Fragrant Flower (7 page)

“Sorry for her?” Derek Osmund exclaimed in surprise, “but why?”

“Because she must be so unhappy,” his wife replied. “If she has nothing to give to the world except criticism and malice, think what she must be like inside and what she has to suffer from herself when she is alone.”

Azalea remembered that her father, after looking at her mother incredulously for a moment, had then put his arms around her.

“You would find excuses for the very devil himself, my darling!”

“And why not?” Mrs. Osmund asked. “After all, he has to spend the whole of his existence in hell!”

Azalea’s father had laughed but she had often remembered her mother’s words.

Perhaps, she sometimes told herself, her aunt, because she was so bitter, cruel and unkind, was in fact suffering, although it was hard to believe that she did not enjoy making people, and herself in particular, unhappy.

Perhaps when the General was alone he was no longer pompous and overwhelmingly superior, but afraid that because he was growing old, he might be passed over for a younger man.

‘How am I to know,’ Azalea thought, ‘what such people think and feel unless I can talk to them?’

She wondered if she would ever be able to talk intimately to her aunt or her uncle. It was very unlikely!

The dinner, which consisted of a large number of courses, none of which had been outstandingly delectable, came to an end, and Lady Osmund rose from the table.

As she passed Lord Sheldon she paused and he got to his feet.

“I hope you will join us in the lounge for coffee?” she said graciously.

“You must forgive me, Ma’am,” he replied, “but I have some very important work to do.”

“In that case, I will say goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Lady Osmund.”

He bowed as she moved away from the table.

The twins passed him giggling again with each other, and then his eyes rested on Azalea.

She told herself she would not look at him, but somehow, as if he compelled her to do so, as she reached him, she raised her eyes involuntarily to his.

The expression on his face made her feel shy and embarrassed.

“Goodnight, Miss Azalea,” he said very quietly.

She wanted to answer him, but somehow the words would not come.

Quickly, with the grace of a frightened fawn, she turned and hurried after the twins.

She wanted to look back but she did not dare.

Only as she reached the top of the stairway which led from the Dining Saloon did she feel the thumping of her heart begin to subside and know that once again she could speak normally.

Chapter Three

Lord Sheldon walked unsteadily to the Captain’s table in the Dining Saloon to find that he was the only passenger there. There were half-a-dozen men at other tables in the room, somewhat green about the gills and turning away most of the dishes the stewards offered to them, but the large Saloon was otherwise empty.

It was not surprising that there was such a sparse attendance seeing that the sea had been unprecedentedly rough since they had left England.

“There’s not much more the
Orissa
can do, my Lord except stand on her head!” the steward who called Lord Sheldon that morning had said.

Even as he spoke he had been flung across the cabin and only managed to retain his balance by holding on to the bed.

“I imagine most of the passengers are not enjoying the voyage,” Lord Sheldon remarked.

“Nearly every one of them’s prostrate, my Lord,” the steward replied, “and as your Lordship can imagine, we’re run off our feet.”

Lord Sheldon certainly gave little trouble.

He was a good sailor and enjoyed the sea. When he had taken some exercise – he was the only person in sight on the wave-washed deck – the storm gave him a good excuse to get on with his writing.

It might be uncomfortable to write at strange angles and to have to fasten his ink pot down securely, but it was to his mind far more agreeable than having to chatter to the many women on board. They invariably pursued him relentlessly in what they fondly imagined was an unobtrusive manner, but which he found both embarrassing and a bore.

There had been no sign of Lady Osmund, Lord Sheldon thought with satisfaction as he ordered quite a large luncheon, since the first night at sea.

She was the type of Army wife whom he disliked, and he could not help remembering how George Widcombe had disparaged her, and that her aspirations as far as he was concerned were extremely obvious.

He was sorry for any man who was finally caught in the matrimonial net for either of the Osmund twins.

Apart from the fact that the girls had little brain and even less personality, whoever they married would always be overpowered both by Lady Osmund and the General.

