Authors: Lucinda Riley
“Darling, what is it?”
“It’s just—” I blew my nose and tried again. “It’s just that I’m shocked you’ve seriously considered a future with me.”
“Why? Haven’t you?” Donald looked astonished.
“Donald, don’t you understand that I haven’t dared to contemplate it? We’re from such different worlds: I’m a penniless Indian nurse and you’re a lord of the realm.”
“You’re of high birth in your own country, Anni.”
“Yes, but like yours, our family fell on hard times. My mother married for love, you see.”
“There we are, then.” He smiled.
“But, Donald”—I steeled myself to say the words—“you must realize it won’t be just your mother who will object to our marriage. I’ve suffered from prejudice because of my race and the color of my skin many times in England. Are you sure you can live with the stigma of having an Indian wife?”
“I adore the gorgeous color of your skin, my darling,” he said as he kissed my neck. “To be frank, whoever doesn’t, I wouldn’t care to know anyway.”
I stared up at him, never loving him more than I did at that moment. “You’re a very unusual man, Donald Astbury.”
“And you’re an extraordinary woman. I adore you.”
When he left for Devon the following day, I actually began to imagine our future. And little by little, the box in which I’d buried my true feelings for him began to splinter and crack.
W
hile Donald was in Devon, I was determined to immerse myself in my nursing course. I knew I hadn’t concentrated fully on it. No matter what the future held for the two of us, this was an achievement I wanted for myself.
Perhaps it’s true to say that when one is loved by another person it creates a glow of happiness and confidence that others find irresistible. Never before had I been asked out to so many dances and outings by the doctors at my hospital.
“Quite the girl of the moment,” said one of the nurses as yet again I refused an invitation from an eligible young surgeon.
For the first time in my life, it seemed as if she might be right.
I’ve since learned that one must never be complacent about a special time in one’s existence. It’s always so fleeting, that moment when one feels invincible, and I’m sad to say that my moment came to an abrupt halt very soon afterward. A week after Donald had left for Devon, I received a letter at the nurses’ hostel, forwarded to me by Selina.
Cooch Behar Palace
Bengal
December 1918
My dearest Anni,
I have no idea where you are living since you returned from France a few weeks ago, but I thought the Astburys might. Maybe you have since written with your new address, but we both know how slow the Indian post can be. I can only say how proud we all are here of your nursing work on the front line. And I hope you are well and finally able to find your path, after the turbulence of the past four years.
Therefore this letter is hard for me to write, as I hate to call your attention away from your own life. But I need your help.
As we both know, Indira fell in love a long time ago with Prince Varun. Since the war has now ended, preparations for her marriage are going ahead. But she is point-blank refusing to marry the Maharaja of Dharampur. We have all tried pleading with her, telling her that she has no choice—you can imagine the scandal if she declined at this moment—and the Maharaja is a good man, if a little older than she. Indira must do her duty for her family, whatever her heart is telling her.
She is currently refusing to eat, or, in fact, to rise from her bed at all. She tells me she wishes to lie there and die rather than marry a man she doesn’t love. No one at the palace can bring her to her senses, and I beg you, Anni, as someone she loves, trusts and respects, to come back home, even if just for a short time, and help us try to make her see where her duty lies. We all feel that you’re perhaps the only person on this earth to whom she will listen.
I enclose in this letter a first-class passage back home. It is an open ticket, as I have no idea how long this letter will take to reach you, but all you need to do is contact the P & O office and arrange the exact date you wish to leave.
I know this is a lot to ask of you, but besides, it’s a long time since you visited the country of your birth, and we love you dearly.
My dear Anni, we need you.
With love, and very best regards . . .
The letter was signed “Ayesha” and bore her royal stamp beneath it.
I sat on the narrow bed in my hostel, my mind reeling as thoughts from the past assailed me. My immersion in my new English life had been so complete, it was difficult to even visualize the palace, or the faces of the people who had once meant everything to me.
Numerous thoughts ran through my head, the foremost one being: what would Donald say?
