The carriage rounded the bend by the trees in front of the house, two handsome bays cantering at its head. They slowed to a trot and then to a nodding walk as the carriage drew to halt in front of the house.
The household waited in a semi-circle for the welcome as the footman jumped down and was about to open the door, but before he could it flew open itself, almost catching him in the face. A round and apparently very angry Mrs Jenkins barrelled down the steps.
‘Insufferable, rude man,’ she muttered to herself as she strode, elbows out, to the back of the carriage where she picked up two trunks, one on top of the other, and made for the door. Suddenly remembering herself, she checked to a halt, dropped the trunks on the driveway with a crunch and backed up towards George and Thea. She bobbed a curtsey.
‘Delightful to see you, Your Graces,’ she managed gruffly.
George ignored her entirely; he was only present as it was his duty. But Thea grinned. ‘Good journey, Mrs Jenkins?’ she asked, amused.
Mrs Jenkins lifted an eyebrow at the gentle tease. ‘You have to eat with him, I don’t, thank goodness.’ What did that mean, Thea wondered? She only nodded as Mrs Jenkins headed into the house, past Sanders who was presently trying to lift one of the trunks she had abandoned without ceremony.
Another two forms crunched from the carriage onto the gravel of Hawkdean. ‘Mr Fenwick,’ Thea said. ‘How wonderful to see you. The children will be delighted.’
He bowed. ‘The pleasure is all mine, Your Grace.’ Musket stood on his hind legs to welcome him.
It was then that the other gentleman approached. He was not much taller than Thea, skinny and with a mess of ginger hair. He stood around four paces from George, looking awkwardly at Martha. Musket ceased his welcome of Mr Fenwick and began to bark angrily at the ginger intruder. The gentleman stepped back until Mrs Phibbs gently picked the small but mighty terrier off the drive. Martha stepped forwards.
‘Mr Algernon Crumpacker, Your Graces,’ she said. Mr Algernon Crumpacker dipped his head once, seemingly distracted.
‘A pleasure, Your Grace,’ he said, eyes flicking nervously from the floor to the still rumbling terrier in Mrs Phibbs’ arms.
‘You are welcome I am sure,’ said George flatly.
Crumpacker stared at him and nodded briefly. George returned to the house and Crumpacker looked at Martha.
‘The pleasure is all ours, Mr Crumpacker,’ tried Thea, bobbing generously. ‘I understand you are here to help us with our botany?’
‘As much as is possible,’ he said, not meeting her gaze but instead looking around himself and wrinkling his nose. ‘I do findamateur botanists quite impossible to direct, but I endeavour to make my best effort.’
Thea raised her eyebrow, beginning to understand Mrs Jenkins’ vexation. ‘Indeed, we will do our best to benefit from your superior knowledge,’ she told him, without breaking a smile.
He looked up at the house but still addressed her. ‘I hope you will not be offended, Your Grace, if I am perhaps not so effusive as I am certain many of your other guests perform to be?’ It wasn’t a statement, it was a question, and Thea wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.
‘Well, I–’ she began. He cut her off.
‘It is only that I am rarely impressed by any collections outside the tropics, Your Grace. I do not mean it as a slight; it is simply that people cannot grow plants as well as nature. That is a fact, and it is disingenuous to imply otherwise.’
‘Oh,’ she said, feeling a little deflated. She had hoped, at least for some encouragement from a garden advisor, if she had to have one at all.
‘I think it is important that I am absolutely clear.’ He addressed her but kept his gaze on a point high up on the house, his hands behind his back. ‘I do not believe that this is because you are a female, but because you are a human.’
‘I see,’ said Thea, not understanding yet whether she was reassured or offended. Before she could decide, Crumpacker went on.
‘Lady Foxmore educated me very early on in our acquaintance that the female mind is quite as good as, if not better than, that of the male and that her courage often surpasses his. I am ashamed to say I was ignorant of the fact before that point.’
Thea’s eyes widened. ‘I can imagine Lady Foxmore educating you in that. And of course, she is quite correct.’ She shot a look at Mrs Phibbs who only raised an understanding eyebrow. Howcould he be so liberal and yet so objectionable at the same time? She hoped he didn’t say the same to George or she would have to find a new botanist.
He nodded again. ‘Indeed, she is. I will see my room now,’ he said. And without another word disappeared into the house.
‘Well,’ said Thea, unsure of how to react to Mr Crumpacker.
‘He takes a little time to settle in but–’ said Martha but was cut off by Mr Fenwick.
‘I’ll go and see,’ he said, winking at them both. He followed Mr Fletcher into the house.
‘He’s a little different,’ said Martha. ‘Better with plants than people.’
‘I understand that,’ said Thea. ‘How long before he’s in the garden do you think?’
