Chapter 12
Thea had graced Mother Courage’s palm with enough silver to keep her employees going for months, but she didn’t care.
Frankie was with her at Whitehall, and she felt a little spike of hope.
She might not yet be able to move on from Martha emotionally, but she could distract herself with productive pursuits.
‘Good morning,’ she said as cheerily as she could manage. George only grunted as he sat down. Joan bobbed to them both. ‘Thank you, Joan,’ said Thea, and indicated she was dismissed.
‘That one turning out ok?’ asked George, flatly.
‘Excellent,’ said Thea. ‘Thorough and attentive.’ She looked at him, a little puzzled. ‘But she has been with us for five years.’
‘Can never be too careful with that type,’ said George.
‘What type?’ she asked, certain that she already knew.
George waved his hand in the direction of the door as Sanders filled his cup. ‘You know exactly what I mean,’ he said. ‘I know your family are used to foreigners in the house, but the Crowes are not. Too risky.’
‘I have no need at all to be careful with her,’ Thea said, the hairs on her neck standing up in rage. ‘I should struggle without her.’
‘Should be grateful for what she has here,’ said George.
Thea clenched her teeth and took in a slow breath through her nose.
That English people so readily assumed that anyone not from England should be grateful to them, however hard they worked, never failed to astonish her.
She decided it was best to change the subject and steeled herself for the conversation.
‘I have taken on a new head gardener,’ she said as George reached for a roll.
He paused in his selection, and Thea held her breath.
She knew he liked to be consulted, even if she managed the staff.
‘I have let Elton go so there will be no impact to the current estate finances,’ she added, ‘which I assume you would be happy for me to continue to manage?’ She said it meekly, but it felt a little defiant.
The estate was his role that he was failing in.
The look in his eyes was hard, but he retrieved a roll and put it on his plate. ‘Fine,’ was all he said. There was a silence and she sipped her coffee. Surely it couldn’t be that easy?
‘The gardener starts with immediate effect and shall be sent to Hawkdean as soon as we can manage.’ She tried to keep her tone light. She had expected more challenge than this.
‘Fine,’ said George again, sitting back and rubbing his temples. Her heart rate started to slow a little, before he spoke up again. ‘If, as I hope, you have taken on a decent one this time, we should send some plants to Knatchbull.’
She sat quietly, wondering how to respond in a way that wouldn’t anger him. ‘Of course,’ she tried eventually, ‘but I thought you considered him a superior grower even though you dislike him?’
‘Indeed, on both counts,’ said George, ‘but it is plants he values and we must maintain reciprocal relationships with influential families. His influence is rising, I am afraid to say and he sends us game from his estate on an almost weekly basis. It is quite irritating.’
‘His influence is rising in politics or with the royals?’ asked Thea, still confused.
Her husband dismissed her interest with a wave of the hand and she knew not to pursue the subject any further.
He had always tried to limit her and she knew he wouldn’t support her place on the queen’s advisory board if she germinated the Protea, but he had never shown an interest in being able to influence Knatchbull through botanical gifts before. What had changed? She didn’t dare ask.
Instead, wondering if she could take further advantage of his presumably sore and absent state, Thea put down her cup.
‘I hope to travel to Hawkdean at the same time as the gardener. I would like to ensure the place is set up for when you return.’ Her heart beat fast. She knew he wouldn’t like it, but she was so keen to get on with Frankie.
George huffed and then turned his head to her. ‘You may go after the masquerade.’ It wasn’t a question, and she wouldn’t expect it to be. She was required to be wherever George wanted her, but she really had hoped to miss the dress-up ball.
‘I was hoping you wouldn’t mind if I went a little earlier,’ she tried, a little more pleadingly than she would have liked. ‘I won’t be missed.’
‘You would be missed,’ he said gruffly. She knew he didn’t mean by him.
‘You are my wife, and it is expected by the palace that you attend. You know our relations are delicate there and bloody Knatchbull is all over the queen. Now the King is set on throwing these god-awful public parties we must be in attendance.’
‘Nobody would know,’ said Thea, knowing it wasn’t wise to push but doing so anyway. ‘The point of a masquerade is that everyone is anonymous.’
‘I would know.’ George was tetchy now and tapping his fingers on the table. ‘And I fail to see how you are needed at Hawkdean? The staff are quite capable.’
‘But the children will go in two weeks, and the masquerade is a month away and I thought–’
‘Never mind what you thought.’ George interrupted her, pushing his chair back and standing. ‘You will attend the masquerade; you will remain in London until I say you are able to go. You must learn what is important, and you must learn your place.’