Surely, it was too much to ask of me to throw up everything and return even for a short time to a life I’d long ago said good-bye to? I paced up and down my dormitory, realizing that even if I only went to stay for two weeks, the voyage there and back would take just under two months. The timing was dreadful, could not have been more so.
But I also knew that everything I was and everything I had in my life now, I owed to the Maharani and her family, who had supported
and cared for me when no one else had. The last time I had seen the Maharani, she had presented me with a choice, but this time, I knew I had none at all.
• • •
“It’s a great pity,” said Matron with a sigh the next morning, when I told her I had to return urgently to India on family business. “Have you any idea when you’ll be back?”
“I would hope within three months,” I said, trying to reassure her.
“Well, what I suggest we do is put you on compassionate leave. This means we are still able to hold a place open for you both at the hospital and on your nursing course. We wouldn’t want to lose you here.”
“Matron, I’m so very sorry to let you down, but I must go. It’s a family matter.”
“Well, just make sure you
do
return, won’t you, Nurse Chavan?”
“Of course I’ll return.” I smiled at her confidently as I stood up to leave the room. “My whole life is here in England now.”
As the Maharani had asked me to, I visited the P & O office and booked myself onto the next available passage. I sent a telegram to her letting her know when I’d be arriving and then steeled myself to tell Donald, who was due to return to London from Devon within the next few days. As I knew he would be, he was aghast when I told him.
“Oh, Anni,” he said when I broke the news on his first evening back, “must you go?”
“Yes, I must. They’re the nearest thing to family I have. The Maharani was so kind to me when I was a child and lost my mother. She was the one who sent me to England in the first place and paid for my education here.”
“But, Anni,” he persisted, “what can you do? If Indira has made up her mind not to marry this Maharaja, I hardly think that anyone, not even her oldest friend, will be able to change it. No one could tell me to stop loving you,” Donald added with a sad smile.
“You’re right, I doubt I can do anything, but the Maharani has called for me and I cannot let her down.”
“How long will you be gone?”
“About three months, I think.”
Donald grabbed my hands and held them tightly. “Promise me, not a day longer?”
“All I can promise is that I will return to England the first moment I can.”
“You haven’t been home to India for a long time. Maybe its charms will persuade you to stay,” he said nervously.
“That won’t happen,” I said firmly. “Now, tell me about Devon and how your mother took the news of Selina’s engagement.”
“I’ve had the most ghastly ten days,” Donald admitted. “When I arrived, Selina told me Mother virtually fainted from shock when she said she was going to marry Henri and in all likelihood live in France. Mother, of course, forbade it, said she’d never welcome her at Astbury again and would cut her off without a penny if she dared to marry Henri. Not that she has a penny to give to Selina,” Donald added morosely. “By the time I arrived a few days later, she’d taken to her bed and refused to leave it. She said she was sick and didn’t want to see anyone. Granted, she had a cold, but when I managed to gain entry, she was hardly at death’s door. However,” he sighed, “given the fact that she took Selina’s news so badly and was obviously unwell, I didn’t think it appropriate to tell her the estate would have to be sold. Or that I was in love with you, my darling.”
“No, that would definitely have been a shock too far,” I agreed.
“So, we’re at an impasse at present. And now, hearing your news, I think that when you leave for India, I’ll go down to Devon and begin to look for a buyer for the estate. And try and choose the right moment to tell Mother.”
“I don’t envy you, Donald. Where is Selina now?” I asked.
“She’s sailed off to France with Eleanor and Henri. He’s taking her to see his château in Provence. Lucky her,” Donald mused. “I only wish I could sail for India with you.”
“So do I,” I answered with feeling.
We sat in silence for a while, both contemplating the hand that fate had dealt us.
“You will write, won’t you?” Donald urged.
“Of course I will. And it won’t be for long. I’m sure the sale of Astbury will keep you busy.”
