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The clouds had lifted yesterday, and today the sky was bright and the air unseasonably warm. Taking advantage, she’d had all the windows opened to allow fresh air into the house. The sound of René busy at the pianoforte drifted out to Diana’s ears and mingled with the birdsong as she walked in her garden.
It was delightful to have a real garden again. Back when she’d lived with her aunt, she’d taken care of their tiny slice of earth. It had been her private retreat, a place of peace in a household full of simmering resentment and bitter disappointments. Her uncle’s glower had never settled on her, and his voice had never barked at her from behind when she was outside in the sunshine. He disliked the outdoors, preferring to hole up in his library with his pipe and his ledgers. Her aunt had occasionally come out, but such visits had been rare. Usually, they’d only happened when she wanted to discuss something out of her husband’s hearing.
This garden was much larger, and its previous owner had cared well for it. The roses were properly pruned, the flower beds free of weeds, and the hedges trimmed with precision. Harrow had hired a new gardener, but the fellow wouldn’t arrive to take up his position for another week. Until then, Diana surreptitiously pulled every weed she spied.
No sense in allowing them to gain a foothold.
As she meandered along the path to the rear, she marked the climbing vines on the brick wall that separated her space from that belonging to Lord Blackthorn. They’d gotten completely out of control and were hanging over its top. Examining them, she noticed fat buds protruding from the stems. Curiosity compelled her to pluck one and pry it open to see what color its petals would be. Pulling aside the thick curtain of leaves, she sought one that wouldn’t be missed—and found the wall behind had changed from stone to wood. A frown pulled at her mouth as she widened the opening and discovered a latch and handle.
Had she not ventured a peek behind these vines, she might never have even known a gate was here. Tugging the foliage away, she examined the opening. It was small, just tall enough to let someone her height pass through without ducking.
The ladies who once graced these abutting gardens must have been good friends indeed to have installed such a passage. Rusted hinges that looked as if they hadn’t moved in many years held the door in place. Bracing a hand against the wood, she pushed a little to see if it was still solid.
A commotion and a muffled curse sounded from behind the door, and Diana let out a surprised yelp.
“Hello?” said a voice on the other side. “I say, who’s there?”
She cringed. Damned if it wasn’t Blackthorn himself! “Hello? I’m so sorry to have startled you.”
Silence held for a beat. “Lady Diana?”
Had she not exerted iron control, a laugh would’ve burst from her throat at how his voice had risen an octave.
“Whatever in heaven’s name are you doing over there?” he asked. “Scaling the wall?”
Her face heated. “No,” she retorted, indignant. “I was examining the vines and discovered a gate.” Too late, she bit her tongue.
“A gate?”
“Yes,” she replied resignedly. “There is a gate beneath the vines on this side.” Clenching her teeth, she waited, and sure enough, a moment later there was a scraping sound as vines were swept aside on the other side of the door. Then, to her surprise, the door shook, followed by a loud bang and the screech of protesting hinges as it swung out, causing her to take a step back.
There in the opening, partially obscured by hanging greenery, was Lord Blackthorn. He stuck an arm out to clear the way between them and beamed at her. “I thought some animal was scurrying about over here, perhaps a cat trying to reach the top of the wall. How delighted I am to find you instead.”
I’m sure you are. “I did not know anyone was over there, or I would have announced myself,” she said, feeling more than a little awkward.
“No need to worry,” he said, brushing it off with a negligent wave, which resulted in one of the vines escaping to slap him across the face.
This time, a laugh burst free before she could stifle it.
Sputtering, he shoved the offending foliage away and looked up at her, mischief dancing in his gray eyes. “It seems Mother Nature has it in for me. First the rain this morning spoiled my walk, and now the plants attack me.”
“To be fair, we attacked them first.”
“I shall have to retaliate,” he muttered, eyeing them with feigned hostility. “At the least, they must be trimmed back so this gate can be repaired.”
Alarm spiked through her. Repaired? “Why not leave them as they are? It’s not as if this gate will ever be used again. I’m sure the blooms will be very beautiful once the buds open. It would be a shame to see them destroyed.”
“Ah, but these vines grow all along this
wall. A trimming here won’t hurt them.” He patted the wood fondly. “I’ll have this put good as new straightaway.”
Why? her mind shrieked. “For what purpose?” she asked innocently.
“Why, so we can be neighborly, of course. The people who built this between our houses must have been fast friends. I see no reason not to carry on their tradition.”
Oh, no, you don’t! “I doubt that would be considered proper, my lord.”
A wide grin split his face. “Oh, come now, Lady Diana. People like us are little concerned with propriety.”
