The Last Garden in England

by Julia Kelly

  She pushed gently on him and reached around him to tug on the cord to ask the driver to stop. “We’re here.”

  “This is too early for Temple Fosse Farm, isn’t it? It’s two more stops.”

  “It is. We’re not going to the farm,” she said.

  Graeme followed her off the bus, looking around as he went. “This is Braembreidge Manor.”

  “It is,” she said, pulling him toward the drive of the grand country house.

  “You didn’t mention you’d spoken to Lord Walford.”

  “We’ve had tea a few times. He wants to see you straightaway,” she said.

  “Lord Walford can wait. I want to spend time with my wife,” he said, slipping his hands around her waist.

  She went up on her tiptoes to kiss him. “We can’t keep the earl waiting.”

  With a good-natured groan, Graeme offered her his arm.

  They crossed the gate she’d found so imposing on her first visit. If Highbury House was grand, Braembreidge Manor was palatial. Yet now that she’d been here a few times, she’d come to enjoy the sight of the old manor house. It was landscaped, not planted in gardens the way Highbury House was, and there was something charming about seeing children from the Coventry school spilling out of the doors whenever they were released from classes.

  When they were halfway down the drive, a man in shabby tweeds and a pair of gum boots appeared around a bend. Three spaniels trotted along next to him until they saw Beth and came running.

  “Good afternoon, my lord,” she called, using her free hand to pat the dogs each in turn.

  “Good afternoon! Captain Hastings, it is good to see you hale and hearty,” said the older man in a gruff but polished voice.

  “The pleasure’s mine, Lord Walford. I’m pleased to hear you’ve met my wife,” he said, placing a hand on the small of her back.

  “I’m angry with you, Hastings, that you’d kept such a delightful woman from me.”

  Beth smiled at the earl. “The earl has been tutoring me on the finer points of raising orchids.”

  “And Mrs. Hastings has been pretending to enjoy it because she’s a good sport,” said Lord Walford. Then he dug into the pocket of his waxed jacket and pulled out a brass key. “I’ll let my housekeeper know that we’ll have tea in about a half hour. If you need me, I’ll be in the stables.”

  “Thank you,” said Beth, clutching the key.

  As Lord Walford walked off, his dogs dancing around his feet, Graeme asked, “What is that?”

  Beth simply smiled. “This way.”

  A few yards away, the path they were on branched off the main drive. Beth led Graeme along until, through the trees, a cottage of good size came into view.

  “Here we are,” she said.

  “Here we are what?” he asked. “You have the better of me.”

  “Our home. If you want it,” she said.

  His brows popped up. “Our home?”

  “When I went to visit Lord Walford, he asked me where we planned to live. When I told him I didn’t know but that I wanted to stay in Highbury, he offered us this cottage. I haven’t accepted yet,” she said quickly. “I thought we could decide. Together.”

  She watched him stare at the beautiful yellow stone house with its thatched roof. A chimney bracketed either side, and she could almost smell the smoke that would curl out of them if this house were hers. A rose grew up and over the porch, and she wondered what color the flowers would be in June.

  “Are you angry?” she asked.

  “No.”

  “I know that you suggested living with your parents, but—”

  He brought one of her hands to his lips and kissed the back of it. “I’m not angry. Not at all. I am surprised.”

  “Would you like to go inside?” she asked.

  He nodded.

  She unlocked the door and stepped aside to let him walk into the entryway laid with multicolored tiles. Two doors banded with iron greeted them on either side, and ahead was a flight of stairs leading up to a set of bedrooms.

  “The earl told me that a few of the cottages were updated about ten years ago because his land manager refused to live at Braembreidge Manor unless he had hot water, central heating, and working bathrooms,” she said.

  He pressed a kiss to her hair. “Have you seen this house yet?”

  “No. Lord Walford wanted to have it cleaned first, and I thought it would be best to see it together.”

  She let herself through one of the doors and into a sizable sitting room. Light streamed in through leaded glass windows as she turned to take it in. Although there wasn’t a scrap of furniture in the place, she could see how the room might be laid out around the iron fireplace, topped with a wide mantel.

  “There’s a snug through there for the winter, and Lord Walford says the dining room and the kitchen are at the back of the house. There are three bedrooms upstairs and a smaller room for a study,” she said.

  She turned to find him leaning against the doorframe, watching her.

  “Or a nursery,” he said.

  She smiled. “Or a nursery.”

  “I want to see the rest of the house, but first, I should tell you something.” He rubbed a hand on the back of his neck. “I wrote to my mother asking if you could stay with my parents if you became pregnant before the war ended or if I was dispatched abroad after the war ends. She very bluntly pointed out that you were a new bride and you might not want to live with your mother-in-law in a strange home that you’ve never visited before. She also asked me if I had ever considered how lonely you might be in Colchester, where you know no one. She told me that I was being selfish.”

  “Your mother sounds like a woman of strong opinions,” said Beth as neutrally as she could.

  “She has a clear sense of what is right and wrong. In this case, I was in the wrong.”

  “I could also have told you all of that. In fact, I did,” she said.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t listen. I’m going to be apologizing for that for years, I’m sure,” he said sheepishly.

