Moon Over Eden (Bantam Series No. 37)

by Barbara Cartland

  “I will think about it,” Dominica faltered.

  But somehow she felt that Lord Hawkston would agree with Madame Fernando.

  She was well aware that he was not buying such delectable gowns entirely for her own satisfaction. She knew that he wished to make her look as attractive as the girl who had jilted his nephew and whom he therefore could not take with him to Kandy.

  ‘I expect she was very pretty,’ Dominica thought.

  She wished she could have seen the lady who had transferred her affections elsewhere as that she would have some idea on what to model herself.

  Then she decided that to be a mere copy of another woman who had not honoured her word and had failed not only Gerald Warren, but also his Uncle, would be a mistake.

  For one thing it might annoy Lord Hawkston if he thought that she was equally frivolous and untrustworthy.

  “I will be myself,” Dominica decided. “I am Mama’s daughter and Mama always said that we each of us have our own personalities, our own characters and our own standards. I will try to make the best of myself, but I will not try to imitate anyone else.”

  The thought made her walk into the Salon wearing the wedding-gown and made her appear as if she had stepped out of a fairy-story.

  Lord Hawkston looked up at her for a long moment before he said quietly:

  “It might have been designed for you!”

  “You approve, Milord?” Madame Fernando enquired. “I will take it with the rest of the gowns.”

  “Thank you, Milord! Thank you!”

  Madame Fernando turned away to give some instructions and Dominica moved nearer to Lord Hawkston.

  “Are you sure we should buy this gown?” she asked. “You do not think it ... unlucky to anticipate that your nephew will accept me as his ... wife?”

  “I cannot think of any young man who would not eagerly accept you at this moment,” Lord Hawkston replied. “Look in the mirror, Dominica. You will see for yourself how charming and attractive you look.”

  She gave him a faint smile but at the same time her eyes were worried.

  “You have done enough for one morning,” he said. “Change into one of your new dresses and I will take you out to luncheon at the Galle-face Hotel.”

  Dominica looked surprised, but when she told Madame Fernando what was required she dressed her in a simple but exceedingly attractive gown of flowered muslin trimmed with pink ribbons.

  There were new shoes to match the dresses, there were gloves and reticules to match most of them.

  What was more, to go with the gown that Dominica was wearing there was a little bonnet trimmed with a wreath of exquisite silk roses and ribbons of a soft pink to tie under her chin.

  “Shall I throw away the clothes in which you arrived?” Madame Fernando enquired.

  Dominica gave an exclamation of horror.

  “No, of course not! There is a lot of wear in them still and I have five sisters younger than I am.”

  “You will no doubt have far more attractive clothes to hand down in future,” Madame Fernando said with a smile.

  “That is what I think myself,” Dominica replied, “but in the meantime...”

  Her voice died away.

  She could not explain to Madame Fernando that her father would be horrified at the clothes she was wearing now and she was already worrying how, when she returned home, she could change quickly into one of her ordinary dresses before he saw her.

  He had so often denounced as sinful the women in his Congregation who dressed extravagantly. He was quite certain that frivolity was a sin and that beautiful clothes corrupted those who wore them.

  “Please pack everything in which I came,” Dominica said, “and I will take them with me in the carriage.”

  “The gowns which are ready will be sent to the Vicarage this evening, Mademoiselle,” Madame Fernando said. “The others will follow just as soon as they are finished until Thursday morning. After that the clothes will be sent by train to Kandy. I will speak about it with Milord.”

  When Dominica came from the dressing-room it was to find Lord Hawkston writing a cheque.

  She knew it must be for an enormous sum and she felt exceedingly guilty that so much money had been spent on clothes which could have fed those who were hungry.

  But it was impossible not to be thrilled with her appearance and the fact that she possessed so many delectable things—so many she could hardly remember how many there were.

  She reached Lord Hawkston’s side as he was handing the cheque to Madame Fernando and he turned to smile at her.

  Her eyes were on his face and he saw there was a pleading expression in them.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “I want to ask you something,” Dominica said. “You may refuse, but I must ... ask you.”

  “Tell me,” he said quietly.

  She drew him a little to one side out of earshot of Madame.

  “It is just that you have given me so much—so much more than I expected or even dreamt of,” she said. “Could we possibly give back one dress and buy new bonnets for my sisters? We have worn the black ones ever since Mama died, and they will have to go on wearing them for years and years! We all hate black!”

  There was a little throb in her voice and her eyes pleaded with him to understand.

  “Just one dress less?” Dominica pleaded, “It would cost you no more.”

  Lord Hawkston smiled at her, then turned towards Madame Fernando.

  “Madame,” he said. “I have another commission for you.”

  “But of course, Milord,” she smiled.

  “There are,” Lord Hawkston said slowly, “five more Miss Radfords of varying ages. I would like you to make a simple Sunday dress such as Miss Dominica is wearing now for each of them. They will also require bonnets to match, each one to be different and suitable to their particular age and individuality. I think it would be wisest if you send someone to the Vicarage, perhaps this evening, to measure them.”

