some wrong choices. However, Cornelia would undoubtedly be well provided for by Nicolaas, and there was no question that a comely widow with a large fortune might well be targeted by a scheming seducer.
âI want someone to love her as I have loved her,â Nicolaas said simply. âTo make her happy again.â
It would be easy enough for anyone to love her, Frederik mused as he sat downstairs by the window in their sitting room, waiting whilst Cornelia prepared food and Nicolaas took a rest. Presently he got up and went into the kitchen to find her, but she wasnât alone. The maid and an older woman who was scrubbing potatoes in the sink were also there.
He thought of an excuse for his intrusion and asked, âDo you mind if I walk in your garden?â
âOf course not.â Cornelia looked up and smiled, but her smile was wistful, he thought, and the sadness was back in her eyes. âAnd whilst youâre there, will you pick me some herbs? Chives, mint, oregano, rosemary.â
âI will, if I recognize them,â he said wryly.
âChives look like thick-stemmed grass. Youâll know the mint and rosemary by the scent, and possibly the oregano too, for it has a distinctive smell, and like rosemary it has excellent healing properties.â She lowered her eyes. âSo they say.â
âAnd what else is rosemary for? It sounds familiar.â
âFor remembrance,â she said softly. âIn
Hamlet
. Ophelia says, âThereâs rosemary, thatâs for remembranceâ.â She sighed. âIt is believed to have medicinal qualities too.â
He couldnât find any words, none that would comfort her anyway, and stepped out into the paved and gravelled garden, which had a dyke at the bottom of it.
The area was small but full of flowers and shrubs. Growing out of cracks in the paving were plants which smelled sweet and aromatic as he crushed them beneath his feet. He bent to draw in the fragrance of a white rose, its petals pure and unblemished perfection. He strode the few yards to the edge of the swiftly running water and gave a small smile as he remembered the dyke at the foot of their own garden when he was a boy. He wondered if the Jansen children played in the water as he once did. Nicolaas had told him that they both attended local schools and didnât have tutors or a governess, like Margriet.
That was the answer, he thought suddenly. Margriet must go to school! To a local school, not a boarding school, so that she could come home every afternoon. There must be many private dame schools in Hull, and she would be with other children and not alone as she was now. Why hadnât he thought of it before? He would discuss it with Cornelia to gauge her opinion, and then he would put it to Rosamund, although he feared she would raise objections.
He found the herbs that Cornelia had asked for growing together in a sunny corner, and behind them a tall clump of white marguerites which made him smile and think of his daughter again. It was a pity they didnât have a garden in Hull, he pondered, but only a yard where the servants emptied the slops and hung their dusters. He vaguely considered the possibility of moving somewhere with a garden, but he loved the house they were in and it was in a convenient position both for his business and for Rosamundâs shopping and social activities. Perhaps at some time in the future, when he was finished with business and had more leisure time on his hands, he might think of it again.
He wondered if Cornelia would stay in this house alone, but then berated himself for being morbid, even though Nicolaasâs life was hanging by a thread.
Frederik helped his friend downstairs for an early supper. Nicolaasâs bony frame was light and angular and he winced at every step, which he took one at a time. âWell done,â Frederik murmured as they reached the bottom.
â
Ja
,â Nicolaas muttered
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