Love and Death Among the Cheetahs

by Rhys Bowen

  “Oh, well done, Georgiana,” called Babe’s voice. “That’s the ticket.”

  Apparently I had stolen the ball. But Squibbs would not rest on his laurels. He charged against the opposition again. This time my mallet caught up with Tusker Eggerton’s.

  “Steady on, old girl,” he shouted as I nearly toppled him from the saddle.

  “I’m frightfully sorry,” I called back.

  “Don’t apologize,” Harry Ragg shouted. “Brilliant play. Perfectly legitimate.” He swung his pony close to mine. “I must say you’re a little firecracker. Glad you’re on our team.”

  I managed to stay in my seat and we won the match. By a miracle I didn’t unseat the heir to the throne and have him trampled to death. I was congratulated as I slid gratefully from the saddle.

  “Well played, young Georgie,” David said as he led his mount beside mine. “Too bad girls aren’t welcome at our club in England.”

  I gave a silent prayer of thanks. Mrs. Simpson pushed her way through the crowd and the horses and took his arm. “Let someone else take care of the horse, David,” she said. “I’ve been without you for too long, and I’m dying of boredom. Such a stupid infantile game.”

  “Oh no, Wallis, it’s jolly good fun,” David said as she dragged him off.

  As they walked away I thought I heard her say, “Well, make the most of it because when we’re married . . .” And the rest of the conversation was lost in the crowd.

  I found, to my embarrassment, that I was absolutely exhausted. I was finding it hard to breathe and was quite dizzy. For a horrible moment I thought I might faint. Diddy came to my rescue. “Are you all right?” she asked.

  “I don’t know why I’m so wiped out,” I said.

  She smiled. “It’s the altitude. It takes a while to get used to. We are at eight thousand feet after all. Just take it easy for a couple of days and go light on the alcohol. Here, let me take care of your pony. You go and join the others and have some lunch.”

  I let her lead Squibbs away. A long table had been set up with a magnificent spread on it: salads, smoked trout, cold meats, fruits that were unknown to me. And at one end were glasses of champagne. I watched Mrs. Simpson lead David up to the veranda, away from the rest of us, and I remembered that I had been commissioned by the queen to keep an eye on them. I went over to Lord Delamere.

  “Lord Delamere,” I began hesitantly.

  “Tom, please,” he said. “We’re quite informal here. Otherwise I’d have to call you Lady Georgiana and that’s such a mouthful. Besides, you outrank me. And I don’t like being reminded of that.”

  “I’m only the wife of an Honorable these days,” I said and he smiled.

  “Good chap, your Darcy. I’ve met him before.”

  The fact that he knew Darcy and everyone spoke highly of him made me decide to take him into my confidence.

  “I have a favor to ask,” I said in a low voice. “When the queen knew I was coming out here she asked me to keep an eye on the Prince of Wales.”

  He looked amused. “What did she expect you to do—guard him from wild beasts?”

  “Exactly,” I said. “At least one wild beast. It’s his lady friend. The queen fears that her divorce from her latest husband has now gone through and she’s terrified they will get married in secret and then present the marriage as a fait accompli.”

  Tom Delamere actually laughed. “And you’re supposed to leap in and stop it?”

  I laughed too. “I can hardly see myself doing that, can you?”

  “Anyway, you don’t need to worry,” he said. “Because I’m the justice of the peace around here so they would need me to marry them. And that’s just not going to happen. So relax and enjoy your honeymoon.”

  “I hope so,” I said. “It all seems rather . . . unsettling out here.”

  “The wildlife, you mean?”

  “Both human and animal.”

  He laughed again. “Yes, we are rather wild. At least some of us. But you have the dashing Darcy to protect you. You don’t need to worry.”

  “That’s true,” I said and suddenly I felt a whole lot better. Darcy was here. I really did have nothing to worry about.

