Barbara Cleverly Read Online Free PDF Page B

with Indian efficiency along with other luggage from the mainline on to the waiting narrow gauge train. For a moment he regretted not keeping the gun tucked away in his belt in spite of the discomfort. He turned his attention back to the open-topped Rolls Royce Phantom and looked and looked again at the two people in the front seats.
    The passenger seat was occupied by an Indian wearing a smartly tailored but dusty chauffeur’s uniform. Hatless and dishevelled, he was holding on to a leather strap, bracing himself as the car came to an abrupt halt at their feet. The driver, a slim figure in khaki trousers and white shirt, applied the handbrake and jumped out to greet them. She took off the borrowed chauffeur’s cap, releasing a shining fall of fair hair, and knocked the cap against her knee to shake off the thick layer of dust.
    ‘Edgar. How nice to see you again.’ Her tone was formal rather than warm and her attention moved rather more quickly than was polite from Edgar to himself.
    ‘And this is your English policeman? Cops finally got wise to you, did they, and put you in custody?’ She stared at Joe with undisguised appreciation, her expression now warm and playful. ‘Well, lucky old you!
    My! If I weren’t already spoken for I’d put my cap right back on and set it at you, mister!’
    ‘Hello, Madeleine,’ said Edgar stiffly. ‘May I present my friend and colleague, Commander Joseph Sandilands? Joe is in India on secondment from Scotland Yard. Joe, this is Madeleine Mercer - as was - now the first wife of Udai’s second son, Prithvi. What the hell are you up to, Madeleine? Still trying to astonish, unnerve and upset? Udai won’t like this display, you know!’ He waved a hand theatrically at the onlookers beginning to gather round the Rolls. ‘Quite a decent crowd you’ve drummed up
    thinking of going round with the hat?’ The sarcastic edge to his voice made Joe uneasy and he waited for Madeleine to reply in kind, but she ignored the gibe, smiled sweetly and put out a hot, sticky hand to shake Joe’s.
    ‘Hello, Joe, and welcome to Ranipur. I’m Maddy. Oh, and I’m not the first wife - I’m the only wife.’
    Clearly there was little respect or liking between these two and Joe thought he could understand this. Loyal as he was to the ruler, Edgar would share his disappointment with the heir to the throne’s odd choice of bride. And Joe suspected that Edgar had an innate mistrust of any woman who did not conform to his idea of her role in society, Indian or British.
    And this was a nonconformist, Joe decided, liking her at once. She was pretty, even beautiful. The first impression of youth and innocence given by the shining blonde hair and widely spaced brown eyes was belied at second glance by the thick straight brows, knowing expression and determined chin. He would have guessed her age as mid-twenties, a year or two younger than himself.
    ‘I’ve never driven a Rolls,’ Joe offered in an effort to distract them from pursuing their show of mutual dislike.
    ‘Have a go on the way back if you like,’ said Madeleine easily.
    ‘Thank you, but I’d hate to wrap it round a peepul tree,’ said Joe. ‘Not had much practice with motor cars. I do rather better with horses.’
    ‘It wouldn’t matter much if you crashed it. My father-in-law’s got nine more like it back home.’ Was there disapproval in her flat American drawl? ’I’ll give you lessons if you like. I’m pretty good, you’ll find.’
    ‘Madeleine’s father was a racing driver,’ Edgar explained. ‘And he passed on his skills - along with his modesty - to his daughter.’
    The disapproval was unmistakable.
    While they talked the chauffeur had taken their hand luggage and stowed it away in the car. He was now standing hopefully by the driver’s door.
    ‘Oh, go on then, Gopal! You’ve had enough excitement for one day, I guess! You can drive us back to the palace,’ said Madeleine. ‘Edgar, you sit in front. I’m going to cosy up with your friend and colleague in the back and