Chapter 21
‘What on earth is that?’ asked Thea, poking around the glasshouses a couple of days later.
She leaned over to where Musket was on his back legs, nose twitching up towards the plunged pots.
Packages kept arriving from Martha’s contacts, and she had lost count of the things in her house and garden that she didn’t recognise.
She loved it, and felt a little of her old, curious self returning.
Martha had been right. She needed this to feel alive.
Whilst she and Martha still struggled for time together, at least George seemed to be leaving them alone.
Coupled with the green of the countryside, she felt almost happy.
Frankie wandered over to peer at what she was looking at. ‘Oh, she said. ‘Rabbit droppings.’
‘Rabbit droppings?’ asked Thea, hoping to gain a little more insight.
‘Exactly,’ said Frankie. She didn’t look too worried, so Thea deduced that rabbits weren’t running wild in the glasshouse and eating all the seedlings.
‘Why?’ she asked finally, when it became clear that Frankie wasn’t going to be any more forthcoming.
‘I’m trying some new seed treatments for the protea,’ said Frankie. ‘Now we have loads of seed, I’m experimenting more.’
‘And did you just make it up?’ asked Thea, peering at the small, black nuggets atop the compost.
Frankie hesitated for a moment. ‘Of course not, Your Grace,’ she said. ‘Now I’m better with my reading I’ve been having a look at some of the ideas in the library.’
‘Hmm,’ said Thea. There were plenty of books in the library, but she had never seen anything about rabbit poo.
‘How is the reading going?’ Thea asked, thinking she would address the issue of the droppings at a later date when Frankie was in a more accommodating frame of mind. ‘Are you still making progress?’
‘It’s brilliant,’ said Frankie, smiling broadly. ‘Everything makes sense all of a sudden. Even when Annie comes out here and we look at the plant names. Like all the times I was told I was stupider than the other kids didn’t really matter.’
Thea gritted her teeth. ‘You were not stupider than the other kids. It is simply that everyone excels in different areas. And you have worked hard and found out how you can overcome an obstacle.’
Frankie nodded once. ‘Annie is amazing. I am sure the children will be geniuses.’
‘I am very lucky,’ said Thea, meaning it in earnest.
‘Just watch out for her though,’ said Frankie, a brief pucker to her brow. ‘She’s been looking peaky for a few mornings and not at her best. Seems to perk up later in the day, though.’
Thea blinked at her. ‘What sort of peaky?’
‘Just pale and tired,’ said Frankie thoughtfully. ‘And she’s had to run off to the water closet a couple of times in our lessons.’
A horrible thought pricked at Thea’s brain. ‘Do you think,’ she asked, choosing her words carefully, ‘that there might ever be anything going between you and Annie?’
Frankie sputtered a laugh. ‘Goodness, no, Your Grace. She’s an excellent teacher and we have a laugh together, but nothing like that. Anyway, she’s a bit soft on Sanders, and I think he is a bit on her, too.’
‘Is he now?’ said Thea, gritting her teeth, but any further train of thought was interrupted by Fletcher’s entrance.
‘Fletcher,’ she said, ‘how lovely to see you.’
He bowed. ‘A pleasure, Your Grace. I simply came to let you know that another letter arrived from the Knatchbulls. About the shooting party.’
Thea’s insides dropped a little. ‘Thank you, Fletcher, I am sure the duke will me of any details later.’
Fletcher bowed again but hesitated. ‘I wonder if it might be prudent to see him before dinner, Your Grace?’
Thea sighed, knowing that her husband must therefore have some point to make. ‘I will, thank you, Fletcher.’
He shot her an understanding smile and then his eyes focused on the seed bed. ‘Is that?’
‘Rabbit droppings, yes,’ said Thea. Fletcher looked to Frankie.
‘Almost certain this one’s the one,’ she said, tapping her nose. Fletcher nodded again and left.
Thinking to visit Martha in the library before she saw George, Thea made her way there only to almost collide with a body storming down the east corridor. Musket skittered sideways, keeping out of the way.
‘Goodness me,’ she said, gathering herself. ‘Mrs Jenkins?’
Mrs Jenkins looked aghast. ‘I am very sorry, Your Grace, it is just that man. I simply cannot stand his lack of manners!’
‘Mr Crumpacker?’ asked Thea, suspecting she guessed correctly.
‘So rude,’ said Mrs Jenkins. ‘Always telling me what to do and what my lady will want next and all the rest of it. Just because he’s been on a ship or two with her. Like I haven’t been administering to her every need for the past twenty-five years.’
‘Twenty-five years, is it?’ said Thea, raising her brows. ‘Well, I know that Lady Foxmore values your assistance higher than any, Mrs Jenkins. I am sure she is merely humouring Mr Crumpacker.’
