Chapter 7
‘Where is she, Wade?’ asked Thea, dropping her cloak into the butler’s arms as she and George entered her family’s house at Portland Square.
‘Her room, I believe, Your Grace,’ he said in his deep voice as he held out a hand for George’s coat. Thea was already halfway up the stairs.
‘Good to see you Wade,’ she shouted behind her.
‘And you, Your Grace,’ came the fading voice in the hallway. She heard the smile in his voice.
‘Urs!’ she exclaimed as she rounded the door on the first floor. Her sister turned at the toilette table, a huge smile lighting her face.
‘Thea!’ They embraced warmly, Agnes standing back from fixing Ursula’s hair but keeping hold of a curl in one hand.
Thea missed her youngest sister more than she could say.
They wrote frequently, but now their country retreats were in different counties and Ursula rarely ventured to town, preferring to stay with the plants, open countryside and stairless access to her rooms at the Morell’s Milford estate in Sussex.
‘How long are you staying?’ she asked, eager to have her sister in town for a while.
‘Around four weeks,’ said Ursula. ‘Father thinks we should travel back before December and the worst of the weather although of course Mother wants to stay on for the new year. It’ll be nice to see people and catch up, but you know how it is.
’ Thea did. Why her parents couldn’t put a room downstairs in London for her sister Thea didn’t know – on the first floor she was dependent on someone carrying both her and her chair every time she wished to move from bedroom to living. She nodded.
‘Then I shall have to make the most of you.’
‘I wish Tab felt the same,’ said Ursula. Thea looked at her questioningly. ‘She isn’t coming,’ said Ursula sadly. Thea frowned. They had arranged this dinner as a welcome for Ursula, and the whole family was supposed to be there.
‘Why not?’ asked Thea.
Ursula shrugged. ‘She’s back from the continent but can’t afford the travel to London or doesn’t want to, I suppose.’ She sounded disappointed but resigned. Thea wouldn’t have her sad, just because their irresponsible middle sister couldn’t manage her time or her finances.
‘Then you shall have to make do with me,’ she said, whilst Agnes piled hair on top of Ursula’s head. Putting the final pins in place, she left to fetch powder.
‘How are you?’ asked Ursula as soon as they were alone. She gave that probing look only her sister could give. Thea swallowed.
‘Fine.’ Ursula gave her a look which said she knew it wasn’t true.
Thea couldn’t lie to her completely, but she could keep from Ursula just how bad the situation was.
The last thing she wanted to do was to make her sister feel guilty.
She put on a smile. ‘You know I’m fine, Urs.
I have a job, I do it as well as I am able, and I have three gorgeous children out of it. ’
‘Are they with Annie?’ asked Ursula.
‘Yes, thank goodness. They struggle being in London more than they do the country, but she keeps them entertained and Mr Fenwick is tutoring them too.’
‘They’ll turn out even cleverer than you!’ smiled Ursula. ‘You said Annie is always teaching them things too?’
‘Most definitely,’ said Thea. ‘Edward loves to paint and draw and is always strutting around singing, and Samantha is still into her animals. Abigail is too young to tell yet, but mostly she enjoys being a terror. Annie has them all down to a tee.’
Ursula laughed. ‘What does George think about Edward’s tendency to the arts?’
Thea hesitated. ‘He would prefer more rugged pursuits, but on the whole he is supportive of them.’ She hated not being honest, but how could she be?
‘Good,’ said Ursula, thankfully believing her. ‘And any word from Martha?’
Thea looked at her hands and shook her head. ‘Nothing.’ She swallowed as her throat became thick.
Ursula’s eyebrows drew together, and she laid a hand on Thea’s arm. ‘I got Scip to take me to Denbury again. Anyone else would have asked questions but he was happy to. I wanted to see if I could catch anyone in.’
Thea sat up and her heart beat fast. ‘And did you see anything?’
Ursula’s eyes showed pity. ‘Nothing more than last time, Thea, I’m sorry. The house is still shut up, someone is still tending to the garden, but there was nobody there.’
‘If Martha’s paying them, she must be alright,’ said Thea. ‘That’s good.’ She tried to smile, but Ursula’s touch let her know that she understood. It was both reassuring and devastating. If Martha was well, why wouldn’t she have been in touch?
‘Unless Mrs Jenkins is still acting on her orders and isn’t sure,’ said Ursula, ‘but it seems most likely that she is well.’