  “Not years. Maybe days,” she said.

  “I promise I will become better.”

  “All I want is for us to make decisions together.” She crossed the room and kissed his cheek. “You promise you’re not angry that I spoke to Lord Walford?”

  “How could I be angry at such a resourceful wife?”

  They walked from room to room, Beth exclaiming when she found little delightful details. Though modest, someone had put a remarkable amount of thought into its construction. By the time they had walked over each inch of it, including the cool, dry root cellar, she was charmed.

  “Could you see us living here? I know it’s not right in Highbury, but we can cycle in,” she said.

  “When the petrol ration is lifted, we could save for a car,” he said.

  “You’re so certain that the war will be over soon,” she said.

  “Things have been changing since D-Day.” He hesitated. “I was going to wait until tonight to tell you this, but I’ve requested that my position with the Pioneer Corps become permanent.”

  She sucked in a breath. “You’re not trying to return to your regiment anymore?”

  He shook his head. “I put in for a transfer to a posting in London, and my commanding officer seems to think I’ll be approved. I will still need to stay in digs, but I can come up whenever I have leave. It’s possible that the role might continue after the war.”

  “Are you certain?” she asked. “You were so set on returning to your men.”

  He smiled. “If this transfer goes through, it will mean starting our life together all the sooner.”

  She slid her hands down his arms so their fingers interlaced. “I want this house, and I want this life with you.”

  “Good. Shall we tell Lord Walford?” he asked.

  “Yes, but first…” She tilted her head back and kissed her husband in their future home.

  • VENETIA •

  SUNDAY, 3 NOVEM
BER 1907

  Highbury House

  Crisp and sunny

  I awoke this morning to the pale autumn sun streaming through the bedroom window. I had neglected to draw the curtains last night, and I could see the corner of one of the greenhouses and yellowing leaves of the ramble. All at once, I missed the smell of the freshness and the crisp, heavy morning air.

  Dressing quickly, I swept up my sketchbook and pencil. I knew the Melcourts would be at church, servants in tow. I would use the time to check my final drawings for the winter garden against the physical space. Then I would pack my things.

  Outside, the weak sun felt warm when I tilted my head back to sample it. A goldfinch chirped, and leaves whispered as they floated to the earth. Underground I knew that the hundreds of bulbs Mr. Hillock’s men and I had spent hours planting would be beginning their life cycle, emerging from dormancy before the first green stem burst out of the ground in defiance of the winter.

  I took my time, enjoying the solitude as I made my way through the sculpture garden with its slow-growing topiaries. I turned the corner to round the hedge between the water and poet’s gardens and walked straight to the winter garden’s gate. They key was in the lock, so I let myself in.

  I breathed deep.

  Starting on the right edge of the circular garden, I began a slow progression around the space, letting myself dream. Although meant to look its best at the bitterest time of the year, I wanted it to be beautiful in spring, summer, and autumn as well. Mr. Hillock and I had agreed on a climbing rose that would spread over the wall, a tribute to Matthew. Echinops’ silver spikes of leaves would rise up and show off their pale purple flowers in the summer, and by winter they would have died back to perfect pom-poms of seed heads swaying in the wind and scattering their bounty. I made a note with my pencil to ask Mr. Hillock to be sure to leave the seeds for the birds as long as he could.

  I don’t know how long I stayed. I was lost, absorbed by my task and compelled to finish. To be done with Highbury House so I could try to move on.

  My concentration was broken when I heard the squeak of the gate. I looked up from where I’d crouched to scribble a note. Matthew.

  He paused, his right hand resting on the iron gate, his eyes locked on me. “Venetia.”

  My name drifted to me on the autumn breeze.

  Hesitantly I rose. “Why are you here?”

  “I hoped to find you alone.” He took a step forward. “I needed to see you.”

  My hand flew up. “Stop! Please don’t come any closer.”

  He froze midstep, his expression agony. But so was mine. I could leave this place behind. The pain and loss may never completely leave me, but they would fade. But I could not do that if Matthew kept opening the wound.

  “But, Venetia—”

  “Whatever you’ve come to say, I don’t need it. I don’t want it.” My voice cracked, and I looked down at my shaking hands. “Why did you have to come now, when I’m finally ready to leave?”

  “I wanted to come earlier,” he said.

  “Then why didn’t you?” I hurled the words at him, aiming to wound.

  “Helen told me that you didn’t want to see me,” he said.

  “Your sister said that? And you believed her?”

  His shoulders sagged. “Why shouldn’t I? You didn’t return any of my letters.”

  “You wrote? The only correspondence I’ve received is Adam’s.”

  He shoved a hand through his hair and gripped the roots. “They kept us apart.”

  “And we believed them,” I murmured.

  “Why wouldn’t we? If we no longer have a child, you are freed of your obligations to me.”

  My obligations to him? I was the one who was being cast out.

  “Matthew, I appreciate that you were trying to do the noble thing when you asked for my hand.”

  He stared at me so long that I began to shift from foot to foot under his scrutiny.

  “You think I was doing the noble thing?” he finally asked.

  “With no child, there is no scandal. If you’re worried that I will hold you to your offer of marriage, don’t fear. I’ll absolve you of all responsibility.”

