The Maharani's Pearls Read Online Free Page B

his arms around me for a brief moment before
     hurrying to intercept his commanding officer.
    I went out into the passage toward my room, as I’d been ordered—­but I went out the
     window again to look for Simon. I wanted a full account of everything that had happened.
     I knew my father wouldn’t tell me any more than he had, but I could cajole Simon into
     describing the action.
    I spotted him leaving the garden by a roundabout way so that he wouldn’t encounter
     Colonel Haldane, and as I hurried to catch him up, it occurred to me that if I hadn’t
     gone to the fortune-­teller, the Maharani might well be in very real difficulty now.
     But it was Simon who had remembered that the patrol hadn’t been out today, giving
     my father the excuse he needed to act quickly, without consulting the colonel. My
     father ought to promote Simon for that, even if it meant losing him as his batman.
    Busy with my thoughts, I was halfway across the garden before I realized that I hadn’t
     done my duty. I stopped, hesitated, and then turned back to the house. The exciting
     details of the skirmish would have to wait. I needed to find my mother and Miss Stewart,
     to be sure my governess was all right. She was the one who’d suffered most at the
     hands of the man with the scarred face. And she must still be anxious, even though
     the worst was over. I didn’t know if she’d actually fainted, or if she’d been clever
     enough to pretend to. It didn’t matter. She had been terribly brave at a very bad
     time.
    As I clambered back through my window again and started toward the passage door and
     Miss Stewart’s room, one down from mine, I sighed.
    I’d had a far more exciting afternoon than merely going to the village fortune-­teller.
     But I’d been my father’s daughter long enough to know I couldn’t possibly write to
     my friends in England and tell them all about it. What had happened would be hushed
     up, for the Government’s ears only. And to protect the Maharajah.
    I tapped on Miss Stewart’s door, then stepped into the room. She was lying on the
     bed, a cool cloth on her forehead, and some color had returned to her face. She was
     thanking my mother for saving her life. She turned to smile at me.
    “It’s a good thing I sent you to your room,” she said. “You might have been in the
     summerhouse with me, doing your lessons. I just hope you weren’t too frightened, hearing
     what that man made me say to your mother.”
    I glanced up at my mother, then smiled in return. “No, Miss Stewart. I knew my father
     wouldn’t let anything happen to you or her.”
    “There’s my brave girl,” Miss Stewart said approvingly.
    Over her head, my mother, quite relieved, nodded to me.
    Very likely nothing more would be said about my foray into the bazaar to find the
     fortune-­teller. My father, Simon, and Sergeant Barton could be counted on not to
     speak about the rest of the afternoon.
    But a week later a silk-­wrapped packet addressed to me arrived at our door, brought
     by a liveried messenger from the Maharani.
    In the packet was a velvet case holding the loveliest rope of pearls, as fine as any
     I’d ever seen her wear. There was no message in the case, although I did look.
    My mother let me admire them for a time, then closed the case. “When you are older,”
     she said. “It would attract too much attention for you to be seen to wear them at
     your age.”
    It didn’t matter. I understood. And I could guess too why they’d been sent without
     a note. My father had told the Maharani, if no one else, what had really transpired
     that day. I knew he trusted her not to speak of it. I was glad she knew, because I
     cared about her.
    Nothing was said about those events when next she came to call on my mother. It was
     as if nothing had happened since her last visit. Nor did she ask why I wasn’t wearing
     her pearls.
    The End

 
    Read on for a sneak peek at the next Bess Crawford Mystery from Charles