‘Come and meet the children,’ said Thea to Frankie later that day. ‘They will be journeying to the country sooner than I, and you will travel with them and Annie.’
‘How far is it?’ asked Frankie.
‘About fifty miles.’ Thea pushed open the door to the nursery. ‘To the southwest of London.’ Frankie hung behind.
‘Fifty miles?!’ Thea turned around to see Frankie’s eyes grow wide as Edward rushed towards them. She picked him up. ‘It’s really not that far.’
‘I’ve never been further than Enfield, and that was only to pick up a red oak.’
‘Annie will look after you,’ said Thea, stepping into the room. ‘Annie, meet Frankie. She’s our new gardener.’ Annie grinned in her engaging way, balancing Abigail on her hip and coming closer to meet Frankie.
‘A pleasure I am sure,’ she said. ‘And it’ll be nice to have some help with the children on the journey.’ Frankie looked panicked.
‘I’ve never been very good with children,’ she said, shrinking away from Abigail’s hands which now reached out to her.
‘You will be, by the time we get there,’ said Annie with a smile. Thea grinned; she had always liked Annie’s sense of humour. She left her in the process of passing a toddler to a nervous Frankie, whose eyes were wide with fright.
‘Now,’ she said, moving towards the table where Samantha sat at a small chair, a book open in front of her. ‘What do we have here?’ She put Edward down and sat on a small chair.
‘A Pretty Little Pocket Book,’ said Samantha, playing with her mother’s fingers on the table.
‘It’s a new favourite,’ said Annie. ‘It comes with a pincushion for girls and a ball for boys, but Samantha wanted the ball and Edward the pincushion.’
‘That’s mummy’s girl,’ said Thea, stroking Samantha’s hair. ‘So, this is your new favourite?’ Samantha afforded the question some grave consideration.
‘I still like animals better,’ she said at last.
‘That is useful to know,’ said Thea.
‘And this one,’ said Samantha, reaching across the table and pulling towards her a small collection of parchment sheets tied together with string.
‘What is that?’ asked Thea, flipping open the pages. Inside, handwritten verses appeared alongside beautifully drawn images. And some less beautifully drawn images.
‘Me and Annie are writing it,’ explained Samantha as she turned a page to reveal an intricate nautilus shell. ‘When Mr Fenwick shows us things.’
Thea grinned up at Annie but addressed Samantha. ‘Does Annie draw it and you copy it?’
Samantha nodded. Thea flicked through the pages. There were shells, leaves, acorns, and even things like thermometers. Across the room Frankie had put Abigail down on the floor and was busy having something brown smeared on her dress. She looked a little frantic.
‘These are beautiful, Annie,’ said Thea, looking up at the governess. ‘You didn’t draw them yourself?’ Annie went a little pink.
‘I only use the children’s parchment, Your Grace, but they seem to like the pictures and the verses.’
‘Of course they do,’ said Thea, ‘they are wonderful – and of course you are free to use any parchment and ink you like.’
‘Thank you, Your Grace,’ said Annie, and then turned towards Frankie and Abigail who were in the midst of a quiet altercation over whether a tiny chair from the doll’s house should, or should not, go into Frankie’s mouth. Annie took pity on the new gardener.
‘Do you want to read a book to Abigail?’ she asked Frankie. ‘She’s just started enjoying it and it does keep her quiet.’
‘No,’ said Frankie, standing quickly. ‘No, I don’t. I have to be getting on.’ She turned and fled out of the door. Annie’s eyebrow rose as Edward’s hands circled her leg.
‘I can help her with the ways of the house, Your Grace. Can’t have her disrespecting you like that.’
‘No issue,’ said Thea, waving away Frankie’s pre-dismissal retreat. ‘But your help with her would be appreciated.’ Annie nodded and Thea went on. ‘Could you bring them to the parlour a little earlier tonight, Annie, I wish to read them a story myself.’
Annie agreed, and Thea strode out to find her gardener.
She found her in the garden, rubbing at a silver birch trunk with a rag to shine up the white. Frankie turned towards her briefly, and then turned back.
‘Plants is what I’m good at, Your Grace.’ She was huffy. ‘Not kids.’
Thea sat on a bench close to her. ‘You can’t read.’
Frankie whipped round towards her. ‘How did you know? Could you see it on me? I knew I should have never gone into a room with books.’