  Chapter 15

  AUGUST 11

  Heading for Idina’s house, called Clouds. I’m a little worried about this. Even Darcy seemed reluctant and he normally loves a good party. But Idina seemed very nice and if other people drink too much then we don’t have to. Furthermore I’ve just discovered that one stays the night so we don’t have to drive back in the dark, which had been one of my concerns. So all is good.

  “Is Idina’s house far away?” I asked Diddy.

  “Right at the other end of the valley. A good fifteen miles I’d say.”

  “Oh, so how are we going to get there?” I asked. “It’s a long way for one of your staff to drive us.”

  “Darlings, I’ll give you the motorcar for the night. I won’t be going anywhere and Cyril has declared he has had enough of Idina’s high jinks.”

  “Always the same high jinks, which makes it terribly boring,” Cyril said. “Not my cup of tea, at all. Besides, I promised I’d show that Mr. Van Horn a little of our Kenyan wildlife.”

  I saw Darcy look up sharply. “You’ll be driving him?”

  “Freddie Blanchford has volunteered to drive. I’ll just be the knowledgeable guide. Nothing too taxing: a few elephants, hippos, that sort of thing. Nothing he doesn’t already have in South Africa, but he made a comment that their wildlife was superior so I felt the honor of Kenya was at stake.”

  “What was he like?” Darcy asked. “It was good of you to talk to him.”

  “A little pedantic, if you ask me. As so many Afrikaners are. And opinionated on the virtues of South Africa and its treatment of the native tribes versus our handling of them. He thinks we’re too soft.”

  “Did he talk to you about his work at all?” Darcy asked. “What line of business is he in?”

  “Real estate, I believe. He travels to Europe selling properties to rich Europeans.”

  “Real estate?” I started to say, and got a warning look from Darcy.

  “Oh, so he’s come here to speculate on our property, has he?” Diddy asked.

  “He claims it’s a holiday, but one never knows.” Cyril smiled. “I must say young Freddie is taking good care of him. I told Freddie I’d be happy to drive him around in my ancient safari vehicle but Freddie said he was on the spot and it would save me driving down to Gilgil.”

  We went to our room to pack for the night.

  “I thought you were sure he was in diamonds,” I said to Darcy as soon as we had closed our door. “Is it possible you’ve got the wrong man?”

  “Not at all. He clearly doesn’t want to reveal his true identity. Smart of Freddie to volunteer to drive them.”

  “But Cyril can’t be mixed up in your jewel theft, can he?” I asked. “He’s been here all the time.”

  “That’s true,” Darcy admitted thoughtfully. “But he seemed rather eager to chat with the man this morning, which I felt was a little out of character.”

  “If he had the jewel he could have passed it over while we were playing polo,” I said. “Then they wouldn’t want to meet again.”

  “Again that’s true. But there is something going on I’m not quite sure about.”

  “Perhaps Freddie has enlisted Cyril to work for the government.”

  Darcy chuckled at this. “Cyril is probably the last man who would want to work for the common good. He’s out for Cyril. That’s patently obvious.”

  I packed my nightgown and Darcy’s pajamas, our robes, slippers and toilet bags.

  “What are we going to wear?” I asked. “Proper party clothes?”

  “I think so. White tie for me and long frock for you.”

  “What about those evening pajam
as?”

  Darcy frowned. “I’m not an expert on women’s fashions but I’d say they’d be perfect.”

  “But driving back in the morning? It will be cold,” I said. “Should we take along trousers and a jersey, do you think?”

  “Good idea.” He nodded. “You see, you don’t need a maid after all.”

  “If Queenie were here she’d probably pack one shoe and no stockings,” I said. “And a suit jacket but no skirt.”

  “At least she’s turning into quite a good cook,” Darcy said. “I know you’d hate to give her the sack. Now you don’t have to.”

  “Your uncle and aunt would love to have her back,” I said. “How funny that people are now fighting over her.”

  We were not expected at Idina’s until eight. Diddy gave us a late high tea with a boiled egg and watercress sandwiches. “You probably won’t eat until ten or eleven,” she said. “And you’ll need something in your stomachs for all the alcohol.”