  “Then you don’t wish to marry me?” he asked.

  I turned away. “I have accepted that what I want and what I can have are two different things. I’m leaving Highbury House today. I cannot stay any longer knowing that our daughter died here.”

  He hinged at the waist, gasping out, “A daughter? We had a daughter?”

  “You didn’t know?” I asked.

  Tears shone in his eyes. “My sister said that it was impossible for the doctor to tell.”

  My free hand balled up into a tight fist. “Your sister lied. We had a girl. I thought to call her Celeste.”

  He dashed tears from his eyes. “It’s a beautiful name.”

  “It was what my father called my mother sometimes.”

  “Then I know what to name these.” He dipped his hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small brown paper envelope. He offered it to me. Hesitantly I took it and opened it. A half dozen seeds fell out into my hand.

  “What are they?” I asked.

  “Our rose. The one that we crossed in the spring. It took, and now we have these. A new breed, with any luck.”

  “But you don’t know for sure?”

  “I won’t until I can plant these and see what grows, but I’m fairly confident.” He cleared his throat. “I had been saving them for a wedding present. I had thought to name the new breed ‘Beautiful Venetia’, after you. Now I wonder how you might feel calling them ‘Beautiful Celeste’.”

  Tears welled up in my eyes, and I closed my hand around the seeds. “I think that’s a fine idea. We can ask Mr. Hillock to plant ‘Beautiful Celeste’ here.”

  I hugged my stomach as tears began to fall. I squeezed my eyes shut, but all at once I was no longer alone. Matthew’s arms came around me, one of his large hands cradling my head to his chest. My sketchbook and pencil fell to the soft earth as I clung to him and cried.

  “I’m so sorry,” he murmured into my hair.

  “I lost her and now I’ve lost you, and I don’t know if I can stand it any longer.”

  He pulled away a little, the pad of one of his thumbs wiping at my tears. “You never lost me.”

  I shook my head. “I became with child. Neither of us wanted—”

  “I wanted you, Venetia. That’s all I wanted at first, and then when I found out that we would have a child… That day by the lake was the happiest of my life. I thought that finally I would have all that I wanted.”

  “You didn’t think I’d trapped you?”

  He laughed, sharp and a little bitter. “Far from it. I feared that you felt trapped by me, and what’s worse, I was glad. I had you and I never wanted to let you go.”

  “What could you possibly want with me?”

  He jammed his hands onto his hips, shaking his head. “You are the most stubborn, infuriating woman. I love you.”

  “You hardly know me.”

  He sighed. “I know that you have a sharp, determined mind, and arguing with you is like trying to break through concrete with a toothpick. I know that when you smile deeply, there is a dimple next to your right eye that creases just so. I know that you’re more comfortable in your gardening clothes than in a gown, and that when you fall asleep you turn to your right side. But mostly I know that I want to learn something new about you every day. I understand if that is asking too much. I don’t have much to offer, but I can promise that I do love you, truly and deeply, and will more with each passing day.”

  “I don’t know if I’ll be able to have another child,” I said.

  “Then we will be happy with just each other.”

  “Your family won’t accept me.”

  He hugged me closer, wrapping the ends of his coat around us both. “You are my family. Will I be met with resistance from your brother?”

  I shook my head. “Adam will probab
ly thank you for being brave enough to marry me. Although you might wish to avoid telling him of our affair, in case he has developed an old-fashioned taste for dueling.”

  He smiled. “I’m a novice with dueling pistols, so I will take your advice.”

  I paused. “Between the Melcourts, the doctor, and the servants, too many people know about what happened here.”

  “We’ll move.”

  “Are you sure you can give up Wisteria Farm?” I asked.

  I could see the tightness at the corners of his mouth. I hated to think he would regret giving the property up, but I didn’t see how we could stay when the life we lived was so tied to the Melcourts’ goodwill.

  “The roses are not exactly easy to transport at the moment, but we will think of something. Where do you want to live?”

  I thought for a moment and then asked, “What do you think of America?”

  “So long as I’m with you, I don’t care where we are. Now, why don’t we see about your things? Much as I don’t want to let you out of my sight, you can’t stay at Wisteria Farm until we’re married. There is a respectable boardinghouse for women in Royal Leamington Spa.”

  “I’ll go there until the banns can be read,” I said, nodding at the practicality of his suggestion.

  “Good. There’s just one more thing.”

  When I looked up at him, he cupped my face and kissed me.

  “Say again you’ll be my wife?” he asked, his lips brushing against mine.

  “I’ll be your wife,” I murmured.

  He kissed me swiftly again and then scooped up my pencil and sketchbook. “Your drawings.”

  And, hand in hand, we left Celeste’s garden.

  • DIANA •

  Diana peeled off her gloves and lifted the little gray hat from her hair, careful not to catch the net in the wave at her temple. It had been a long journey back from London, where she’d ensured that all of the loose ends were tied up. But now it was done, and in the crocodile handbag she kept firmly on her arm, she had her future.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Dibble,” she said, handing her things off to the housekeeper but retaining her handbag. “Do you know where Miss Adderton is?”