Emma nodded. Like the woodland she’d just driven through with Gash, the lush green lawn could not have existed without protection from the scouring wind. East and west, the lawn had been enclosed by ten-foot walls that extended from the hall to the castle. A dozen pleached apple trees hugged the warm gray stones, basking in the sunlight.
“End of history lesson,” said the duke, “and on to botany.” Flashing an engaging grin, he took Emma by the elbow and guided her at a brisk pace down the terrace steps and across the lawn toward the arched entryway of the ruined castle. “I hope you won’t mind if we bypass Bantry’s garden rooms and head straight for the chapel garden. I’m rather eager for you to see it.” He held up his hand. “Not that you’ll be rushed. You must take all the time you need.” The duke smiled so warmly that Emma half expected him to hug her. “Thank heavens Aunt Dimity heard my prayers and sent the Pyms to find you.”
Emma was on the verge of protesting that she’d never met the duke’s aunt, but they’d passed under the arch and into the cool shadows of the castle’s interior, a bewitching collection of fragmented walls and roofless arcades, gaping doorways and stairways leading to open sky.
Glancing through an opening on her left, Emma saw the first of Bantry’s garden rooms, a grassy courtyard surrounded by a deep perennial border. Madonna lilies, delphiniums, and bellflowers beckoned and Emma turned toward them, but stopped when the duke held up a cautioning hand, pointing to a cluster of white wicker lawn furniture at the far end of the courtyard.
“Afternoon, Hallard,” called the duke.
Hallard, the bespectacled footman who’d taken charge of Emma’s luggage, was seated on a cushioned armchair, tapping steadily at the keys of a laptop computer. At the duke’s salutation, he slowly raised his head, blinking at them from behind his thick glasses. “Hmmm?” he murmured. “Your Grace requires my assistance?”
“Not at all, old man,” the duke replied cheerfully. “Just passing through. Carry on.”
“Very good, Your Grace.” Hallard nodded vaguely, then focused once more on the computer screen. The sound of tapping keys resumed.
“What’s he working on?” Emma ventured.
“Chapter six, one hopes, but it wouldn’t do to ask. Come along, Emma, right this way.”
Chapter six? thought Emma, but before she could frame an appropriate question, the duke had swept her into a grassy corridor that seemed to pass through the center of the ruins. On either side of the corridor a series of gaping doorways revealed ancient, roofless chambers that had been transformed into flourishing gardens, but the duke passed them by without comment, hustling Emma down the grassy corridor until they came to what must have once been the banquet hall.
It was now a vegetable garden. Rows of cabbages, carrots, and turnips were interplanted with marigolds, poppies, and nasturtiums, and staked tomato vines grew along the walls. The layout reminded Emma of her garden at home, with one extremely large exception.
At the center of the hall, rising high above the walls, was a domed treillage arbor, a soaring, oversized birdcage of fanciful wrought iron covered over by a healthy crop of runner beans. It was the most extravagant trellis Emma had ever seen.
The duke chuckled at the expression on her face. “Grandmother gave parties here in the old days,” he told her. “Long-necked ladies in beaded dresses, gents in white tie and tails, a gramophone playing in the moonlight. Bantry made it into a kitchen garden, and very useful it is, too.”
“It’s impressive,” Emma agreed.
“Bantry’s magical with plants. Veggies and flowers will sit up and sing for him, but he lacks ... imagination. That’s why he hasn’t tackled the chapel garden. Can’t find Grandmother’s planting records, and without them he’s lost.” Humming a few bars of “Anything Goes,” the duke strolled along a graveled path past the birdcage arbor to the opposite side of the banquet hall. As he lengthened his stride, Emma was forced to scurry to keep up.
It was a frustrating chase. Emma caught tantalizing flashes of pink and blue and yellow and red, glimpses of clematis clambering up walls and violets peeping from the shadows, but the duke gave her no chance to savor anything. She was working up the courage to call a halt when they came to the southernmost reach of the castle, the part nearest the sea.