‘What d’you mean, they tell you it is scented? Can’t you smell them?’ Buckingham asked.

‘I have no nose for smell,’ John admitted. ‘It is a great disadvantage for a gardener. My son tells me when the earth smells sour or when we have some putrid rot. Without him I have to go by my eyes and touch.’

Buckingham stopped and looked at his gardener. ‘What a tragedy,’ he said simply. ‘One of the greatest pleasures for me is the scent of flowers, what a tragedy that you cannot sense this! Oh! And so many other things! Good cheeses, and wine, and smell of a clean stable of straw! Oh! and perfume when it is warm on a woman’s skin, or the smell of her sweat when she’s hot! And tobacco smoke! Oh, John! What a loss!’

John smiled a little at his enthusiasm. ‘Having never known it I do not feel the lack,’ he said. ‘But I should like to smell a rose.’

Buckingham shook his head. ‘I should like you to smell a rose, John. I feel for you.’

They walked on a few steps more. ‘Now,’ Buckingham said. ‘What would you do here?’

The ground below them fell away to the marshy dip at the bottom of the field. As they watched, a herd of cows trudged through the mud and water, churning it up.

‘Get rid of the cows,’ John said definitely.

Buckingham laughed. ‘I could have thought of that on my own! Do I need to hire you to tell me to mend the fences?’

‘First get rid of the cows,’ John amended. ‘And then perhaps use that water to make a lake? Perhaps a water-lily lake? And at one side you would have a wet garden with plants that love moisture. Some reeds and rushes, irises and buttercups. And on the other a large fountain. At Hatfield we had a grand statue mounted on a boulder. That was handsome. Or perhaps some playful water feature? A fountain which throws an arc of water for boats to sail underneath? Or an arc of water thrown over the path? Or even from one side of the lake to another with a bridge passing beneath it.’

Buckingham gleamed. ‘And one of those toys which sprinkle people when they approach!’ he exclaimed. ‘And I should like a little mount as well, perhaps in the middle of the lake!’