Perry followed her gaze as she searched for something amongst the blooms. He gave her a puzzled look, as though trying to guess what she found lacking in the abundance surrounding them.
“It is all so lovely,” Charlotte continued. “I see no room for improvement.”
Perry seemed to recognize the mild disappointment flashing in her eyes before she masked it with a look of contentment. After all, it was strange to complain that a garden was too perfect; she wouldn’t dare touch any aspect of it and risk ruining the vision created by another. They had a capable group of gardeners, and as the new countess, wouldn’t want to make drastic changes that might upset the servants. Her parents had given her leave to experiment, and she gained much joy from making changes to the gardens at Fermoy. Here, there was no work to be done. The stunning interplay and balance of colors, varying heights, and textures was beyond perfection.
Yet, she longed for a garden that was entirely hers.
There was not even one bed she could see herself working on or changing, should the need overtake her. Perhaps she would spend her time weeding, though it was impossible to find a single stray shoot marring the beauty before her. The gardenersat Wildwood were extremely well managed. Besides, it was below her station to be toiling in the garden, dirtying her hands. A countess kept her hands pristine, protected by delicate layers of lace and silk. As a fallen woman, it hadn’t mattered. Now, perception was everything.
She turned back, continuing slowly on the pathway, perturbed at how she could be at once pleased and disappointed.
“May I show you something? It is a bit of an embarrassing secret. You mustn’t tell anyone.” He took her hand and led her down a gravel pathway where she hadn’t yet ventured, away from the splendid and showy section of the garden, past other resplendent and well-cared-for beds along a stone wall covered in a thick layer of ivy. Charlotte passed her hand through the ivy as they walked, attempting to take in the garden as Perry guided her through. Perhaps he knew what she was looking for, what section of the garden would most appeal to her. She followed blindly, trusting he would show her something special.
“Just around the corner, we are almost there. This secret is very well hidden. Humphries, our head gardener, will have my head if he discovers I have brought you here. I am convinced it is his greatest shame.”
Charlotte laughed at the idea of the gardener being upset with Perry.
This must be a very important secret he was revealing.
Perry walked up to a heavy wood garden gate, painted in a light gray to blend in with the surrounding stone. The wall went well over her head as she tilted her eyes up to see. The old gate was half covered in delicate pink roses that cascaded from the other side. Perry lifted the latch on the gate and pushed. Something on the other side resisted his invasion. He gave another solid shove, grunting as he used his shoulder against the aging gate, and finally, it relented. He pushed it open, flattening a patch of tall grasses and a poorly tended, worn pathway.
Grass grew boldly between the stones in the ground, smalleruptions of snowdrops or soft clumps of moss bursting erratically in between.
“What is this place?” Charlotte marveled as she gazed upon the wild garden, abandoned and left to grow untended for what seemed like many years. It was lush and unkempt, left in charge of its own destiny.
“It is the abandoned garden,” Perry explained. “Eliza’s family purchased this estate from an aging relative of the former earl. Eliza’s family had money and wasted no time in claiming it for their daughter. My first wife had no interest in gardening and had ceased allowing the gardeners to expend any energy or money on the place. Before she became ill, she preferred to spend our funds at the modiste or on attending lavish parties, especially since there was no one here to appreciate the garden. She maintained what she had to for status and a grand show of wealth. I respected her wishes to run the home as she wished. I am embarrassed to say I didn’t care. I was more preoccupied with estate business and investments. My work in the House of Lords.” He shrugged.
“Why did Eliza have the garden closed off?” Charlotte asked, overwhelmed by the stunning wildness that surrounded them. Birds chirped happily in the trees and bushes, well protected and safe.
“She found it too tragic. Almost…haunted. It came with a tale she found too dreary to discuss. Humphries told me Eliza took one look at it and ordered the gate locked and the garden to be forgotten.”
Charlotte’s brows drew together in bewilderment as she took in the wildly growing rose bushes, the moss-covered benches, and the large, empty central fountain, which would have been quite impressive had it been operational. Eliza was right in thinking it would cost dearly to restore a garden that had been abandoned for so long. The place standing before Charlotte was mysterious and ethereal, wild and bountiful. Certainly not a tragedy. It was a gift.
“I fail to see how a garden is tragic. It is made sad by being abandoned. It simply requires love.”
“Servants who have been on the estate for a long time explained that the old owner built this private courtyard for his beloved wife. She adored the place and spent much time here. Years after she passed away, he would come and sit here every day until he couldn’t anymore, physically. He always said it brought him closer to her, since they spent so much time together here.”
Charlotte blinked away tears at the sad tale. “How lovely. This was once a happy place.”
Perry signaled to a bench that was less mossy than the others and indicated to Charlotte to sit. The worn stone was smooth, with enough space for them both. She wiped the seat with her hand to remove any dirt or garden debris and lowered herself carefully, spreading out her delicate pink muslin. Perry joined her, resting his palm behind her on the seat.
“Can you imagine if we cleared those beautifully detailed benches in the corners, had the gardeners trim everything back and keep what is flourishing? Perhaps enhance the beds with more plants and flowers? You could work with the gardeners, Lottie. I believe Aurelia would enjoy working here with you.”
Charlotte admired the tangled and thick overgrowth. Nature had been forgotten here and perhaps it needed to be tamed. It was truly a disaster, barely safe to walk on the pathways without tripping. Yet, it held some promise. There were some stunning plants thriving and covering everything. Roses, ivy, and jasmine flourished their combined scents surrounding them. Large trees overhead provided shelter from the sun, their thick roots twining through the earth and seeming to race toward the river, an endless supply of water.
Charlotte closed her eyes, savoring the sound of the robins, the leaves trembling in the light breeze, and the rushing of the river close by. Tossing aside her bonnet, she let the rays of the sun floating through the branches warm herskin. A smile touched upon her face as she inhaled the fragrant air. She was entranced by the magic being woven by nature around her.
“It is truly wild,” she spoke in a soft voice. “It would be quite the undertaking.”
Perry reached to place his hand on top of hers, his gaze moving from admiring the nature around them to something else entirely. A jolt of desire shot through her at the intensity of his stare. He seemed to waiting for some sign of her approval. Wondering if such a gift could make her happy.
“Would you like to help me restore the garden, Charlotte? Bring it back to its former glory, or perhaps, make it better?” He quirked a brow in question, his smile reluctant.
She grinned and nodded enthusiastically, hopefully displaying the joy percolating within her at the prospect of a garden she could call her own.
Here.
In her home.
