The Botanist’s Daughter Read online

  ‘Quick, inside!’ Tomas shouted over the noise of the hailstorm. He fastened the horses to a railing at the front of the hut, taking off their saddles and blankets and then, still holding the blankets, pulled her inside.

  There was no door – ‘likely burned as firewood a long time ago,’ explained Tomas – merely a worn animal hide to block the worst of the weather. As they went inside, the sound of the storm lessened and Elizabeth shook the water out of her eyes and looked around the dim space. It was a wretched place, but at least it offered some respite. She could make out a narrow ledge on one side of the small room that looked like it was for sleeping, and at the other a large fire pit, with a deep pile of ash but no wood.

  ‘It is a casucha,’ Tomas explained. ‘For shelter in times like this.’

  Elizabeth could only nod as she shivered in her wet clothes.

  ‘Here,’ he said, handing her one of the horse blankets. ‘You had better wrap yourself in this.’

  Elizabeth, unwilling to admit she had been frightened by the intensity of the storm, the likes of which she had never before encountered, could not stop her teeth chattering.

  ‘I think you might have to remove your dress,’ Tomas said. ‘You will never get warm if you stay wet. I shall look away. Please do not fear for your modesty.’

  Elizabeth’s fingers were stiff and clumsy with cold and trembled as she tried to undo the buttons of her bodice. Tomas, true to his word, had turned away and was busy shaking out the other blanket and laying it on the shelf.

  She cleared her throat. ‘Actually, I wonder if you might help me with this,’ she said. ‘My fingers will not do my bidding.’

  Their eyes met, and from being freezing mere moments ago, heat began to rise up from deep within her. She held his gaze with a bold look.

  ‘Anything you desire, mi corazon.’ Tomas’s blue eyes darkened as he unbuttoned her, his fingers lingering on the chemise beneath. ‘I think this will have to be removed as well,’ he said.

  Elizabeth looked down, seeing that the fine linen lawn was soaked sheer to her skin. ‘I think it will,’ she said, swallowing, for her throat was suddenly parched. ‘Perhaps,’ she said, shocked at her boldness, ‘you might help with that too?’

  ‘Si, señorita,’ he murmured, easing the fabric of the chemise over her shoulders. He then bent down and picked her up, taking her by surprise, before placing her on the sleeping shelf. Her legs dangled uselessly in mid-air. ‘Your stockings …’ he gestured, unlacing her boots and pulling them gently from her feet.

  ‘Indeed. They are wet too,’ she gasped.

  It was Tomas’s turn for trembling hands, and Elizabeth could see them shake as he reached up through her skirts, his fingers encountering the tender flesh at the top of her stockings. He gently unrolled the sodden silk, revealing first a pale kneecap and then a slim ankle and then repeated his actions with the other stocking. He bent his head and began to trail kisses from her instep to her knee. Her head spun. Had she taken leave of her senses?

  Tomas suddenly ceased his worship of her legs and, placing his hands firmly about her waist, pulled her down from the shelf. She stood, facing him, her eyes searching his face. He lifted one hand to caress her cheek. Elizabeth ached for the feel of his lips, and raised her chin, yearning. As he bent and kissed her, she fancied she could smell the scent of a pine forest in summer, warm and sweet and richly resinous. Time seemed to stand still as they drank each other in, tasting, marvelling at the softness …

  After a while, Tomas unfastened her skirts, letting them puddle on the ground, before fumbling with his boots and breeches and letting them drop too. Wearing only his shirt, he picked her up and settled her on the shelf again, then climbed up to join her. The storm continued its thunderous fury as they lay on the blanket, chest to chest, each feeling the beat of the other’s heart. Slowly, gently, he began to caress her, starting with her shoulders and then tracing a line down over her breasts and down to the core of her. Elizabeth felt released. Released from shame or self-consciousness. Released from the moral strictures of society, from those who would seek to judge her. All that mattered was that she was here, in this dark shepherd’s hut with Tomas, whom she loved like no other. She surrendered herself completely to him, no thought of anything other than that moment.

