Читать книгу Captured by Moonlight - Christine Lindsay - Страница 5

The jigsaw puzzle of the old city of Amritsar fell behind. The wallah pulling Laine’s rickshaw entered the clean and geometrically laid out British Civil Lines with its red-bricked and white-columned government buildings. As the rickshaw pulled up to the club, a recording of the Wang Wang Blues belted out. Lights blazed over the regimental club and flooded the lawn and flowerbeds.

Inside, people danced to the jazz tune. A few years ago nothing could have stopped her from sliding onto the dance floor and tripping the light fantastic. Nowadays she’d rather stride the hospital wards in a solid pair of sensible shoes.

She shouldered her way through the crowd of merry-makers. Off to the side on a table sat piles of food, ham sandwiches, chutney, roast mutton, salads, and trays of Indian sweets. British military men and their wives stood chatting, balancing plates and glasses in their hands. Abby wound her way toward her with a plate of food. Geoff stood by the display of regimental silver with a gaggle of officers in their khaki drill trousers and shirts and ties. Cam stood at Geoff’s side as usual.

At five, Cam already showed the tall frame he’d inherited from his natural father, but Cam emulated the character of Geoff. How that boy adored his step-father.

As soon as the boy noticed her, he ran in her direction and wrapped his arms around her waist. “You came.”

“You don’t think for a minute I’d let you sail to the Orient without my good-bye kiss. By the way, Eshana sends you another kiss, so here it is.” She kissed him twice on the cheek, and he fidgeted to be free. “And here’s one from your little friend, Hadassah. I saw her tonight, and she was rather put out that you weren’t there to play with her.”

“Dassah is just a baby.” He squirmed out of her arms, a sharp furrow between his brows. “Enough kissing, Laine. You’re much more fun on the cricket pitch than acting like a girl.”

“Oh but I am a girl, and I admit that I like kissing very, very much. You won’t appreciate that fact about girls for a few years, but my dear young man, the day will come....”

Geoff’s gaze swung around to stop on Laine and then connected with Abby’s, a silent but pointed communication. The room suddenly felt too warm. Oh dear. He knew something. But then Geoff had a way of knowing everything.

She gave Cam another tight hug and straightened to send him back in the direction of his step-father. “Off you go, my lamb, help your dad keep the world safe and sound for the rest of us.”

Abby reached her as Cam raced back to Geoff. She folded Laine’s arm close and strolled with her to the veranda, away from the over-bright lights. Since her marriage to Geoff, Abby had bloomed, a veritable full-blown rose. Tonight Abby wore a chiffon sheath in pale green—its hemline swinging at mid calf—that clung to her shape and emphasized her radiance. Looking down at her own ensemble, Laine felt a twinge of regret at its dowdiness.

She and Abby found two empty cane chairs overlooking the garden, and Laine breathed in the roses.

“Get that in you.” Abby gave her the plate. “If I know anything about you, you’ve been too busy to eat all day.”

Laine tucked into the plate of sandwiches and curry puffs, and spoke with her mouth half full. “Bless you, luv, how’d you guess I’d be ready to eat the leg off a table?”

Abby signaled to a circulating waiter. “A pot of tea English style, please, and a pitcher of milk on the side.” She settled back in her chair. “Believe it or not, Laine, news of your crimes may have preceded you here tonight, so beware.”

Laine stopped chewing and swallowed, a lump of bread sticking in her throat. “Crimes?”

“That’s what Geoff’s in the corner nattering to the other officers about. Seems a delegation of Hindu priests and several high-caste lawyers dropped by the police station today. Caused quite a ruckus as they demanded the police start searching for the culprits who took a young woman from a Hindu temple.”

Laine forced a laugh and took a sip of tea. “Why would Geoff associate me with such a thing?”

“Apparently these two women were described in amazing detail. The town is heating up, and there’s enough trouble with Gandhi’s non-cooperation movement as it is.”

A long shadow fell over them from Geoff standing between them and the light inside the club. He strolled to the veranda railing and crossing his arms, leaned against it.

“Lieutenant Laine Harkness.” Though he spoke in a quiet undertone, she didn’t care for his unnerving emphasis on her rank. “Did you know that the head woman at a nearby temple recognized one of two female kidnappers today as a member of the Queen Alexandra Nursing Corp? The other woman, smaller in stature and clearly Indian, did not wear a kumkum dot on her forehead, and is not a Hindu. The police suspect she may be a Christian.”

He arched a brow. “Don’t give me that wide-eyed look of innocence. I know you too well. Guilt is written all over you. Really, Laine, instead of assisting Eshana in this hare-brained scheme you should have been talking her out of it. You’re older than her and should know better.”

“I hate to break this to you, Geoff, but Eshana is not a child. Though she’s an angel of mercy, she’s got more backbone in her than anyone I know. Besides, angels of mercy need to be tough as nails.”

Geoff’s brows arched higher. “So you admit it. Up to this moment I’d hoped and prayed my suspicions were wrong.”

“I’m admitting nothing.”

