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She sat on the bed and regarded them very gravely.
‘We are going to be so good that nobody has any reason to be angry with any of us, or think we are planning something they wouldn’t like. Agreed?’
They all nodded.
‘We will look after each other, and one day quite soon we will be able to go home. Either we will find a way out ourselves, or someone will come and help us.’ It was a wild thing to say. She had no idea where they were, or how anyone would find them here, if anybody were even looking. Rand could have told Monk anything. He knew she cared about the children. He might have been told she was nursing them, so would relax in the assumption that she would simply return home when they were well.
Fear took hold of her for a moment and overwhelmed her. This was not good enough. She could feel the pressure of Maggie’s fingers still tight on hers. Maggie would know she was afraid.
‘Right!’ she said briskly. ‘To begin. Are you hungry?’
‘Yeah,’ they all said in unison.
‘Good. Then I will go and see what I can find in the kitchen. You must stay here. I shall lock the door so no one else can get in and disturb you.’
‘D’yer ’ave ter go?’ Maggie asked.
‘I can’t cook dinner in here,’ Hester said reasonably.
‘But yer will come back?’ Charlie looked at her doubtfully.
‘Yer will?’ Mike echoed.
‘Of course I will,’ she promised. ‘We’re in this together.’
Hester went out into the kitchen garden to see what was growing, even if it had run a little wild. It had been originally laid out in plots with narrow paths between them, to make for easy gathering of herbs, but they were now overgrown.
She walked along the paths between all the beds, looking for something more substantial, possibly potatoes or carrots. Perhaps it was a little late for beans. Those fit to eat would have been harvested already.
It was not as well kept as she had expected, having seen the gardener from the window. Did he have other tasks so that caring for the vegetable patch was not a priority?
She found the potato bed, but they had already been lifted and there were a few weeds taken root. There were no carrots. She thought it likely the soil was too heavy. The only cabbages left had gone to seed.
They would have to make do with whatever was in the kitchen or the scullery.
Nevertheless, she made out a good clump of chives. There was mint all over the place, but mint was like that. Its roots ran under the surface to spring up in a dozen different places. There seemed to be both spearmint and apple mint. There was also some rather ragged parsley, a large bush of rosemary, and flowering sage, which gave off a very pleasant aroma when she disturbed it. There was also highly pungent lemon thyme, as well as the usual more ordinary sort. She would certainly make use of such a good crop. The herbs were both appetising and medicinal.
She picked some of the parsley, cropping the dead pieces as she went.
The kitchen door was unlocked. It was only as she was turning the handle to open it that she noticed the shadow of the gardener as he came around the corner, the large-barrelled gun still swinging easily on its rope over his shoulder. He stopped abruptly and watched her go in, before crossing the yard behind her and disappearing. Seeing him
gave her a cold, miserable reminder that she was a prisoner.
Inside the kitchen was warm and pleasantly aromatic. She could smell soup in the big pan on the stove, and hear it bubbling. There were many strings of onions hanging from the rafter beams, and what looked like shallots. She hoped Adrienne had put some in the soup. She should have asked her to.
Adrienne was standing in front of the stove, a wooden spoon in her hand. Her hair was falling out of its pins and curling in the steam. Her face was creased with anxiety. Clearly cooking for seven people was a challenge she did not enjoy. At home she would merely give orders to the servants. She might never have even been into the kitchen herself.
As Hester passed she gave her a glance, but did not speak. Their relationship was changed utterly from when they had been in the hospital, as equals with a purpose in common. Now Hester was a prisoner and Adrienne was part of the force that held her so – even if in effect she was as much a prisoner of circumstance herself.
Hester understood Adrienne far more than the younger woman would have believed. The fear of a parent’s death was far behind her, but the guilt of not having been there still lingered.
She held up the parsley. ‘I found this in the garden,’ she said as she offered it. ‘Almost all soups look more appetising with a little chopped and sprinkled on top. And it is very good for the digestion.’
Adrienne accepted it, but did not meet Hester’s eyes. ‘Thank you.’
Hester remained and helped finish off the vegetables that Adrienne had found in the storeroom, then took a generous portion to the children.
She returned in time to chop the parsley and sprinkle it over the soup, and then together they took it upstairs to Radnor’s room. Hester held the door open and Adrienne walked in, carrying it in a soup bowl, on a neatly set tray.
