Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

D aniel followed Miss Montrose to the edge of her garden, surveying the vibrant tapestry of colors and textures that spread out before him. It was overwhelming. He hadn't always appreciated the beauty of nature, but he had never seen a garden quite like this one either. The array of roses, peonies, and other flowers created a serene yet lively atmosphere that appeared to reflect its creator's spirit perfectly.

Miss Montrose was in her element here, moving gracefully among the plants as if she were a queen in her court. Her hands lightly brushed over petals and leaves, her touch tender and knowing. Daniel couldn't help but be fascinated by the sight.

"Captain Blackwood, shall we begin the tour?" Her voice was light and inviting, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm .

"Please, lead the way, Miss Montrose," he replied, his tone more reserved than he intended. He followed her deeper into the garden, trying to focus on the flowers and not the captivating woman who tended to them.

She stopped by a cluster of roses, their blooms a deep, velvety red. "These roses are some of my favorites. They require a lot of care, but their beauty is worth every effort. Their scent is richer than all the other roses in my garden."

Daniel nodded, impressed by her dedication. "They are indeed beautiful. It is clear you spend a great deal of time here."

She smiled, her eyes shining with passion. "Every morning, and often in the evenings as well. Each plant has its own needs and personality. It's a labor of love."

Daniel watched her as she spoke, noting the way her face lit up when she talked about her garden. It was as if the flowers were more than just plants to her—they were companions, each one with its own story.

"And over here," she continued, leading him to another bed of flowers, "These are my hydrangeas. I believe they are temperamental here because they do not like being placed so close to the daffodils. Daffodils need their own section. I am looking to remedy that next year."

Daniel focused on the delicate purple balls of petals. "You speak of them as if they were people."

Miss Montrose laughed, a melodious sound that made his heart skip a beat. "In a way, they are very much like people. Each one has its own quirks and needs. I suppose it's my way of feeling connected to them."

As they continued their tour, Eliza led Daniel to a bed of vibrant flowers, their petals forming intricate layers of color and texture.

"What are these called?" Daniel asked.

"These here are ranunculus," she said, gently touching a bloom. "They're one of my favorites. Their petals are so delicate and layered, almost like a work of art."

Daniel leaned in to get a closer look, admiring the intricate beauty of the flowers. "They are remarkable. I've never seen anything quite like them."

She smiled, seeming to be pleased by his interest. "They require a lot of care, but they reward you with such beauty. Much like people, I suppose."

Daniel eyed Eliza, giving her a soft smile. "You find a lot of parallels between your garden and life, don't you?"

She nodded, her gaze moving to the next bed. "I do. Gardens teach patience and resilience. They show that even after the harshest winter, there can be new growth."

"You talk as if it's easy to push past winter," he said, wondering if his winter would ever end.

She studied him closely, and he diverted his gaze, focusing on the ranunculus again. "It's nearly the middle of summer, Captain. Winter is as far away as it can be at this time."

"How lucky for these flowers that winter is so far from now," he said, though the thought that he would live in an eternal winter, regardless of the weather outside pressed in upon him, ice and cold filling him as memories resurfaced.

"Captain?" Miss Montrose's voice came to him through a haze of cold and terror. The harsh climate was the easiest to push through. "Captain?"

Daniel focused on the lovely face of the woman in front of him. He was pulled away from the terrors that lurked in his mind faster than he had before. What relief. He forced a smile wider than he felt. "Yes, Miss Montrose?"

A small line formed between Eliza's brows as she looked up at him, concern etched on her features. "Are you well, Captain?"

He wasn't well, but he couldn't tell her any of that. "I was only lost in thought for a moment." She looked as if she didn't believe his words, but he held out his arm to her. "Shall we continue with the tour? I shouldn't wish to keep you from your garden for much longer." And he needed to escape to the solace of his library, or perhaps he would go for a ride on his horse.

Miss Montrose took his arm lightly, her touch barely a whisper. She pointed out various plants and sharing anecdotes about each one. Daniel listened intently, finding himself increasingly captivated by her knowledge and enthusiasm. There was something incredibly alluring about the way she spoke, her love for her garden evident in every word.

As they reached the far end of the garden, Eliza paused by a small fountain, its gentle trickle adding a soothing backdrop to their conversation. "This fountain is my favorite spot," she said softly. "It's where I come to think and reflect."

Daniel looked at her, his eyes softening. "It's a beautiful place. I can see why you cherish it. But I'm beginning to think that every part of your garden is your favorite. You have yet to describe a flower that didn't have the preamble of being your favorite."

She laughed. "They are all my favorites for different reasons."

They walked a little further until they reached a cluster of peonies, their lush blooms swaying gently in the breeze. Her eyes lit up as she looked at them. "And these are my beloved peonies. They're so full and vibrant. I like to think of them as the heart of the garden."

Daniel touched a petal, feeling its softness, and staying present at this moment. "They are beautiful. And they seem to thrive under your care."

