‘It has to stop!’ he declared as if she had not spoken and strode ahead of her into the dining room where he seized a decanter and poured himself a large glass of wine. ‘We must find a workroom somewhere else. I thought when the book was published that it would mean an end to interference in our lives, but it seems as if it has increased instead of diminishing.’
‘Yes, I admit it has done in recent weeks. Well, I have a choice. It is either to stop taking any more orders or open a shop with a workroom on the premises.’
His mood eased and he turned to look at her through narrowed lashes. ‘I thought you had given up all idea of a shop.’
‘So I had, but I can reconsider.’
He shook his head. ‘It would take you away from the house and Richard. He’s more important than anything else.’
‘I would put Joan in charge and employ some women to do the work. She could manage very well without my constant supervision.’
He studied her again as he handed her his untouched glass of wine and then poured another for himself. ‘How long have you been thinking this over?’
‘Ever since it became apparent that my book was not the answer to everything as I thought it would be.’
He raised his glass to her. ‘You are a victim of your own success, my love. I suggest that for the time being a workroom should be found and deliveries take place from there.’
She nodded. ‘Agreed,’ she said.
Later in the great Tudor bed he made love to her so passionately that she was sure that she would conceive again from such a night. Her supposition proved to be right. Nine months later she gave birth to twin daughters, Mary and Sarah.
By that time the workshop, which had started at the back of an office, had taken over the whole property. With a shop window installed and a new pale-green decor there was a swinging sign over the door that was a replica of the one that had once hung above the door of the cottage that had burned down. Saskia had put Joan in charge of all the ordering and dispensing, and after a period of guidance let her take over and manage everything in her quick and efficient manner. Joan had also found time to marry a childless widower of similar age to herself, who had become the porter and proved to be invaluable in keeping the property in good repair and was always on hand in any emergency.
It left Saskia with all the time she wanted for her family. Her dream was coming true at last. When the great day came for viewing the carvings that Grinling had finally installed at Harting Hall Saskia and Robert took the three children with them. Grinling met them at the door, a little more portly than when his portrait had been painted, but handsomely bewigged and dressed in perfect taste as always and beaming with pride at what he had to show them.
‘I regret that you have had to wait so long,’ he said, ‘but such a commission as you gave me requires countless man-hours as you know.’
He went ahead to the grand drawing room and threw the double doors wide. Saskia caught her breath at the sheer beauty of his decorative carving that met her gaze. His garlands, far more luxuriant than any she had ever seen before, were looped along the wainscoting, the paleness of the lime wood that he had used making a striking contrast to the dark oak. All his love of nature and music had been poured into the flowers and foliage, the fruit and the berries, the tightly closed pea pods and the musical instruments that peeped out here and there. There were also scrolls of music, every note authentically carved, and any musician could have taken up an instrument and played from any one of them. Perhaps most impressive of all was the great overmantel surround that encompassed the twin portraits of her and Robert in the gilded frames, enhancing them dramatically. Then she spotted something else in the carvings.
‘Dutch tulips!’ she exclaimed. ‘You have given us some tulips from home!’
Robert glanced swiftly at her, thinking that she should have remarked on the roses, for her home was in England now, but he said nothing. He knew that she would always cherish memories of her homeland and he had no wish to deprive her of them.
‘What could be better,’ Grinling said jovially, ‘than to carve tulips for these two lovers who first met under Dutch skies!’
Now Saskia turned her gaze on Robert, meeting his eyes as they both remembered her wish that their likenesses should always been known as The Lovers. She thought again that the artist had captured their feelings exactly and their love for each other would for ever show in their eyes.
Grinling left after taking some refreshment with them and they saw him off in the fine new coach that he rode about in now. Elizabeth had her own carriage housed at La Belle Sauvage and that was almost as splendid. They were enjoying their prosperity, their marriage and their increasing number of children, for Elizabeth had given birth to a fourth son, named Harry, not long before Saskia had given birth to Baby Richard.
Saskia rejoiced for her two friends, for Grinling worked hard for long hours and deserved all the good fortune that came his way. He had taken on a second assistant and could have had more, but he was so meticulous in his work that he would only consider employing carvers of exceptional talent and they were hard to find. His only extra employee was a lad that put together various pieces of wood for when a three-dimensional effect was required in a finished carving. As this included much of the work that Grinling and his assistants did the lad was kept busy most of the time.
Now as Saskia went back into the grand drawing room, which she already thought of as the Grinling Gibbons room, she stood alone to gaze around again at its new magnificence. She understood from what Grinling had explained to her that time would darken the lime wood as the years went by until it was likely to become almost as dark as the oak itself in centuries to come, but she was certain that would only give another dimension to Grinling’s work and further enhance the beauty of it.
Twenty-Four
Elizabeth, knowing for certain that she was not pregnant at the present time, had decided the day had finally dawned for Grinling to face the upheaval of moving into a home more suitable for family life. She knew he was busier than ever, which had caused him to employ another young carver for the basic work. He also had in hand carvings for Windsor Castle where the King was having some rebuilding done. It was his most prestigious commission to date. As he took a sip of wine while dining at home with Elizabeth, the children all tucked up in bed, he had no idea that his wife was about to startle him out of his comfortable mood and tasty dinner.
