Kate and Julia: Abducted in India (2 page)

BOOK: Kate and Julia: Abducted in India
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“No harm done,” the redhead continued. “We’ll have a story about our night in a brothel to tell next time we want to shock someone, and we both escaped with our honour intact.” She giggled again. “As intact as it was before, anyway.” She had to guide her door key into the lock with both hands.

Blushingly bidding Kate goodnight, Julia turned to her own room and noticed the slender figure of Subaidah, her employer’s Turkish servant girl, peeping from a doorway. Mrs. Winter certainly was protective of her charges, Julia thought, though as far as Kate was concerned she was a self-appointed guardian.

They had met the redhead on the same day the ship had sailed from Southampton and she had attached herself to them ever since, even after they had docked at Bombay. It had taken Mrs. Winter several of the days they had spent journeying north by train to coax from Kate the reason for her reluctance to go straight home to Delhi, but once she had learned it she had made no attempt to dissuade the girl from her chosen course of action. Perhaps she had recognised that with Kate’s independent spirit she would have been wasting her time, or maybe just that as she was over twenty-one she had every right to do as she pleased. Whatever the reason, Mrs. Winter had seemed content to let Kate share her company and that of Julia, even allowing the girls time to themselves in the hotel bar that evening, though Julia was sure she would express her disapproval at them going out when she found out about it.

She carefully took off her one and only evening gown and put it on its hanger in the wardrobe, and then sat on the bed to remove her shoes and silk stockings with equal care. If Mrs. Winter did not seem to be very well off, Julia knew herself to be virtually impoverished. She hoped when the woman’s business in India was done and they returned to England she might keep her on as a lady’s companion instead of a travelling one. Work in Britain was growing ever more scarce and Julia had no skills or qualifications that could help her get another job. She had never imagined she would need one.

She leaned back on her elbows, suddenly very sensitive to the movement of her breasts against the sheer silk of her chemise. Her mind felt as if it was spinning even faster than the dancing girls had on the stage. It had been in a constant whirl since the moment she had stepped ashore and found her senses continually assailed by some startling new sight or sound or smell as they had traversed the enormous expanse of the Indian sub-continent.

It was vastly different to anything Julia had ever experienced, a strange mixture of the modern and the very ancient. There were hot, noisy, crowded cities like Bombay, and Ahmadabad where they had journeyed on their first day. Then there was the countryside she had seen from the train, its appearance and people perhaps hardly changed for a thousand years. On the way from Rawalpindi to Peshawar the peaks of the Himalayas had been visible in the distance, though it had been no cooler for all they were almost in the foothills of the mountains. Julia could hardly believe she was really seeing places that had been no more than colourful names in her school geography lessons. She had never expected to experience anything like the train journey of over a thousand miles. Everything seemed exotic, mysterious and unsettling, and not at all like the familiar, comfortable existence she had known for most of her life in England.

Very soon their outward trip would be at an end. Tomorrow, Mrs.

Winter had informed her, they would travel by car and then for another day on horseback before they arrived at their destination. As always at bedtime, Julia’s stomach gave a little wriggle of apprehension about what the next morning might bring, though she was less aware of it than usual because of the swimming in her head. She gave a sudden jerk and realized she would fall asleep where she was if she did not get up.

The bulb in the bedside lamp was rather feeble and its light did not reach much beyond the space around the bed, but Julia could see well enough to get to the washstand. She swayed unsteadily as she brushed her teeth, wondering fuzzily if it was worth the effort of getting out of her underwear and into her nightdress before going to bed. Why had she let Kate talk her into drinking all that champagne? She was going to wake up with an awful headache in the morning.

Julia laid her toothbrush down and squinted at her dim reflection in the mirror on the washstand. Over her right shoulder a dark shadow seemed to rise up from a corner of the room. Puzzled, she blinked and began to turn. An arm suddenly wrapping itself tightly around her filled her hazy mind with alarm. She opened her mouth and drew breath to cry out. A thick cloth clamped over her face, stifling her scream and filling her nostrils with a heavy, stupefying odour. Julia had smelled that scent once before. The thought flickered vaguely through her head in the split second before she slipped into unconsciousness.

