Parliament was dissolved and a new parliament came in, led by a new Council of State, in May. Amongst the new council was John Lambert and he gave his vote to the retirement, with pay, of Richard Cromwell, back pay to the army, the cleansing of schools and universities of ungodly ministers, and the toleration for all religions except for Catholics and those who would bring the bishops back to England. The rule of the Cromwell family was over, England was a true republic again.

‘He’s asked me to take care of his tulips this autumn,’ John remarked to Hester as they worked companionably side by side in the Ark’s rose garden. ‘He thinks he will be in Whitehall all this year. It’ll be odd to work at Wimbledon again.’

‘You’ll never be his gardener,’ Hester said, astonished.

‘No, he has his own gardeners. But I said I would lift the tulip bulbs in the autumn. He wants me to choose the colours for the orange garden, and he trusts me with his dark Violetten tulips.’

Hester smiled. ‘Not going into service again then, John?’

‘Never again,’ he said. ‘Not even for him. I swore I would never serve another master and then the order came from the king for my father and me, and we couldn’t disobey. Anyone else I would have refused.’

‘What if Lambert were to become king?’ she asked. ‘He’s the best-loved man in the country. There are many saying that he could be trusted to rule with a parliament. And the army follow no-one but him.’

‘I’d like to see a gardener on the throne,’ John mused. ‘Think of what the palace gardens could be.’

Hester snorted with laughter. ‘And that’s the main consideration?’

John grinned reluctantly. ‘The most important, certainly.’

They heard Frances call from the house and they looked towards the terrace. She was standing with a gentleman at her side. She beckoned to John.

‘Who’s that?’ Hester asked uneasily. ‘I don’t recognise him.’

‘Perhaps someone with something for sale,’ John said, stepping carefully round the rose bushes, and picking up his basket filled with the sweetly scented pastel petals. He walked to the terrace and gave the basket to Frances.

‘This gentleman says he has private business to discuss with you,’ she said briefly.

John absorbed, as a father can do, that his daughter was deeply offended and determined not to show it.

‘The gentleman declined to give his name to me,’ Frances said in the same clipped tones. ‘I’ll take these to the stable yard, shall I?’

John smiled pacifically at her. ‘If you wouldn’t mind,’ he said.

‘The gentleman asked me to fetch him a glass of wine,’ Frances continued stonily. ‘Can I fetch anything for you, Father?’

‘No indeed,’ John said. ‘But please ask Cook to serve the gentleman. You are far too busy, Frances.’