By Eastern windows by Gretta Curran Browne Read Free Book Online Page A

covered piazza to shade the rooms from the sun.
    In the cantonments of Colaba the soldiers of the 77 th sweated through exercises forced upon them by their drill-sergeant, whilst their officers relaxed in their quarters or sipped drinks on the shaded veranda of the San Souci Club.
    General Sir Robert Abercromby had been promoted to the post of Governor-General of Bombay. To celebrate, he decided to hold a ‘Grand Ball’ at Government House.
    ‘ You, CaptainMacquarie , have been chosen as manager of the event,’ Colonel Balfour told Lachlan in a proud voice.
    No, you have been chosen to manage it, Lachlan thought wearily, but you can’t be bothered, so you are delegating it down to me.
    ‘You will, of course, have the assistance of a platoon of duty aides,’ Balfour added. ‘And we shall want a good show. Plenty of dancing and feasting and no expense spared. Something to delight the women and give them something to write home about, eh?’
    Balfour paused. ‘But also … General Abercromby has also asked me to come up with some form of entertainment, yet I’m damned if I can think of anything. Any ideas, Captain? A young man like you should be able to come up with something exciting.’
    Lachlan thought, and shook his head. ‘No, sir, I can’t think of anything.’
    ‘Nothing at all? Nothing that would delight and entertain our civilian guests?’ Balfour pursed his lips in disappointment, and then began to fume. ‘Why is it that none of my officers are capable of coming up with a single idea of any kind?’
    Because they are soldiers, not entertainers, Lachlan thought wryly. The battlefield was hardly instructive in the ways of civilian socialising. The battlefield was a place … Lachlan’s eyes became fixed and distant for a moment as a sudden idea came to him.
    ‘How about a fireworks display, sir?’
    ‘A fireworks display?’
    ‘It would be very easy to arrange. And it would give our civilian guests some idea of the rocket flares and cannon explosions on the battlefield.’
    ‘A fireworks display! Why, that’s an excellent idea!’ Colonel Balfour beamed. ‘We are the military after all, and I’m sure General Abercrombie will approve.’  
    Balfour rubbed his hands together in anticipated pleasure. ‘Well, I shall leave all the arrangements in your hands, Captain, while I attend to the business of choosing plenty of good claret – wonderful stuff for making an evening jolly!' He gave a chuckle of approval. ‘And it will do us all good to have some time in the company of women. Too long since we have had any time to spare for women, dear boy.’
    ‘Yes, sir, too long.’
    ‘Oh, damned if I forgot – ‘ Balfour swatted an invisible fly, ‘but being on duty on the night, Macquarie, you won't be able to dance with any of the young ladies, will you?’
    ‘No I bloody will not, you bastard,’ Lachlan thought, but his face showed only a slight smile.   ‘Regrettably not, sir.’
    ‘Such a pity!’ Balfour exclaimed. ‘Still, duty first.’
     
    *
     
    The arrangements and organisation for the ball at Government House were carried out with all the precision and efficiency of a battle campaign. On the night, a guard of sepoys stood to attention around the lawns of the house while inside a battalion of uniformed native servants waited in readiness to serve.
    At precisely seven o'clock the guests began to arrive in streams: officers resplendent in scarlet coats with gold loops and chains, others in the pale blue and gold of the Light Cavalry or the green of the Rifle regiments; all every bit as colourful as the ladies in their shimmering gowns of every shade and hue.
    By half past seven the ball was in full swing with guests still arriving. Lachlan moved around the outskirts of the ballroom conferring with other duty-aides, occasionally pausing to speak and joke with some of his fellow officers.
    As the night progressed the room became unbearably noisy with hysterically happy laughter, ladies