Flowers For the God of Love by Barbara Cartland

Flowers For the God of Love by Barbara Cartland

Author:Barbara Cartland
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781788671675
Publisher: Barbara Cartland Ebooks Ltd
Published: 2019-02-28T16:00:00+00:00


In Bombay a number of Officials came aboard with messages from the Viceroy and heavily sealed Diplomatic Bags were brought into the cabin to be locked away in one of Rex’s trunks until he had time to open them.

He had decided that they should go on by ship to Calcutta.

The alternative was to take the train across India, but he was eager for Quenella to have her first glimpse of India in one of the strangest and yet the most attractive of her Cities.

Therefore in Bombay they immediately transferred onto another Liner and continued their voyage to the Capital of the Indian Empire.

It was on their arrival in Calcutta that Quenella for the first time was aware of her husband’s importance.

As they stepped onto the quay, there were a number of resplendent Officials to greet them and they were escorted to Government House in the Viceroy’s carriage by a squadron of Cavalry.

To Quenella there was something very fascinating about the colourful crowds in the streets moving slowly in the hot moist air and chattering away in many of the eight hundred languages that Rex had told her were spoken in India.

There was no doubt that she was excited by what she saw.

They drove in the open carriage with a huge umbrella held over their heads by servants wearing the Viceroy’s livery of red with gold insignia.

As they travelled through the crowded streets, Rex pointed out men of the Rajput States, bearded Sikhs from the Punjab, each carrying a huge sword from which he was never parted, the clever argumentative Bengalis and those with a Mongolian slant to their eyes, who might have come from Sikkim, Bhutan or Assam.

But what fascinated Quenella more than anything were the saris worn by the women.

They were in every colour of the rainbow and combined with wreaths of fresh flowers in their hair, which made them appear like Goddesses from another planet after the dull beige crowds of London.

Government House was as impressive as Rex had told Quenella it would be.

The Palace, built by the Earl of Mornington, elder brother of the famous Duke of Wellington was a symbol of British power.

Huge lions surmounted the gates, sphinxes couchant guarded its doors and there were cannons on pale blue carriages.

Brilliant Indian lancers chattered through the courtyards, while thirteen aides-de-camp deferentially awaited instructions.

Strangely enough the house had originally been built as an adaptation of Kedleston Hall in Derbyshire, which was the ancestral home of Lord Curzon, the present Viceroy.

“It seems almost meant that he would one day inhabit it in the greatest position next to the Queen that any Englishman could aspire,” Rex had told her.

“Is that true?” Quenella asked.

“The Viceroy of India has few Peers in Asia,” he answered. “The Czar of Russia and the Emperor of China are scarcely his superiors. The Shah of Persia and the King of Siam tread carefully in his presence and the King of Burma is actually his prisoner.”

Quenella laughed.

“The Viceroy certainly must feel that he is a person of significance.



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