Mrs Jenkins fluffed herself up, a bit like a flummoxed chicken. ‘I know they have been through a lot, Your Grace, and I do respect that.’
Thea narrowed her eyes at Mrs Jenkins. There was something she wasn’t saying. ‘Mrs Jenkins, are you – jealous?’ Mrs Jenkins folded her arms and looked away. ‘Are you?’ asked Thea, a little quirk to her lips.
‘Well, it’s just that she’s been away so long and they did so many expeditions with one another and what do I do?
I just sit around here and mend the stockings and make sure she has her right clothes and food and that.
But they’re off trekking through the jungle and camping and fighting antelope or whatever those beasts are that he talks about.
’ Thea understood. She felt it a little herself.
That there was such a big, adventurous part of Marthas’ life that they weren’t a part of.
Something that they would never fully understand, but that Crumpacker had experienced with her.
Thea took Mrs Jenkins’ arms and turned her round to face her. ‘Mrs Jenkins,’ she said calmly. ‘Do you have any idea what Lady Foxmore would have achieved without your presence in her life?’
‘What? asked the housekeeper, huffily.
‘Very little,’ said Thea. ‘She is absolutely indebted to you and is very aware of the fact. Twenty-five years is a lifetime! You have supported her over that time and tended to her every whim.’ Mrs Jenkins started to purse her lips, in a way that said Thea was right.
‘And Mr Crumpacker has come in here, and of course they have shared experiences, but you are the glue that holds it all together and makes all of that possible. I am sick and tired of us rolling over for men and not knowing our own worth.’
That made Mrs Jenkins grin. ‘You really think she is that fond of me?’
‘I know she is,’ said Thea kindly.
Mrs Jenkins seemed to inflate with pride. ‘It’s us that really runs the show, isn’t it, Your Grace?’
‘I am beginning to think so,’ said Thea. ‘Even if we do not think we do.’
‘That Frankie of yours is something else,’ said Mrs Jenkins. ‘Showed me around the glasshouses the other day.’
‘She is quite remarkable,’ said Thea. ‘Making progress in all sorts of areas.’
‘I would never have thought to put them seeds in vinegar and nail clippings to make them sprout,’ said Mrs Jenkins, eyebrows aloft. ‘But I suppose that’s what makes her brilliant.’
Thea paused. ‘I suppose it is,’ she said. What book had Frankie been reading?
‘Thank you, Your Grace,’ said Mrs Jenkins, bobbed once, and Thea dismissed her.
Thea finally made for the library and poked her head around the door.
She clicked open the door to find Martha, alone at one end of the room, peering through a magnifying lens at a flat, green specimen mounted on parchment, and Mr Crumpacker and Mr Fenwick at the other end, poring over some pieces of parchment as Mr Crumpacker chatted on.
Shelves of books, wrapped in dark leather bindings and announcing their titles in black or gilt lettering, swathed the walls.
‘What’s this?’ asked Thea, sitting down next to Martha at the huge, oak table. One thing she had managed to get out of her marriage was a sizeable and well-appointed library. George never came in, so it was the only space in the house they could make mess and work.
‘Unsure,’ said Martha. ‘As yet unnamed. But useful. The natives of Borneo use the wood for timber, the bark for dye and the fruit as cattle feed.’
‘So could be useful here?’ asked Thea. ‘Do we have any?’
Martha shook her head. ‘Wasn’t its seeding time when we were there so no seeds. And it may be useful if we can plant in a colony with a similar climate but doubt if it would be hardy here.’
Thea nodded and started to file through some of the other specimens on the table. It was a feast of new plants she had never laid eyes on before – and knew many would be for Frankie too.
‘I wonder if there are any in this batch that will be the queen’s new thing. She’s still after the protea as far as I know, but we could distract her with something else if it were suitably worthy. I hope she was pleased by the swan milk weed and the double nasturtium I sent her.’
‘I wouldn’t be so hasty,’ said Martha. ‘Your gardener is going all guns blazing for that protea germination and I wouldn’t be surprised if she pulls it off.’
‘Frankie,’ said Thea, giving Martha a stern look. Apparently, time wasn’t softening her views on that kiss.
‘Naturally,’ said Martha dryly. She looked away from the lens to write something in a notebook. ‘When I went out yesterday, she was soaking three of the seeds in blood.’
Thea felt her eyes widen. ‘Human?’
Martha looked up at her, eyebrows raised. ‘Pig, I believe, although I wouldn’t put it past her.’
‘Thank goodness.’ Thea relaxed a little into her chair. ‘She does seem to be trying an awful lot of strange treatments she apparently got out of a book in here.’
‘Well, there’s plenty to go at.’ Martha gestured around her as she returned to peering at the specimen. ‘And if blood is the right mix, then why not.’