It was strange, Lord Sheldon thought to himself, that two such unprepossessing people, although he did not question the General’s military ability, should have Azalea as a niece.

He had not seen her again since the first dinner aboard, but he supposed that she, like every other woman on the
Orissa
, had succumbed to the tempest.

As the steward offered Lord Sheldon the first course he had ordered, having difficulty keeping his balance as he did so, his Lordship remarked,

“I appear to be alone in my glory.”

“We are certainly not overworked at the Captain’s table, my Lord,” the steward replied. “The Captain has been on the bridge since we left harbour and has not been down for a single meal. You and Miss Osmund are the only passengers we have the pleasure of serving.”

“Miss Osmund?” Lord Sheldon questioned.

“Yes, my Lord, but she comes early for luncheon and dinner. Not a very social-minded young lady, if I may say so.”

Lord Sheldon did not reply. He was thinking of what the steward had said.

Now he remembered that he had imagined he caught a glimpse of Azalea only the day before. Then he had told himself he must be mistaken, for he had seen a figure that he thought resembled her on the Second Class deck.

He wondered why she should be visiting someone who was not travelling in the same class as she was herself. Lord Sheldon had seen the passenger list when he came aboard. It was his invariable habit to have the list sent to him by the shipping company with his ticket, so that he could know who were to be his fellow-travellers on long and often tedious voyages.

It was when he read the passenger list that he had realised the identity of Azalea.

The Commander-in-Chief had merely asked him to look after Lady Osmund and her twin daughters.

When he had seen their three names tabulated and after them, ‘Miss Azalea Osmund,’ he had known that his behaviour in the Study at Battlesdon House had been somewhat reprehensible.

And yet how, he asked himself, could Lady Osmund and the General have produced a daughter who was so unlike her sisters?

The Purser had enlightened him as soon as he came aboard.

“Lady Osmund was asking for you, my Lord. She would be grateful if you would kindly notify her of your arrival.”

The Purser had pointed to the plan of the ship in front of him.

“Lady Osmund is in Cabin ‘B’,” he said, “Miss Violet and Miss Daisy Osmund are in Cabin ‘C’ and Miss Azalea is on the other side of the passage in Cabin ‘J.’”

Lord Sheldon had looked at the position of the cabins as they were pointed out to him, and the Purser, as if he guessed at his unspoken comment, remarked, “Miss Azalea Osmund is only a niece, my Lord.”

She might be “only a niece” as the Purser had said somewhat disparagingly, Lord Sheldon thought, but that did not really explain why she had not attended the farewell party the General had given at Battlesdon House, or why she had been wearing a servant’s apron.

It was a mystery and Lord Sheldon enjoyed mysteries. He had, in fact, while he was in India, been very much more than a successful soldier.

Those who knew that country, and the difficulties and perils encountered there by the British troops, were aware that there was within the Indian Administration an amazing system of espionage that extended from the Northern Passes to the Southernmost tip of the country.

All sorts and conditions of different peoples passed information in various ways to the Government, and their identity was never revealed beyond the number by which they were known to each other.

Lord Sheldon had been ‘C-z7’ and, when he communicated with a certain horse-dealer in the Punjab who was known as ‘M-4’, the information he obtained from him might go to a Banker in Peshawar who was ‘R-r9’, or a Moslem employed as an agent in a Rajput state who was ‘N-46’.

Known as ‘The Great Game’, it was one of the most amazing, intricate and exciting phenomena of English rule and Lord Sheldon had worked his way to a position of importance.

He had been taught by his instructors that the slightest mistake, the faintest carelessness, could cause loss of life – which might well include his own.

He was, therefore, naturally alert and also continually suspicious of anything out of the ordinary. Azalea, innocent though she might appear, had eavesdropped in a manner which made him unlikely to dismiss it as negligible.

He was also aware of the source from which her information had come regarding Lord Ronald Gower.

He had himself read the Hong Kong file after receiving his instructions from the Earl of Kimberley, Secretary of State for the Colonies, and having had a confidential interview with the Chief of Staff at the War Office.