  Chapter Thirty-two

  LONDON, SUMMER 2017

  Anna noticed Ed as soon as she stepped into the small paved courtyard of the beer garden. He was waiting at a wooden picnic table that backed onto a wall overgrown with trailing campanula – bellflowers – that needed a trim, she thought absent-mindedly. He stood up as he noticed her. ‘Anna!’ He seemed extremely happy to see her; with nothing of the standoffishness of British men that she’d been led to expect was the norm. ‘So pleased you could make it. What would you like to drink? Pimm’s perhaps?’

  ‘That sounds nice.’ She had a vague idea what Pimm’s was, though she’d never actually tried it. It sounded appealing.

  He was wearing a crisp, pale-blue shirt and faded jeans, and even Anna, who had almost given up noticing such things, thought how well they matched his eyes. She moved closer to greet him and inhaled his aftershave: wintergreen and spice. Delicious.

  ‘So, your daughter …’ she said, sitting opposite him.

  ‘At home with a babysitter.’

  ‘And your wife? Is she coming too?’

  There was a pause.

  ‘She’s dead.’

  ‘Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry.’ Her hand flew to her mouth. ‘How stupid of me.’

  ‘You weren’t to know,’ he said, reassuring her. ‘And don’t be sorry. She left me with Ella, and she’s absolutely the best thing that ever happened to me.’ He gave her a wry grin. ‘As Matisse said, “There are always flowers for those that want to see them.”’

  ‘What a lovely sentiment. But you must have been a child bridegroom,’ she replied, trying to lighten the situation.

  He grinned. ‘We met at the beginning of my final year at Cambridge; Ella was on the way by the end of it. Sometimes you just know and that’s all there is to it. Now, let’s sort you out with a drink.’

  Ed went to the bar and Anna watched the other customers in the pub. Almost all of them seemed to have recently knocked off from work. Ties were loosened, jackets hung off the back of chairs. Large glasses of ale were being chugged. The air was filled with the sound of voices relieved to have put the grind of the day behind them.

  ‘Here you are.’ Ed put a tall, fruity-looking drink, filled with cucumber and mint, down in front of her and placed a pint on the table for himself. ‘I hope you didn’t feel steamrollered into this. Hal can be quite imperious when he wants to. He’s always trying to set me up … Not that I mind in your case at all, of course,’ he added hurriedly.

  So, Dr Graham had persuaded him into bringing her. Her spirits tumbled.

  ‘Oh golly, now it’s my turn to put my foot in it? That didn’t come out sounding right, it wasn’t what I meant at all. How could I possibly mind being accompanied by a beautiful Aussie girl? Forget I said anything. Anyway, how was your day?’

  He looked so contrite that Anna couldn’t help but smile. ‘I can’t believe how many people there were out and about today,’ she said. ‘Pall Mall was absolutely heaving. And I barely even got close to the palace railings. But Green Park was lovely, though it was odd to see deckchairs on the lawns – I thought they were only for beaches. They were very popular with sunbathers, though.’

  ‘Tourist season. Don’t worry, it goes back to a manageable crush by September.’

  ‘I feel like a country hick. It was exhausting.’ She smiled to let him know she wasn’t complaining too much.

  ‘Speaking of the country, what are your plans for visiting Cornwall?’

  ‘Well, I thought I’d get the train down tomorrow and spend the weekend there. Did I mention there’s someone I’m trying to track down?’ Anna took a sip of her drink. ‘Oh, that’s delicious!’ she exclaimed.

  ‘Good!�
�� he beamed. ‘Now, carry on. Who are you looking for?’

  ‘There’s a woman – Florence Deverell. She’s the last surviving relative of the Trebithicks. I reckon there’s a connection between the sketchbook and Trebithick Hall, because of the photo.’

  ‘Yes, yes of course. How fascinating. Do you know where she lives?’

  ‘If the telephone directory is correct, there’s an FE Deverell living in Trevone – is that how you pronounce it? It’s pretty close to Trebithick Hall, I think; well, according to Google Maps, anyway. I’m pretty sure it’s her. I can’t reach her on the phone, but I wrote to her before I left.’

  ‘I know Trevone, and yes, that’s exactly how you say it. A lovely bay. Great walks. We went there on a geography field trip when I was at prep school, if I remember correctly. I’ll mention it to Hal when I see him; it might help him shed more light on the sketchbook.’

  ‘Thanks, that would be great.’

