Chapter 24 #2
‘I must also thank you, dear friends,’ said Knatchbull, enjoying the sound of his own voice, ‘for allowing my wife and I into your folds and welcoming us so generously.’ Thea’s eyes flicked around the table.
‘But mostly,’ he said, grinning. ‘I should thank the enslaved blacks everywhere in the empire for being quite literally revolting and providing a buoyant and ever-growing market for the chains, shackles, collars and masks on which I have built the fortune necessary to make all of this possible.’ His prolonged and barking laugh was aimed all around the table, sending spittle along with it.
Thea was thankful they had not yet started eating as the wave of nausea his words conjured was particularly violent.
She looked up to find George glaring at her, and Martha eyeing her warily.
‘It is also the most happy coincidence,’ said Neville, showing no signs of stopping.
‘That on the occasion of your generous visit to enjoy our modest shoot, I was able, earlier today, to show the gentlemen the most anticipated success of my career in cultivation thus far.’ Thea’s heart stuttered. Surely not?
‘The successful propagation of the seeds of the king protea!’ Neville held his hands aloft as Thea held her breath.
If he had, indeed done it, then he had beaten her.
So far none of Frankie’s strange treatments had come to anything, so this wasn’t something he had learned through his spying.
She stared at Neville, but he didn’t look at her, not even valuing her contributions enough to think she was worth his gloating.
‘I hope to please Her Majesty with them just as soon as they are grown to an acceptable maturity,’ he went on, as Thea heard her heartbeat in her ears.
‘And I am beyond grateful that Lady Foxmore has generously provided me with more specimens from her travels that I know she is confident I can coax to life in the verdant womb of the Upper Plumbthorne estate.’
God, did this man never shut up, Thea wondered.
‘Excellent work, Knatchbull,’ said Harriet, after glancing at Thea. ‘We are all indebted to you for your hospitality.’ Her eyes flicked to where the servants waited to bring out the food.
‘You are most terribly welcome, Mrs Henry,’ he said with a weasley smile. ‘Let us eat.’ He motioned for the food to be brought, and the serving began.
Harriet’s eyes flicked to Thea, who thanked her silently. Harriet knew how difficult she must have found the self-congratulatory diatribe.
‘Lady Foxmore,’ said Helena from across the table. ‘I understand from my brother that you have spent some time at Hawkdean House this spring?’
‘Indeed,’ said Martha, swallowing before she spoke. ‘The duke has been so kind as to accommodate myself and Mr Crumpacker. We have a great deal of samples to classify from our last voyage.’
‘Ho,’ said Knatchbull, his eyes sparkling.
‘You must stay here in the future, Lady Foxmore. The duke’s glass range is something although I flatter myself that I would have a greater range of environments which would allow your acquisitions to thrive.
’ Thea watched George glower at him, but he wasn’t wrong, she considered.
With a start she wondered if she was holding Martha back by keeping her at Hawkdean.
Between that, the awkward science demonstration and Knatchbull’s diatribe, she was starting to feel a little unwell.
‘You are most kind, Mr Knatchbull,’ was all that Martha said.
‘And I am sure that Mrs Knatchbull can provide any service and entertainment that you have received at Hawkdean,’ went on Knatchbull, terribly rudely, Thea thought.
Martha only inclined her head gracefully, tactfully remaining quiet, but Thea saw Harriet’s eyes quickly flick to hers.
At least the mischievous smile she flashed made Thea smile a little.
‘Speaking of the acquisitions,’ Harriet said loudly. ‘I wonder if we might prevail upon Lady Foxmore and Mr Crumpacker to offer us some stories of their adventures?’ Harriet’s eyes flicked to Thea again.
‘Of course,’ said Knatchbull, raising his glass in Martha’s direction.
‘What better way to continue our meal than to hear about the savage provenance of these specimens which are returned to us to cultivate in civilisation. What shall we hear about, Lady Foxmore?’ Thea was relieved.
At least she would get to hear more from Martha, and while she was talking, Knatchbull wasn’t.
‘What do you think, Mr Crumpacker?’ asked Martha, smoothly engaging the conversation. ‘Which is the story most appropriate to our company, I wonder? The colours of India?’
‘The tiger,’ said Crumpacker, without thinking. He didn’t look any more comfortable in this company than Thea felt and had retreated into himself a little as Mr Fenwick wasn’t here.
‘Ah,’ said Martha, and her eyes widened a little.
Thea saw the twitch in her cheek as the table watched.