*

Penelope Winter opened her eyes, stretched, yawned and glanced at the bedside clock. Eight twenty-five, it showed. Penny flung the sheet back and let the draught from the ceiling fan waft over her bare skin. A shiver ran through her, not because the air was cool but because she had remembered how close she was to her goal. In a few more days she would see the turn-around in her fortunes she had been longing for for the last four years.

Ignoring the ivory cigarette holder she affected in public, Penny took one of her Turkish cigarettes from her silver case, lit it with the matching lighter and blew a stream of smoke up at the fan overhead.

Lord, how she had yearned for the time when she would no longer have to count every shilling she spent! And it seemed now that things were going to turn out even better than she had hoped. She had been so confident everything was going her way that she had sent a letter to the prince while she was in Rawalpindi, to tell him of the advantageous change in circumstances that had occurred.

Penny drew on her cigarette, refusing to allow the little pang of regret that suddenly nagged at her to spoil her sense of satisfaction. She reminded herself that her own future comfort and security must be her priority. The draught from the fan was causing a tickle amongst the light brown curls at her crotch. It seemed she would have to have Subaidah trim her pubic hair again, but it could wait until she and the girls were safely in Dhokat.

She reached down to rub the springy hairs on the swell of her love-mound and felt another kind of tickle as one fingertip brushed the fleshy little bump at the apex of her pussy. This was no time to be thinking about sex, Penny told herself impatiently. In fact, it was not something she had had much time for since Tom’s death had left her with the mess of his disastrous finances to live with. Grudgingly, she admitted she had contributed to his debts with her extravagant lifestyle, but it could hardly be said to be her fault. If he had told her they were bankrupt she would have been more careful. And if he had not been so irresponsible and made no provision whatever for her in the event of his death, she would not be in her present position.

Penny did not cover herself when Subaidah entered with her usual morning cup of tea. The young Turkish girl was her personal servant and used to seeing her naked. Suddenly eager to be on her way and have her business concluded, Penny drank the tea quickly and finished her cigarette. She did not bother to go to the shared bathroom at the end of the corridor but had Subaidah sponge her down at the washstand. By the time she walked back from the bathroom, the effort would have her sweating again. At least here in Peshawar the heat did not come with the humidity it did in Rawalpindi.

While the servant girl ran the sponge over her skin, Penny eyed her nakedness in the mirror. She had looked after herself and it showed in her reflection. At five feet nine she was tall for one of her sex. Her long legs were one of the things that had helped her become such a success in society after her coming-out as a debutante at the age of eighteen. She had not yet lost the beauty that had seen her declared a diamond of the first water by all the eligible and not so eligible bachelors who had shared the constant round of balls and parties she had attended during her years on the social scene.

Her breasts were not quite as firm as when she was younger, Penny was forced to admit, but they were far from being slack and saggy, and if her buttocks were a little fuller they had remained firm and well-rounded.

Her belly might not be as flat as in her youth, but it too had not yet yielded to the ravages of time. Penny had seen plenty of women much younger than her thirty-one years who had every reason to envy her face and figure. She would even stand comparison to the two lovely young girls who were accompanying her, she thought, as she shook her head at the satin brassiere Subaidah was holding out to her “I’ll go without,” Penny told the servant with a sudden mischievous excitement she had not felt for several years. “The damned things make me itch in this heat.” She checked the time and saw it was past quarter to nine. Julia had usually called on her to accompany her to breakfast by now, but no matter. She had let her and Kate stay up later than usual the night before and given them some time to themselves.

Though the young redhead was inclined to be impulsive and somewhat outspoken, Mrs. Winter had been confident that the much more reticent Julia would curb any waywardness on Kate’s part. Perhaps a little too confident, she mused, turning sideways to confirm there was only the slightest outward curvature to her smooth-skinned abdomen.

