he said wearily.
It was then that enlightenment dawned. Toby had been banished; it was not his choice. ‘Who sent him away?’ she demanded. ‘And why?’
‘Go home, Miss Elizabeth, please. It is not fitting you should be here. Put your questions to your mama.’
What did her mother know of it? A little seed of suspicion began to grow in her mind. ‘I will. Thank you, Mr Kendall.’
She could hardly wait to see her mother and dashed up to her boudoir and flung open the door. Her mother looked up from the letter she was writing to confront a daughter whose dark eyes blazed angrily. ‘Beth, what is the matter?’
‘Toby has gone.’
‘Yes, I know. He has always wanted to travel to find new plants and the opportunity arose—’
‘Very suddenly it seems,’ Beth interrupted her. ‘So suddenly he was not even allowed to say goodbye to me.’
‘It was for the best.’
‘That’s what Mr Kendall said. I want to know what he meant.’
‘Sit down, Beth, and calm yourself.’
Beth took a deep breath and sank on to a stool close to her mother’s chair. ‘I am calm.’
Harriet smiled. Calm her daughter certainly was not, but she was waiting for an answer and deserved one. ‘You know Toby has always said he wanted to go plant hunting?’
‘Of course I do, I was the one who told you that.’
‘Well, he has been given the opportunity to go and it was too good to miss.’
‘But, Mama, he’s gone without me.’
‘Of course he has. You did not seriously think you would be allowed to go with him, did you?’
Beth stared at her. ‘He’s been sent away from me, hasn’t he? I wondered what you meant when you asked me if he had been filling my head with ideas about working for a living. You were afraid I might…What exactly did you think I might do, Mama? Elope with him?’
‘No, of course not,’ Harriet answered so swiftly that Beth knew that she had unwittingly hit the nail on the head. ‘But you must admit you have been seeing a lot of him and I believe it is because of him you are so against having a come-out…’
‘That has nothing to do with Toby.’
‘Nevertheless, a little time apart might be beneficial…’
‘And what did Toby say?’
‘He understood.’
‘The traitor!’
Harriet smiled. ‘No, he was being sensible.’
‘Why didn’t he say goodbye to me? Did you forbid him to?’
‘No, that was his decision. No doubt he will write frequently to his father and Mr Kendall will give us all his news.’
Beth’s thoughts suddenly took a sharp turn. ‘But where did the money come from? After what you said…’
‘Beth…’
‘Uncle James! The Duke of Belfont is rich enough to buy people.’ She laughed harshly, a sound that made her mother wince. ‘It was all so unnecessary. I did not need separating from Toby. There was nothing untoward going on, or likely to. I have known him since I was a tiny child and he is like a brother to me. Did you not understand that?’
Harriett sighed, knowing that she had been wrong to confide her unease to James. Her brother had done what he thought was best, but they had made a real mull of it between them. ‘I’m sorry, Beth, truly sorry, but you must realise—’
‘Oh, I realise, Mama. I realise I am to have no say in how I live my life at all.’ And with that she fled to her own room, where she flung herself down on her bed and sobbed.
If she could not make her mother understand, who could she talk to? There was only one other person and that was Toby. But Toby had gone, left her without a word. Why had he been so easily persuaded? Oh, she knew that he had always wanted to go plant hunting and the temptation to accept whatever it was he had been offered must have been very great and she could hardly blame him for it. But why go without explaining himself to her or even saying goodbye? That was what hurt most, the abruptness of it. Uncle James must have been very persuasive. Had he given Toby to understand she knew about the offer beforehand? Did Toby think she did not care?
If it had been done openly, she could have been part of the planning, the deciding what luggage and equipment to take, the boxes and barrels for keeping plants in, the beeswax and special paper to preserve the seeds and prevent them going mouldy in the dampness of the ship’s hold on the journey home. They would have talked about the ship he would sail on, the area he would explore, the kind of plants he hoped to find, the journal he would keep and the reports he would send regularly to her. And he would have told her exactly what to do to look after the plants he had left behind. She would have waved him goodbye with a cheerful heart if that had been the case.
How far had he got? He wouldn’t have sailed yet because it would be necessary to stop off in London and equip himself and book a berth on a ship—no doubt an East Indiaman, which regularly made the journey back and forth between England and India. Could she catch him before he sailed, just to speak to him, to tell him that, if he had been banished, she had had no prior knowledge of it, to ask for instructions and say goodbye? She imagined his face lighting up at the sight of her. He would take her hand and lead her on board to show her his quarters and the equipment he had brought with him, and when the ship sailed she would return to the quay and watch until the vessel was out of sight.
The more she thought about it, the more possible it seemed. All she had to do was find out the name of the ship, take the stage to London and hire a cab to take her to the docks and there he would be! She knew she could not go with him, but it would be some compensation to be there when he set out and reassure him that she did not condone what her mother and uncle had done. Her tears dried on her cheeks. She scrambled to her feet and hurried down to the drawing room, where she found the newspaper she had seen her uncle reading after dinner two nights before.
She sat down and quickly scanned it for the shipping news. And there it was. The Princess Charlotte had arrived at the East India docks with a cargo of tea, spices and ornamental objects, and was due to depart again as soon as it had taken export goods, passengers and stores on board. The East India Company prided itself on its fast turnaround. But supposing, when she got there, Toby wasn’t sailing on the Princess Charlotte? What then? It would be a wild goose chase and she would have to turn round and come home. But what an adventure!
She sat, staring at the newsprint until the words danced in front of her eyes. Princess Charlotte sailing on the afternoon of the following day—dare she go? What would her mother say? But it wasn’t as if she was running away or anything like that, she was simply going to see a friend off on a journey, and then she would be back, almost before she was missed. Ought she to take a companion? But who? Miss Andover would treat her like a naughty child and report her to her mother, and none of the servants would agree to go with her for fear of losing their place. It was go alone or not at all.
She
