Chapter 36
Thud.
‘Her Grace, The Duchess of Hartford and Martha Smilgrove, Countess of Foxmore,’ announced the master of ceremonies.
Thea nodded to him as they passed into the great hall of St James’s Palace and descended the steps to the floor.
If possible, it was done up more than usual for the queen’s birthday.
There were swags of gold and velvet on the walls, a lavish array of candles illuminating the space, plentiful drinks on offer and hundreds of people milling around in an excited buzz.
The royal thrones and canopy had been trimmed in foliage and exuberant floral displays littered the room.
Thea checked each one, thankful to find no Proteas.
She would have heard, she was sure, but her nerves made her doubt.
‘Don’t look now, at least we’ll get it over with,’ said Martha through a perfectly poised smile as they approached the foot of the steps.
Thea looked up. ‘Mr Knatchbull,’ she said, trying to sound pleased. Then she caught herself. ‘Or, of course, I should say, Sir Neville.’ She tried to sound as respectful as possible.
‘Indeed,’ said Neville. ‘What I have done to deserve such an honourable title I shall never know.’ But he puffed himself up like a randy pigeon in that way Thea had noted men did, when they were disproportionately proud of themselves.
‘And neither shall we,’ said Martha, but with a smile and an affable manner that meant he would struggle to be formally offended. Thea bit back a guffaw and saw Cecily, standing quietly next to her husband, do the same.
Before she could greet Cecily formally, Knatchbull went on.
‘I hope that the king and queen will be quite delighted with the gift I have brought for them today. And you,’ he paused to waggle a finger in the direction of Thea, a gesture which she found she particularly disliked, ‘May well be a little green with envy, don’t you think so Lady Knatchbull?
’ He tugged on Cecily’s arm that was clamped in his.
Cecily smiled dutifully. ‘I do believe you may be diverted, Your Grace.’
Thea ignored the sinking feeling that had come with Neville’s words whilst she greeted Cecily. ‘How wonderful to see you,’ she said. ‘How are you?’
‘Exceptionally well,’ said Cecily, and now Thea looked at her she looked more relaxed than she had seen in a while. Then she turned to her husband. ‘Would you like to tell them, or shall I, Sir Neville?’
Thea schooled her expression at the address and Neville ruffled his feathers again. Quite literally, as Thea now noticed that his turquoise and sequined court suit was also trimmed with feathers from some poor tropical bird that was no more. Whatever it was, it had been yellow.
‘Why don’t I allow you to, this time my love?’ he crooned, and Thea felt Martha’s foot on hers, sharing the embarrassment at his insincerity.
Cecily only went on in the stoic way Thea had come to expect from her.
‘We are with child,’ said Cecily. ‘A small Knatchbull will be joining us in the summer.’
Thea felt Martha jolt a little beside her and took a second to recover her politeness.
‘Goodness, how wonderful,’ said Martha before Thea managed it.
‘Absolutely,’ said Thea, painting on a smile. Had it happened with Neville, or had poor Cecily been farmed out to another family member to ensure succession? Or at least the impression of it. ‘That is wonderful news, congratulations to you both.’
‘You should tell everyone,’ said Martha, stepping forward and motioning for Neville to follow her. ‘Let us see who is already arrived.’ Thea understood her meaning and took Cecily’s arm to follow them. She leaned into Cecily’s ear.
‘Are you alright?’ she asked. ‘I have some very effective members of my household who could deal with the problem if not.’
Cecily chuckled. ‘I am fine,’ she murmured. ‘It’s the gardener’s.’ The mischievous smile she shot Thea reassured that she was delighted about it.
‘I see,’ said Thea, biting back a smile.
‘Neville has plants for the queen,’ whispered Cecily as they walked, ‘I think he might…’ but she was cut off by the appearance of Helena and Leopold Mortimer.
Neville fawned over them, having apparently identified a new route to social progression now George was no longer an option.
Presumably he would seek a peerage next, she mused.
Martha had inserted herself into the discussion and so Thea and Cecily engaged Helena.
They had seen one another irregularly since the funeral.
Thea’s period of mourning had allowed her to avoid most social events for the past four months, but now she would need to begin to attend once more, albeit on her own terms. But the question of plants and Neville’s gift for the queen pricked at her, and she began to get nervous.
