The Sapphire Child (The Raj Hotel #2) - Janet MacLeod Trotter Page 0,34

but . . .’

‘Go on,’ Stella encouraged.

‘I think she likes the idea of me more than the real me.’ He shrugged. ‘I can’t seem to do the right thing – I just annoy her. She tells off Grandmamma too, but she’s too good-natured to take offence. And I hate the way she’s always saying snide things about Dad. I wish she wouldn’t. I really want to please Mamma – she’s paid for this holiday and she’s really generous—’ He broke off with a sigh.

Stella rubbed his arm comfortingly. ‘She’s not the easiest person to please, is she?’

Andrew nodded, feeling a twinge of guilt that he was being so critical of his mother.

‘Can’t she find some boys your own age among her friends’ families?’ Stella suggested.

‘Not so far.’ Andrew rolled his eyes. ‘Just girls with dolls.’

Stella gave a sympathetic smile. ‘Well, perhaps you should ask her – or suggest it to your grandmother? I’m sure Mrs Templeton would understand.’

Andrew nodded, encouraged.

Stella reached for her wet cardigan and got to her feet. ‘I need a hot bath. Come on, let’s go.’

He watched her walk on ahead, her wet skirt sticking to her shapely legs, which were splashed with mud.

He wished she was allowed to join them for meals – that his mother would treat her like family in the way his father did – but Stella never complained. He should just be glad she was on the trip with him and enjoy the moments he could spend with her. It was impossible to imagine a summer when Stella would not be around, though he supposed if she fell in love and got married then that time might come.

What if Irishman Hugh tracked Stella down to the Raj and proposed to her? She would go off to Baluchistan or maybe further away – back to Ireland even – and he might never see her again. Andrew felt an ache in his chest at the idea.

Quickly dismissing it, he headed after her, and as she walked towards the back of the house, he walked into the front and took the polished stairs up to his room two at a time.

Chapter 13

After dinner, Stella joined the family in the drawing room. She sat mending clothes and sewing on buttons for the household while Andrew played cards with his grandmother and Lydia worked her way through half a decanter of sherry. Stella felt a tension in the air. She knew Lydia was ruminating on something; she’d been frosty with her all evening. Andrew kept exchanging anxious glances with Stella, which made her think he’d probably been the object of his mother’s waspish tongue at dinner.

Lydia drained off her fourth sherry and finally addressed her. ‘So, Andrew tells me you went to The Anchorage today, Stella. I thought you were spending the day helping the servants.’

‘Miss MacAlpine said she didn’t need me and told me to go out. I hope you don’t mind, but I borrowed an old bike from the garage.’

‘The bicycle’s the least of my worries.’ Lydia waved a dismissive hand. ‘I’m more concerned about your rash behaviour. Did Tibby send you an invitation to call?’

‘Not specifically,’ Stella admitted. ‘But when we first arrived, Miss Lomax said to visit anytime.’

Lydia regarded her with cold blue eyes. ‘I’m sure she only meant with Andrew. I must say I think it rather presumptuous of you to call on Tibby – you’re just the nanny – and you went without my son and with no prior arrangement – and without my permission.’

‘I didn’t know I needed your permission, Mrs Lomax.’ Stella tried to steady her thumping heart.

‘Of course you do,’ Lydia snapped. ‘I’m responsible for you while you’re over here. But as soon as my back is turned, you’re gallivanting off on your own to a place with a dubious reputation.’

‘Dearest,’ interjected Minnie, putting down her cards, ‘The Anchorage is perfectly respectable. Tibby may be a little eccentric but I’m sure she didn’t mind Stella calling. There’s no harm done.’

‘We don’t know what she got up to!’ Lydia exclaimed, her face florid with indignation. ‘Tibby fills that place with odd men. Stella took a great risk going there alone.’

‘I’m sorry,’ said Stella, trying to defuse the situation. ‘I didn’t mean to make you worry. It was thoughtless of me and I won’t do it again.’

Lydia seemed mollified. ‘I should think not. I’m just thinking of your own well-being, Stella, that’s all.’ Abruptly, her mood lightened. ‘Is the house still falling to pieces?’ she asked. ‘I haven’t been in