Page 62 of The Sun Sister

‘Good Lord!’ Cecily watched the major’s ruddy cheeks become even ruddier as he glanced at her. ‘Well, well, who’d have thought it, a sweet girl like you...’

‘You know her?’

‘Now then, I would be telling a lie if I said I did, because I’ve never met her in person. But I certainly knowofher. Everyone in Kenya does.’

‘Is she famous there?’

‘Oh yes, her – and her friend Alice de Trafford – are what one might call infamous. The Muthaiga Club in Nairobi was always awash with talk of their capers, and of course, that gorgeous girl Idina Sackville. If I’d been twenty years younger and not married, Idina could certainly have led me astray, and indeed, she did lead many other lucky blighters off the straight and narrow. Her and Joss Errol’s parties were the stuff of legend, you know. And...I say, I’m pretty sure it was your godmother, Kiki, who was known as the girl with the silver needle.’

‘You mean, she sewed?’ Cecily’s head was positively spinning.

‘I’m sure she had plenty of Negroes to do that for her, but...’ The major stared at Cecily’s nervous expression. ‘Well now, m’dear, I’m sure a lot of it was merely gossip, and besides, it was almost twenty years ago when I was there. I’m sure all concerned have calmed down from their youthful shenanigans.’

‘It sounds like they had a lot of fun out there.’

‘Oh yes, I’ll say.’ The major wiped his mouth with his napkin. ‘Rather sadly, my brother wasn’t part of that set – more interested in his cattle than getting up to high jinks at Muthaiga Club. We did enjoy some jolly good nights there nevertheless. Well now, you must look up my brother while you’re there. I’ll leave his name and address with Audrey. Mind you, he’s not hard to find – just ask for Bill and you’ll be pointed in the right direction.’

‘You said he runs a cattle farm?’

‘Indeed. Funny old stick, my brother,’ the major mused. ‘Never married and seems to spend rather a lot of time out on the plains with the Maasai tribe. He was always a bit of a loner, even as a child. Now, Miss Huntley-Morgan, tell me a little about you.’

Cecily was almost dropping with fatigue when the last guest finally left and she was able to say her goodnights and walk wearily up the endless staircase. She was just about to open the door to her room when a hand was placed on her shoulder. Letting out a small scream, she turned round to find Julius grinning at her.

‘I was just coming to check if all your teeth were still in place after that ghastly pheasant.’

‘Holy moly! You scared me half to death, creeping up on me like that!’

‘My apologies, Cecily, but before you retire, I wanted to ask if by any chance you ride?’

‘Why, yes, I do. We have horses on our estate in the Hamptons. I love it, even though I’m not sure my riding is terribly polite.’

‘I’m not sure how riding can be “polite”, but never mind. I normally go out early for a charge across the Downs. Blows away the cobwebs so I can sit down to a morning’s work. If you fancy joining me, I’ll be in the stables at seven tomorrow morning. If there isn’t any fog, of course.’

‘I’d love to, Julius, but I don’t have a thing to wear.’

‘I’ll ask Doris to lay out some jodhpurs and boots. There’s an entire wardrobe full of them from guests who have left them behind over the years. There’s sure to be something in your size. Until tomorrow, maybe,’ he smiled at her.

‘Yes. Goodnight, Julius.’

Ten minutes later, although hugely relieved to be horizontal (albeit on a mattress that must have been stuffed until it was stiff with horsehair), Cecily couldn’t sleep. And her damned heart began thumping every time she thought about Julius.

She just didn’t understand it. She’d been sure she’d been in love with Jack for all of her life, but never had her mindandher body reacted like this to a man. Julius wasn’t even her type – she’d always found blonds far more attractive, whereas he was dark, almost Mediterranean-looking. Never mind his easy attitude towards her...She definitely did not approve of his innuendo, especially given the fact that they’d only met this evening. It was as if he hadn’t a care for what anyone thought of him...

Why should he? And more to the point, why should I?

Eventually, Cecily dozed fitfully, her dreams full of women wielding huge silver sewing needles against spear-holding natives, and Julius being mauled by a lion...

Cecily woke with a jump and sat upright. Getting straight out of bed, she ran to pull back the curtains to see if it was foggy. With a clench in her stomach, she saw that it was a glorious, crisp morning. The vast parkland that ran as far as the eye could see was still white with frost, which was sure to melt soon judging by the perfect rosy sunrise that peeked out above the endless rows of chestnut trees that bounded the formal gardens.

‘Someone should write an opera about this view,’ she murmured as there was a knock on the door and Doris arrived with a tea tray.

‘Did you sleep well, miss?’

‘Oh yes, perfectly, thank you, Doris.’

‘Shall I pour for you?’

‘No, I can do it myself.’