The Heart of the Garden by Victoria Connelly

Table of Content

• 1. Unnamed
• 2. ALSO BY VICTORIA CONNELLY Love in an English Garden The Rose Girls The Book Lovers Rules for a Successful Book Club The Secret of You A Summer to Remember Wish You Were Here The Runaway Actress A Weekend with Mr Darcy The Perfect Hero Mr Darcy Forever Molly’s Millions Flights of Angels Irresistible You Three Graces
• 3. Unnamed
• 4. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Text copyright © 2018 by Victoria Connelly All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher. Published by Lake Union Publishing, Seattle www.apub.com Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Lake Union Publishing are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates. ISBN-13: 9781612187044 ISBN-10: 1612187048 Cover design by @blacksheep-uk.com
• 5. To my dear friend, Brent, with love.
• 6. CONTENTS Start Reading Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 ACKNOWLEDGMENTS ABOUT THE AUTHOR
• 7. ‘The past is not dead, it is living in us, and will be alive in the future which we are now helping to make.’ —William Morris
• 8. Prologue She liked to walk around the maze alone – once the housekeeper and the gardener had left for the day. That was when Morton Hall became hers again and she would walk through the panelled corridors, her feet soft and silent on the patterned rugs, passing the rich tapestries depicting Arthurian legends and doomed lovers, and the enormous paintings in jewel-bright colours. It was her great-great-grandfather who had built Morton Hall in the 1860s with proceeds made from the Industrial Revolution. She’d never thought of it as a particularly attractive house; she’d never been a fan of the Victorian Gothic style. Its interiors were too dark for her liking and, many a time, she’d joked that she was going to whitewash the whole place with a nice cheap emulsion. She wouldn’t, of course, because she knew that she was living in a little piece of history and that it wasn’t hers to change. She was merely a custodian who was passing through, so she endured the dark corners and the oppressivel
• 9. Chapter 1 There were five bedrooms, a dining room, a sitting room and a study at Garrard House, but Anne Marie didn’t feel comfortable in any of them. The house – modern faux Georgian with large, symmetrical windows and high-ceilinged rooms – was owned by her husband, Grant Keely, and, no matter how hard she tried, she knew it would never feel like home. There was just one place she’d managed to carve out for herself in their four years of marriage: the tiny bedroom at the far end of the landing. It was the room nobody else wanted and was used for all the bits and bobs of family life like unused exercise equipment, an empty fish tank, a broken record player from the 1980s and bin bags full of old clothes that nobody hated enough to part with. But, in this room, Anne Marie had set up a little workstation – somewhere she could edit in peace and quiet. She was just about to finish making notes on a chapter from a novel by a favourite client of hers when the alarm on her mobile sounded and
• 10. Chapter 2 Cape Colman had been working in the grounds of Morton Hall for five years, but had never met the owner. He’d never even seen the elusive Emilia Morton. Well, he’d caught little glimpses of her at an upstairs window in the west turret, but not enough to know what she really looked like. Every order he was given came through the housekeeper. Mrs Beatty was a stern woman in her sixties with a big bosom and eyebrows which hovered menacingly over her black-rimmed spectacles. She also handed him his wages at the end of each month. His job was simple: to keep the maze, hedges, topiary, and the borders around them, the house and the driveway, in tip-top form. No other part of the garden was to be touched. The old Victorian kitchen garden, with its long greenhouse and glorious old espaliered fruit trees, the rose garden full of fabulous old varieties, the fountain and the statues: all were left to rot, crumble and run riot. Never visited, never loved. It was a crying shame, but who wa
• 11. Chapter 3 Cape usually tried to avoid Henley-on-Thames if he could. Not only was the traffic always bad, but the shops were neither to his taste nor to his budget. But he’d received a letter from Mander and Murray Solicitors and it had seemed important. It was something to do with the estate of Emilia Morton. He’d tried to question Mrs Beatty about it as she’d left the house one day, but she’d simply shaken her head. ‘It’s not for me to talk about,’ she’d told him. The whole business was totally baffling. He parked his car over the river and walked across the bridge, marvelling at the beauty of the Thames, which was an astonishing blue on this January day, flanked by impressive boathouses and the distinctive tower of St Mary’s church dominating the skyline. It was as he reached the other side of the bridge that he noticed the woman in a winter coat and black boots. She’d been looking out across the river and had just turned to continue on her way as he’d approached, but he was pretty s
