Hervey stopped. ‘You’re sure?’

‘I am. She knows you’re to go to Chintal – oh, perhaps I ought not to have said – but I am sure she wishes to go with you. She knows the ruler is a princess, and that you saved her father’s life.’

He wondered how she knew he was to go; but that was no matter. There was always camp gossip. Nor could he remember what he’d said about his time there; it couldn’t have been much, for Georgiana always complained that he’d never speak of soldiery, unless a parade or some such. Doubtless, though, Corporal Johnson had woven a rich pattern of tales …

‘Well, I’m not altogether sure it would be entirely safe. It’s not the Crown’s territory,’ he said, taking up his stride again.

Annie wouldn’t argue with him on that point; for how could she (though Georgiana had shown herself cool enough when it came to dacoits and pistols)? But her expression was obviously more than mere disappointment.

‘I’ve already told Sir Eyre Somervile that it would be most imprudent for him to come, so I can hardly now say “yes” to Georgiana.’

This, however, seemed to permit her some latitude. ‘I would say, on Miss Hervey’s behalf, Colonel, that women perhaps see country and people different from men, and that this might be of assistance.’

He almost missed his step.

XV

Diplomacy

Later

‘The surgeon to see you, Colonel.’ St Alban laid a sheaf of papers on Hervey’s desk.

It was four o’clock, and the heat of the day, nothing compared with Madras when they’d left, was comfortable without the punkah – a good time for office, however tedious, especially after so diverting a walk.

‘Excellent! I trust he brings no ill news, though,’ said Hervey.

It had been a week and more since he’d seen him (Milne had insisted on visiting each troop, strung out as they were around the Circars), and there were matters of business to discuss, as well as the pleasure of his company.

‘I fancy that no surgeon brings wholly welcome news, Colonel.’

Hervey looked at him quizzically. ‘You are a little sombre, today.’

St Alban looked awkward. ‘Colonel, I have to tell you that Lieutenant Waterman has died.’

‘Oh.’

The death of an officer wearing the same device on his shako – the death of any rank, indeed – was ever a reason for gravity. That he’d not much liked Waterman, and disliked even more the business of Askew, for which he’d held him in part responsible, was by the bye.

‘Of what cause?’

‘I believe that that’s what the surgeon wishes to speak about.’

‘Was it in Bangalore?’

‘No, he’d returned to Madras. I detailed him for the rear party.’

Hervey raised an eyebrow, perplexed: first Channer sending in his papers, suddenly and without explanation (though no loss – indeed, in truth, he was glad of it); but Waterman dead? This was the solution that no one could have wished for.