‘Grinling,’ she began, gathering herself for what she had to say. ‘There are plenty of fine new houses built now on many desirable sites here in London and I think we should purchase one.’
‘All in good time, my dear,’ he answered mildly. It was not a subject he cared to discuss, being still perfectly content with their present abode.
‘A craftsman of your standing in society should have a better address,’ Elizabeth said firmly, having privately rehearsed all the angles from which to attack him.
‘There is nothing wrong with the one that we have,’ he replied, tucking into his plate of roast beef and vegetables. ‘This is a highly respected inn and everyone knows to find me here.’
‘But as I have said before, we need a garden where the children can safely play.’
‘There’s the park only a short walk away.’ It was an argument that had taken place any number of times before.
‘No, Grinling! That is not good enough!’
The unusually sharp tone of her voice caused him to look at her in surprise, halting his fork halfway to his mouth. ‘Is it not?’
‘Remember how we have had to rush out into the courtyard to save one child or another from getting under the horses’ hooves in the stables or running too near rolling coach wheels.’
‘That has not happened very often and every time we were near enough to avoid any danger,’ he commented, although the force of her words had struck home. His children were very precious to him.
‘The day could come when we are all too late to prevent a tragedy and we cannot risk
that happening!’ she continued heatedly. ‘I want a house that I can make a home and where our children are safe! I have been patient long enough!’
She had brought the subject up at regular intervals ever since she had first suggested a move, but now he could tell by her whole attitude that they had reached the point of no return. He was too busy and had too much on his mind to be harassed day after day, which he could foresee happening with Elizabeth rebelling at last. She had an iron will beneath her gentle exterior, although it rarely showed, for she loved best to keep all happy and peaceful around her. Now she would keep a vice-like grip on the subject and there would be no letting go until she had her own way. He had known for a long time that he would have to make the decision to change residences sooner or later and now clearly the time had come.
‘Very well. I agree,’ he said calmly. ‘We can consider a move from here.’ Then he saw the whole of her dearly loved face lighting up for him and he smiled indulgently. ‘You have waited a long time for us to have a home of our own, my dear, and, as you say, most important of all, we cannot risk our little ones getting into danger.’
‘Yes, indeed!’ she replied ecstatically.
He frowned warningly. ‘But I shall retain my workshop here,’ he stated in case she expected him to uproot himself too.
‘Yes, of course,’ she agreed willingly. ‘In any case I would not want wood shavings following you into a new home as they do here.’
His frown did not lift. ‘You realize that I have no time to go looking for a house with you?’
‘No matter. Saskia will accompany me as she did once before.’
He gave a nod. ‘Remember that there are still some poorly built structures on the market that have been thrown together in the still high need for housing. So when you have found the house of your dreams I want you to ask Robert to survey it for any structural faults. Too many rogue builders are using defective materials with disastrous results. So if he approves the property I’ll sign the contract.’
‘You darling man!’ Elizabeth sprang up from her seat and flew round the table to kiss him heartily on the cheek, hugging him about the neck until he eased her arms away.
‘Don’t choke me, my dear. I have not finished my good dinner yet.’
She returned to her chair, too excited to eat any more, already thinking about the decor she had long dreamed of having in a real home.
Saskia always enjoyed Elizabeth’s company and was as willing as before to help her find a new residence, for she was interested in viewing the various properties, although she had no wish to move from her and Robert’s home.
Naturally Elizabeth knew exactly what she wanted in the house for which she had waited so long, but it meant that it was not an easy task to find one that fulfilled all her requirements. It had to be a house where her four children could have sunny rooms with adjoining accommodation for the nursemaid. The kitchen had to be large and the servants’ quarters in the attic of reasonable size, for Elizabeth believed in giving consideration to those who worked for her. Lucy had left to be married, but Elizabeth’s new personal maid was Isabelle, a widowed Frenchwoman in her forties with a charming manner and an enthusiastic regard for Saskia’s products. Elizabeth did not want to lose her and so a pleasant room for her was also on the agenda as well as quarters of equal standard for the housekeeper. Elizabeth was particularly looking forward to having her first housekeeper, for previously she had managed everything herself and often matters had become quite chaotic.
There was one asset in which she was not interested and which Saskia would have considered first of all. Elizabeth did not want a quiet street or square on which to live for the rest of her days, because she still loved being at the hub of London life as much as when Grinling first took her to live at the inn. The stench of the streets did not trouble her, for she always carried a pomander or a posy of scented flowers to keep unpleasant odours at bay.
She liked to hear the songs of the women selling lavender, ripe cherries or whatever else was in season, backed by the shouts of the pedlars and the water-sellers, the muffin men with trays on their heads and the whistling of tradesmen’s lads delivering goods. Some of the milkmaids kept up a musical chant as they ladled out milk into people’s jugs. Then there were the stirring sounds of pipes and drums whenever a troop of soldiers marched to or from Whitehall Palace as well as the music of wandering minstrels. Almost always there was the colourful bellowing of coachmen when their way was blocked, which combined with everything else to bring all life pulsating outside her windows.