  The night air flowing down from the mountains felt icy as we climbed into Diddy’s open-topped Riley. I have to confess I was feeling apprehensive about this—not just the journey in the dark on a horrendous road with the possibility of elephants stepping out from behind bushes, but the party itself, which was too wild for Diddy. I told myself not to worry. Darcy was with me. He wouldn’t drink too much or behave in a silly fashion.

  And so we set off. The headlamps cut a small beam of light into absolute darkness. Darcy drove carefully, swerving to avoid the worst of the potholes and boulders lying on the road. Even so we bounced around a bit and I held on to the dashboard and side door to steady myself. After a couple of miles the headlamps picked up a huge dark shape in the road ahead of us.

  “Elephant!” I grabbed at Darcy. We jerked to a stop. I had seen elephants in the London Zoo but this one was enormous. It turned its head with its big curving tusks toward us and gave us a long stare. We sat holding our breath, not knowing what to do if it charged at us. I felt horribly vulnerable in the open motor. It seemed as if hours passed. I could actually hear its stomach rumbling. Then it crossed the road as if we were a minor annoyance not worth bothering with and disappeared into the darkness. I could hear foliage being trampled as it went on its way.

  “Well, now we’ve got a good tale to tell when we get home,” Darcy said. We looked at each other and gave a relieved chuckle.

  About halfway there we came to a place where the road narrowed as it passed between large boulders. A small stream flowed over the roadbed and we had to slow to a crawl to negotiate it. Again I held my breath expecting a leopard to leap down on us. But we made it safely through and came to Idina’s house without further incident. Several other motorcars were parked outside the entrance. We found ourselves arriving at the same time as Pansy and Harry Ragg.

  “Hello, my sweets,” Pansy called, waving merrily. “Come to be naughty with the rest of us?” She turned to Harry. “Don’t scowl, darling. It will give you wrinkles and I don’t want to be stuck with an old husband.”

  “It looks as if you are stuck with me, whether you like it or not, my darling,” he said. “So I’m supposed to smile and say what ripping fun, am I?”

  “That’s exactly what you are supposed to say,” Pansy went on. “You know I adore you.”

  She put a hand up to touch his cheek. I couldn’t see his expression in the dark.

  A tall Somali servant admitted us at the main gate. The house was another long, low bungalow, but this one was built around a courtyard with rooms around three sides. We were shown to one of the bedrooms and told to deposit our things there before we were received by Idina. The bedroom was furnished in a more feminine style than Diddy’s: satin drapes tied back at the windows, satin quilt and pillows on the bed and . . .

  “Golly,” I said, quite forgetting again. “There’s a mirror on the ceiling.”

  Darcy looked up, amused.

  “Why would anyone want a mirror on the ceiling?” I went on. “You can’t actually see how you look from there and you’d get a frightful crick in your neck looking up.”

  Darcy laughed now. “You really are a sweet innocent, aren’t you? You’ll notice it’s right above the bed. There are some people who like to look at themselves when they are engaged in . . .”

  “Golly,” I said again and turned bright red. Darcy ruffled my hair.

  “Don’t worry, I promise we’ll turn the lights off—unless you want to?”

  “No!” I said, making him laugh harder.

  “I was going to say you were just like your royal great-grandmother, but from what I’ve heard she really enjoyed that sort of thing.”

  “She adored Prince Albert.”

  “And her Scottish lad? And what about Abdul the Indian?”

  “I’m sure her relationship with them was one of mistress and servant,” I said, making him laugh harder.

  “Not exactly the best choice of words there, my sweet.”

  I went to hit him. He grabbed my wrist. “Careful or we might be making use of that mirror,” he whispered.

  Further exploration revealed a bathroom with a huge tub big enough for two people and plenty of hot water. We took off our coats and I spruced up my hair and makeup after the drive in the open motorcar, then, feeling apprehensive, we were led to Idina. Instead of being taken to the double doors at the center of the quadrangle we were led past them to a door on the right. Pansy and Harry Ragg appeared from another bedroom and were also led to this same door.

