Garden of May - Chapter 7
Chapter 7
“I’ll help you all I can, whether you’re running away or disappearing.”
“If that really happens, you two will be the first suspects,” Vanessa replied with a light, almost joking laugh. Even if, by some miracle, she managed a clean escape, Wyatt was the kind of man who would search for her relentlessly, even if it took a lifetime. Her uncle was generally incompetent, but his dangerous connections were very real.
All those vagrants, gamblers, shadowy errand boys, and gang members… She didn’t know what kind of people he’d consorted with during his exile from the family, but her uncle’s ‘business’ seemed to stretch into some dark corners. Though it doesn’t seem to be very profitable.
According to her uncle, he’d started with a mountain of debt owed to the family. He claimed it was so bad that even selling the entire estate, both the castle and the townhouse in the capital, wouldn’t cover it. Any land holdings that could have generated income had long since been seized by the bank, and the family heirlooms had been sold off and squandered.
Now, the only ‘commodity’ left for the Somerset to sell was Vanessa herself. Around the time the gossipmongers started whispering about Lady Somerset’s beauty, her uncle’s focus had narrowed to a single point: selling his only remaining asset at a high price.
“There are plenty of people in the world eager to acquire a noble title, even if it’s just in name. As long as my value in the marriage market doesn’t plummet, Uncle won’t give up.”
“Still, you need to give yourself some breathing room. Don’t let him push you into another rash, ill-conceived scheme if you feel cornered.”
“Like that runaway incident when you were fourteen.” Blair chimed in with a smirk. Mortified, Vanessa felt her cheeks flush.
“That was ages ago… And it wasn’t even running away. I just went to visit my parents at the Melvin Cemetery on the anniversary of their death.”
“Whatever you want to call it, you were missing for three days and then the police brought you home.”
“Well, yes, but…”
“She gets strangely brave sometimes.” Rosaline shifted uncomfortably on the stiff chair, trying to find a less agonizing position. Honestly, if it weren’t for her concern for Vanessa, she wouldn’t stay in this dreadful place for a single day.
Even among the declining aristocracy, the Somerset were in a league of their own. Most of the furniture in the castle was damaged, and every single landscape painting in the hallway was a forgery.
All that remained was the clinging, desperate attempt to live off the scraps of the family’s faded glory. And this artful neglect… no respectable aristocratic family would treat their relatives or guests this way.
“It’s hot. Open the window wider.” At Rosaline’s languid request, Vanessa threw the half-open window wide. A rush of air billowed the white curtains inward. The air was still cool, but the sun was as strong as midsummer. Vanessa pulled a chair over and leaned against the windowsill, languid as a cat.
The twins’ attention had shifted to their dissertations, society gossip, and frivolous banter. Vanessa let their conversation wash over her as she gazed out at the garden below.
The drawing-room window was one of her favorite spots in Gloucester Castle. From here, she could look down upon her mother’s rose garden. It had been neglected for so long that it was difficult to see its former glory, but a quiet beauty remained.
The overgrown poplars and heather bushes, the shed where the gardening tools were kept, the wild roses that would soon bloom in profusion, and…
It was then that she heard a rustle beneath the window. Vanessa straightened, lifting her head from the sill. The rose garden was usually deserted. Had Mr. Ross, the gardener, returned already? He’d said he was going to Bath station to pick up his nephew, who was going to help him during the holidays.
Perhaps some clueless worker had trespassed into her late mother’s garden. She was wondering what to do when a strange man emerged from the bushes. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows as if he’d been working, and his raven-black hair was tousled. The lush foliage cast a shadow across half his face.
Who is that? Vanessa held her breath, watching him. In the shade of the trees, the man looked like a predator lying in wait. She had the distinct impression he was trying to avoid being seen.