Thea nodded. Ursula was one of the few people who knew about her relationship with Martha and how much it had devastated her when she left on her global voyage. At least she didn’t have to hide how much the news affected her in front of her sister.
‘I sometimes direct Sanders home by way of Foxmore Square,’ said Thea. ‘In fact, sometimes he just drives us through there now in the carriage. The house there is shut up every time. I have written to Mrs Jenkins at Denbury and received nothing back. I just don’t know what else I can do.’
‘It’s difficult to write while you are at sea,’ said Ursula reassuringly. ‘You have to wait until you reach a port or a passing ship and how easily a small envelope can go missing.’
‘It’s been over five years, Urs,’ said Thea, the sadness squeezing at her. ‘Two since the last letter.’ She didn’t want to say it, but felt she had to. ‘She must have been back and not told me.’
‘Not necessarily,’ said Ursula. ‘You know she went from the Cape to Sumatra and back – she might be using it as a base to go elsewhere.’
‘Maybe,’ said Thea, recalling Martha’s early letters with fondness. ‘But there are always ways you can get a letter back. I just want to…’ her voice cracked, and Ursula gripped her arm.
‘Thea.’
‘I just want to know,’ said Thea, finding her voice again.
‘If she’s found someone else, or simply decided that a life at sea was preferable to sitting at polite teas in polite society seven days a week just so you might be able to spend an hour alone now and again with the woman you love.
Or loved once. I would just like to know. ’
‘I’m sure–’ started Ursula, but was cut short by the reappearance of Agnes and the powder.
It was probably best, as Thea wasn’t sure she could hold in the emotion with Ursula, and dinner wouldn’t be good with tear tracks down her face.
‘I better greet mother and father,’ she said, squeezing Ursula’s hands and standing. Ursula squeezed her back.
Conversation at dinner was largely led by Thea’s mother.
Mrs Morell did love an audience. She had taken pleasure in the closer links between the Hartfords and the Morells following Thea’s marriage and the Dowager Duchess – George’s mother – was in attendance, in addition to both George’s sisters Helena and Cassandra and their respective husbands.
Thea bore it as a welcome-to-town for her family but preferred it when she could just visit the British Museum with her father and sister and they could catch up by themselves.
Mr Morell took advantage of his wife engaging the Dowager Duchess in direct conversation to chat with his daughter.
‘Any particular seeds for the spring?’ he asked.
Thea shrugged. ‘Not so many, I am struggling to get supplies.’ She heard George inhale through his nose next to her and tensed a little. ‘I am hopeful to pick some up from Mr Collinson’s company before we return to Hawkdean.
‘I am sure you shall,’ said her father. ‘I hear there are some interesting specimens come in from the Middle East.’
‘I shall look out for it,’ she said, before taking a piece of veal. ‘How is your own growing coming on, father?’
‘Oh quite well,’ said Mr Morell. ‘The Saracenias and Dioneas of Martha’s are thriving and the Hoya flowered this year. Lovely scent. But I hear there is some sort of competition afoot with the King protea?’
Thea was keen to gloss over this, as she knew George and his family wouldn’t have anything nice to say. ‘I don’t think I shall be participating,’ she said quickly. ‘I have tried Protea in the past to no avail and I’m sure the queen wouldn’t want me on her advisory board.’
Mr Morell put down his fork. ‘Nonsense,’ he said. ‘The queen is an absolute advocate for ladies, and I can think of nobody better. You should definitely get seed and try again.’
‘Unlikely,’ said George, from his seat next to Thea. She tensed some more. He was on his fifth glass of wine and tended to become objectionable after the fourth. She counted, these days.
‘Probably,’ she said quietly, hoping it would placate him, but she noticed her father sawing at his meat rather vigorously.
‘You won’t because they are valuable,’ he said, ‘and cannot be wasted willy-nilly. We have talked about this.’
‘I know,’ said Thea quietly, hoping to halt the conversation and spare her pride. George took another slug of wine.
‘Knatchbull and Herbert inform me that the seeds go to the proper growers and when they have had success and there are plenty to go around, then they go to the hobby gardeners.’
Thea clenched her teeth but said nothing. So much for her pride. She could feel her father glowering across from her but knew she shouldn’t argue with George. He could boil over quickly when in this mood and she hoped not to sour the dinner.
‘Then I shall wait until they are more widely available,’ she said gently. She saw her father swallow.
‘I believe you understand that the duchess is an eminently proficient natural philosopher.’ His voice was quiet. ‘You have said so yourself on a number of occasions in the past.’