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.’
