Page 32 of The Sapphire Child
Tibby was staring out to sea. Stella waited for her to agree. Tibby cleared her throat and met Stella’s questioning look. Her eyes were full of sadness.
‘Tom and Esmie may live as man and wife,’ she said quietly, ‘but they aren’t married. They can’t be. Tom is still tied to Lydia.’
Stella gaped at her. ‘What do you mean, tied to Lydia?’
‘She won’t give him a divorce. I don’t want to speak ill of my sister-in-law but she has been very cruel to Tommy. I think it’s because she still wants to have a hold over him and deny him what he wants most of all – to be married to Esmie.’
Stella was shocked. ‘How awful,’ she said.
Tibby nodded. ‘And so unkind to her friend Esmie too. They used to be as close as sisters – went to school together. Did you know that Esmie saved Lydia’s life when she was kidnapped by Pathans?’
‘I don’t know all the details,’ said Stella, ‘but years ago the baroness – one of the residents at the Raj – showed me a newspaper article about Esmie being a heroine in the rescue.’
‘She certainly was. Esmie risked everything to lead an expedition into tribal territory to find Lydia and bring her to safety. And on top of that, my brother had to put up with Lydia’s philandering with a cavalry officer. She was trying to run off with him when she got kidnapped – left baby Andrew behind without a second thought.’ She grew more heated. ‘I wouldn’t be at all surprised if Lydia was behind the rumours about Tommy and Esmie not being married. From what I gather, she’s still in touch with the gossips of Pindi. If she knows that Esmie is living openly with my brother and posing as his wife, and she almost certainly does, then she’ll be terribly jealous.’
Tibby pulled up a handful of grass in agitation; her cheeks were red with indignation.
Stella was appalled by Lydia’s callous behaviour. ‘I should have told Esmie what Gotley had said about her to Andy – given her the chance to explain things properly to him before he left.’ She looked at Tibby in distress. ‘What if Andrew hears about it from Lydia?’
Tibby grabbed Stella’s hand. ‘None of this is your fault. You kept your word to Andrew. I can understand my brother’sfrustration at not being able to marry Esmie – but by not being honest about their true relationship he’s landed himself and Esmie in an awkward situation. I suppose appearances matter more in the colonies. I wouldn’t give two figs what people said about me – but no doubt it’s different for Esmie trying to carry out the duties of a respectable hotelier’s wife.’
‘What do we do about Andy?’ Stella asked.
Tibby squeezed Stella’s hand. ‘Nothing for the moment. Wait and see if Lydia brings up the subject. If she does, then we can let Andrew know the full picture. After all, it’s only from Lydia’s meanness that Tommy and Esmie aren’t properly married. My guess is that she won’t want to be seen in a bad light and won’t mention it.’
She let go of Stella’s hand and sighed. ‘What’s so damnable is that it was Lydia who couldn’t wait to leave India and Tommy – she didn’t even want Andrew. She came rushing back here and immediately took up with a rich wine merchant. He was called Colin Fleming, as I recall, and she knew him from way back. He had always been sweet on her apparently. But she tried to have her cake and eat it – avoid a scandalous divorce with Tommy and have Colin as an escort.’
‘So what happened?’ asked Stella.
‘Colin surprised everyone by proposing to a much younger Frenchwoman he’d met on the Riviera. They had a swift wedding in Nice and Lydia was left with no one. After that, the best Tommy could get from her was a formal separation.’
Tibby began packing up the picnic basket. Stella took in deep breaths of salty air to try and quell the anger she felt inside. The thought of going back to Templeton Hall and being civil to Lydia filled her with distaste.
Yet pretending to Andrew that everything was fine would be a harder task. Her heart ached for him. He was the innocent in allthis, caught up in his parents’ wrangling. Subdued, the two women returned to the castle.
To delay her return to Templeton Hall, Stella asked Tibby to show her Dawan’s artwork. Brightening, Tibby took her into a large room on the ground floor with tall windows that flooded the room with afternoon light. Paintings were propped against the walls and the parquet floor was covered in paint splashes. A long table was strewn with brushes, paints and jars of coloured water, and the room smelt of turpentine. Dawan, wearing an enveloping apron, was standing at an easel at the far window, absorbed in his work.
Tibby waved across the room at him. ‘You don’t mind if Stella looks at your paintings, do you?’
He gave a distracted smile and put down his brush, wiping his hands on a rag.
‘Please don’t stop on my account,’ said Stella. ‘I’ll be very quiet.’
‘But Tibby won’t be,’ he replied, crossing the room.
Together, the three of them toured the room looking at the paintings in turn. Stella found them startling. Two or three were of white women dressing or bathing but most were of Indian people – striking faces and bold colours – done with a simplicity of style that seemed very modern and European.
‘May I see what you’re working on at the moment?’ Stella asked.
He seemed pleased and led them back to his easel.
‘It’s Manjusri – the goddess of beauty and learning.’
Stella was transfixed by the depiction of a half-naked woman with four arms, wearing a scarlet skirt similar to the dress Tibby had on. Her face was still a blank but Stella had the unsettling thought that Tibby might have posed for the artist.
In one of the upper hands the goddess held a book of Scottish poetry and in the other a large white flower.
‘She should be holding a sacred book full of wisdom,’ explained Dawan, ‘but my goddess is a lover of literature.’ He paused. ‘The flower is the lotus – a symbol of beauty.’