“Don’t remind me. The thought of only Mother for company every day for the next few months sends shivers down my spine. And I do mean to tell her, Anni, not just about the estate, but about us and our plans for the future. I had actually planned to ask you formally to marry me once I’d told her. Do the whole thing properly,
go down on bended knee, produce a ring. But at the very least, I want you to understand before you leave just how serious I am about you and our future. We will be married, Anni, I swear it. It is what you want, isn’t it?”
“Yes, so very much that it scares me.”
“So you do love me, darling?”
“
Of course
I love you, Donald.”
“I sometimes think you’re far more English than I am, in the way you are able to hold your emotions in check,” he said, teasing me. “As you know, I’ve never been any good at that. I wear my heart on my sleeve and I always have. So, can we say for now that we’re unofficially engaged?” He kissed the tips of my fingers gently.
I looked at him with all the love I felt burning in my eyes. “Yes, I would like that. I would like it very much indeed.”
For the following few days, with all my barriers broken down by the threat of separation and Donald’s unwavering determination for us to be together, I showed my love for him openly and honestly. Already on leave from the hospital, I had to move out of the nurses’ hostel, so I brought my suitcase with me and moved into Belgrave Square with Donald. He in turn gave the maid a week off so that we could have complete privacy.
We behaved just like any two young people in love, spending our days strolling through the beautiful London parks and the nights entwined in his bed. I threw caution to the wind in that regard, not taking the care I should have to protect myself, but nothing at that moment mattered more than our unfettered love.
Donald drove me down to Southampton on the day I was to leave for India. He came on board the ship with me and admired the smart cabin I’d been allocated.
“The princess returns to her palace.” He grinned as he pulled me onto the enormous bed and held me in his arms. “Do you think anyone would notice if I hid beneath your mattress and stowed away?”
“I’m sure they wouldn’t.”
“Oh how I wish I could,” he said with a sigh as the ship’s bell rang out to indicate that it was time for all nonpassengers to leave as the ship was preparing to depart. “But I suppose I’d better go home and try to find a way to support you in the manner to which you’re obviously accustomed,” he said, making an attempt to lighten the atmosphere.
“You know I don’t care about luxuries, Donald.”
“Well, that’s a jolly good thing, because when you become my wife, you won’t have any,” he teased.
Our mood changed as I walked with him along the corridor and out onto the deck where we would say a last good-bye.
He put his arms around me and held me tightly. “I love you, my Anahita. Come back to me as soon as you can.”
“I will, I promise,” I said, and saw there were tears in his eyes as well as my own.
“Right, then,” he said after a last lingering kiss. “Good-bye, my darling. Take care of yourself until I can do it for you.”
“And you.” I was so choked with emotion, I could hardly speak.
He gave me a small wave as he turned from me and began to walk down the gangplank with the last remaining guests. Just before he reached the bottom, I called out to him.
“Wait for me, Donald! However long it takes, please wait for me.”
But it was a windy day, and my words were lost on the breeze.
T
he voyage back to India was uneventful and would have been pleasant if I hadn’t been missing Donald quite so much. There were any number of amusements to keep me occupied and also young men, both English and Indian, who requested my company next to them for dinner and asked me to dance with them afterward.
I began to realize on the voyage that the gawky thirteen-year-old who had traveled across the water to England six years before had shed her skin and become an elegant and not unattractive young woman. This pleased me as it would please any woman, and for that simple reason it made me feel a little more worthy of Donald. He sent sweet telegrams to the ship full of love and humor, telling me how he had managed to sell a painting and acquire some new sheep, that a second threshing machine had been going cheap at auction. And that his mother still lay in bed, pretending to be sick. His latest telegram had made me smile:
MOTHER REFUSING TO ATTEND SELINA’S WEDDING STOP NEXT WEEK IN LONDON STOP I’M TO GIVE HER AWAY STOP US NEXT, MY DARLING STOP DONALD XX
As the ship steamed through calm seas on its way to my homeland, I began to focus my thoughts on Indira. Knowing how stubborn she was, I doubted I could do anything to change her mind. I was hoping my attempts to make her see sense would show themselves to be fruitless and that the Maharani would thank me for at least trying, and having done my duty, I’d be able to return to England and Donald as quickly as I could.