Moon over Eden
Barbara Cartland Ebooks Ltd
This edition © 2018
Copyright Cartland Promotions 1976
eBook conversion by M-Y Books
Barbara Cartland, who sadly died in May 2000 at the grand age of ninety eight, remains one of the world’s most famous romantic novelists. With worldwide sales of over one billion, her outstanding 723 books have been translated into thirty six different languages, to be enjoyed by readers of romance globally.
Writing her first book ‘Jigsaw’ at the age of 21, Barbara became an immediate bestseller. Building upon this initial success, she wrote continuously throughout her life, producing bestsellers for an astonishing 76 years. In addition to Barbara Cartland’s legion of fans in the UK and across Europe, her books have always been immensely popular in the USA. In 1976 she achieved the unprecedented feat of having books at numbers 1 & 2 in the prestigious B. Dalton Bookseller bestsellers list.
Although she is often referred to as the ‘Queen of Romance’, Barbara Cartland also wrote several historical biographies, six autobiographies and numerous theatrical plays as well as books on life, love, health and cookery. Becoming one of Britain’s most popular media personalities and dressed in her trademark pink, Barbara spoke on radio and television about social and political issues, as well as making many public appearances.
In 1991 she became a Dame of the Order of the British Empire for her contribution to literature and her work for humanitarian and charitable causes.
Known for her glamour, style, and vitality Barbara Cartland became a legend in her own lifetime. Best remembered for her wonderful romantic novels and loved by millions of readers worldwide, her books remain treasured for their heroic heroes, plucky heroines and traditional values. But above all, it was Barbara Cartland’s overriding belief in the positive power of love to help, heal and improve the quality of life for everyone that made her truly unique.
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I visited Sri Lanka in 1975 and was thrilled with the exquisite almost unbelievable beauty of the country, the charm and friendliness of its people and I was fascinated by its history.
The background of this book is all authentic and the success of Ceylon tea after the failure of coffee was immortalised by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle when he wrote,
“Not often is it that men have the heart, when their one great industry is withered, to rear up in a few years another as rich to take its place and the tea fields of Ceylon are as true a monument to courage as is the lion at Waterloo.”
James Taylor was not only the first man on the island to grow tea commercially but he also manufactured and sold it. His enterprise as an attempt to retrieve the tragedy of coffee, which ruined thousands of people, became a sparkle of hope in Ceylon’s economy. When he died his labourers called him Sami Durai, ‘the Master who is God’.
In 1873 the export of tea from Sri Lanka was just twenty-eight pounds in weight and one hundred years later it was more than four hundred and forty-five million pounds in weight.
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 that 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 that he will make us go on wearing our old dresses and those hateful hideous bonnets!” Faith declared 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, burn your old ones!”
“Burn them?”
The words were almost a shriek.
“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 bareheaded.”
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 that the gowns will be lovely – as lovely as mine – and Lord Hawkston told Madame Fernando that 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 admonished her.
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’s so exciting!”
“We can hardly believe that you are giving us such wonderful presents.”
“I shall look forward to seeing you dressed as you should be,” Lord Hawkston smiled and Dominica fancied that there was a twinkle in his eyes.
Prudence, who had said little, now came to stand beside him.
“I think you’re very kind,” she said with a slight lisp. “I’ll marry you when I am 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 that she was a small replica of Dominica. She had the same ash-blonde hair, grey eyes and small straight nose.
She looked fragile and he guessed that she was the weakest member of the family.
“Will you wait?” Prudence asked again 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 that their father would permit unpalatable.
The rice fields alternated with jungle-covered knolls that 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 seven hundred feet below them and below that another descent of more than one thousand 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 travelling dress was very elegant and the small jacket that lay beside her on another seat was beautifully cut.
When her sisters had seen her wearing her new bonnet trimmed with flowers, they were awestruck 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 her.
There were so many things to do at the last moment and 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 yardstick to measure her by 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 that 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 was told that 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 quite so glorious.
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 and 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, 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 that 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 and 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 at least the last two thousand years.