He had never thought of Sir Frederick Osmund as a talkative man, nor did he seem the type who would discuss official secrets with a girl, even if she was his niece.

It was therefore obvious to Lord Sheldon that, since Azalea had obviously read the Hong Kong file, she had done so without her uncle’s knowledge.

“But why?” he asked himself, “and for what purpose?”

Why, moreover, was her appearance so very un-English, especially in the company of her pink-and-white cousins? He had, in fact, after their encounter at the dinner table, looked forward to probing further into Miss Azalea Osmund’s strange behaviour.

There was, he told himself, plenty of time and, although he expected her not to appear until the ship reached the Mediterranean, he had every intention of pursuing his enquiries further before they reached Hong Kong.

Now, after what the steward had said, Lord Sheldon wondered if he had in fact been somewhat complacent over what was undoubtedly a mystery involving military secrets.

Recalling what he had read in the confidential file on Hong Kong, he did not think there was anything particularly important about the long correspondence from General Donovan, the reports on the military position, the Governor’s unpopularity and the manner in which he had changed the laws.

At the same time, a confidential report was not for outside eyes, and certainly it contained some information which could be utilised by enemy agents.

Lord Sheldon was quite determined to get to the bottom of the problem, but it was not his way when dealing with such affairs to rush in bald-headed without having all the facts he required at his fingertips.

Moreover, he could not believe that Azalea, if she were a spy, was a very effective one.

He had heard the noise she had inadvertently made with her feet on the floor, which was something no one efficient in the art of espionage would have done. There was also, he thought, evidence of inexperience both in her fear when she had come from behind the curtains to find him still in the study and her undoubted panic when she had run away from him after he had kissed her.

Lord Sheldon was not prepared to explain to himself why he had done so. It had been an impulse which on reflection he did not regret.

When he finished luncheon he decided to go down to the Third Class deck to enquire after the wife of a Company Sergeant-Major who was journeying to Hong Kong to be with her husband who had preceded her the week before.

The Sergeant-Major had served with Lord Sheldon in India, and when it had been impossible for his wife to sail with him on the troop ship because she had only just produced a baby, he had called to see his Lordship.

“How did you know I was going to Hong Kong?” Lord Sheldon enquired when the Company Sergeant-Major had arrived from Aldershot at his flat in St. James’s.

“It was in the newspapers, my Lord, and as soon as I read it, I realised that you and the wife would be on the same ship. I worry about her travelling alone with the children. She’s not one for the sea.”

Lord Sheldon wondered with an inward smile how many soldiers’ wives were, but he replied,

“I will certainly keep an eye on your wife, Sergeant-Major, and I only hope the weather is not too rough.”

“That’s what I’m hoping too, my Lord. I was never much of a sailor meself.”

They talked of old times, and then the Sergeant-Major said,

“We miss you, my Lord. Those of us who was with you in India wish we was back there, even if it was stinkin’ ’ot at times!”

“I feel the same,” Lord Sheldon smiled.

“Do you miss the Regiment, my Lord? It don’t seem right to be seeing you out of uniform.”

“I miss it more than I can say,” Lord Sheldon replied with a note of sincerity in his voice, “and I miss India. I am afraid you will find Hong Kong rather restricting. It is a very small Colony.”

“That’s just what I was thinking meself, my Lord,” the Sergeant-Major said. “But I’m hopin’ it won’t be for long, and we’ll ’ave some Indian troops with us, which’ll make it seem more like ’ome.”

“It will, indeed,” Lord Sheldon agreed.

He had known that a number of Indian troops were being sent to Hong Kong to reinforce the garrison, and that officers and N.C.O.s who had previously served in India were being drafted there to command them.

As the Sergeant-Major had expected, his wife had succumbed immediately to the roughness of the sea and, although Lord Sheldon had sent her various comforts, the stewardess who looked after her had reported she was far from well.

Now, descending to the Third Class deck with some difficulty owing to the pitching and tossing of the vessel, Lord Sheldon moved along the narrow passageway to the cabin occupied by Mrs. Favel and her children.