Joan, wisely, didn’t comment. Thea hated what she was about to say, but she had to.
‘You know, Joan, if you don’t feel safe in this household – which I would completely understand – you would be free to find other employment. I would hate to see you go but I could get a lady’s maid who was less… desirable to George.’ She winced at the thought of the grumpy older woman she might end up with.
‘Part of me desires to go home,’ said Joan. ‘But I am afraid of what I should find. My brothers protect me but I know that working for the East India Company as an Indian is not pleasant.’
‘Is that what they do?’ asked Thea, wanting to know.
‘My sister looks after my parents,’ said Joan. ‘One brother, Lakshan, went to Bengal to farm Indigo for the,’ she checked herself. ‘For the British.’
Thea heard the inflection. ‘And was he happy about it?’
Joan looked pointedly out of the window. ‘It earns him some money, Your Grace.’
‘I see.’ Thea sat back and scratched her cheek. ‘And what about your other brother?’
‘Ashu stayed in Delhi,’ she said, and then looked back to Thea as if pleading with her not to make her say more.
Thea nodded her understanding. ‘I would pay for you, if you ever wished to return,’ she said.
‘Thank you, Your Grace,’ said Joan. ‘But I am happy here. My country is not what it was.’
‘Money is a terrible thing.’
‘Money is a good thing,’ said Joan. ‘But it depends on the person who has it. With enough money a person can do great evil, or be a great benefactor. You are very generous.’
Thea stared out at the green of Berkshire, rolling past the window. They were cornering around a hawthorn, and she could see the two carriages following them. The carriages holding her children, her mistress and the plethora of staff she employed to keep and entertain them. All because of an accident of birth she had a say in so many others’ lives.
‘Only because I was given the opportunity to be.’ she said.
‘Oh my goodness, it’s so good to be back.’
Thea landed on the gravel driveway from the carriage step and raced to embrace her family. Her father first.
‘Thea,’ he said, and gave her the biggest hug she thought she had ever received. ‘What a treat to have you back at home.’
Home– she thought. It still felt like that, even though she had been away for so many years, and it would come to her eventually – or at least to George. She let her father go with reluctance and moved to her mother.
‘Your Grace,’ said her mother, bobbing a little.
‘Oh, for goodness sake,’ said Thea, and drew her mother into a more awkward hug. They had always disagreed on what was right, and what was proper. Her mother refused to see her point of view, but at least Thea outranked her now and her mother struggled to argue with that.
‘And Ursula.’ Thea bent to give her sister a warm hug. ‘Oh my goodness how happy I am to see you,’ she said into Ursula’s ear.
‘And I you,’ said her sister from her chair. ‘I can’t wait to show you the detailed pressings from the spring flowering alpines and Scip is dying to see you.’ It had been too long since Thea had seen her family’s gardener, and she was dying to see him too. This was a distraction she most definitely needed.
She stood back and waited as Martha greeted the family, and then introduced Crumpacker and reintroduced Mr Fenwick as Annie, Joan, Mrs Phibbs and Mrs Jenkins reacquainted with the Milford staff on the other side of the door. How would Crumpacker respond to her father’s collection, she wondered.
She didn’t have to wait long. They refreshed themselves after the journey and drank a hasty cup of tea before being ushered out into the garden by her father and Ursula. Her mother was horrified at the impropriety of hurrying a duchess and a countess, but Mr Morell had long-since developed a selective deafness to his wife’s social neurosis. Oh, how different the dynamic in a relationship if the balance of power was such, thought Thea. Even with a couple married for convenience, an overbearing wife was easier to ignore than a controlling husband. Still, she was away from George for more than a month before they visited the Knatchbulls, and she would be happy with that.
A familiar calm washed over her as she descended the steps to the terrace and made the journey to the walled garden beyond. The stove range – a long glasshouse leant against the hot wall – stretched from the north to the south wall. She walked with herfather and Ursula, with Martha and Crumpacker chatting along behind and Annie and Mr Fenwick chasing the children around the legume beds.
‘Scip!’ she exclaimed as they entered the stove range. She made it to the gardener in five long strides and was met by his wide smile. Narrowly avoiding embracing him, she reached for him and squeezed his arm briefly. Even she wouldn’t break decorum by hugging the staff.
‘Your Grace,’ he said warmly. ‘I have waited so long for your return.’
‘Not as long as I have,’ she muttered to him, and his smile grew wider.
‘Scip has been propagating for the shrub border,’ said Ursula excitedly. ‘And we have been harvesting samples from outside. In July the west lawn will be full of pyramid orchids since we collected seed and sowed it… when was it, Scip?’ she asked, barely taking a breath.