“You will enjoy it,” he said. “The gaily caparisoned elephants, the drummers and dancers, the Chieftains in jewelled costumes and the whip-crackers all combine to make it the most impressive spectacle I have ever seen.”
“I have often wondered how or why Ceylon possessed the tooth of Buddha,” Dominica remarked.
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 lie 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 a 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 stipulated positively. “A woman should have long hair, it is part of her femininity, and undoubtedly yours is 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 for us to convey 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 one hundred and sixty palanquin bearers, four hundred 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 why he had chosen her to be the wife of his nephew and if she appeared at all hysterical he would despise her.
Accordingly she forced herself to speak naturally and she was aware that he was trying to put her at her ease and make everything seem quite commonplace.
“I told Gerald in my letter not after all to meet us at Kandy,” he said. “I thought it would be difficult for you to converse together for the first time in a rattling train. You will meet him at the house I built myself and I am very proud of it.”
“Was it a difficult task?” Dominica asked.
“It was one I greatly enjoyed,” Lord Hawkston replied. “At first the building was much smaller than it is now and my plans received a setback when the coffee failed. Then, when tea began to come into its own, I resumed the work and the house and garden were actually completed only a year before I had to return to England.”
There was a note in his voice that told Dominica all too clearly that this was another reason why he hated to leave Ceylon.
“Perhaps as a woman you will find many things that I have omitted,” he said with a smile, “but to me my house seemed nearly perfect and its position could not be improved on anywhere else in Ceylon.”
“I am sure that I shall admire it very much,” Dominica said in a low voice.
She hoped as she spoke that she would also admire its present occupant.
Supposing Gerald Warren had a broken heart for the girl he had lost and could not bear the thought of another woman taking her place?
‘I must be very kind and understanding,’ Dominica told herself.
She was used to being gentle and compassionate.
After her mother had died her father often insisted that she went with him when he visited the families in the native quarters whom he considered his special charges.
Many of them were old, ill or dying. Some of them were deformed. A number of children were sick.
As if he read her thoughts. Lord Hawkston asked unexpectedly,
“What did you do when you accompanied your father on his visiting?”
“Papa is always trying to convert the Ceylonese to Christianity,” Dominica answered. “Mama used to say he should have been a Missionary. There are many families who have been baptised by Papa and he never allows them to become indifferent to their promises.”
She gave a little smile.
“Sometimes I think he bullies them into being Christians whether they like it or not. He is certainly very severe if they miss Church on Sunday without a really valid excuse.”
Lord Hawkston was quite certain that the Ceylonese, who were an easy-going and friendly people, were easily pressured by the Vicar into doing what he wished, but aloud he said,
“You have not told me what you did.”
“I looked after the children while Papa remonstrated with their parents or I would try to make the elderly and the sick comfortable. I think many of them just enjoyed seeing me because I was someone to talk to.”
“I can believe that,” Lord Hawkston commented.
Dominica looked out of the train.
Walking along the roadway that ran beside the railway line she could see a Buddhist Priest in the bright saffron yellow robe that proclaimed his calling.
“I can never understand,” she said speaking her thoughts aloud, “why any Buddhist should ever be willing to change his religion to Christianity. Buddhism is such a happy religion.”
“You have read about it?” Lord Hawkston enquired.
“And talked with many Buddhists,” Dominica replied and then added hastily, “Not that Papa would have approved, but I was so interested in their beliefs, in fact I have often wished that I was a Buddhist.”
“Perhaps you were in a previous incarnation,” Lord Hawkston suggested.
She smiled at him.
“Do you, like them, believe in reincarnation?”
“Shall I say I consider it a possibility,” he replied.
Dominica’s eyes were alight with interest.
“It seems the only just – the only right explanation of all the troubles and ills of the world,” she said. “The Priests are so dedicated, yet quiet and unobtrusive. They never force their convictions on anyone.”
Lord Hawkston knew that she was thinking of what a contrast they were to her father.
He had begun in the last few days to realise that Dominica was extremely intelligent and thought far more seriously than he would have expected any other girl of her age to do.
