Martha let them in through the side door and led Thea through the great hall, across the staircase hall and into the parlour. She had never been one for home decoration and the interior was dated, but now much of her furniture was covered up with great throws and the light was blocked with nets to keep the paintings from fading.
Martha closed the door of the parlour and Thea sat heavily on a chair in the cozy room looking out over the garden.
‘This isn’t a home for you, anymore,’ said Thea, feeling sad for Martha. She had never really thought of the reality of Martha spending time at Denbury when she was away from Hawkdean. In her head, it was like the vibrant Denbury of their past life together before her marriage, but Martha’s travel time necessitated that it was no longer the same.
‘I keep some rooms free and done up,’ said Martha, looking out of the window and not seeming down on the situation at all. ‘I have never needed the whole house, and it helps not to have to keep it all lit, warmed and dusted.’
‘Helps the finances too?’ asked Thea.
‘Definitely that,’ said Martha. ‘It is more of a struggle without the shares of course, but we will build another way.’ Before Martha left, they had discussed at length the fact that Martha’s estate was supported by shares in slave ships. And she had sold the shares after they had learned more about the horrors of the trade.
‘Do you regret selling them?’ Thea asked.
Martha turned and looked at her fiercely. ‘Absolutely not. You were so very right. Having been around the world and seeing how the British treat indigenous people, I would have sold the shares anyway. I want no part in that business.’
Thea nodded, reassured. ‘Do you think Denbury will survive without the income?’
Martha shrugged. ‘We are surviving on the estate income for now, but with a skeleton staff. I have just taken on a new agent for the estate who I have tasked with improving the agricultural income. I may have to choose at some point whether to sell, or alternatively to sell a couple of the remaining properties in Foxmore Square, but not yet. I will not be destitute, Thea, please do not concern yourself with that. In any case I should probably spend most time in London if I were not with you at Hawkdean. George will send me away at some point and there is little to do here by oneself.’
Thea joined her at the window. ‘You have given up so much for me, and still, I cannot give you anything.’
Martha took her hand and turned towards her. ‘You give me everything that it is possible to give, and you have given up so much for others. What more could I ask?’
Thea remained looking into the garden and ignored the question. That was beside the point. ‘I’m sorry you have to be my mistress,’ she said quietly. ‘I know you didn’t want that and it’s hard, being between households. Being here really brings that into focus, doesn’t it?’
Martha slid her hand soothingly around Thea’s waist. ‘If you remember, it is what we agreed on. I thought I couldn’t do it, but the idea of not having you at all was worse than having only a part of you. We always said we were strong enough for this and I know that we are.’
‘But the reality is stark, isn’t it?’ asked Thea, turning into her. ‘More than I thought. And I cannot see an end to it. How can this be our life?’
Martha nodded out into the garden where Crumpacker now held out a cornflower to Mr Fenwick. The tutor took it andinspected its intricacies, before gazing at Crumpacker with an intensity that Thea recognised all too well.
‘Society has its challenges for us all,’ said Martha soothingly. ‘On whatever measure of its scale we inhabit. Those two would literally be strung up if anyone found out. But we can keep them safe, and you and I are together now. I honestly think I can cope with the rest.’
Thea pulled her back into the room, away from the window and encircled Martha’s waist with her arms.
‘We have one another, and that’s what matters.’
‘Yes,’ said Martha, her eyes dark. She bent down to claim Thea’s lips. Thea leaned into it, hungry for her. These clandestine moments together were all that they had. Martha pulled her in, cupping her cheek with one hand, clearly feeling bolder in her own home. The kiss deepened, but she pulled away and rested her forehead on Martha’s.
‘We better stop, before we get carried away,’ she said sadly.
‘Just hold me,’ said Martha. And so she did. They managed a few blissful minutes before they heard a commotion in the corridor.
‘Aunty Martha, can we go on the boat?’ came the excited shout from Edward.
‘Don’t tell me you didn’t tear up,’ smiled Thea as they followed the children and Annie out on to the lawn. That was one interruption that she hadn’t minded.
‘I had something in my eye,’ said Martha drily.
‘It only took you four months,’ said Thea. ‘That’s pretty good, although I know you’ve been trying hard.’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Martha, eyeing her sideways.
‘I mean, I’ve seen you telling Samantha tales of the monkeys you saw in the jungle, making wooden swords for Abigail and all the weird toys you’ve had sent from your travelling contacts like that rain stick for Edward.’ She checked around them to ensure nobody was watching and poked Martha in the ribs playfully. ‘Never mind the title Countess of Foxmore – you’ve been coveting Aunty Martha since you met them.’
She saw a little smile tug at Martha’s lips. ‘Maybe.’
‘Come on Aunty Martha,’ shouted Samantha from by the side of the boat which bobbed in the canal. Thea watched as Martha’s smile grew. Then Abigail, apparently fed up with waiting, wriggled free of Annie’s grasp and launched herself headfirst into the boat, her little legs flailing upwards. Annie started towards her, but Martha was quicker.
