The Karma of Love (Bantam Series No. 14) by Barbara Cartland Page A
Authors: Barbara Cartland
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had even grown to like some of those who always talked to Neil and to herself as they moved around the deck. She knew they were curious about her and would have questioned her closely if she had allowed them to do so.
After tomorrow she would never see any of them again. They were just “ships that pass in the night” and as easily forgotten.
With the exception of one,’ her brain said firmly.
It was true, Orissa thought, she would never be able to forget Major Meredith.
They would never meet again, but he had done something that she could never erase from her memory.
He had kissed her!
He was the first man to do so—the only man! She had the uneasy feeling that she would always compare what she felt when his lips touched hers with any kiss that she received in the future.
As Orissa walked down the corridor and saw Major Meredith coming towards her her heart gave a sudden, unexpected leap. It was almost as if it turned over in her breast and it was hard to breathe.
‘I do not wish to speak to him,’ she thought, sud denly panic-stricken, but it was too late to do anything about it.
“I was hoping to see you, Mrs. Lane,” Major Meredith remarked.
He came to a stop when he reached her and stood so that it was impossible for her to pass by him without having to push him aside.
Orissa raised her eyes to his face but she did not speak.
“Your husband will, I presume, be meeting you at Bombay.”
‘ I hope ... so,” Orissa managed to answer.
‘Is there anything I can do to help you after we have embarked?”
“No, thank you. There is nothing.”
Their words were conventional, spoken in low voices that seemed deliberately devoid of expression and yet, Orissa thought wildly, there was so much left unsaid.
She had a sudden crazy impulse to move towards him; to touch him; to ask him to kiss her just once more.
She wanted to be sure that she had not been dreaming or imagining the emotions he aroused in her that night under the stars. Then she told herself that he must not despise her more than he did already.
With an effort that was almost painful because she had to force it upon herself, she put out her hand.
“Good-bye, Major Meredith.”
She felt the hard strength of his fingers and somehow it made her quiver.
“Good-bye, Mrs. Lane. I hope you will be as happy in India as you expect to be.”
“Thank you.”
She thought he would never relinquish her hand. She did not dare look into his eyes.
Then she was free. He was walking away from her down the passage and she felt inexplicably that he was taking with him something of herself.
CHAPTER FIVE
The bustle and noise on the quay was almost deafening .
The passengers coming down the First Class gangway seemed to be plunged into a maelstrom of dark bodies, baggage and bales, children screaming, men shouting and an indescribable general confusion from which one felt that nothing could emerge but chaos.
Orissa’s Steward who had found a coolie to take her luggage waited for her to give him instructions.
She had expected only half-heartedly that there would be someone to meet her. She hoped perhaps her Uncle might have instructed a friend or one of his officers in Bombay to be on the quay when the ship docked.
Then she told herself it was far more likely that he would meet her at Delhi.
After all, if Charles had telegraphed him as they had arranged, he would be sure that she would be chaperoned on the voyage and that whoever was looking after her would see her into the train for Delhi.
Nevertheless she stood for a moment in the seething crowd wondering if there was anyone looking for her and hoping they would not miss her.
The coolie, half naked and with ragged clothing waited philosophically for her to make up her mind as to where he was to take her baggage.
There was not much of it and she was thankful that she had not, like most of the other passengers, to wait until the luggage which had been in the hold came ashore.
She had
After tomorrow she would never see any of them again. They were just “ships that pass in the night” and as easily forgotten.
With the exception of one,’ her brain said firmly.
It was true, Orissa thought, she would never be able to forget Major Meredith.
They would never meet again, but he had done something that she could never erase from her memory.
He had kissed her!
He was the first man to do so—the only man! She had the uneasy feeling that she would always compare what she felt when his lips touched hers with any kiss that she received in the future.
As Orissa walked down the corridor and saw Major Meredith coming towards her her heart gave a sudden, unexpected leap. It was almost as if it turned over in her breast and it was hard to breathe.
‘I do not wish to speak to him,’ she thought, sud denly panic-stricken, but it was too late to do anything about it.
“I was hoping to see you, Mrs. Lane,” Major Meredith remarked.
He came to a stop when he reached her and stood so that it was impossible for her to pass by him without having to push him aside.
Orissa raised her eyes to his face but she did not speak.
“Your husband will, I presume, be meeting you at Bombay.”
‘ I hope ... so,” Orissa managed to answer.
‘Is there anything I can do to help you after we have embarked?”
“No, thank you. There is nothing.”
Their words were conventional, spoken in low voices that seemed deliberately devoid of expression and yet, Orissa thought wildly, there was so much left unsaid.
She had a sudden crazy impulse to move towards him; to touch him; to ask him to kiss her just once more.
She wanted to be sure that she had not been dreaming or imagining the emotions he aroused in her that night under the stars. Then she told herself that he must not despise her more than he did already.
With an effort that was almost painful because she had to force it upon herself, she put out her hand.
“Good-bye, Major Meredith.”
She felt the hard strength of his fingers and somehow it made her quiver.
“Good-bye, Mrs. Lane. I hope you will be as happy in India as you expect to be.”
“Thank you.”
She thought he would never relinquish her hand. She did not dare look into his eyes.
Then she was free. He was walking away from her down the passage and she felt inexplicably that he was taking with him something of herself.
CHAPTER FIVE
The bustle and noise on the quay was almost deafening .
The passengers coming down the First Class gangway seemed to be plunged into a maelstrom of dark bodies, baggage and bales, children screaming, men shouting and an indescribable general confusion from which one felt that nothing could emerge but chaos.
Orissa’s Steward who had found a coolie to take her luggage waited for her to give him instructions.
She had expected only half-heartedly that there would be someone to meet her. She hoped perhaps her Uncle might have instructed a friend or one of his officers in Bombay to be on the quay when the ship docked.
Then she told herself it was far more likely that he would meet her at Delhi.
After all, if Charles had telegraphed him as they had arranged, he would be sure that she would be chaperoned on the voyage and that whoever was looking after her would see her into the train for Delhi.
Nevertheless she stood for a moment in the seething crowd wondering if there was anyone looking for her and hoping they would not miss her.
The coolie, half naked and with ragged clothing waited philosophically for her to make up her mind as to where he was to take her baggage.
There was not much of it and she was thankful that she had not, like most of the other passengers, to wait until the luggage which had been in the hold came ashore.
She had
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