4 Butterfly #3
So she went down for dinner in a strangely elated mood, properly attired and on time, as was expected of her, and yet knowing that if she wanted to — if she but had the courage — she could walk away from all this rigid protocol and be free.
As soon as she walked into the drawing room, Charlotte accosted her. “Are you quite well, Mama?”
“Of course, dear. I am perfectly well. Why do you ask?”
“That gown…”
“What is wrong with it?”
“It is the one you wear when Great-aunt Trotter visits. Your plain gown.”
“Well, she hates lace, you know that, dear. Foolish ostentation, she calls it. ‘Mr Trotter always said that too much ornamentation on a woman is an affront to God. One must present oneself in one’s natural form, as He intended.’” Charlotte giggled at the prim tone she affected, and Cora went on, “Dreadful woman! But Mr Trotter was a dean, so I suppose great piety is a necessary part of the position. Still, there are days when I feel like wearing one of my plain gowns even when there is no Great-aunt Trotter to please.”
Charlotte was not appeased but she said no more about it, to Cora’s relief. It was dispiriting to have reached an age when her grown daughters worried about her health. Did they see her as already sliding into old age? How ironic, on a day when she felt more alive than she had ever been before.
To her delight, Cal entered the room soon after and came straight to her side. “Good evening, Mrs Merrington,” he said, sitting beside her on the sofa. “I wanted to thank you for your company today. I’ve rarely enjoyed a day so much.”
“Nor I,” she said with perfect sincerity. “I hope I may be permitted to accompany you on your explorations on another occasion.”
“Whenever you like. I’ll be out there as often as I can, while I’m here.”
The duke came in just then, and scanned the room, his eye lighting on Cal. “There you are, Garford. You have been out looking over the estate, I hear.”
“Parts of it, your grace,” he said, rising gracefully to his feet. “The woods, the lakeside.”
“How much of the woods?”
“As far as the southern perimeter, above the Brin.”
“That is further than Garth has gone in all the time he has been here. Where is the fellow? Ha, there you are. Hear that, Garth? Garford has been right through the woods. And the gardens, Garford?”
Mr Garth went puce with the effort of trying not to respond to this provocation.
“A little,” Cal said.
“And what do you think? What improvements would you suggest?”
“I’m not a landscape gardener, your grace. I don’t know how to design gardens.”
“But you did!” Miss Garth cried, resting one delicate hand on Cal’s arm. “You designed Mama’s flower garden.”
“One border,” Cal said. “Your mama told me what flowers she wanted, I arranged them, that’s all.
Tall ones at the back, short ones at the front, trying not to make the colours clash.
Not difficult. You could easily have done as much, Miss Vi, probably better.
If his grace wants the gardens done properly, he needs a professional, like Repton.
I’m just an under-gardener and woodsman, that’s all. ”
“Which is what I have been telling your grace,” Mr Garth burst out. “Garford is not the man for this job, whereas I—”
“You know nothing,” the duke said sharply, his voice rising in tone. “At least Garford admits his ignorance. Woodsman, you say… what do you think of the Staineybank woods?”
“They’re beautiful,” Cal said at once. “Don’t cut them down.”
Mr Garth made a disgusted sound, but the duke laughed. “Not like Garth did, eh? So what is your advice on the woods, Garford? What should I do with them instead?”
“You could leave them just as they are, to be enjoyed by your family forever, or you could manage them to bring in some profit. Selective felling, coppicing, clearing away some of the undergrowth and fallen trees to encourage the deer, but leaving some for the small creatures to hide under. There’s a natural cycle in a forest that depends on even the smallest creatures like worms and beetles to keep the place clean and growing well, but it does need some tidying up to be useful.
Someone keeps the paths clear, which is good, but there are some overgrown bushes that need attention, and there’s too many fallen branches and debris that need to be cleared away.
If you don’t have a use for it yourself, you could let the local people forage for firewood. ”
“They would strip the place, given half a chance,” Mr Garth growled.
“Not if they were supervised,” Cal said. “Poor folk are heartily grateful for free firing that saves the cost of coal. There’s coppiced wood could be used for the same purpose, if his grace was minded to be generous.”
For a moment the duke frowned, considering this new idea, but it was the duchess who settled it.
“That is a lovely idea,” she said, tucking her slender arm into the duke’s larger one. “If it is of no use to you, why not give it away to those too poor to afford coal?”
“Then we shall do that,” the duke said. “Garford, you can explain it to my bailiff. As for you, Garth, you can leave my house tomorrow. I never want to see you again.”