Miss Montrose blushed slightly, her fingers brushing over a bloom. "They do seem to respond well to a bit of attention and love. Just like people."

Daniel found himself smiling despite his usual reserve. "You have a unique perspective, Miss Montrose. I've never met anyone who could make a garden seem so ... alive."

She blushed slightly, her eyes meeting his for a brief moment before she looked away. "Thank you, Captain. It's just something I'm passionate about. It brings me peace."

Daniel's curiosity was piqued. He had noticed the serenity that seemed to emanate from her when she was among her plants, but there was a depth to her words that hinted at something more. "What is it that requires peace in your life, Miss Montrose? You seem to have such a tranquil existence here."

She hesitated, her eyes clouding with a distant pain. She took a deep breath, as if gathering the courage to share a part of herself she usually kept hidden. "It's not always been tranquil, Captain. When I was young, there was an accident—a carriage accident."

He listened intently, his own heart twinging with empathy. "An accident?"

She nodded, her gaze fixed on the fountain's gentle flow. "I was twelve. We were on our way to visit relatives when the horses were spooked. The carriage overturned. My parents ... they didn't survive."

Daniel felt a surge of sorrow for her. "I'm so sorry, Miss Montrose. That must have been incredibly difficult."

She swallowed hard, her voice trembling slightly. "It was. I was the only one who survived, with just a few scrapes and bruises. But the emotional scars were much deeper. I was sent to live with an aunt who was kind, but distant. I felt ... lost, for a long time."

Daniel could see the pain in her eyes, a pain he knew all too well. "And the garden? How did that come into your life?"

Miss Montrose smiled faintly, her expression softening. "My aunt had a garden. She wasn't particularly interested in it, but I found solace there. Tending to the plants, watching them grow—it gave me a sense of purpose. It helped me heal, bit by bit."

Daniel felt a connection to her story, a recognition of the struggle to find peace after trauma. "I understand what you mean. Finding something to care for, something that brings order and beauty to the chaos—it can be a lifeline." As a Captain, he'd focused his efforts on others in his company. His soldiers and their families were a priority to him. But now, they were no longer under his command, and now he was feeling tossed and ungrounded with that realization.

She looked up at him, her eyes searching his. "You've experienced something similar, haven't you?"

Daniel nodded, his voice quiet. "Yes. The war left its mark on me, in more ways than one. Sometimes it feels like the past will never let go. But being here, talking to you, it helps. It makes me feel ... less alone."

Miss Montrose reached out, her hand gently touching his arm, her expression thoughtful. "You're not alone, Captain. We all carry our scars, seen and unseen. And we all need healing. I like this bench and this garden. What about you, Captain?"

"I like it as well. "

"I meant, where do you go for a respite from your worries? Where do you find a measure of peace?"

Daniel hesitated, his usual defenses rising. But there was something about Eliza's genuine curiosity that made him want to open up, even if just a little. "I suppose I find peace in solitude. The sea has always been a place where I can clear my mind."

Miss Montrose nodded, her eyes understanding. "The sea is a powerful force. It can be both calming and fierce, much like life itself. It is one of the places I love as well."

Daniel felt a pang of admiration for her insight. "You have a way with words, Miss Montrose. I must admit, I didn't expect to find such wisdom in a garden."

She laughed again, the sound like music to his ears. "Plants have a lot to teach us if we're willing to listen."

Daniel looked around, taking in the vibrant life all around him. "I believe I'm beginning to understand that."

They stood there for a moment, the connection between them growing stronger with each passing second. Daniel found himself in awe of Miss Montrose—not just for her knowledge of plants, but for the depth of her character and the quiet strength she possessed.

As they walked back towards the house, Daniel couldn't shake the feeling that this garden, and the woman who nurtured it, had begun to plant something in his heart as well—a seed of hope and perhaps something more.

"Thank you for the tour, Miss Montrose," he said as they reached the opening in the hedge between their properties. "It was enlightening to learn all of your gardening secrets."

"Aren't secrets usually exchanged?"

His breath caught in his throat, a wariness creeping in. "I suppose they are."

"But what secrets shall you share with me, I wonder?" She tilted her head as if to study him more closely.

"I have nothing as useful as how to make a garden look like this," he said. "Your garden and your company have been a balm for me today."

She smiled, her eyes warm. "You're always welcome here, Captain. The garden is a place for friends."

Daniel felt a flicker of something he hadn't felt in a long time—anticipation and hope. "I look forward to returning, and to your help in my own garden."

She nodded. "I will come early tomorrow, Captain."

He didn't linger past her statement, though he longed to stay in her company. As he left, he couldn't help but think that perhaps, just perhaps, this garden and its passionate caretaker might be the key to healing the wounds he had carried for so long. It was almost a silly notion, but even with a moment of being pulled back into the past, he'd felt happier and lighter while he'd spent time with Miss Montrose. Her laugh was infectious. Her smiles were warm and inviting. She'd given him much to think about—the majority of which had nothing to do with flowers or the garden.