The Sapphire Child (The Raj Hotel #2) - Janet MacLeod Trotter Page 0,20

haven’t been drinking alcohol.’

Andrew’s flush deepened. ‘Just a few sips.’

‘Mr Keating!’ Stella rebuked. ‘What were you thinking? He’s only thirteen.’

‘Is he?’ Hugh looked aghast. ‘He doesn’t look it. I thought he was sixteen—’

‘Oops,’ said Moira, pulling a mock-serious face. ‘Everyone’s in trouble. And I’m supposed to be the chaperone. Naughty me.’

Stella gave Andrew a stern look. ‘From now on I’m watching you like a hawk.’

‘Don’t be too hard on the lad,’ said Hugh. ‘And we don’t want to keep you off the dance floor, Miss Dubois. I promise you it won’t happen again. Will it, Andrew?’

Andrew shook his head. He felt utterly humiliated. He itched to be on land again playing cricket or out riding. He experienced a stab of homesickness for Gulmarg. He hadn’t been gone a fortnight and he was missing home.

Stella brushed his hand as if guessing his state of mind. ‘How about we sit inside and write letters home while it’s too hot to do anything else? Then perhaps Mr Keating will give you a game of quoits later.’

Andrew saw a look pass between Stella and Hugh and wondered what it meant. Was she challenging the Irishman to behave more responsibly?

Andrew stood up, eager to leave and just be with Stella.

‘See you for a sundowner,’ Moira called as they walked away.

Stella found it hard to concentrate on writing a letter home. What would she tell her parents or the Lomaxes about the first week at sea? That it was as if they were travelling unchaperoned? That by the time she’d recovered from horrendous seasickness Andrew was under the influence of a handsome, irresponsible cabin-mate who encouraged him to drink whisky? That she, Stella, had spent the past couple of days neglecting Andrew in favour of the dance floor and keeping company with Moira Jessop, a failed governess with a racy reputation? Least of all could she tell them she was drawn like a magnet to that same cabin-mate, a charming, fun Irishman with a broad smile and dark-blue eyes. Any of these things would send her mother and father rushing for the vapours, and the Lomaxes regretting having sent her at all.

So she wrote a subtly censored version about playing deck quoits and reading in the library; of how friendly their chaperone was, and that Andrew was well and eating heartily.

She looked across the table at Andrew labouring over a single page of the ship’s headed writing paper. He’d hardly written more than two sentences. Was he really as okay as she hoped or had he drunk too much last night to mask his unhappiness? Since he’d unburdened himself to her about his anxiety that his father was somehow rejecting him – as well as his fears of meeting his formidable mother – Andrew had appeared to be in good spirits. But perhaps he was still troubled. She would have to keep a closer eye on him; after all, that was what the Lomaxes had entrusted her with.

Andrew chewed his pen and glanced at her with bloodshot eyes.

Stella laughed. ‘You look terrible. Shall we go and find some lime juice and leave the writing till later?’

Andrew grinned at her in relief, already half out of his chair. ‘Oh, yes please, Stella!’

She gathered up their half-hearted attempts at correspondence and followed him out.

Hugh took Stella aside after dinner. ‘Will you come on deck with me, Miss Dubois? I feel I owe you an explanation.’ When Stella hesitated and glanced over at Andrew, Hugh persisted. ‘The lad’s going to get an early night. Please, come with me – just for a few minutes.’

Stella nodded. ‘Just a few minutes then.’

Her heart thumped as she walked with him and tried not to keep glancing at his face; the straight nose, the dimpled chin and the sweep of wavy brown hair that made her want to run her fingers over its undulations. He’d become adept at going up and down stairs with only one crutch, so Stella carried the other one until they were out on deck. He led her towards the rail and leaned against it.

‘Look at those stars,’ he said, gazing up in wonder. ‘Have you ever seen such a sight?’

‘Yes, loads of times,’ she said. ‘The night sky over the Himalayas can be even brighter.’

Hugh laughed. ‘Oh, Miss Dubois, I love your candour. It’s so refreshing. Too many women just agree with men out of politeness.’

Stella blushed. She didn’t think she’d said anything out of the ordinary. The way he was looking at her keenly made her pulse