‘I wonder where she gets that from,’ smiled Martha.
‘At least she’s a better grower than me,’ said Thea. ‘She’s only two and sowed her first sunflower last year. She loved watching it grow.’
‘Thea, you mustn’t feel bad,’ said Martha. ‘You can grow well if you want to and if you have the right resources. You simplydidn’t get the seed and then haven’t had the right conditions or the time or even a skilled gard–’
Thea sat up and cut her off. ‘Oh, my,’ she said.
‘What?’
Thea turned to her. ‘There’s something I need to tell you about my new gardener.’
Chapter 17
February 1765
‘You are certainly ambitious in your conquests,’ said Martha as she looked up from a rank of Lantana seedlings to level a stern stare at Frankie. ‘Confident in your success, I assume?’ Thea poked her from behind, but Frankie was unmoved.
‘Certainly, I am, Your, er, my Lady Foxmore,’ she said, exuding confidence in her delivery aside from her continued inability – or indisposition – to address with the correct title. ‘But I see no reason not to be. My strike rate was pretty high back in London and we’re only fifty miles away.’
‘So I hear,’ said Martha dryly. ‘I wonder if there is anything at all that you wish for in your beds that you cannot have?’ Thea was pleased that Frankie didn’t seem to have caught on to Martha’s half-hearted barbs.
‘There is always more variety,’ said Frankie, missing the title entirely this time. ‘But I am quite satisfied, especially in the hot beds.’ She looked up, directly at Martha. ‘I’ve sorted out a fewindividuals who were struggling to have their needs met and came to me with their specialist requirements. Never had any complaints.’ She pushed past Martha to the firewall and gave her a theatrical wink on her way. Of course she had caught on, thought Thea as she stifled a grin. Martha turned back to her, horrified.
‘You started it,’ muttered Thea as she watched Frankie checking for roots in the base of pots near the firewall. She really had figured out how to use the imperfect space to its best advantage. It looked good in a way that far exceeded what Thea had ever managed to achieve. She couldn’t help feeling self-conscious about the paucity of the established plant collections and how disorganised the space had been when Frankie arrived. There was little to show for her past five years of efforts than a pretty, and pretty standard, garden.
‘She needs to learn some respect,’ whispered Martha.
‘We’re working on it,’ said Thea. ‘But I suspect we will only get so far with her, and she is not the only one.’ She looked at Martha pointedly.
‘I can’t believe you kissed her,’ said Martha.
‘So you keep saying,’ said Thea. ‘And I keep telling you that it was exceedingly unsatisfactory.’
Martha shot her a look. ‘Of course it was.’
Thea shifted closer to her and reached past her to pick a yellowing leaf off a Camellia, bringing her mouth close to Martha’s ear. ‘You have no reason to be jealous, Lady Foxmore. The Duchess of Hartford is singularly in love with you.’ She felt Martha relax against her.
‘I still don’t have to like her,’ said Martha grumpily.
Thea patted her shoulder. ‘Of course you don’t.’
‘All the seeds from Mr Gordon here, Your Grace,’ said Frankie, looking over at them. Thea moved quickly out of Martha’s space as her focus followed Frankie’s direction to the most northerlyraised bed which now looked different. ‘I had Hodges build it up with sand so we can regulate the watering more effectively. And I’ve estimated the likely heat from the firewalls and the remaining risk of frost to determine the plants’ positioning front to back. We’ll space them so there’s a temperature differential.’
‘Excellent,’ said Thea, surprised.
‘Gentian, Iris, Cyclamen, Trilluim, Lupin, DelphiniumandChieranthusin this bed,’ Frankie went on. ‘And I have started a few new trees for the arboretum,’ she stopped and looked at Thea. ‘I meant to ask; do you have an arboretum? I toured the estate almost in its entirety in the first two days, I think, up to the farmland anyway, but I couldn’t see one.’
‘Um, we don’t have one, as yet,’ said Thea, now realising that gave her something else to feel self-conscious about.
‘You should have one,’ said Frankie definitely. ‘Mr Gray is always going on about selling seeds for rich folk’s arboretums so I’m guessing they’re a new thing.’
‘I suppose so,’ said Thea. It had never really occurred to her, but why not grow all your interesting trees together? ‘Where would you propose we–’
‘I have started andrachne, Cornish elm, medlar, olive-leaved phillyrea, sumach, scarlet oak and nettle tree from what I picked up at Mr Gordon’s,’ interrupted Frankie. Martha’s eyes widened. ‘But we will need more, Your Grace.’
‘What would you like?’ asked Thea, beginning to worry she had bitten off more than she could chew.
‘Lilac, tacamahaca, manna ash, I think, more bladder nuts and definitely a tulip tree,’ said Frankie. ‘We should make contact with people with American stock, it’s not hard to find any more but we’d need to be sure we got the best forms. The uprightLiriodendronis the best. I’m sure Mr Gray will have one and he owes me a favour. I hear Telfords in the north has a good range too.’
