I suspected that the maharaja’s rather sadistic sense of humour would not permit a gentle glide across the floor, and indeed, the band instantly set off on one of the more vigorous modern dance-steps. I shook my head.

“Perhaps we’d best go and see how your mother is,” I suggested in a firm voice. The relief with which Sunny seized on this escape would have been funny, if the very idea of laughter hadn’t been so physically repugnant.

We found a servant to lead us to the Goodheart rooms, where Sunny did not argue overmuch with her mother’s prescription of early bed. I, too, escaped the dance terrace, despite the opportunity for asking questions of half-stunned individuals ripe for indiscretion. With the amount of sleep my distended abdomen would be allowing me this night, the seven o’clock ride would come all too soon.

Chapter Sixteen

A set of riding clothes awaited me in the morning, although all I took from the laden tray that accompanied them was a single cup of tea. I moistened my long, mistreated hair with some almond oil that I had bought in the Simla market and bound the plaits closely to my head. The jodhpur trousers I had asked for fit well, and the boots, although somewhat loose around the calves, were long enough not to cramp my toes. I stretched my arms and shoulders against the shirt and jacket, finding the fit just loose enough for free movement, and put on the gloves (snug but long enough) but left the spurs where they lay. I then picked up the hat sent for the purpose, a sort of fabric-wrapped topee, and presented myself to the waiting chuprassi.

The servant led me into the gardens, where more servants and a motorcar stood waiting.

“How far is it to the stables?” I asked. I’d seen the map and didn’t think it far. “Can’t we walk?”

“Certainly, memsahib.” The man closed the motorcar door obediently. “It takes fifteen minutes only.”

We went out of the gate and into the morning sun, where I stopped to raise my face to the welcome warmth. Directly across from me, separated by the chasm of cliffs and road, were the gates of the Old Fort. The doors themselves stood open, although there was no sign of life there. Weeds sprouted from the walls, and from potholes in the narrow track climbing from the road.