Flower Of Hope – Episode 32
Flower Of Hope
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ONE week later, Caroline, accompanied by her father, Fabio and Albert, came to the ornate gates of Kellard’s acquired home. Albert carried a wrapped gift inside his coat. Rufus, sensing he was home at last, pulled at his lead.
To Caroline’s surprise, the gates swung soundlessly on great metal hinges and Kellard’s manservant appeared.
“You are expected,” he said formally, and led the way.
William needed Caroline’s arm as they toiled up the increasingly steep rise.
“The house is beautiful, yet perhaps not as imposing as I thought on my first visit,” William said, breathless after the climb. “It is the gardens that will impress. Carrie, my dear, I must sit down. Go with Albert. See these gardens for yourself.”
Caroline found a seat for her father as Harvey Kellard appeared. While Fabio took Rufus, Caroline and Albert were shown through an outer door.
She had never set eyes on a vista quite like this, the misty horizon showing mysteriously between a long avenue of dark trees. She also heard a busy flow of hidden water.
“Goodness!” she gasped out.
“I am particularly proud of my cascade,” Kellard said.
In this Italian city where so many English lived, he had gained for himself, through this house and these gardens, a status impossible in London.
“I’m certain you will approve,” he added.
Caroline began the walk to a lower path. Halfway, she remembered her manners.
“I appreciate your generosity, sir,” she said.
“Mind yer step, miss.” Albert’s warning was timely.
“A marvel, Albert, is it not?” she asked, as they turned a corner.
Already, she’d spotted unknown, glorious flowers that cried out to be painted.
“Indeed,” the old soldier said dryly.
“You do not like this place?”
“Can’t scarcely breathe, miss, that’s for sure.”
Albert’s discomfort made Caroline pause and look. There were plants crowded in tiers along the borders of every path, like an overdressed audience at a fashionable play. How had Kellard come by so many?
What was his purpose in arranging them so showily?
“You may speak your mind, Albert,” Caroline said. “I confess I am still making mine up! The garden seems full.”
“Like the toy cupboards of a spoilt child,” Albert said gruffly.
Caroline frowned. It was true! She had been beguiled, as her father had been, by the sight of so many new specimens.
It was Albert, of all people, who had seen the whole for what it was.
“This garden makes no allowances, either for change or growth,” Caroline said in a low voice as realisation dawned. “It can never become anything but what it already is!”
“There you have it, miss,” Albert said. “Ours at Lyon Place may not be so grand, but I believe ’tis more truly a living thing.”