  “So Idina is receiving visitors the way she always does?” Harry said, with a derisive chuckle.

  “Yes, Bwana Ragg. Please enter,” the Somali servant said.

  We entered a larger and more opulent bedroom. Lots of wine-colored satin and another mirror on the ceiling, but the room was empty.

  “Through here, darlings,” a voice called, echoing as if in a cave. Pansy and Harry obviously knew the drill. They gave us a knowing look and went ahead. The bathroom was enormous and now quite steamy. On the far wall was an enormous green onyx bathtub with water pouring from a bronze lion’s head on the wall. And in the bath lay Idina, completely naked. I swallowed back the word “golly” before I could say it this time.

  “Well, here you all are. Welcome!” she said. She stood up and reached for a towel. “Darcy and Georgie, how lovely that you came. We’re going to have such a good time, aren’t we, Pansy?”

  “I’m not sure yet,” Pansy said. “Is that Babe person coming?”

  “Tusker and Babe always come. You know that.”

  “Bwana’s coming, is he?” Pansy asked and I detected a note of wistfulness in her voice.

  “He promised to. But not his offspring, apparently. He claims it wouldn’t be their sort of thing, but I rather think it’s because it would hamper his own style.” She was still holding the towel in one hand and she danced it over the surface of the water.

  “He’s bringing Angel?”

  “I assume so. Annoying, as it makes the number uneven . . . but then again . . .” Idina finally put the towel around her and tucked it over her breasts like a sarong. “Go through to the drawing room. The drinks table is ready and waiting.”

  Darcy and I exchanged a glance when we were safely outside in the dark again.

  “I’m not sure this was such a good idea,” he whispered to me. “I was afraid it might be like this, from the rumors I’d heard. But it seemed churlish to refuse at the time, didn’t it? At least we have the motorcar and we can escape if we have to.”

  “Imagine receiving your guests in your bathtub,” I whispered.

  “Yes, but I have to say she has a damned good figure for a woman her age,” he whispered back. “You must tell your mother. It will make her livid.”

  “I don’t know about that. Mummy has a good figure too. But I don’t think she’s ever received her guests in her bath. I must ask her. Perhaps she’s
kept her wilder exploits from her daughter.” I remembered some very explicit photographs I’d once had to retrieve for her.

  Chapter 16

  AUGUST 11

  At Clouds, the home of Lady Idina. I’d give her a surname but I haven’t been able to find out who she is married to at the moment. I’m not sure I’m ready for this. If it starts with a mirror on the ceiling and a hostess naked in her bathtub where on earth can it go from here?

  Darcy was chuckling as the central front doors were opened and we followed Harry and Pansy Ragg into a big room dominated by a great marble fireplace. No expense had been spared on this house. It was furnished tastefully with plenty of soft sofas and chairs, as well as the required animal skins on the floor and trophies on the walls. In the center of the room a well-stocked drinks table had been set up, around which several people were already standing. There was already a fug of cigarette smoke and I blinked a little as I looked around, recognizing Tusker and Babe, Chops and Mrs. Chops, whom I seemed to remember was called Camilla.

  “Jolly good. The newcomers are here,” Tusker said, nodding approval at us.

  “Brave of you to come, darlings.” Camilla Rutherford gave me a knowing look. “I suspect you’ll learn more tonight than you have on your honeymoon so far.”

  I didn’t know what to say to this and glanced around the room. There were two couples I hadn’t seen before—a sophisticated-looking pair, the man with a thin Ronald Colman mustache and the woman small, slim and dark, not unlike Mrs. Simpson. In a gloved hand she held a cigarette in a long ebony holder. The other pair looked larger and more countrified, not as fashionably dressed, as if they might be farmers.

  “And who do we have here, then?” Harry Ragg asked. “I don’t think we’ve met. Not one of Idina’s normal crowd.”

  “Mr. and Mrs. Atkins and Mr. and Mrs. Tomlinson,” Chops Rutherford said. “All the way out from Nairobi.”