• 12. Chapter 4 Emilia Morton always knew that there was something not quite right about her brother, Tobias. Ever since he was a young boy, he’d been unpredictable, petulant and prone to mood swings, but Emilia had never given it much thought until the summer she finished university and came back home to Morton Hall. It was 1983, but it might as well have been 1883 at the old Victorian house. Her record player and beloved LPs were hidden away in an oak cabinet and there were no posters of her favourite pop stars in her bedroom – the William Morris wallpaper simply wouldn’t allow it. ‘You have to respect this house,’ her father had once told her. ‘Just imagine you’re living in a museum. Try not to touch anything you don’t need to.’ Emilia had been a nervous wreck as a child, and her bedroom, as beautiful as it was, had always felt like somebody else’s with its heavy oak furniture, intimidatingly large paintings and the ornate silver mirror she was too scared to look into. There was no room f
• 13. Chapter 5 While Cape’s partner Renee had never been interested in his career, their daughter Poppy was always fascinated by the plans he drew up for the gardens he was working on and would gaze at them with eyes full of wonder. She was standing there now in his study, her hands on her hips as she surveyed his latest piece. ‘What’s that bit?’ she asked, pointing to a group of three circles. ‘They’re hydrangeas,’ he said. ‘You remember what a hydrangea is, don’t you?’ ‘Of course. They’re the big flowers with big leaves.’ ‘That’s right.’ ‘Why have you painted them purple?’ ‘Because that’s the colour the client has chosen.’ Poppy wrinkled her nose. ‘I like pink ones.’ ‘I know you do.’ ‘You should give her pink ones.’ Cape smiled. ‘Ah, but you have to listen to what your client wants. You can’t plant what you want in somebody else’s garden. You can advise them if you think they’re making the wrong decision, but the choice is theirs.’ Poppy seemed to consider this for a moment. ‘I think she’
• 14. Chapter 6 ‘I like your name,’ Emilia told Jay Alexander. They were walking in the topiary garden, leaving Tobias to deal with a private phone call inside the house. ‘I like yours,’ Jay told Emilia. ‘It’s wonderfully old-fashioned.’ ‘Yes, our parents always liked old things. Their parents too. Apparently, Mum wanted to call us Toby and Emily, but Dad insisted on Tobias and Emilia. We all seem to be stuck in some sort of time warp here.’ ‘So that explains the dress?’ Emilia could feel herself blushing. ‘It’s Victorian.’ ‘Yes, I can see that. Why are you wearing it?’ She took a deep breath. How on earth was she going to explain the dress to an outsider? Honestly, she decided. ‘Tobias likes me to,’ she confessed, instantly feeling as if she’d betrayed some trust between herself and her brother. Jay frowned. ‘That sounds a bit . . .’ ‘Weird?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘I know. It is,’ she said. ‘It’s really weird – I’ve been wearing the old dresses for a few days now and I’ve kind of grown to like them. But i
• 15. Chapter 7 Cape was the first to arrive at Morton Hall on Monday evening. He parked his car in the usual spot and walked to the front door which had been left open. Mrs Beatty was there to greet him and did so with a little nod of her head. ‘Good evening,’ he said, nodding back. She motioned to a room to the left of the hallway and Cape walked in to a great fire which was doing its best to keep the cold January night at bay. There were three large sofas and a coffee table in the middle which had been laid with cups, two teapots and a plate of biscuits. It was the first time Cape had been in this part of the house and he looked around the room now, studying the landscape paintings on the wall, the large ornate mantel clock which ticked quietly, and the fat blue-and-white china bowls on a fancy sideboard. It was all so different from his own farmer’s cottage with the simple pieces of furniture he’d inherited from his father, and he suddenly felt out of place. He was definitely more at hom
• 16. Chapter 8 Being painted was a new experience for Emilia and one that she didn’t altogether object to. It gave her time to think and that wasn’t always possible living with Tobias because he was always giving her things to do and was forever checking up on her. It was always, Emmy – did you do this? Or Emmy – did you do that? He treated her like a personal servant rather than a human being in her own right. Heavens, she’d only been home for a month and he was already driving her crazy. Thank goodness Jay Alexander had turned up when he had, she thought. He’d breezed into her life and made her feel alive again – and it was so good to have somebody to talk to. Really talk to. Tobias had always been the talker in their relationship and Emilia the listener. But Jay not only listened to her – he also asked her questions. He was genuinely interested in what she had to say and that was a very heady experience. Only, there wasn’t any talking while he was painting. He’d made that quite clear. He