‘How are you?’ she heard Cecily asking Helena. ‘You have been through almost as great a mourning as the duchess, I should imagine,’ Cecily placed her hand on Helena’s arm. ‘So difficult to lose a brother so young.’
Helena’s haughty demeanour flickered only slightly.
‘The family miss George, of course,’ she said, eyes moving lazily from Thea to Cecily and back.
‘But I would assume that the gentlemen feel his loss more keenly than you do, perhaps, Your Grace?’ Her eyes settled on Thea at the last words and Thea’s heart stuttered a little.
Helena must have seen it as she went on.
‘I do not mean that in unkind terms. Before the dinner at Hawkdean I do not think my family had understood George’s – progression.
It is difficult for that to be your life. ’ Thea saw that she meant it kindly.
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘The past months have not been easy.’ She left it open, just in case. Helena nodded.
‘My mother has not a good word to say about how he turned out and every good thing about you and the children, Your Grace. She would like to see them sometimes,’ she paused. ‘As would I, if possible?’
Thea relaxed, understanding that Helena’s words were genuine. ‘Of course,’ she said, giving Helena a genuine smile. ‘We would be delighted, of course. We are in London for another month so we must arrange a call.’
‘We must,’ agreed Helena, before the bell rang to announce the king and queen.
After much pomp and pageantry involved in the king and queen actually getting to their thrones and sitting down, the entertainment was announced.
The crowd parted and she found herself with an excellent view of the long carpet leading up to the throne.
A movement at the foot of the hall suggested that equipment was being delivered, and Royal aides pushed a wheeled table, or maybe a trolley, down the centre of the room so that it was in full view of the monarch and his wife.
During its progression Thea scanned the room.
No Doctors Herbert or Speckle – professional people were rarely permitted at royal birthdays, exclusive as they were.
Neither did her family bother to attend.
She did see Emma Fairclough and Monty, standing with Winnie Hatchett, Catherine, Alice and – goodness me, it was, she realised – Harriet.
Harriet caught her eye and beamed. Her family was not generally high enough to attend court, and so someone must have invited her.
Thea asked across the distance with a questioning quirk of her eyebrows.
Harriet answered with a flick of her own, and a head tilt towards Emma.
Thea’s eyes widened and Harriet did a little happy dance that made Thea chuckle.
Their distant communication was halted by the progress of the wheeled table that trundled its cloth-covered bulk between them. To her first delight, and then horror, Thea noticed that the person following it was Doctor Travers.
There was an air of confidence about him as he bowed to the king and the queen.
‘Your Majesties,’ he said with deference. ‘My Lords, Ladies and gentlemen,’ he boomed to the room overall. ‘My intent tonight is to shock and delight you with the power of science.’
Thea’s eyes travelled to the ladies at the opposite of the circle, where Emma Fairclough looked sceptical, but Harriet was elbowing her in the ribs. Thea felt a grin spread over her own face.
‘I mean that quite literally,’ said Doctor Travers, striding around the circle in which he performed, the audience closing in a little.
Then he placed five stools in a curved line next to his table.
‘I will need some volunteers.’ He moved to the front of the room and bowed deeply again to the queen.
‘I hoped that you might grace me with your participation, Your Majesty.’
‘I would be delighted,’ said the queen, even blushing a little, Thea thought. She took Doctor Travers’ hand and allowed herself to be guided to the first stool.
‘If you would be so kind, Your Majesty,’ said Doctor Travers as he helped the queen to stand on the first stool. ‘Who next?’ he asked, looking around the room.
Emma Fairclough made a sort of muffled noise and shifted forwards.
‘Excellent,’ he said, ‘Mrs Fairclough, I am delighted.’ Emma looked horrified and stared back at Harriet who was barely controlling her laughter. Thea realised that she must have pushed her.
‘And Mrs Henry,’ said Doctor Travers, ‘what delightful volunteers.’ Harriet’s face dropped and Thea struggled to keep in her own laughter. Before long Emma and Harriet were on the second and third stools and had been joined by two ladies Thea didn’t recognise on the fourth and fifth.
‘May I ask you to join hands, ladies,’ said Doctor Travers.
They did. And then, with a flourish, he removed the cloth from his table.
Thea smiled. She hadn’t seen this experiment before but now she knew what was about to happen.
The electrical generating machine on the table was a rudimentary one, but still serviceable she could see.