  “It will be a pleasure, Milord!” Madame Fernando said in a gratified voice.

  She bowed Lord Hawkston and Dominica out of the shop with many expressions of gratitude.

  When finally they drove away in the carriage Dominica turned towards Lord Hawkston.

  “I did not know anyone could be so marvellously and wonderfully kind!” she exclaimed. “Thank you, My Lord! Thank you with all my heart!”

  “It has been a pleasure, Dominica,” he replied—and meant it!

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The train was moving at what seemed to Dominica to be great speed through a succession of rice fields and swamps.

  She sat looking out, feeling as she had felt from the moment Lord Hawkston came into her life that everything was happening in a dream and there was no reality or substance about it.

  Up to the very last moment she could hardly believe that she was really leaving the Vicarage for good and saying goodbye to her sisters.

  They had been almost too excited about the new dresses and bonnets Lord Hawkston was giving them from Madame Fernando’s to be upset at the thought of Dominica leaving them.

  When she first told them what he had ordered they could hardly believe it was true.

  “Will Papa let us wear them?” Faith asked at last. “What will he say when he sees us in such grand clothes?”

  “He will say,” Charity remarked, mimicking her father’s voice: “ ‘A woman’s conceit and her lust for rich attire is an abomination in the eyes of the Lord’!”

  “I am quite certain he will make us go on wearing our old dresses and those hateful, hideous bonnets!” Faith said despairingly.

  “I thought about that coming home,” Dominica said. “Although perhaps it is wrong of me, I can tell you what you must do.”

  “What is that?” the older girls asked in unison.

  “When your new bonnets arrive,” Dominica said, “burn your old ones!”

  “Burn them?”

  The words were almost a shriek.r />
  “You know as well as I do,” Dominica went on, “that Papa would never let you spend money on buying a new bonnet if you had one that was still wearable. And you could not go to Church bare-headed!”

  Faith put her arms around Dominica and hugged her.

  “You are a genius!” she exclaimed. “That is exactly what we will do.”

  “Perhaps it is a little deceitful,” Dominica said hesitatingly, “but I am sure the gowns will be lovely ... as lovely as mine ... and Lord Hawkston told Madame Fernando they were all to be different.”

  “He is the most wonderful man in the world!” Faith cried exultantly.

  “Be careful not to thank him in front of Papa,” Dominica said admonishingly.

  They remembered her warning although it was difficult to say nothing until the moment came when they were alone with him.

  Then their gratitude burst forth.

  “How can you be so kind?” “It is so exciting!” “We can hardly believe that you are giving us such a wonderful present!”

  “I shall look forward to seeing you dressed as you should be,” Lord Hawkston said, and Dominica fancied there was a twinkle in his eyes.

  Prudence, who had said little, came to stand beside him.

  “I think you’re very kind,” she said with a slight lisp. “I’ll marry you when I’m grown up!”

  Lord Hawkston looked somewhat startled, but he said: “I am very honoured at receiving the first proposal of marriage any lady has ever made to me!”

  “You’ll wait for me?” Prudence enquired.

  He looked down at her and realised she was a small replica of Dominica. She had the same ash-blond hair, grey eyes and small straight nose.

  She looked fragile and he guessed she was the weakest member of the family.

  “Will you wait?” Prudence asked earnestly.

  “I’ll tell you what I will promise you,” Lord Hawkston said after a moment’s pause. “When you are eighteen I will give a grand Ball at which you shall meet all the most handsome, eligible and charming young men of my acquaintance.”

  Prudence’s eyes lit up.

  “I must learn to dance!”

  “You must also be strong and eat up all your food,” Dominica interposed, “otherwise you will not be strong enough to dance all night. Is that not true, My Lord?”

  She glanced at Lord Hawkston meaningfully as she spoke.

  “It is indeed,” he said gravely. “Dancing can be very strenuous. It would be extremely disappointing if, like Cinderella, you had to leave your own Ball at twelve o’clock!”

  “I’ll eat,” Prudence promised.

  It was clever of him, Dominica thought now as she looked out of the train, to give the child an inducement. There had been so many struggles in the past because Prudence was fastidious and found the very limited fare their father would permit unpalatable.

  The rice fields alternated with jungle-covered knolls which seemed like small islands surrounded by the emerald green of the young rice. Dominica could see the splay-footed buffalo hitched on to wooden ploughs floundering up to their knees where the wet ground was being prepared for a new crop.

  From Rambukana it was a steady climb and another engine was hitched to the first.

  At one point, which Dominica knew was called ‘Sensation Rock’ the line was cut into the steep side of the mountain and the view was fantastic.

  There was a precipice of 700 feet below them and below that another descent of more than 1,000 feet to the paddy-fields.

  The hills near the railway were covered with young tea-plants growing between the stumps of dead coffee trees, but most of the time they were passing through forest.

  Lord Hawkston sat opposite Dominica, but feeling that he would not wish to talk above the noise of the engine, she looked out at the scenery, deep in her own thoughts.

  She was conscious that her traveling dress was very elegant and the small jacket which lay beside her on another seat was beautifully cut.

