The Sun Sister (The Seven Sisters #6) - Lucinda Riley Page 0,210

just came to say hello to . . .’ Cecily indicated the hut. ‘Is she here?’

‘No. She hear dog. Run away. She afraid.’

‘Oh. Can you tell her that I came here to see her?’

‘Yes. You come back with sun.’ Nygasi pointed upwards.

‘Okay,’ she said as Nygasi carved a piece of meat from the spit with a great sharp knife and tossed it to Wolfie.

‘Oldia. Dog,’ he said.

‘Oldia,’ Cecily repeated, stroking Wolfie.

‘Etaa sere,’ he said, then gave her a bow and turned away from her.

Cecily set off back home. Once she had settled down on the veranda with the gas lamp beside her to read her book, she realised it was the first time she’d spoken directly to Nygasi. Having got used to him always being with her husband, she admitted to herself that she had always been a little afraid of him; but tonight he’d seemed friendly enough.

As she got into bed an hour later, Cecily decided she would definitely return to the camp tomorrow and meet this Maasai princess for herself.

‘Is she here?’ she asked Nygasi when she arrived back in the clearing the following morning.

‘She there.’ Nygasi pointed to the shelter.

‘Can you tell her I’d like to meet her?’

Nygasi nodded then walked over to the shelter, peeled back one of the cowhides and spoke in rapid Maa to the person inside.

‘She come. Sit?’ he indicated a hide placed on the ground beside the fire pit.

Cecily did so, then watched as the animal-skin door was pulled back slightly and a pair of fearful eyes peered out. Nygasi said what were obviously comforting words, for the hide was peeled back further. Cecily watched in fascination as a young woman unfolded herself from the low shelter. She’d always thought of Nygasi as tall, but the woman who stood next to him was even taller. Cecily drew in her breath at the incredible creature standing in front of her. Her black skin shone ebony in the sunlight that sparkled through the trees, her long limbs were almost impossibly slender and her neck seemed to go on forever, carrying an exquisitely chiselled face with full lips and high cheekbones below limpid brown eyes. Her hair was shaved neatly down to her scalp, and her chin jutted slightly upwards as she stared at Cecily with a certain air of hauteur. She was dressed in a lambskin skirt with a red shawl wrapped around her torso. An assortment of silver earrings hung from her ears and her neck and wrists were adorned with multi-coloured beaded bangles and necklaces.

Cecily had been expecting a child, but this thirteen-year-old was every inch a woman, with the noble bearing of the princess that she was. She was so incredibly striking that Cecily could hardly speak for staring at her.

She stood up slowly and walked over to greet the young woman, who towered above her. ‘I’m Cecily Forsythe, Bill’s wife. I’m pleased to meet you, Njala.’

She held out her hand and the young woman took it almost regally, giving a nod as she did so.

‘No English,’ Nygasi explained.

‘It’s okay. I just wanted her to know that if there was any problem, I’m . . . well, I’m there.’

Nygasi nodded, then spoke to the girl in Maa. She whispered something back.

‘She say thank you for shelter on your land.’

‘Oh, it’s no problem,’ Cecily stuttered, feeling Njala’s amazing eyes upon her. ‘I love your bangles.’ Cecily pointed to the woman’s wrist. ‘Very beautiful. Right then, I’d better be off. Good to meet you, Njala. Bye now. Come on, Wolfie.’ Cecily turned away and walked from the clearing. It was only when she was halfway home that she realised she had been so overwhelmed by the woman’s beauty, she’d not even taken a glance at Njala’s stomach to try and decipher how pregnant she was.

Having spent the day in the garden and after cooking herself another lonely supper, Cecily wandered into the sitting room, turned on the light and went over to the bookcase to find one of Bill’s books on the Maasai. Lighting a fire in the grate because the evening was chilly, Cecily settled in an armchair and began to read.

It was a white man’s account, written by a big game hunter who’d been captured by a clan whilst out on their territory. He’d managed to barter his way out of death by offering them his shotgun and had eventually befriended them. The one thing that struck Cecily above all was the barbarous way they treated their women.

She particularly blanched at