The Sun Sister (The Seven Sisters #6) - Lucinda Riley Page 0,78

see what’s beyond the trees,’ she said, indicating the boundary that had been planted around the gardens and house. ‘What’s there?’

‘On one side there is a cattle farm, and on the other the memsahib keep her horses. If you wish to ride after breakfast, I can arrange a good horse for you.’

A sudden image jumped into Cecily’s head of riding out with Julius across the frozen English parkland, then lighting a makeshift fire in the folly and warming up together in front of it.

‘Maybe another time, Aleeki. I’m still a little tired today.’

‘Of course, memsahib. You wish for eggs now?’

‘No thanks,’ she murmured, the memory of Julius washing the beauty and calm of her first morning in Kenya clean away.

It was two in the afternoon before Cecily glimpsed her godmother strolling onto the veranda. She’d spent the past few hours alone in her room, avoiding the intense noon sun and doing her best to take photographs of the view from the vantage point of her window. She would have to find somewhere to get them developed so she could send them home to her family. She’d written them a long letter on the thick vellum paper Aleeki had provided for her, documenting (most) of her adventures so far. The process had left her tearful on occasions; home had never felt so far away as it did right now.

‘Cecily, darling! Are you sleeping?’ called a loud voice from beneath the window.

Well, if I was, I’d certainly be awake now . . .

She poked her head outside. ‘No, I was writing home to my parents.’

‘Then come down at once!’

‘Of course.’ With a sigh, Cecily grabbed the letter and headed downstairs.

‘Champagne?’ said Kiki as Cecily approached the table on the veranda. Her godmother sat alone, a bottle in an ice bucket and a pack of Lucky Strikes apparently her only sustenance.

‘No thank you, I’m still full from lunch.’

‘Please accept my apologies, honey,’ Kiki sighed, taking a large slug of champagne and a draw on her cigarette holder. ‘The party went on late last night.’

Cecily didn’t think Kiki looked sorry at all.

‘So, what did you think of my friends? I hope they were nice to you. I certainly told them to be.’

‘Oh, they were all very kind, thank you.’

‘Well, you were a hit with Alice. She’s asked us over to tea at Wanjohi Farm tomorrow. Did you like her?’

‘Why, yes, she was certainly interesting—’

‘Oh, she’s that, all right. You know that a few years ago, Alice was on trial for shooting her lover in Paris at a railway station?’

‘Oh my! That was her?’ Cecily remembered her mother’s mention of the scandal.

‘The very one. Luckily she shot him in Paris, the city that understands love, and didn’t go to jail for attempted murder. She is seriously crazy and I just adore her.’

‘She did tell me that she once had a pet lion cub.’

‘Dear little Samson, yes . . . She only let him go when he was eating two zebras a week.’ Kiki took another mouthful of champagne. ‘So, Aleeki has been looking after you?’

‘Oh yes, he’s marvellous,’ Cecily agreed. ‘I was wondering whether it was possible to post this letter to my parents?’

‘That’s no problem at all. Give it to Aleeki and he’ll see to it for you.’

‘Okay. Where is the nearest town to here?’

‘Depends what you want to do or buy. Gilgil is the nearest, but it’s a mighty dump with a railroad that runs right through it. Then there’s Nairobi, of course, where we landed yesterday, and Nyeri, which is some distance from here, on the other side of the Aberdare Mountains, but it’s popular with the Wanjohi Valley lot.’

‘Wanjohi Valley?’

‘Where most of the crowd who were here last night live, including Alice. You’ll see it tomorrow when we drive up for tea with her. Now, I’m not feeling so great today – like you, I’m probably suffering from the effects of our journey, on top of the bronchitis. Aleeki can show you the library if you need a book to read, and we’ll meet for dinner at eight tonight, okay?’

‘Okay.’

As if by magic, for there was no physical gesture Cecily could discern, Aleeki appeared by his mistress’s side. Kiki stood up, took his arm and walked back into the house.

As Cecily dressed for dinner that night, she thought about all the things she knew – or had overheard – about her godmother: that she was an heiress and, more importantly, related to both the Vanderbilts and the Whitney family. She’d divorced