The Sun Sister (The Seven Sisters #6) - Lucinda Riley Page 0,70

had he mentioned Veronica, or his forthcoming marriage . . .

Unless of course he was planning to call it off tonight and that’s why he’d gone to London . . .

‘No, Cecily,’ she whispered, hanging her head and moving it rhythmically from side to side. ‘Don’t be so naive, you know he’s doing nothing of the sort.’

A tear left one of her eyes but she brushed it away harshly. She wouldn’t allow any self-indulgence. This situation was of her own making. She had been so very stupid, despite all her supposed cleverness. So stupid that she deserved not one iota of sympathy.

After a while, she stood up, walked over to her trunk, turned the brass keys to lock it then sat down on the top.

All she knew for certain was that she would never trust any man ever again.

‘Welcome to Mundui House, darling girl!’ Kiki said as she jumped down from the passenger seat of the white Bugatti that had brought them on the three-hour journey from Nairobi, and which was now covered in a thick layer of reddish-brown dirt. Cecily had kept her eyes closed for most of the drive, partly due to the dust that had coiled up around the car like the smoke from Aladdin’s lamp and made them itch, but mostly because she was so completely and utterly exhausted that it was too much effort to keep them open.

‘Oh!’ said Kiki, raising her arms up to the heavens. ‘I am so very glad to be home. Come on, I want to show you around. You have to see everything and then we’ll have champagne to celebrate you being here – or maybe we’ll have it before the tour – and then I might call up some friends to come for cocktails later on so they can meet you.’

‘Kiki, I . . . well, after the journey, I can’t walk another step,’ Cecily said as she managed to haul herself out of the car and blink in the bright sunlight, which felt as if it was boring into her pupils. She closed her eyes against the solar onslaught, staggered a little and caught hold of the car door.

‘Of course. You poor thing.’ Kiki was by her side in seconds, steadying her. ‘Aleeki!’ she called. ‘Come help Miss Cecily into the house, she’s fit to drop. Put her in the Rose suite at the other end of the hallway to me – the one where Winston stayed.’

‘Yes, memsahib.’

A strong arm complete with fingers of steel was placed around her shoulders.

Cecily opened her eyes, expecting to see a great tall Negro, but instead she found herself staring into the quizzical brown eyes of an elderly birdlike man.

‘You lean on me, memsahib.’

And Cecily did so, horribly embarrassed that the man must be at least three times her age. All she noticed as he led her inside and up the staircase was the wonderful coolness after the stifling heat of the car journey.

‘This your room, memsahib.’

Cecily walked straight towards an easy chair placed in the corner and sat down before she fell where she stood. Aleeki proceeded to pull back the white sheet and eiderdown on the bed – why on earth was there an eiderdown when it was so darned hot? – then reached up and pulled the string on the ceiling fan, which whirred into life.

‘You want shutters closed, memsahib?’

‘Yes please.’

Cecily breathed a sigh of relief as the sun that had been streaming in through the large many-paned windows was banished from the room.

‘I bring you tea? Coffee?’

‘No, just water will do, thanks.’

‘Water there,’ he said, pointing to a flask by the bed. ‘More below.’ He indicated the cupboard underneath. ‘You want help with clothes? I can call the maid.’

‘No thanks, I just need to sleep.’

‘Okay, memsahib. Press bell for help, understand?’ He pointed to a button on the wall next to the bed.

‘I will, thank you.’

Finally, the door was shut. Cecily thought she might cry with relief as she walked the few paces to the large bed and sank onto the mattress. She should undress, of course – her clothes were filthy with dust from the journey – but . . .

Her eyes closed and, with the breeze from the fan gently cooling her hot cheeks, she slept.

‘My darling, it’s time to wake up. You’ll never sleep tonight if you don’t. Besides, I have some friends coming round to meet you in an hour.’

Her godmother’s voice floated through Cecily’s dreams.

‘I’ve had Muratha draw your bath and here’s a