She had been worried when she had learned the girls had left the hotel with a group of young officers from the garrison, and greatly relieved when Subaidah had reported their safe return a little after midnight. Still, she had been right to let them have some fun on their own. There would be little chance of that once they reached Dhokat.

Penny decided on a cream silk chemise with matching lace-trimmed French knickers and a white, Indian calico skirt and jacket. The outer garments dated to the last time she had been in India but they were still in good condition. It was unfortunate she could not afford to buy new, more fashionable ones but she had more than enough creditors back in England without adding to the list. That, however, was all about to change. The sense of satisfaction that she had been feeling ever more frequently since arriving in India filled Penny again. She lit another cigarette and looked at the clock.

“You had better go and wake the young ladies,” she told the servant. “The car is due to collect us at ten thirty.” She sat on the bed, slipped her low-heeled white pumps onto her feet and smoked contentedly while she waited for her servant to rouse the girls.

Subaidah rushed into the room, her pretty face twisted with anxiety. Penny’s stomach turned over even before the servant spoke.

“Mistress, the girls are not there.”

Penny hurried from the room even more quickly than Subaidah had entered it. She had to see for herself. She found the dress Julia had been wearing hanging in the wardrobe and the girl’s silk stockings discarded on the bed, which had plainly not been slept in. Kate’s evening gown lay over the foot of another bed that had seen no use the night before. There were no signs of a struggle in either of the girls’ rooms but Penny was in no doubt what had happened. They had been abducted, and from right under her nose.

“Damn, damn, damn!” she swore. As a former army wife she knew much coarser words but had schooled herself not to use them, even when she was alone.

“What will you do, Mistress, go to the police?” Subaidah asked as they returned to Mrs. Winter’s room and Penny suppressed her mounting apprehension and gathered her thoughts.

“No, I don’t want to involve the authorities unless it becomes absolutely necessary,” she said. “I am the one responsible for those two girls. They were under my protection and it’s up to me to get them back.” She slipped her cigarette holder, case and lighter into her handbag and took out the Colt .32 automatic pistol nestling between her handkerchief and powder compact. With her lips a firm, determined line Penny checked its load. “And lord help anyone who gets in my way.”

The Indian at the hotel’s reception desk claimed he knew nothing, until five rupees appeared in Mrs. Winter’s hand and then he recalled seeing two sahibs who were not regular customers in the bar the previous night.

“Sahibs?” Penny demanded. “White men? Europeans?”

“British sahibs,” the man confirmed, “and military men, I would say.”

He would likely know, Penny thought, Peshawar being a garrison town, but it seemed highly unlikely that two soldiers were involved in abducting Julia and Kate. Slavery and slave markets were common features of Indian life, despite the efforts by the British Raj to stamp them out, but the underground business was usually controlled by native Indians. She parted grudgingly with her money, only half-convinced that the man was not involved in the girls’ kidnapping himself and making up the story to throw her off the scent. There was one man who would know.

Penny went outside, summoned a bicycle rickshaw and told its owner where she wanted to go. Barely haggling over the price, she climbed in and fumed at every delay the crowded streets and busy traffic created. Her stomach felt empty but it was not the lack of her breakfast that was causing it. The girls were in her care. It was up to her to see that they reached Dhokat in safety. And she had very little time in which to do it.

Though Penny recognised the Indian servant who answered the door to the large white house, it was clear that he did not remember her.

She gave her name, and waited impatiently in the cool of the entrance hall while he carried it to his master. The servant was back in under a minute to lead her into a large dining room with French doors that looked out over a green and shady garden.

“Well, I’m blessed, it is you! I hardly believed it when Ranjit told me. How are you, Penelope?”

Penny glanced around the expensively furnished room before meeting the eye of the man sitting at the table. “Well enough, thank you.

You seem to be enjoying continuing success.”

BOOK: Kate and Julia: Abducted in India
13.57Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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