  They talked some more about Cornwall, and then Ed drained his glass and looked at his watch. ‘I think we should probably get over there before all the food’s gone; botanists are a hungry lot, not to mention the ground staff.’

  The sounds of a string quartet floated on the air and the scent of flowers was borne on the breeze towards them as they approached a large marquee set up adjoining The Orangery. A crowd of people, the women looking like butterflies in pale-coloured, fluttering summer dresses, the men in blazers or pastel shirt sleeves, had gathered on the lawn, the twilight casting long shadows on the grass. There was even a straw boater or two. It looked to Anna like a quintessentially English garden party. Which of course it was. She tried not to be too intimidated.

  There was more Pimm’s, and Champagne, and elderflower cordial. Anna found another glass of Pimm’s – with what seemed like half a fruit bowl added to it – pressed into her hand as Ed, a guiding hand at her back, escorted her into the melee.

  ‘This is my colleague, Nigel. Dr Nigel Hawking, Miss Anna Jenkins.’

  A professorial-looking man wearing a striped bow tie and a waistcoat gave Anna a small bow and took her hand. ‘Delighted,’ he said to her. ‘What an attractive couple you make. Ed, where did you find such a charming young woman?’

  Anna blushed furiously. She wasn’t used to being complimented; it must be the dress, she decided. The sooner she was back in trousers, the better.

  ‘She’s visiting us from Down Under.’

  Nigel raised his eyebrows.

  ‘And has brought with her rather a fascinating collection of botanical illustrations.’

  ‘How wonderful,’ he said, looking at her with possibly even more interest than he had before.

  ‘Nigel’s a keeper at the Economic Botany Collection,’ Ed explained.

  ‘We’ve been collecting medicinal plants at Kew since the 1820s – there are over twenty thousand specimens. Did you know that it was Kew that helped pioneer research into antimalarial medicine? All from various species of cinchona bark.’

  ‘How interesting,’ said Anna, a little put off by his intense stare, but then realised he was looking beyond her to an approaching waitress with a tray of canapés.

  ‘Oh delicious, quail’s eggs,’ he said, snaffling several before continuing, spraying crumbs of food at Anna as he spoke. ‘Botanical medicine is where it’s at. There’s a wealth of material out there and we don’t know the half of it. We’re at the forefront of identifying plant compounds that can help treat any number of diseases, from cancers to heart conditions. Alkaloids are particularly fascinating. It’s not all just pretty flowers here, you know.’

  ‘Apologies, Nigel, but we shouldn’t monopolise you,’ Ed interrupted. ‘I think the Director is over there …’

  Nigel’s bushy eyebrows beetled up as he looked in the direction Ed was pointing. ‘Oh quite, quite,’ he said and scurried over to where the head of the Gardens was standing.

  ‘Sorry about that, he gets a bit carried away. The man could go on for hours,’ Ed apologised.

  ‘Not at all,’ said Anna. ‘But thanks anyway.’

  ‘Hello there!’ A tall man with a stoop and wildly dishevelled hair nearly tripped over as he approached them. His pinstriped suit looked rumpled and smelled vaguely musty, as if it spent most of its time balled up in a cupboard.

  ‘Anna, this is my colleague, Dr Thomas.’

  ‘Oh, Albert, please.’ The man grinned at her as he pushed his hair out of his eyes and focused on her.

  Anna smiled back.

  ‘Work in the city, do you?’ he asked Anna.

  ‘Er …’ Anna looked at him in confusion.

  ‘No, she’s visiting from Australia,’ said Ed. ‘Not one of your plant-loving bankers I’m afraid, Albert.’

  ‘Oh. Pity. I’d heard there were a few coming. They’re all plant collectors these days – it’s the new art, or wine, or … something,’ he said in a confiding tone. ‘Mad about galanthus – snowdrops, that is. And saguaro cactus. Some of them even have security guards and insurance, can you imagine? Thought I might be able to talk one of them into some sponsorship. If I can find them, that is.’

  ‘Good luck with that,’ said Ed, as he steered Anna towards the centre of the tent. It was a warm night and as Anna finished her glass she suddenly felt light-headed. ‘Do you think we might sit for a bit?’ she asked. ‘Those Pimm’s are stronger than they look.’