He supposed in a way it was part of her unusual upbringing and yet despite her ignorance of the social world he could not help realising that she had a mind that could not be confined and would touch heights that other people would never reach.
“I will tell you something that will please you,” he said unexpectedly.
“What is that?” Dominica enquired.
“I have already written to the bookshop in Kandy to despatch a consignment of their very latest volumes to the plantation.”
The way Dominica's face lit up told him how pleased she was even before the words came to her lips.
“You will have plenty of time for reading,” Lord Hawkston said, “when Gerald is out in the fields, but there is one thing I must say to you.”
“What is that?” Dominica asked a little nervously.
“You must not do any work in the house yourself.”
“Why not?” she queried.
“Because you will have an adequate supply of servants and to take over what is their work would be to insult them and suggest that you do not think they are competent.”
“And if they do things wrong?”
“Then, of course, you can explain exactly what you require,” Lord Hawkston replied. “But no scrubbing, no washing or dusting!”
“What about cooking?” Dominica asked faintly.
“The cook I have in my house is extremely proficient. If by any chance he has left, which I think is highly unlikely, then of course you can teach whoever takes his place, but you are not, and let me make this quite clear, Dominica, you are not to cook yourself.”
She gave a little sigh and then she said,
“I can see you are turning me into a grand lady. No wonder you have ordered a number of books for me to read. But what may I do?”
“You can ride for one thing,” Lord Hawkston answered “I have a feeling that you would look well on a horse.”
“We used to ride a pony when we were children,” Dominica said, “but when he died we could not afford another one.”
“I will teach you to ride,” Lord Hawkston said and then added as if it was an afterthought, “unless Gerald wishes to do so himself.”
The train drew up at the Station where they were to disembark at about half past three in the afternoon.
Before they reached Kandy they had eaten at midday out of a delicious luncheon basket that Lord Hawkston had brought with him from the Queen’s House.
There had been delectable and exciting dishes such as Dominica had never tasted before and there was a golden wine to drink, which she felt was bottled sunshine.
Now, as they stepped out of the Station, she felt a little sick and wondered if it was from an inner fear or whether she had eaten too much at luncheon.
There was a carriage waiting for them and, as Lord Hawkston directed the porter who was collecting the luggage from the van, a Ceylonese man came towards him.
“Ranjan!” Lord Hawkston exclaimed. “How nice of you to meet me.”
He shook the man by the hand then turned to Dominica,
“This is Ranjan, Dominica,” he said, “my Overseer, whom I left in charge when I went to England. It is good to see you, Ranjan.”
“You too, Durai,” Ranjan replied. “We are hoping you come back.”
“Is everything all right?” Lord Hawkston asked.
“No, Durai, Plenty trouble,” Ranjan replied.
“I heard that there were some difficulties,” Lord Hawkston said, “but it is something, I promise you, I will put right.”
“What happen now no one put right,” Ranjan said in a low voice.
Tactfully Dominica turned aside, but she could still hear what the two men were saying.
“What has happened?” Lord Hawkston asked sharply.
“Seetha, girl Sinna Durai turn away, dead. We find body bottom of torrent this morning.”
Dominica was aware that Lord Hawkston was suddenly rigid. He had stopped moving and was standing in the sunshine facing the Overseer whose sarong was a patch of colour against the wooden walls of the Station buildings.
“She killed herself,” Lord Hawkston said almost beneath his breath.
“Yes, Durai. Lakshman, Seetha’s father, swear revenge!”
“You must find him, Ranjan,” Lord Hawkston said firmly. “Find him immediately. Tell him how I will give him full compensation and more for what he has suffered.”
“I try, Durai,” Ranjan answered, “but he plenty mad. Too late for money.”
“You must try, Ranjan. Say I have just arrived. Say I am extremely upset at what has occurred and ask him to come and see me immediately.”
“I do that, Durai,” Ranjan answered, but Dominica thought that his tone was doubtful.
“I will see you later,” Lord Hawkston said.
Then in another tone of voice to Dominica,