She hadn’t heard a story about a tiger and looked at Martha expectantly.
Martha took a little beef from the plate she was offered and looked to Crumpacker.
‘Do you not think maybe the landslip would be more appropriate?’
Crumpacker shook his head. ‘The tiger story is far more diverting for a dinner party.’
‘Goodness, yes, I want to hear about the tiger,’ said Cecily, eyes wide. ‘How big was it?’
Martha pursed her lips and raised her brows, evidently wondering where to start. ‘I suppose you might say moderately big…’
‘Extremely big,’ said Crumpacker. ‘Around three and a half tall at its shoulders and eleven feet long, give or take. This one was on the island of Sumatra which is in the Indian Ocean.’ Thea had the awkward notion that Martha was trying to hold something back.
‘How far away is that?’ asked Cecily, who had stopped eating through all the excitement.
‘Almost a year’s sailing,’ said Martha. ‘Via the Cape of Good Hope and India.’
‘During which Lady Foxmore was attacked,’ said Crumpacker. All eyes turned to Martha, who Thea could see was trying to remain serene.
‘Oh, that is very much overstating it,’ she said, and Thea paused, laying her fork on her plate. How had Martha not told her about being attacked?
‘It is not,’ said Crumpacker.
‘Lady Foxmore, you were attacked by a tiger?’ asked Cecily with wide eyes. Thea looked at Martha with wide eyes too, who hesitated and looked back warily, but it was Crumpacker who spoke.
‘By a disgraceful gentleman by the name of Richard Lynch.’
Martha swallowed and looked away. Thea knew her eyes challenged why this was the first time she was hearing about Martha being attacked. She knew she had been shot accidentally, but this was new information.
‘I am sure the table doesn’t need all the details,’ said Martha quickly.
Crumpacker nodded and returned to his prawns.
‘Anyway,’ said Martha, looking relieved that his interjections had ceased for now.
‘We climbed for a few days into the island and found a great many plants, loading them onto oxen for the locals to take back to the town where they would be waiting when we returned.’ She was getting into her stride, and the table was rapt.
‘One night, we heard Lynch – who I will concede was not the nicest of men,’ she eyed Crumpacker carefully, ‘leave the camp, and thought he might have gone to look for the tigers.’
‘Why would he do that?’ asked Harriet. ‘Surely it’s dangerous by himself?’
‘Well–’ Martha started.
‘To kill them,’ said Crumpacker. ‘They were sacred animals to the islanders and so Lady Foxmore and I vowed to protect them, but he wanted one to bring home, so he went by himself.’
‘Well, yes,’ said Martha, stalling a little. ‘So, in respect to the islanders we went after him and stopped him and that was the end to that, really.’ She picked up her cutlery and made to begin eating again, but Crumpacker let out a snort.
‘By killing him.’
The clattering of cutlery ceased immediately. Even the staff looked to Martha who had paused with a morsel of curried beef halfway from her plate. She tried a small laugh to lighten the mood, and Thea saw her struggling with how to counter Crumpacker’s clumsy storytelling. ‘Not on purpose.’
‘It was on purpose,’ said Crumpacker directly. ‘I had to kill him, otherwise he would have killed Lady Foxmore. And he almost did.’ Thea was only aware of the silence and Martha’s awkward glances between her and Crumpacker.
‘Well, we don’t know that,’ Martha started, but Crumpacker looked away from Martha and to the middle of the table.
‘Lady Foxmore had bravely placed herself between Lynch and the tiger. It had two cubs, and she had agreed with the islanders that we would not take one and she was faithful to that. I am in no doubt that he would have shot her to get to them as he said it in no uncertain terms and he had a musket pointed directly at her.’
Thea’s heart raced. She thought she and Martha shared everything, but here was information she had withheld. Dramatic information. Her stomach dropped further than it had through the conversations with George or the humiliation of the science demonstration.
Martha looked resigned now, and Thea heard herself ask quietly, ‘What happened then?’ She directed it at Martha, but Martha hesitated. It was Crumpacker who spoke.
‘Thankfully, I shot him first. He fired but his aim was off on account of him being hit a fraction of a second earlier. He hit Lady Foxmore beneath the glenohumeral joint of the shoulder. A little further to the right and she would have been dead.’ The table stared at him in silence, but he was apparently unaware.
‘As it was, she regained consciousness a few days after we returned to the town.’ He sliced off another piece of prawn and popped it delicately into his mouth.