Page 50 of The Mistress of Ashmore Castle

‘We haven’t got as far as that yet,’ Giles said. ‘The scheme is still in embryo.’

Cowling stepped in. ‘Elthorne delivers milk daily to Lisson Grove and a bit of Paddington. And he’d like to expand his business.’

‘I’ve two sons, as you see, with me in the company,’ said Elthorne, ‘and the time will soon come when they’ll want to start families. We’ve got to expand if they’re to stay with me. Now, if we could start delivering milk into Marylebone, there’s a mass of houses there, and wealthy folk, too. There’s big money to be made. But we need good-quality milk. I’m getting my milk from two local farms, and between you and me, the quality is not what the carriage trade would pay for. But if you could provide me with fresh country milk every day, well, I reckon we could all do ourselves a bit of good.’

‘That’s what we’re hoping to do,’ Giles said.

‘We’re planning on a large scale,’ Richard said. ‘Eventually bringing in all the farmers in our valley.’

‘And how many gallons a day are you producing?’

Richard and Giles exchanged an awkward glance, and Cowling again took over. ‘Now, Elthorne, I explained to you that they’re just at the beginning. We’re simply trying to find out if such a trade is feasible.’

Elthorne said impatiently, ‘I can tell you if it’s feasible if you tell me what quantity of milk we’re talking about.’

Richard smiled ruefully. ‘It seems as if we can’t set up a business until after we’ve set it up. We can’t sell the milk until we’ve got milk to sell, but we can’t produce the milk if there’s no-one to sell to.’

Elthorne shook his head, but with a gleam of sympathy. ‘Aye, well, I’ve been at that end of things. When I was a lad I started with a handcart and one churn I had to fetch myself from the farm up at Grove End. I pushed that barrow round the streets, and when the churn was empty that was that. So I borrowed a bit from my uncle who had a butcher’s shop, and bought a pony and cart. But the farm couldn’t give me more than two churns – it’s gone now, the farm, all built over with houses – so I had to find another that could let me have two more. Then I had the milk and had to find the customers. So I understand. Aye, it’s an awkward thing, starting up. What’s your herd?’

Giles was about to say, ‘We haven’t got one yet,’ but Richard stopped him with a glance. ‘We’re going in for Shorthorns – twenty head to begin with. That should produce thirty to forty gallons a day by the end of the year, but it’ll be a gradual process. Quantities should double the following year when our other farms have got going, and further into the future – well, there’s no limit.’

‘But you’ve got it all still to set up, transport and everything; and nothing to sell me yet,’ Elthorne said thoughtfully. ‘And when you do have milk it’ll be coming through in dribs and drabs.’

‘Aye, you’re right. We’re just feeling our way forward,’ Cowling said. ‘But once that good rich milk is available in quantity, everyone’ll want it. Anyone who was helpful along the way would get first dibs.’

‘Well, I tell you what, gentlemen: I want to help you out, and help myself at the same time. With a guaranteed supply of, say, a hundred gallons a day, it’d be worth our while investing in more carts to expand our milk round. We could match future expansion to your future increased production, do it in step, so to speak. I’d like to get my boys delivering right through Mayfair.’

‘But until we have milk available in those quantities?’ Richard said.

‘We can take smaller amounts to begin with.’ He glanced at his sons who nodded agreement. ‘But it seems to me you’ve got a lot to do before you get even to that point.’

‘We have,’ said Cowling. ‘But it’s good to know you’re ready at this end. The other end,’ he looked at Richard and Giles, ‘is like to be the more difficult.’

When the Elthornes had gone, Richard turned to Cowling and said, ‘I notice you were saying “we” all through. Was that just a diplomatic plural?’

Cowling gave him a fatherly smile. ‘Ah, well, as you said to me, business is business, and I can’t help getting interested in new ideas, when they’re good ones. I’ll go along with you and hold your hand as far as that goes. But I won’t part with any brass at this point. I’d like to hear what you propose about collecting the milk and getting it to the station.’

‘Well,’ said Richard, with relish, ‘this is what I’m thinking so far.’

Giles listened, watching his brother’s face and marvelling at his enthusiasm. It was good that languid, sophisticated Richard had at last found something he could be interested in. Giles would never have expected it to be related to farming. For himself, he was still not mentally back in England. When he closed his eyes, it was the Valley of the Kings he saw, not Berkeley Square.

‘How was the ball?’ Nina asked. ‘Was it very splendid?’

She and Kitty were sitting on a bench in Berkeley Square gardens, with Trump lying at their feet, quivering with suppressed excitement. Nina had him on a leash, because he was passionate about chasing pigeons, of which there were multitudes in the gardens.

When she had called on Kitty, she had proposed going out somewhere, but Kitty looked tired, and further said she didn’t like to be seen in public now that her pregnancy was obvious. So a stroll in the gardens was suggested, and they had walked a little; but when an empty bench in a secluded spot presented itself, Kitty sat down.

Nina’s question seemed to rouse Kitty from absorbing thoughts. ‘Oh – yes, very,’ she said. ‘Everybody important was there – or so my mother-in-law tells me. The King called in, and there were lots of the nobility and foreign royalty. Rachel looked very lovely and of course she danced every dance.’ She sighed a little. ‘She really enjoyed herself: she loves all the attention. I wish I could have felt like her when I came out.’ She glanced at Nina. ‘If you hadn’t been there to encourage me, I should never have got through it.’

‘You were braver than you gave yourself credit for,’ Nina said. ‘And look at you now! You’ve changed so much – don’t you think so?’

‘I’m not sure. Do we ever really change inside? I know how to face up to things now, that’s the difference. I do enjoy parties at home, when I know everyone – but I still feel frightened when I have to meet very high-up people.’

‘Dearest Kitty, you are high-up people!’ Nina laughed.

Kitty smiled unwillingly. ‘Well, I don’t feel it.’

‘You don’t see what I see,’ Nina said, waving a hand over her. ‘A very smart, fashionable lady, a society lady in a killing hat – a countess, no less. And a mother, too. Are you very thrilled to have another baby coming?’