• 17. Chapter 9 For the first time since Cape had started at Morton Hall, there was another gardener working alongside him. Not only that, but Mac had arrived that Saturday morning before Cape, his digger already positioned at the entrance to the walled garden. ‘You don’t hang around, do you?’ Cape said, waving a hand as he approached. He was pleased to see him there, but he couldn’t help feeling a little bit threatened by this other man’s presence. The garden had been his domain, his responsibility, and now he was expected to share it – not just with Mac but with a whole group of strangers. He definitely had mixed feelings about the whole thing but it was for the greater good, as he kept reminding himself, and he couldn’t help but be excited by the thought of restoring the garden to its former glory. ‘I thought I’d make an early start and pace the garden out,’ Mac said, removing his woolly cap and running a hand through his thick, dark hair. ‘Anyone else here yet?’ Cape asked. ‘Nope. You’re
• 18. Chapter 10 Anne Marie parked her car outside Garrard House, but didn’t go back inside for fear of Grant complaining about what she was doing again. She’d had her fill of that today. Instead, she opened the boot and reached in for a pair of wellies, taking off her shoes and pulling on a thick pair of woolly socks. She was actually quite excited by the idea of getting stuck in. They had such a tiny garden at Garrard House and there really wasn’t very much to it other than a lawn, a laurel hedge and a couple of nondescript conifers in pots. She had once made the suggestion of sowing a wildflower area. Actually, she had been hoping to dig up the whole boring lawn and turn it over to poppies, cornflowers and daisies. Grant had looked at her in horror. She’d have thought that a man so in tune with the beauty of classic novels and poetry would have welcomed the romance of a meadow, but he was very attached to that little piece of lawn, mowing it in neat stripes and sitting out on it briefly a
• 19. Chapter 11 The bare hedgerows of the Thames Valley lit up in Cape’s headlights as he drove along the winding roads home. Recent rain made the roads treacherous and had turned the lane to his cottage into a river. He slowed down, inching his way through the water and avoiding the potholes he knew lurked to either side of him. He’d once thought about updating his old car but, with the mass of tools he had to take everywhere and the state of the lanes in winter, it really wasn’t worth it. Plus there was the issue of money. He couldn’t justify spending on a newer vehicle. Pulling up to his home, he saw the lights were on, but the curtains hadn’t yet been drawn. He smiled as he saw Poppy skipping into the living room. He loved that she still skipped at ten years old. He watched her for a moment before getting out of the car and going inside. ‘Daddy’s home!’ Poppy shouted, skipping down the hallway to greet him. ‘Well, hello there!’ he said with a laugh, kissing the top of her head and smell
• 20. Chapter 12 ‘Who’s Angela?’ Tobias demanded. They were standing in the living room where Emilia had been rearranging the furniture. She wasn’t allowed to redecorate, but at least she could assert herself by moving a few pieces around. It drove Tobias mad. ‘Put that bloody chair back, will you? And tell me who this Angela is.’ ‘I’ve told you. She’s a friend from university.’ ‘And why’s she coming here?’ ‘Because I’ve been home for weeks now and I’ve seen nobody but you, Jay and Mrs Beatty.’ ‘And what’s wrong with that?’ ‘Nothing. It’s just that I’d like bit of female conversation. With a friend.’ ‘But I’m your friend.’ Emilia took a deep breath, trying to keep calm. ‘Yes, but you’re my brother.’ ‘What does that mean?’ ‘It means that I can’t talk to you about everything.’ This, she quickly realised, had been exactly the wrong thing to say. ‘You should talk to me about everything,’ Tobias said. ‘I don’t want you hiding things from me, Emilia.’ ‘I’m not hiding things from you.’ ‘What aren’t
• 21. Chapter 13 The cold, dark days of January finally came to an end and were replaced by the more hopeful month of February with its noticeably longer days and much-anticipated pops of colour from the crocuses. It was wonderful to be able to work in the garden until five o’clock, and the team made the most of it. Cape remembered the protests at the beginning of the project and how many of their team had said that they could only give the minimum five hours each week, but that had changed and all seven of them could be found in the garden on both Saturdays and Sundays, sometimes for the entire duration of the day, and very often during the week too. Mac had taken delivery of a lorryload of well-rotted manure, which was now being wheelbarrowed into the walled garden and heaped into the raised beds that had been newly made by Patrick and his sons. ‘We’ll take care of that,’ Patrick had declared as soon as he’d seen it, surprising everyone as he flashed a smile at the group. ‘He’s changed his
• 22. Chapter 14 Cape took a deep breath of icy air as he stopped digging for a moment, looking down the great sweep of lawn which ended at the River Thames just outside Medmenham. The house, a Palladian manor in red brick with huge sash windows across three floors and great columns either side of the front door, belonged to his favourite clients, Colonel and Mrs Shelton. They’d asked him to create some more flower beds and redefine the existing ones. It was hard work, but it was a very good way to keep warm. It also gave him time to think about what had happened the day before. He still couldn’t believe it. Anne Marie had left her husband, and she’d sworn that it had nothing to do with the conversation they’d had. But that seemed a bit of a coincidence, didn’t it? He was quite sure there was no way she’d have done that if he hadn’t given her the idea of speaking to her husband and standing up for herself. Or would she? He was beginning to realise that there was much more to Anne Marie than
