He was in no hurry to make the rendezvous. It was rare that he had opportunity to spend even a little time with Georgiana. She’d grown to age – well, almost to age – in his absence. Even their letters had been infrequent. Indeed, there were probably letters of several past years that were still on the high seas or at some distant post office trying vainly to deliver themselves – an ever-onward stern chase.

They strolled and chatted for a quarter of an hour – nothing of consequence: Granite, peacocks, the palace silks, but it didn’t matter; they spoke easily. Strange that it should have to be in so distant and alien a place. He couldn’t recall even five minutes of strolling in England – only occasionally some purposeful rush to see this or that, although there’d been those few days at Hounslow, when Kezia had been prostrated, and she and Elizabeth had come to stay (and when Annie had proved her true worth). How long might they have together, now, in India? ‘The exigencies of the service’ – there would be those well enough. And then the marriage market, though still just a distant prospect, surely – it had to be considered (and the market here unthinkable) …

They saw the Ranee come through the grove of fig trees to sit by the lotus pond that collected the water from the lower fountains when they were in play. At a respectful distance behind were the rissaldar and one of the ladies of the court.

There was good light still – half an hour at least.

‘Do you recognize who it is that attends – the lady, I mean? One of your party today?’

‘Yes, it’s Mira Bai. She spoke to me at the sewing. The one I told you of, the wife of the colonel. Her English is at times a little uncertain, but she understands and can make herself understood.’

Hervey smiled to himself. It was a well-laid plan. Whether a plan to trap or to reassure was the question.

‘Did you form any opinion of her?’

‘No, not really, but she was kind to take such pains to speak to me.’

Or cunning? he wondered.

They strolled on – if observed, a stroll to a chance encounter.

‘Why, Colonel Hervey, and Miss Hervey,’ said the Ranee, smiling as she rose.

‘Good evening, Your Highness,’ said Hervey, bowing. Georgiana curtsied. Suneyla took her hand as she rose, then offered hers to Hervey.

‘I like to come here at this time of day, when I am able. There is much peace. It is strange, but sometimes a snake will come to drink also, even a krait or a cobra, and I have no fear of them, for in their need of water they show their helplessness, just as you or I.’

Helpless: such an intriguing word – calculating, even? Colonel Bell had spoken of the snake pit, and Suneyla’s message (the hamadryads in the forest being nothing to the court here) – what to make of it? Was a woman’s life and liberty ever at the pleasure of men? Was that why women had their wiles? The apple, the serpent, the woman … the garden of Eden, here.