  ‘Of course,’ Edwin was solicitous. ‘Why don’t I find us some food? Sit here,’ he said guiding her to a bench, ‘and I’ll be right back.’

  Anna sank onto the seat. The air was still balmy, despite the sun lowering in the sky. Twilight in England seemed to go on for hours, like a guest reluctant to leave a party. She loved the day’s slow drawing to a close, but as she glanced over towards the gates of the Gardens, she noticed thunderclouds gathering overhead.

  ‘Jenkins?’

  ‘Mm?’ Anna looked up to see Edwin standing before her carrying two plates of food heaped with a variety of salads. ‘I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I got a bit of everything.’

  Anna was touched at how he was looking after her. ‘Really, you are very kind, but you don’t have to babysit me all evening.’

  ‘But what if I want to?’ he said, earnestly, the Labrador look back on his face. ‘You can’t get rid of me that easily,’ he added.

  ‘Oh, well in that case …’ She gratefully took a plate from him and made space on the bench for him to sit beside her.

  ‘Do you know, I’ve been thinking,’ said Ed, between mouthfuls. ‘You might want a car when you’re down in Cornwall – I wouldn’t chance trying to rely on the local bus system there; it’s close to non-existent.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Anna, ‘okay. I’ll look into it. Do you think I should hire a car when I’m down there, or drive from London?’

  ‘Well, actually … I’m not doing much this weekend. I could drive you down. Only if you want, that is,’ he said tentatively.

  Anna hadn’t the heart to extinguish the look of hope in his eyes. Besides, she would be happy to have the chance to spend more time with him. Very happy, in fact.

  ‘But what about Ella?’

  ‘It’s her cousin’s birthday party this weekend. She’d have a pink fit if she missed that. My sister will be glad to have her – Ella and her cousins are more like siblings. I’ve had to rely on her a lot, since my wife … you know.’

  ‘Well, only if you’re sure.’

  ‘Honestly? I’d welcome the chance to get out of the city on such a stifling weekend and see the place again – it’s beautiful down there, there’s a special magic. The coastline is so wild and unspoiled. The beaches even compare favourably with Australian ones, so I’m led to believe. And besides, there’s clotted cream and pasties and real ale – what’s not to like?’

  ‘You’ve convinced me,’ said Anna, laughter catching in her throat as a flash and a loud rumble sounded overhead.

  ‘Oh heavens,’ said Ed. ‘Quick, we’d better get out of here before we get drenched.’ They pu
t down their nearly empty plates and fled in the direction of the marquee. The other guests had a similar idea and soon the open tent was a mass of people sheltering from the coming storm. Everyone carried on their conversations, shouting to be heard over each other, and the noise was soon deafening. Waiters did their best to thread their way through the crowd, but there was the inevitable smash of broken glass as someone backed into a full tray of drinks. Ed caught Anna’s eye. ‘Shall we get out of here?’ he yelled.

  ‘Okay,’ she said, leaning in to him and, as she did so, catching again the scent of his cologne. ‘Where to?’

  ‘If we leg it now, we might be able to pick up a cab before the worst of it hits. Sorry, I didn’t bring a brolly.’ Ed grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the gates. ‘Follow me.’

  At that moment there was another huge clap of thunder and fat, heavy raindrops began to spatter the ground, lightly at first, then, within seconds, turning to a deluge, soaking Anna and Ed. Anna’s blue dress stuck to her skin, plastering itself to her legs, and she gathered up her skirt to make it easier to run. Water streamed down her face, making star points of her eyelashes and dripping off her chin. She began to giggle at the absurdity of it and Ed joined in, his baritone ringing out over the sound of the rain. A cab, its light blinking orange, came around the bend and Ed hailed it.

  ‘Look at you: wetter than an otter’s pocket,’ said Ed as they bundled in, which only made Anna laugh even more, and she shook the tendrils of damp hair from her eyes, hiccoughing with giggles.

  ‘I’m what?’

  ‘Soggy as a sandwich. Damp as a squib.’

  Another giggle rose irrepressibly within her.

  ‘There you are …’ he said, tucking a wayward strand of hair from her ear and gazing into her eyes. ‘I knew I’d find you eventually.’