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“Oh! Only think how spectacular this room would be with the new Venetian mirrors across one wall to reflect the light that streams in. And wouldn’t it be opulent if some of these tiles were hand painted! There is a wildlife artist in Shepherds Market who does herons and other wading birds. Oh, James, you must commission him to paint some miniatures of waterfowl. Flashing kingfishers, egrets, flamingos, spoonbills, the choice is endless.” She was so enthusiastic, he caught her mood.
He now saw the house through a woman’s eyes and he knew if he followed her suggestions he could turn the stately home he was building into a spectacular showcase.
“We are so fortunate being close to London. We have the best artisans in the world on our doorstep. Why don’t you commission one of the great European artists who now live in London to paint some of the ceilings? And the vast fireplaces you’ve installed cry out to be carved by Adam.”
“There are four Adam brothers; I know Robert and James quite well. They won’t just carve a fireplace or the moldings of a room. They have a strict rule that they will only design an entire room right down to the door handles and including all the furnishings. They believe that everything in a room should be in the same genre. The carpet must match the ceiling.”
“But, James, what a splendid idea. Commision Adams to do the main salon or the dining room and perhaps the gallery. You have only to please this nabob and the world will beat a path to your door.” Antonia blushed prettily. “I’m sorry, Mr. Wyatt, you are already reputed to be the best architect. I am being presumptuous to suggest you need attract clients.”
He smiled at her with indulgence. “I have clients aplenty, but they are not always paying clients like Mr. Savage.”
Antonia drew her brows together, quite prepared to be presumptuous again. “Whyever would you work for someone who didn’t pay you?”
“It is a little difficult to refuse royalty.” He smiled.
“Oh, I see,” she said, laughing at her own ignorance. “Then now is your chance to make up for your nonpaying clients. My guardian has bottomless coffers.” She flashed him an outrageous look from beneath her lashes. “If I get to meet William Kent, I shall persuade him to build elaborate walkways through the gardens with a lake and a stream and a Chinese bridge. Perhaps a tea pagoda or a grotto, or a Temple of the Sun. The possibilities are endless. And a long circuit through the park for riding and driving is an absolute must!” She put her head on one side. “Poor Mr. Wyatt, have I exhausted you?”
You have enchanted me, lady.“You’re not leaving?” he asked wistfully.
“You are too polite, James. You should have told me to run along home hours ago.”
“Promise you’ll come again?”
“Fire, flood, and pestilence couldn’t keep me away,” she promised him.
At dinner she kept Roz entertained as she recounted her adventure at Edenwood. “I shall go again and again. You must help me think of new and unique ways to spend his wealth. Oh, Roz, it’s quite addictive, this squandering money.”
Her grandmother was in total agreement. “It beats the hell out of moderation. If you are going to do something, do it with panache, I always say. That applies to everything, from painting your face to making love. Passion in all things. We seldom regret the things we do in life, darling, only the things we don’t do.”
“I pledge I shall take it for my motto: Passion in all things!” vowed Antonia.
On the other side of the world Adam Savage would have agreed with such a sentiment. The heat of the night enfolded him in the tropical paradise. There was no denying he would miss Leopard’s Leap, miss Ceylon and India. He had learned to live life to the full. One could only get out in equal measure what he put in. Only take back as much as he gave. It was a lesson he had had to learn the hard way.
When his father had died from the disease that went hand in hand with poverty, Adam had dedicated himself to making money. His first small, leaky trading vessel had smuggled Indian opium into China. He was soon richer than he had ever dreamed, but at what a price! To succeed in such a venture you eventually became a cutthroat. It all came down to one tenet, kill or be killed … destroy or be destroyed.
He would probably have gone on past the point of no return if it hadn’t been for the cargo they had offered him in a warehouse in Canton. Fifty prepubescent, delicate girl children for the slave trade. For him the choice had seemed easy. He would not damn his soul peddling child flesh. He agreed to trade the opium for the exquisite females, intending to sail them to freedom. How naive he had been to think they would turn over their priceless cargo. The thugs had sold these virgins a dozen times over and they had not seen the light of day outside the warehouse for over half a year.
Freeing them had almost cost him his life. He had sustained a dozen knife wounds and carried the disfiguring scars on his gut and torso to this day. The Tamil boy he had hired to cook and scrub for his crew nursed him back to life. When Savage had offered him a reward, he had said, “When you go home to England, take me with you.”
Savage knew he had been given a second chance at life and this time he vowed he would do it right. He purchased the failing plantation in Ceylon from a Dutchman. He imported rubber plants from Burma and tea seedlings from Souchong. Then he had worked eighteen to twenty hours a day, every day.
He knew it was time to go home, but, oh, how he would miss the heat and sweat, the temple incense and spices, the dirt and the darkness. A rare smile touched his lips as he watched for the last time a leopard come down to drink. Tomorrow he would leave this land of fascination behind. Tomorrow he sailed for England.
Chapter 9
The Southeast coast of England lay sweltering in the unusual heat of summer. Fashionable society left London like a mass migration of lemmings and headed for the sea at Brighton.
At Stoke the Lamb twins took their morning ride an hour early so their mounts would not suffer heat prostration. Anthony was teaching his sister to take the hedges as he did, without hesitation. Her mare often balked at stone walls and Antonia feared too much for the horse’s legs to force her, yet Anthony never encountered difficulty.
“Tony, it’s not the horse, it’s you,” he told her. “You are reluctant and you transfer it to your mare. Don’t think of a wall or a hedge as a barrier. Think through it. Visualize horse and rider clearing any obstacle to the other side. It’s simple; it’s a trick of the mind.”
“Tony, you mean if I don’t think we’ll clear it, we won’t?”
“Exactly! Once you set your mind to it, you can accomplish it … well, to be truthful the horse accomplishes it. You just have to show her you have total faith in her.”
It had worked all week. Anthony had set a bruising pace and Antonia had kept up with him and today, for the first time, passed him as she soared over the park hedge into the garden of Lamb Hall. He came thundering after, clods of turf flying into the air. They drew rein, laughing.
Anthony wiped his neck. “God’s teeth, I’m sweating like a bull.”