‘Oh, no,’ she said determinedly to Saskia. ‘A quiet tree-lined avenue amid grand mansions is not for me.’
After three months and just when Elizabeth realized that she was pregnant again the house she wanted was finally located in Bow Street, Covent Garden. Here on both sides of the bow-shaped street there were plenty of grand mansions as well as other houses not so fine and some that had seen better days a hundred years before. In days gone by it had been notorious as the haunt of criminals, but that had changed long since. These days a prestigious number of intellectuals, including some members of the nobility, resided now in Bow Street side by side with clergy, three doctors, a lawyer, two actresses and a flamboyant actor, who always dressed in purple, these three performing regularly at nearby Drury Lane Theatre. There was a magistrates’ court, several workshops, a library and the popular Wills coffee house on the corner with Russell Street where Saskia had once drunk coffee with Grinling and Robert. Altogether Bow Street housed a colourful cross-section of society, which made it all the more interesting to Elizabeth.
The house that had captured her heart was newly built on a site where previously an ancient coach-house had stood in ruins. It had a fine facade and three steps up from the street to the imposing entrance, which had a pillared porch. To the rear was what would become an enclosed garden with trees, but which presently had the appearance of a ploughed field. Yet when laid out with lawns and flower beds it would be a beautiful place in which to watch the children at play. Then Elizabeth was exasperated to hear from Saskia that Robert was out of London on a project and was not expected back for another month.
‘I cannot wait that long for him to survey the house!’ she exclaimed to Saskia, throwing up her hands in dismay . . . ‘Other people will be after such a gem!’
‘Robert is a full day’s journey away,’ Saskia answered, ‘but I’ll write and ask him if he can spare a day to come home and check on the property for you.’
‘Would you? I should be so grateful!’
Robert replied at once, willing to come, but it could not be until the following week. That night Elizabeth was unable to sleep, tormented by the fear of losing the house that she had fallen in love with on sight. She could not and would not risk losing it to anyone else! It had been such a long and tedious search to find it.
In the morning, without saying a word to anyone, she went to see the builder, a sly-eyed fellow with an enormous girth, named Alfred Smith. He had received her in his office, and his expressionless face did not change as she offered the sum he wanted for the property without quibbling over the price, which any other would-be purchaser would have done.
‘I must have your husband’s signature on the contract, mistress,’ he said, for he knew that even if this woman had money of her own she was under her husband’s jurisdiction. No woman had a legal right to sign anything after she had written her name on a marriage certificate. He also knew an eager buyer when he saw one and added a much-used lie to spur her desperation to purchase. ‘I feel obliged to tell you that I have two more prospective buyers coming to view the property later today.’
‘But Master Gibbons is too busy to come here to your office!’ she exclaimed frantically. ‘Take the contract to him now at his workshop at La Belle Sauvage. I’m going back there now and will alert him to expect you.’
He stood to bow her out of his office. ‘I will be there at noon,’ he promised.
Grinling was inst
ructing his youngest apprentice in the use of a finely bladed tool and gave a smiling, but somewhat abstracted nod, when she told him that the builder was coming with the contract for his signature.
‘I’ll be here,’ he said.
She kept watch and saw the builder arrive. When he had departed she went down to the workshop full of trepidation. There was the possibility that a casual comment by the builder would have given away that there had been no inspection by Robert or anyone else, which would have resulted in Grinling’s refusal to sign the contract. But she need not have been fearful, for to her intense relief Grinling greeted her with a smile.
‘I managed to get a better price for the house than was originally quoted to you, my dear. Now the house of your choice is ours.’
She burst into tears, overcome by emotion, a sense of guilt mingling with intense relief. He put down his chisel to leave his work and put his arms around her. ‘This is no time for tears,’ he said with a little laugh to cheer her. ‘You can go upstairs now and start planning everything for the move to Bow Street.’
‘Yes, I can.’ She began drying her eyes, comforting herself in the knowledge that when Robert eventually saw the house he would congratulate her on the purchase. Then she could confess to Grinling and he would forgive her little deception.
It was usual for a newly built house to stand empty for three to six months in order to allow the plaster and all else to dry out completely, which to Elizabeth seemed the longest time that she had ever known. Fortunately she was having no trouble with her pregnancy and was looking forward to bearing her seventh child in her new home.
She had confided her little sin of deceiving Grinling to Saskia and asked her to beg Robert not to give her away. Fortunately Grinling never questioned him on the matter and when he inspected the property he kept his opinion to himself. He and Saskia had called in not just for him to view the house that day, but also for Saskia to take a new toy for one of the Gibbons children, who was still in bed with a chesty cough. As she disappeared upstairs, calling to the child as she went, Elizabeth, rotund in her pregnancy, took Robert into the grand drawing room.
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