  When her sisters had seen her wearing the new bonnet trimmed with flowers they were awe-struck into silence, until Faith, breaking the tension, asked:

  “How many years will you have to wear that gown before I can have it?”

  “I will send it to you as soon as I am given another,” Dominica promised.

  There were so many things to do at the last moment, so many instructions to give to Mallika that Dominica had little time to think about her own feelings or to worry about what lay ahead.

  Only in the darkness of the night had she felt a little tremor of fear when she thought of Gerald Warren waiting for her, and wondered if he was feeling as apprehensive about her as she was about him.

  She at least could picture him as being very like his Uncle, and that was a consolation in itself.

  But he had no yard-stick by which to measure her, and she wondered if perhaps he was feeling angry and rebellious at the idea of being married off to a stranger.

  She knew that Lord Hawkston had written to his nephew on Monday, and to make quite certain he received the letter and that it was not delayed he had sent it by a bearer, paying the fare of the man from Colombo to the plantation and back again.

  Lord Hawkston did not tell Dominica whether he had told the bearer to wait for an answer. She fancied that he had not expected one, being quite certain that his nephew would obey his wishes without argument.

  All the same it was impossible not to feel extremely apprehensive as the train, after a four-hour journey, steamed into Kandy and Dominica knew they were to change trains for the last part of their journey.

  She had always been told that Kandy was beautiful and that it was the last stronghold of the Ceylonese Kings with its Sacred Temple of the Tooth overlooking an artificial lake.

  But she had not expected it to be so beautiful.

  There were over two hours to wait before their connecting train went on into the Central Province, which would take them, Lord Hawkston said, within five miles of his plantation.

  Because he knew it would interest her he hired a carriage and they drove through the town and along the side of the lake.

  Everywhere there were orchids, jasmines, magnolias, the orange and crimson flowers of the asocas and the delicate white blossoms of the champee which had a strong and lovely scent.

  “Did you know that Krishna, the Hindu God of Love, tips his arrows with the champee flowers?” Dominica asked.

  “Does that make them more effective?” Lord Hawkston enquired with a smile.

  “The Brahmins think so.”

  Then daringly she asked:

  “Have you ever been in love, My Lord?”

  “Not enough to wish to sacrifice my freedom,” he replied.

  “That means your answer is ‘no’,” Dominica said. “I am sure if one is really in love there is no sacrifice one would not make; nothing one would not relinquish!”

  “You sound as if you have been reading some very romantic novels,” he said accusingly.

  “Papa would not allow a novel in the house,” Dominica said, “but I know love ... real love, if we find it, would be too strong for us to ... resist it.”

  Even as she spoke she knew she was being indiscreet to talk in such a manner with Lord Hawkston, seeing that he had persuaded her to marry his nephew without love, without even affection. But the beauty all around her made her almost irresistibly think of love.

  As if he wished to change the subject Lord Hawkston told Dominica how brave the Kandyans had been and how they were the last inhabitants of Ceylon to hold out against the conquest of the country by the British.

  He told her too about Asia’s most spectacular pageant, the Esala Perahera, which had been held at Kandy for the last two thousand years.

  “You will enjoy it,” he said. “The gaily caparisoned elephants, the drummers and dancers, the Chieftains in jewelled costumes, the whip-crackers, all combine to make it the most impressive spectacle I have ever seen.”

  “I have often wondered how, or w
hy, Ceylon possessed the tooth of Buddha,” Dominica said.

  As she spoke she was watching the women in their brilliant saris climbing the steps into the Temple. In their hands they carried the flowers of the champee tree to lay like prayers before the shrine.

  “The famous relic is said by legend to have come here concealed in the hair of a Princess fleeing from India during the war,” Lord Hawkston replied.

  He paused to add with a smile:

  “I suspect her hair was as long and luxuriant as yours.”

  Dominica blushed.

  “How do you know ... my hair is ... like that?”

  “I guessed that you have difficulty in arranging it.”

  Dominica looked worried.

  “Perhaps I could be more fashionable if I cut some of it off.”

  “You are to do nothing of the kind,” Lord Hawkston said positively. “A woman should have long hair, it is part of her femininity and undoubtedly your crowning glory.”

  Dominica blushed again; at the same time she felt a little glow of delight at his words. They were a compliment!

  There were so many things she wanted to ask him and so much she wanted to learn that all too quickly it was time to return to the station and once again they were travelling northward.

  “This is very different,” he said as the train moved out of the station, “from the days when I first bought my plantation, when I used to have to ride down to Kandy. There was only a dusty track on which we conveyed the coffee by bullock cart.”

  He smiled and added:

  “Now we can hardly visualise the days when Governor North made a tour of the island with 160 palanquin-bearers, 400 coolies, two elephants and fifty lascoreens!”

  “It must have given them many a headache to try to accommodate such a large party,” Dominica exclaimed.

  She tried to talk naturally but every mile they progressed made her feel more nervous and more afraid.

  She knew only too well that Lord Hawkston expected her to be calm and sensible. That, after all, was the reason he had chosen her to be the wife of his nephew, and if she appeared at all hysterical he would despise her.