“I’ve volunteered to oversee the archery contests.” Horace squared his shoulders. “Did that years ago for your father. Quite enjoyed it.”
Gyles nodded and looked at Henni.
“Your mother and I will be roaming the crowd, making sure all is as it should be.”
“There’ll be so many here”-Francesca glanced up at him-“you and I won’t be able to be everywhere.”
“True.” He stood by Francesca’s chair, his hand on its back, and listened to her plans. He’d heard then before and approved them all; he listened not to her words but the eagerness in her voice as she recited the day’s schedule.
“By tomorrow evening, all should be in readiness.”
Henni set down her cup. “A pity you’ll have to wait until the morning to put out the trestles and boards, but it was ever the same. A Festival at this time of year can’t expect to be other than damp.”
“With luck, the day’ll be fine.” Horace stood. “Usually was, as I recall.”
“Indeed. The whole estate will be praying for a fine day-I haven’t seen such excitement for years.” Lady Elizabeth rose and kissed Francesca’s cheek. “We’ll leave you to your preparations.”
Francesca and Henni rose, too.
“Don’t forget-if you need any help, you have only to send a footman across the park.” Henni squeezed Francesca’s hand, then turned to the door leading outside just as a large shadow filled the doorway.
“Ahem!” Edwards shuffled, then raised a hand to the frame and lightly knocked.
Francesca recovered first. “Yes, Edwards?”
He gripped his cap between his hands. “I was wo
ndering if I might have a word, ma’am.”
“Yes?”
He drew breath, glanced at Gyles, then looked at Francesca. “It’s the plums, ma’am. They need to be harvested tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? But tomorrow’s the last day before the Festival.”
“Aye, well, trees and fruit and weather don’t allow for festivals, like. The season’s been late, and the fruit’s just ripe-we need to get it in as soon as we have a dry patch long enough so it won’t be damp.” He glanced at the sky. “It’s been clear for the last few days. By tomorrow, the fruit’ll be right to pick-we daren’t risk the crop by waiting till after the Festival.”
Francesca had learned that the plum crop and the jam it produced was almost as old a Castle tradition as the Festival.
“So you’ll need all the gardeners and stablelads?”
“Aye, and the footmen, too. Even then, it’ll take the whole day.”
Francesca frowned. They would never manage the preparations for the festival without all those hands.
Lady Elizabeth turned to her. “You can have the staff from the Dower House, if that would help.”
Francesca nodded, then refocused on Edwards. “What if all of us pick? How long would it take then?”
“All?”
“The entire staff-everyone in the house. And the staff from the Dower House. Every pair of hands. That’s more than double the number you need to do it in a day. If you have that many, how many hours will it take?”
Edwards cogitated. “A few…” He nodded. “Aye-three hours would do it if we had that many. We’ve plenty of ladders and such.”
Francesca almost sighed with relief. “Tomorrow afternoon. We’ll complete all the preparations for the Festival, then have a late luncheon-then we’ll all gather in the orchard and bring in the crop.”
“That’s an excellent idea.” Henni nodded approvingly.