia thought, and she was determined to force from him an answer to all that she wished to know.

  *

  The following morning, after their breakfast had been removed, she asked,

  “Would you like to explain to me what is happening amongst the Muslim tribes on the frontier between Afghanistan and India?”

  There was no doubt that Lord Branscombe stiffened at her question.

  “Who have you been talking to?” he asked sharply.

  Latonia smiled.

  “As you are well aware, I have not had the opportunity of talking to anyone but you, but at least you have allowed me to read.”

  She thought he relaxed before he remarked,

  “I am sure I can find you some books on the subject, if that is what interests you.”

  “I would much rather you talked to me and explained what I want to know,”

  “And what is that?”

  “How dangerous are the tribesmen in the North and are the Russians deliberately using smaller independent Princes to further their own interests?”

  She had the feeling that if she had dropped a bomb at Lord Branscombe’s feet he could not have been more astonished.

  At the same time, after an initial start of surprise he appeared relaxed and, apart from what she thought was a dangerous glitter in his grey eyes, his face was quite expressionless.

  “I cannot imagine what book you have read that is full of such nonsense,” he said. “I personally think the menace of the Russians has been deliberately blown up out of all proportion by writers like Rudyard Kipling, who want to sell their books.”

  Latonia did not answer and, after a moment, as if he was curious to know her reaction to his words, he asked,

  “Do you believe me?”

  She shook her head slowly.

  “I might have done so,” she said, “if I had not heard what Colonel Stevens said to you last night.”

  Lord Branscombe made an exclamation of impatience and then he said,

  “Very well, I can see there might be some truth in the supposition, but that is not the reason for my journey, which is merely to make contact with the Princes, to find out if they need British assistance in running their States and to assure them that their loyalty, if they give
it to the British Raj, will be rewarded.”

  She felt that meagre though the information was, he resented having to give it to her.

  She could not help there being just a faint note of triumph in her voice when she replied,

  “Thank you so much for telling me. It makes it all the more interesting to know why we are doing something. It would also be more exciting if only I knew where.”

  Just for a moment she thought that Lord Branscombe might rage at her, but then he said in an amused tone,

  “All women are like mosquitoes! Irritating, persistent! Very well, I will tell you where we are going, although I am quite certain that the information will tell you nothing and you will find little mention of such places in your guide books.”

  “I hardly think I shall want one,” Latonia said.

  “Why should you say that?” he asked, which was what she had intended.

  “Because the best guide and, of course, the best one to give me information, would be you,” she replied.

  It was a satisfaction to see that even though he was aware that she had tricked him, there was quite a human twinkle in his eyes as he conceded,

  “Very well, Latonia, you win. Now tell me exactly what you wish to know before we get there.”

  *

  The City they had reached, after travelling a great number of uncomfortable miles over uncharted roads and dusty plains, was like something out of another age.

  Built of pale sandstone, the walls had a bleached appearance, as if the burning sun had drained them of colour. However, the bazaar was like a rainbow, but the people themselves looked poor and many were in rags.

  For the best part of the journey Latonia had been able to ride, which was a joy she had not expected.

  “I suppose you are used to riding long distances?” Lord Branscombe said to her before they reached the junction where had they left the train.

  “Yes, if you call a full day’s hunting a long distance,” Latonia replied.

  She thought that he should have been aware that Toni was as skilled in the saddle as her father had been.

  Then, as Lord Branscombe did not comment, she thought that because he disliked Toni and everything she stood for, he was not prepared for her to appreciate even the sports that he enjoyed.