‘Indeed, my new estate,’ said Knatchbull, with hardly a wince and a determination to dominate the conversation. ‘At our last meeting I did suggest to the King that he could plan to visit Upper Plumbthorne within the year. The modifications are almost complete, including the Royal Suite at his most valued encouragement.’
Excellent riposte, thought Thea. The king and queen had yet to indicate a desire to visit George and Thea’s estate at Hawkdean. She glanced at George and saw his jaw tighten, but he only nodded. That was interesting, she thought. He was rarely reticent to offend people, especially those he didn’t like.
The conversation moved on, and Thea set her face in an interested half-smile as the two men sparred around the debates of the day. Neville Knatchbull had bought swathes of land with money made from his marriage and his undesirable business. Now he simpered without shame to the right people and applied his liberal wealth wherever he thought it would be to his advantage. His new venture into growing new plants from the colonies was a shrewd move, bringing him greater connections in ships and plantations, but more importantly providing intellectual talking points with the nobility. After four years of growing, he now lorded over a thriving ornamental garden which put Thea’s struggling one to shame. Worse, he somehow seemed to have access to all of the new plants that Thea did not. If he wasn’t such a highly objectionable man who had earned a fortune through such highly objectionable means and who so consistently devalued the opinions of women, they could have had a productive relationship.
George seemed hopeful to change the subject from Knatchbull’s impending royal visit. ‘I hope you achieved what you wished out of today, Doctors?’ he nodded to Herbert and Speckle. Thea knew he was asking why they were there. DoctorSpeckle deferred to Herbert, but the older doctor’s dour face hardly registered interest.
‘Most appreciative of Mr Knatchbull’s invite,’ was all he managed with a disinterested drawl. Thea could see why Harriet didn’t value him as a doctor, if his bedside manner was as poor as his conversation.
Doctor Speckle looked intently between George and Doctor Herbert, wondering if he should contribute. Herbert inclined his gaunt head ever so slightly, apparently granting permission.
‘Mr Knatchbull was kind enough to introduce us to Their Majesties,’ he said, in a voice softer than Thea had imagined. ‘The queen is quite the budding botanist and I – I mean Doctor Herbert–’ he quickly corrected himself ‘–has a small experimental plot in the city.’ Thea’s ears pricked up.
‘I see,’ said George flatly. ‘And you will be giving Her Majesty lessons?’
Doctor Speckle smiled at the jibe. ‘Naturally not, Your Grace.’ There was no edge to his manner, Thea noticed. ‘She has a number of growing goals of her own and a few heads are often better than one.’
‘I see,’ said George again, and his eyes flicked to Herbert, whose sour face still betrayed nothing, and then to Knatchbull. Thea knew this would unsettle George. Another link between Knatchbull and the Royals, a further distancing for him.
‘We are most desirous to make a success of the endeavour,’ said Knatchbull, ‘and I believe that between us, we might have the answer.’
That meant that he thought that Doctor Speckle had the answer, thought Thea. If Knatchbull thought he had the answer himself, he would not share the glory, and Thea suspected Doctor Herbert was the same. But what was the question? She was desperate to ask but knew she couldn’t.
‘If cultivation is the object, then you can do no better than the counsel of Her Grace, the Duchess of Hartford,’ Monty Fairclough said, almost making Thea jump with alarm – he was so unassuming that she had almost forgotten that he was there. ‘She is making quite the impression on the grounds of the Hartford Estate and has glasshouses bigger even than yours, Herbert. The garden is bursting with colour.’ He smiled warmly at Thea, who inclined her head in thanks. She agreed the garden looked good, daylilies, heliotropes and cone flowers were easy to grow, it was the botanical curiosities that evaded her with her sub-standard growing environments.
‘You are too kind, Mister Fairclough,’ she said politely, still hoping she wouldn’t be recognised by Doctor Speckle.
At a lack of any further response, he looked around the men and went on. ‘I am sure we might all benefit from a sharing of information on the topic?’
Thea awaited being put in her place, almost wishing he hadn’t said anything.
‘That’s right,’ oozed Knatchbull, turning on his most charming smile. It was the one with teeth that made her sphincters close up. ‘Her Grace dabbles with growing most extraordinarily. It is a wonderful hobby for a lady and one I know His Grace is most generous to support.’
Thea applied her most polite and deferent smile. ‘Indeed, it is,’ she noted, ensuring to sound gracious while she considered what noises Knatchbull might make if she pulled out his nose hairs one by one. ‘I find it quite diverting and His Grace is very supportive.’
‘I remember Her Grace had quite the collection of sneezewort when Mrs Knatchbull and I visited in July,’ he leered on. ‘Personally, I tired of them after seeing so many in the Vauxhall Gardens, but it is so wise for a lady to keep her endeavours manageable. It is an object Her Grace excels in.’
‘You are too kind, Mr Knatchbull,’ she said, as she imagined pulling those bristly hairs even more slowly. It would be a pathetic squeaky noise he would make, she thought. A bit like a ferret caught by a fox.
The pleasing thought was interrupted by Doctor Herbert’s dour gaze. It was intense like a hawk, and travelled from her face, down her body, back up again and then switched directly to George. ‘If you have a glasshouse, Your Grace, I wonder if you benefited from the recent landing of theOverture?’ he asked, referring to a ship that Thea knew had come in last week. ‘I am sure many of the specimens would be of interest.’
George looked bored, but to his credit looked to Thea.
‘No,’ she said, her heart sinking further. ‘I had hoped for a selection from South America, but we were not in time.’ The Overture had returned from one of the most extensive trips of the past five years and she had desperately wanted seeds from the landing. She had even wondered if Martha had docked with it somewhere in the world and would have sent her a packet on board. But George had been too busy to attend, and no package had arrived. She was no longer surprised, just desperately disappointed.
‘Shame,’ said Herbert, flicking his eyes to her and then immediately back to George. ‘I may have some surplus stock, Your Grace,’ he said, his tone flat. ‘I will reach you through Mr Knatchbull.’ George nodded his acknowledgement and, just like that, Thea was dismissed once again. She knew there would be no seeds as George wouldn’t bother to respond.
‘You are experimenting with physic plants in your garden, Doctor?’ asked Monty politely, addressing Herbert.
Herbert agreed with a raise of his chin. ‘Speckle can’t seem to stop himself. Taking all my gardeners’ time with his fancy ideas.’
‘Milkweed and eringio root show promising medicinal properties,’ said Speckle. He was a tall man and well built, butwith a soft blonde wig and kind eyes, Thea now realised. ‘I would be interested to know if Her Grace has had any success with either?’
Thea started, unused to her council being sought. She offered him a smile of acknowledgement.
‘I find leaving milkweed to seed itself works best,’ she said. ‘The seeds expel and require minimum disturbance. Trying too hard seems to be a recipe for failure.’ That was one thing, at least, that had gone right in the garden. More through the apathy of Elton, her lacklustre gardener, than anything, but she omitted that fact.
Speckle nodded, listening intently, his eyes shining with that excitement inquisitive people get when they find a like mind, and it drew the curiosity out of her in response, almost uncontrollably.
