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“Very much so, the broad beans especially.” Jane confirmed.
Mrs Gardener delivered a beaming smile at that news. It seemed to be the key to opening doors and hearts, as Mrs Gardener invited Jane to a cup of tea in their cottage.
“Don’t you fill our mistress’s head with gossip, Beth, she has more important things to do that get her ears filled with muck.”
“Oh be awff with ya,” Bethany said.
Jane could scarcely believe her luck. Gossip? Yes please!
“If ye don’t mind, my Lady, the rain has stopped and I must check on the marrows, if ye don’t mind following me around?”
Goodness, the rain had stopped. It wouldn’t be right to keep them from their work, when food was so scarce this year.
“It’s just that they’re not likely to fertilise themselves.”
“A bit like humans,” Jane said, before reining herself in. “Goodness, I misspoke!”
Mrs Gardener gave Jane a knowing wink, “Good thing we don’t need bees to help us with that, or we’d all be in trouble!”
Giggling, Jane followed Bethany to the garden beds, where strong vines grew over climbing frames.
“Now ma’am, as you don’t have long sleeves on, I recommend keeping your distance, as these things are covered in invisible prickles.”
Much like the Jardines, Jane silently mused.
Bethany took some of the flowers and picked them off, then peeled the petal completely away, exposing the pollen-covered stamen. Then she took that stamen and tickled against a tiny marrow beginning to flower.
“Any other year, we certainly could leave this task off the roster, but have you seen a bee lately in these parts?”
“Now that you mention it… I have not.”
“Time was you couldn’t let the hounds run on the clover lawn, they’d get stung so many times they’d keep us up all night with their howling. My Barker once got himself bit right on the tongue when he tried to eat one, and didn’t we all know about that!” Bethany said.
“Is the lack of bees the reason there is so little fruit this year?” Jane asked.
“Aye, it is.” Bethany fertilised another baby marrow and moved on to the squash cage, where she repeated the process. “Not that this works so much at any rate, but waiting for the bees means we’ll get nothing. I can make the male and female flowers come together, but making sure something grows is beyond my powers.”
Cold dread moved through Jane. She and Mister Foote had been making many attempts. The thought that it might not work hadn’t entered her mind. She and the footman should make sure they tried again, just in case.
They moved on to a bed of greens featuring chard, French beans, and her beloved broad beans. Which reminded Jane, “The broad beans are delicious, I appreciate all your efforts.”
“Thank you, my Lady. They at least don’t need bees, and for that we count our blessings. But if the bees don’t come back soon, we’ll quickly be sick of the taste of them.”
The sight of Mrs Gardener fertilising the flowers made Jane blush at memories of her moments with Mister Foote. And her appallingly naïve notion of what it really would take to… well, become fertile herself. Her body flushed at the thought of another session in the dressing room. The thought quickened her blood even as a fresh gust of rain hit the garden beds.
“Ah well, at least we haven’t needed to cart water this year,” Bethany said as she dabbed another dusty stamen over one more flower head.
Jane noticed that some of the squash were already growing, as they were double the size of any others nearby.
“Those look like they’re growing well. You clearly have the touch.”
“Hopefully most of them will, but they’re good at fooling you. They make a start, and then they stop. Along with the bees, we’ve had a distinct lack of sun this year.”
“Oh dear, that really isn’t very good.”
As they walked on, something fluttered in the breeze.
Ribbons.
