“I know you people often look at marriage like a business contract, but the human capacity to love is pretty incredible,” Reese said, thinking of her maternal grandparents. “My grandmother told me once that when her first child was born she thought she could never love anyone so much. She worried when she was pregnant with her next child, my uncle, that she wouldn’t have enough love for both of the children.”
“And?” Ellen asked when Reese stopped talking.
“She found that she hadmorelove, not less. She said her capacity to love grew. When she died not long after the birth of my mother, my grandfather remembered that. He married again, and he adored his second wife. He didn’t marry her just to provide a mother for his children.”
Ellen leaned back in her seat with a smile. “So, you do believe in love matches.”
“I think that marriage, even a good marriage, is hard work for both partners,” Reese said, thinking of Kaitlyn’s parents. “It’s much easier to work hard to make it succeed if you care about each other. I don’t believe that marriage should be a business transaction, and I don’t believe in marriages of convenience.”
“I like you, Clarisse Hamilton,” Ellen said. “Grandmama says I read too many of Jane Austen’s books, and that it is unbecoming a lady of quality to worry about love matches. But I want someone who looks at me the way I remember Gareth looking at Cecily, as though the sun rose and set with her.”
“It says a lot about your brother that he had the capacity to love,” Reese said. “I’m not sure that young men of means are taught to care much beyond their own pleasures. He must have a lot of good qualities.”
Ellen sat quietly for a few seconds before she finally spoke. “He had many good qualities, but he lost his way when Cecily died. I believe he is finding himself again, finding his purpose in living. I truly believe a good woman will bring him back fully to the man I remember as a little girl.”
The carriage came to a stop, and the conversation ended. The footman opened the door for them and helped them down. Servants scurried over to collect the luggage.
“You must be fagged after such a long day,” Ellen slid her arm through Reese’s. “Do you prefer to go to your room and rest before dinner, or would you like to stroll the shrubs first?”
“If you mean stroll your gardens,” Reese said, “then yes.”
“Wonderful. The servants will have time to unpack and prepare your room for you. I am most anxious that you are comfortable here. I hope to convince you to stay beyond a few days. After tea, I will show you the house.”
“Let’s go.” Reese let herself be guided to the gated garden that rested on the first tier beyond the main house. It had pathways between the geometric and symmetrical planting beds, all surrounded by low hedges.
Ellen seemed to know quite a lot about the plants and mentioned flowers that looked familiar to Reese, but she didn’t recognize the names her ladyship called them. An elderly man entered the garden through an arch, and she waved him over.
“Miss Clarisse, this is Biggs, our head gardener,” she said when he reached them.
“Nice to meet you.” Reese almost curtsied but caught herself.
“Her ladyship has a fine eye for colors,” he said, his hat in his hands. “During the winter, she spends hours poring over the Thorburn & Sons catalogue to order for the next year. You can see for yourself the results of her efforts.” The old man’s chest swelled with pride.
“It is quite a gift to be able to do that.” Reese glanced back at the house and the windows on the third floor. “I can’t wait to see what this garden looks like from above.”
“I’ll let you get on with your work, Biggs,” Ellen said. “I hope Miss Clarisse will be with us for a week or two, so we will have a chance to give her a grand tour of the garden.”
He bowed, first to Ellen and then to Reese, before putting on his hat and leaving.
“Has he been here long?” Reese asked.
“Since my brother married. Biggs’s father was the head gardener for my grandfather.” Ellen led her up the stairs toward the house again. “He is one of many servants who have been in the service of my family for generations. My father said Biggs started as a simple lad working in the gardens. He showed great promise, so Old Biggs took him on as an apprentice. This time of year, we have an army of gardeners.”
Ellen continued to chatter about different types of flowers as they walked, noting which needed shade and which had to have full sun to thrive. Reese paid particular attention to the color combinations. She was no artist, but if the mixtures of hues and textures were Ellen’s idea, she was gifted. If she were to come back with them, she could go to school as a landscape architect.
Reese wondered if Kellworth still existed in her time. It would be heartbreaking for Ellen, who loved the place so much, to live to see it in ruins. How much longer would this extravagant lifestyle continue? Reese had read somewhere that the events happening around the turn of the twentieth century had contributed to the breakup of many old estates. Industrialization meant jobs in cities that drew servants from the country. What would happen in a few years when the owners of Kellworth couldn’t get an army of gardeners to work for them?
A shiver went down Reese’s spine. Ellen could still be alive in fifty years. Would she be like the Dowager Countess of Grantham ofDownton Abbey, watching the world she knew disappear? In a few weeks, Reese would return to her own time. She intended to research what happened to the family.
“It has cooled down, so tea will be in the sunroom,” Ellen said. A servant opened a door to a glass-enclosed room on the edge of the house. A small circular table sat in the middle of the room, surrounded by delicate-looking plants in pots. It had a sweet fragrance that Reese associated with florist shops.
For the first time that day, she had an appetite and happily took a seat. She scanned the table, glad to see that it wasn’t only sweets. It also included cucumber sandwiches, several different kinds of thinly-sliced meat, cheeses, and even pickles. A three-tiered Lazy Susan held scones, fruit tarts, and some kind of cake.
“We won’t be eating again tonight, will we?” Reese reached for a cucumber sandwich.
“No, so feel free to eat your fill now. However, when my brother is in residence, we eat much later.” Ellen lifted the teapot and poured hot water into Reese’s cup. “Gareth does not like country hours and does not normally dine before nine. I prefer to rise early, especially on warm summer days, to work in the garden. He does not mind that I eat little and retire after dinner. I do stay up when he is having important guests, of course.”
“Do you usually eat alone?” Reese asked.
