Zulu Hart by Saul David Read Free Book Online Page B

grouped in a small knot around the large Adam fireplace, some on sofas, others standing. Harris himself was leaning against the mantelpiece, a glass of champagne in his hand. Addressing the group, he said, ‘I would like to present Cornet George Hart, the newest member of my officers’ mess.’

    Harris then introduced George to each guest in turn. ‘Of course you know Bell,’ he said of the penultimate guest. ‘And, last but not least, Mrs Bradbury.’ A pretty blonde gazed up from the sofa, her eyebrows rising ever so slightly. She was wearing a low-cut dinner dress of pale blue satin that matched her eyes, offset by a train of ruby velvet. Her hair she wore up in a chignon, with the odd ringlet falling to the nape of her neck. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Cornet Hart,’ she said, extending a shapely hand in George’s direction.

    ‘The pleasure,’ said George, admiring her upturned nose, ‘is all mine.’

    At dinner George was seated next to Mrs Bradbury on one side and Lady Fitzmaurice, a portly matron, on the other. He talked to her ladyship for the first course, and then turned and monopolized Mrs Bradbury. Her name, he discovered, was Sarah. She came from a respectable northeast farming family and had married at the age of seventeen in 1873, which meant she was only four years George’s senior. Her late husband had not been wealthy, and after his death she had found work as a governess for Lady Charlton’s children, at whose house she had met Colonel Harris. The colonel had been ‘very kind’, she told George, who thought it best not to enquire further. But one thing was obvious: she could not have afforded her dress on a governess’s salary.

    After the ladies had retired, port and cigars were brought out and the conversation eventually turned to cards. ‘Fancy a game of baccarat later, gentlemen?’ asked Harris.

    ‘Don’t mind if I do,’ said Lord Fitzmaurice, a large florid- faced man. Colonel Alexander and Captain Bell also assented.

    ‘What about you, Hart?’ asked Harris, a smile on his lips.

    ‘I can’t say I’ve ever played baccarat, sir. We preferred chemin de fer at Sandhurst.’

    ‘There’s very little difference. You’re still aiming for a points total of nine, preferably in two cards, but in baccarat the banker deals three hands rather than two. Other than that the rules are virtually the same. Interested?’

    George hesitated. ‘The thing is , I lost rather a lot of money gambling …’

    ‘If you’re worried, we’ll keep the stakes low,’ Harris said. ‘How about a maximum bet of a guinea?’

    ‘All right by me,’ said Lord Fitzmaurice.

    They both looked at George. He was desperate to say yes, not least because he loved gambling, and did not want Harris to think him priggish, not now they were getting on so well. Yet since the bombshell about his father and the stopping of his allowance, he could not afford to risk even a few pounds. Then again, what if he won? The money would certainly come in handy. He was in a dilemma. ‘Perhaps I could watch the first few hands, and maybe join in later?’ he said without conviction.

    ‘Look, Hart,’ said an exasperated Harris, ‘if money’s a bit tight, I’m happy to lend you some.’

    ‘I appreciate the offer, sir, but I’d prefer not to get into debt.’

    ‘Suit yourself. Well, gentlemen , I think we’ve kept the ladies waiting long enough. Shall we?’

    George cut a tormented figure as he followed his host to the drawing room. He knew his refusal to play had disappointed Harris, and he feared the consequences; but he also knew that gambling was a pleasure he no longer had the means to indulge.

    ‘You look pensive,’ said Mrs Bradbury, as he approached the fireplace. ‘Penny for your thoughts?’

    ‘The colonel’s suggested a game of baccarat. Most times I’d jump at the chance, but I thought it best to decline.’

    ‘Why?’

    George sat down next to her. ‘Let’s just say,’ he said with