Page 130 of The Mistress of Ashmore Castle

‘I’m sure I won’t.’

First they strolled about the small formal garden at the back of the house, where they were joined by Peason, the head gardener. He eyed Fenchurch suspiciously, and gave his opinion that the slope behind the house was too steep to do anything with, and that there was no point in setting her ladyship up for disappointment.

‘I’ve got my hands full with the kitchen gardens,’ he concluded. ‘And her ladyship wants more glass – grapes, nectarines, melons. Might even manage a pinery, my lady,’ he added beguilingly to Kitty. ‘I haven’t never tasted a ripe pineapple, but they do say it’s a wonder of a fruit. Wouldn’t mind trying my hand at that.’

‘Yes, that would be something special,’ Kitty said. ‘You’re doing a wonderful job, Peason, and I’m especially glad for his lordship’s sake, because he’s such a delicate eater. Fresh fruit and vegetables make all the difference to him, and to his health. But I want my pleasure garden as well. It won’t take away from your kitchen gardens, I promise.’

Peason’s face set in disappointed lines, like a dog watching a door closing, and he stayed silent as Fenchurch asked Kitty what she imagined beyond the little parterre.

‘Do you think it’s too steep?’ she asked meekly.

‘You can garden anywhere, even on a cliff face,’ Fenchurch said. ‘This is not too steep by any means. I think it will lend itself admirably to terracing.’

‘What does that mean exactly?’

He described it with gestures. ‘You dig away some of the hillside to create a level area, with a retaining wall in front and behind to hold the hill in place. And repeat the process upwards as often as you wish.’

‘I would like it to look quite natural, if that’s possible.’

‘Of course. The plots you create can be any shape, and the retaining structures can be hidden by plants, or incorporated into rockeries. All the shapes you create can be curved, meandering, overlapping, so that they fit the contours of the ground. No need at all for straight lines. Same with the planting – the shrubs and flowers in sinuous sweeps, blending with the shape of the plot, just as they do in nature.’

‘Straight lines are necessary for hoeing,’ Peason objected. ‘How can you get the weeds out from between the plants if you don’t have straight lines?’

Fenchurch looked at him indulgently. ‘That’s the beauty of this sort of planting – you don’t have to weed. The plants cover all of the ground, no bare earth.’

Peason shook his head at such folly, and Kitty intervened: ‘Every time I look at this hillside from my window, I imagine what it would be like to have a stream running down it, with little pools and waterfalls, perhaps.’

‘Oh, Lady Stainton, you have made me very happy! Of all things, I love to introduce water to a garden – and with a fall such as this, there are so many possibilities. And,’ he added eagerly, ‘I took the liberty of studying the Ordnance Survey maps of the area, and it seems that you have two natural brooks coming down this hillside, the Shel to the south and the Wade to the north, either or both of which could be diverted to provide the water. It makes it so much easier to have water coming down a hill if you don’t have to pump it up there in the first place.’

Peason said. ‘And when you’ve dug away half a hillside, sir, where d’you think you’re going to put all that soil?’

He gave his answer to Kitty, his eyes dancing with excitement. ‘I couldn’t help noticing on my way up here from the station that you have a fine downhill slope on the other side of the house. Two very large terraces, given over to lawn and perhaps a few carefully placed shrubs and trees, would greatly improve the aspect, and provide agreeable places to walk and sit.’

‘It would be like having a park,’ Kitty said. ‘His lordship’s mother always complains that Ashmore has no park.’

‘And that, my friend,’ Fenchurch said to Peason, ‘is what you do with half a hillside.’

‘Dig it out from the back and pile it up at the front,’ Kitty said. ‘That’s so clever.’

‘Rather in the way they make railway lines,’ said Fenchurch. ‘The earth dug out to make a cutting is piled up to make the next embankment.’

‘Is that so? I never realised!’ Kitty exclaimed.

Peason shook his head again, but this time more in wonder than disapproval. ‘The things you can do nowadays,’ he said. ‘If you’ll excuse me, my lady, sir, I got to tend to my architokes.’ He knuckled his forehead and stumped away.

Fenchurch bade him a civil farewell and, when he was gone, said to Kitty, ‘Strange how many gardeners have difficulty with the word “artichoke”. My father’s gardener, when I was a boy, called them ratchet-cocks. Shall we go and look at the front now?’

‘Were you always interested in gardening?’ Kitty asked, leading the way. He was so easy to talk to, it was like chatting to Nina.

‘You look very handsome in evening dress,’ Molly said. ‘You should always wear it.’

‘Yes, especially when out hunting,’ Richard said. ‘It would shorten my valet’s life considerably, though. He regards a minute smudge on a dress boot as a dagger to the heart – think how he would react to several pounds of moist loam. You, however, look beautiful in anything.’

She looked stern. ‘You cannot have thought what you are saying. A woman spends several hours dressing with the utmost care for an evening at the Queen’s Hall, and you tell her it doesn’t matter in the least, she’d do just as well in her day dress.’

He laughed. ‘You know quite well that’s not what I meant. I suspect you are talking to hide your nerves. Are you nervous, O mother of the soloist?’

‘Of course I am, especially as I haven’t been able to see her for a week. She forbade me to visit – said she couldn’t be distracted from her final preparations.’