At that his brows creased together.

Abby placed a hand on Geoff’s. “Darling, do stop brow-beating her. I’m certain this will all blow over. Go to the mission now. Give Eshana a good talking to. And give her another hug from me. Right now I want to spend some time alone with Laine.”

At Abby’s words Geoff’s frown melted. “You’re right, of course, as usual.” A softness infused his eyes as he leaned down to grasp the arms of Abby’s chair, to rest his lips against hers for a moment.

Only a moment, yet Laine choked on her breath at the love that flowed between them. She couldn’t be happier for these two friends, but emptiness yawed inside her, and she reached for a thought. Any thought to fill her mind. The garden, the club...the mission today. Perhaps Geoff was right. She might have to scale down on these escapades with Eshana.

Geoff straightened and gave a weak smile to Abby and then to Laine. He gently squeezed Laine’s shoulder as he left them. “Do be careful, old friend. You are as dear to us as Eshana and the rest of the inhabitants of Miriam’s mission. Remember that.”

Abby leaned back in her chair as Geoff made his way through the party inside. She swept Laine with a speculative gaze. “It’s been said today’s perpetrators used live snakes to create confusion. How on earth would two women have the pluck to do that, I wonder?”

Laine pulled a strand of hair toward her chin. “It’s truly amazing what one can purchase in an Indian bazaar. It was a trick I learned from a boy I grew up with. If we wanted to sneak out of choir practice, Adam said there was nothing to empty a place quicker than a rat snake. It looks like a cobra. Did the trick all right. One sighting of the snake, the vicar cancelled choir practice, and Adam and I scampered off down to the marina in Madras to buy sweets and walk along the beach.”

“Mmm, so that’s how it was done. What are Eshana’s plans for this girl you kidnapped?”

“Depends on the girl’s recovery. We had to take the baby by surgery.... Dr. Kaur was brilliant. And, Abby, I’m sure our darling Eshana is smitten with him, and he with her.”

“No!” Abby leaned forward. “Not Eshana. Well, I wonder.” She tilted her head and studied Laine. “You got here late. I’d lined up a rather attractive man for you. Apparently he lives to dance. Still over there by the gramophone, putting on disk after disk of that Dixieland jazz you like.”

Laine bit into a curry puff and licked a glob of cream from the corner of her mouth. “Good gracious, save me from well-meaning match-makers.”

“Nonsense. You’ve told me for years you want a man.”

“Abby, an intelligent lady like you...you shouldn’t believe everything you hear.”

“Oh, Laine, do stop bantering. It was Reese dying like that, wasn’t it?” Abby lost her jovial tone. “Poor Reese, he’d made it through the war, and then to die in that stupid struggle with Afghanistan afterward. You and he really hit it off, didn’t you?”

Laine gave the only response she could, a slight shrug. Something had started to bud between her and Reese. Love? Perhaps for him. Given time they probably would have made it to the altar. Dear, riotous, red-haired Reese. He’d made her laugh. Almost made her forget her first love. Then dash it all, Reese’s plane had crashed in some desert in Waziristan. It had hurt dreadfully.

Abby’s teasing voice tugged her back. “Is that your goal in life, like Eshana, to be a single woman nursing the sick? Somehow I never saw this missionary spirit in you.”

“Missionary spirit, my eye.” A rare sigh escaped her. “Abby, I’m going to miss you. A whole year of you and Geoff and the children off in Singapore. Why does Geoff have to be so indispensible to the powers-that-be that they have to send him to another political hot spot? As if India isn’t hot enough already.”

“Will you write me, Laine?” An unfamiliar fearful tone entered Abby’s voice. “I’ll need to hear from you.”

“Of course, darling. You can’t possibly think old Laine will abandon you. But lead on. Take me to that damp-bottomed little princess of yours.”

She followed Abby into the club and down to the library where a pram took up a darkened corner. The pram jiggled, setting the toys and trinkets attached to the hood to jingle and clatter. In response, a soft coo issued from within, along with two woolen, booty-covered feet kicking and setting the toys to tinkle again. The little rascal was awake.

Abby leaned in and picked up Cam’s nine-month-old sister, Miriam. After kissing the corn-silk hair, she passed the baby to Laine.

Squeezing the chubby arms and legs, Laine breathed in the talcum-powder scent and sweetness of baby skin. “Miri, why are you going so far away?” She sent an accusing glance at the child’s mother.

Abby put up her hands. “Don’t blame me. It’s neither my desire nor Geoff’s to go to China.” She straightened Miri’s nightgown down over her nappy. “It’s only a year, and then we’ll be home.”

The baby snuggled closer, and a tight pain constricted Laine’s chest. Abby and Geoff’s offspring were the closest to a family of her own as she would ever get. But it was time to end this before she did something foolish and broke down in tears. At thirty, and the rate she was going, she was rapidly reaching the point of being too old to have the joys of children. Besides, who was there to marry? Thanks to the war to end all wars, there was an atrocious shortage of men.

Not that it mattered to a woman like her, who might find herself in jail come sun up.