he’s landed himself and Esmie in an awkward situation. I suppose appearances matter more in the colonies. I wouldn’t give two figs what people said about me – but no doubt it’s different for Esmie trying to carry out the duties of a respectable hotelier’s wife.’
‘What do we do about Andy?’ Stella asked.
Tibby squeezed Stella’s hand. ‘Nothing for the moment. Wait and see if Lydia brings up the subject. If she does, then we can let Andrew know the full picture. After all, it’s only from Lydia’s meanness that Tommy and Esmie aren’t properly married. My guess is that she won’t want to be seen in a bad light and won’t mention it.’
She let go of Stella’s hand and sighed. ‘What’s so damnable is that it was Lydia who couldn’t wait to leave India and Tommy – she didn’t even want Andrew. She came rushing back here and immediately took up with a rich wine merchant. He was called Colin Fleming, as I recall, and she knew him from way back. He had always been sweet on her apparently. But she tried to have her cake and eat it – avoid a scandalous divorce with Tommy and have Colin as an escort.’
‘So what happened?’ asked Stella.
‘Colin surprised everyone by proposing to a much younger Frenchwoman he’d met on the Riviera. They had a swift wedding in Nice and Lydia was left with no one. After that, the best Tommy could get from her was a formal separation.’
Tibby began packing up the picnic basket. Stella took in deep breaths of salty air to try and quell the anger she felt inside. The thought of going back to Templeton Hall and being civil to Lydia filled her with distaste.
Yet pretending to Andrew that everything was fine would be a harder task. Her heart ached for him. He was the innocent in all this, caught up in his parents’ wrangling. Subdued, the two women returned to the castle.
To delay her return to Templeton Hall, Stella asked Tibby to show her Dawan’s artwork. Brightening, Tibby took her into a large room on the ground floor with tall windows that flooded the room with afternoon light. Paintings were propped against the walls and the parquet floor was covered in paint splashes. A long table was strewn with brushes, paints and jars of coloured water, and the room smelt of turpentine. Dawan, wearing an enveloping apron, was standing at an easel at the far window, absorbed in his work.
Tibby waved across the room at him. ‘You don’t mind if Stella looks at your paintings, do you?’
He gave a distracted smile and put down his brush, wiping his hands on a rag.
‘Please don’t stop on my account,’ said Stella. ‘I’ll be very quiet.’
‘But Tibby won’t be,’ he replied, crossing the room.
Together, the three of them toured the room looking at the paintings in turn. Stella found them startling. Two or three were of white women dressing or bathing but most were of Indian people – striking faces and bold colours – done with a simplicity of style that seemed very modern and European.
‘May I see what you’re working on at the moment?’ Stella asked.
He seemed pleased and led them back to his easel.
‘It’s Manjusri – the goddess of beauty and learning.’
Stella was transfixed by the depiction of a half-naked woman with four arms, wearing a scarlet skirt similar to the dress Tibby had on. Her face was still a blank but Stella had the unsettling thought that Tibby might have posed for the artist.
In one of the upper hands the goddess held a book of Scottish poetry and in the other a large white flower.
‘She should be holding a sacred book full of wisdom,’ explained Dawan, ‘but my goddess is a lover of literature.’ He paused. ‘The flower is the lotus – a symbol of beauty.’
‘It’s very . . .’ Stella searched for the right word. ‘It gets your attention.’
Both Tibby and Dawan laughed.
‘Thank you for showing me your work,’ said Stella. ‘Perhaps you’ll let me see Manjusri when she’s finished?’
He bowed in agreement and picked up his brush again.
The women returned to the kitchen, retrieved Miss MacAlpine’s tin and then walked to where Stella had left her bicycle.
‘I’m so grateful to you and Dawan for giving up your day to entertain me,’ said Stella.
‘You must come whenever you want.’ Tibby smiled, her eyes full of understanding. ‘I’m sorry that what I’ve told you about Tommy still being married to Lydia has come as a shock. It