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“I cannot be sure.”
“The rotunda then. See to it he’s out there, gazing towards the lake.”
It was time to open the curtains and let in the fresh breezes, which truly were blessedly fresh, if a little wet. Once Mister Foote had removed the concoction-slathered Baron from the rooms, Jane built up the fire and began burning the bed sheets. The lavender oil Mama had doused the sheets in helped the flames to a generous size.
Mama and Jane then held a blanket firmly across the face of the fireplace; the gap at the bottom caused the fire to suck heavily, taking the smoke, burnt sheets and smells directly up the chimney.
******
With no way of knowing how long their guests would be staying, Jane went to the kitchen gardens to check on food supplies. She found Lord Jardine already there, walking amongst the beds.
“Good morning, my Lord,” Jane said as she held her umbrella at a slight angle to keep as much of herself dry as possible against the diagonal rain. He too had an umbrella, but was becoming damp. “I trust you slept well?” Jane asked on approach.
“Good morning. I thought I’d compare kitchen gardens,” Lord Jardine said. “See what hybrids are doing well this season.”
“Excellent idea. You must ask the Baron what is doing well, this is all rather new to me.”
“He’s got a nasty cough,” Jardine said.
“Oh?”
“Yes, last night he could barely sip his drink.”
“Oh, the poor man.” Jane said, playing along. “He seemed fine later in the evening.”
“The footman said it was the hundred-day cough. Best keep him far from the children.”
Jane fought a smile, because that would give it all away, but this was the most perfect answer she could have received. Lord Jardine had bought their play, and now wanted the Baron to keep his distance. Wonderful!
Thankfully, there were items here that could remind her of miserable things, so that she didn’t betray her happiness. The crops, for example, were doing very poorly.
“When do you think summer might arrive?” She asked, turning her umbrella against the wind.
Jardine huffed.
“We’ll most likely move directly into winter. Your parsnip tops are looking weak and miserable. Your pumpkins have no flowers on the vines, nor the courgettes.”
Even without the threat of Jardine’s family booting them out, the lack of food growing in the gardens would see them all starve and end up on the streets no matter what.
“Have you examined the orangery?” he asked.
“I have not had the time, but I shall soon.”
“It’s looking miserly. The lemons are not producing much either.”
Oh dear, that did not sound good. “But the oranges are protected from cold weather, why would they be failing?”
Jardine shook his head.
“No bees.”
Jane stopped.
Oh dear! Looking around the garden beds, there was no sign of the flying insects. Well, they often didn’t fly about in the rain, that was predictable… but if it rained so much, they wouldn’t be out and about doing their busy work.
“I have yet to ask the gardener,” Jane said, just as the man himself approached. “Here he comes now. Mister Gardener, just the man Lord Jardine wishes to speak with. Lord Jardine, this is Mister Gardener.”
The head gardener doffed his hat and muttered a quick, ‘my Lord’ to Jardine, then Jardine peppered him with questions about hybrids and cross pollinating.