• 23. Chapter 15 Emilia was excited by the prospect of a meal with guests. Never before had she cooked for anyone at home other than herself, but there were two visitors at Morton Hall and that was cause for celebration. Emilia smiled to herself when she thought about her brother’s initial resistance to her friend Angela staying. He hadn’t made any further noises about her leaving, she mused. Emilia might not have seen a lot of them because they were spending so much time together but, when she had, Tobias had definitely been in a better mood than usual and that was all down to Angela. For a moment, Emilia tried to imagine what it would be like to have a dozen Angelas staying with them. How wonderful it would be to shock the empty bedrooms into life and to fill the place with joy. Perhaps there was still time to do that. Perhaps today was just the first day in a whole new life for Morton Hall. With Mrs Beatty’s help, Emilia set the dining room table with a beautiful red linen tablecloth, lai
• 24. Chapter 16 The brief winter flurry of snow in February was overtaken by a mild March. Daffodils gilded the edges of the garden, replacing the army of snowdrops and crocuses. There were also hyacinths blooming amongst the winter leaves that were still to be cleared. It was, Cape said, ‘a good start on the bulb front’, and Anne Marie had spotted the fresh leaves of bluebells flourishing in the nuttery. The days were now lengthening and that meant more time could be spent in the garden. A few members of the group had been coming during the week as well as the weekends and the results were visible. Mac had managed to clear a path on the other side of the walled garden and had done a fantastic job pruning some of the old trees there. Dorothy and Erin had joined forces to clear a wild area to the west of the house using a scythe that Mac had found in one of the old sheds. Erin had once taken a summer course in scything and had been tutoring Dorothy in how to use the traditional garden tool.
• 25. Chapter 17 March blew in and out in a flurry of showers and it was a great relief when April arrived with a balmy kiss. Jackets were shed as the team worked in the garden. Great slabs arrived and new paths were made. Benches were bought and then, one wondrous morning, a lorry laden with plants was delivered. The garden was really beginning to take shape. Relationships were beginning to take shape too, Cape had noticed, watching as Kathleen and Patrick worked side by side with his boys. They certainly kept everyone guessing, he thought. A few of the group had been wondering whether something was brewing between them, and Anne Marie and Cape were never really certain if the tempestuous pair were going to trade insults or kisses next. But Kathleen’s relationship with his boys had definitely changed for the better. She genuinely seemed to care about them now whereas, before, she’d merely tolerated them. Then there was Dorothy and Erin. Just that morning, he’d watched as Erin helped Dorothy
• 26. Chapter 18 It was one of those glorious hot summer days that get British people through the long, dark days of winter. The sky was a blinding blue and the garden had a sort of reverent hush about it that demanded you turn your own volume down and just sit and observe the beauty around you. It was too hot to paint. The bedroom had been stifling and Emilia and Jay had simply given up. Now they were lying on a rug under the shade of the cedar tree, one of its glorious branches acting like a massive green parasol above them. Emilia had taken the midnight-blue gown off and was now wearing a white cotton dress of her own. She’d almost forgotten what it was like to wear twentieth-century clothes. The fabric was so light and she almost felt naked wearing it, and she was slightly self-conscious at how pale her arms and legs looked. Jay had told her he loved her skin. He called her his ‘porcelain beauty’ and said that Rossetti would have forsaken all his other muses to paint her. Emilia wasn’t s
• 27. Chapter 19 Jay looked pensive. ‘What is it?’ Emilia asked, turning around from the window. ‘It’s done.’ ‘What is?’ ‘The painting.’ ‘Really?’ He looked at her and nodded, a sad smile on his face. ‘Can I see it?’ ‘Of course.’ She left the window where she had been standing for the last hour and a half and walked towards the easel. ‘It’s funny,’ she said with a small laugh, ‘but I’m actually nervous.’ ‘But you’ve seen it before.’ ‘Yes, but that was a while ago now.’ ‘Well, if you’d rather not see it . . .’ Jay said, blocking her way. ‘Silly!’ she said, batting his arm and then pushing him firmly aside before taking a look at the canvas. She tipped her head first one way and then the other. ‘Well?’ Jay said, seemingly impatient for her response. ‘You’ve made me look like . . . like . . .’ ‘An angel?’ ‘I don’t know about that. An angel in the house, perhaps.’ ‘What?’ ‘The angel in the house,’ she said again. ‘It was the Victorian notion of the ideal woman – one who was submissive to the men
• 28. Chapter 20 The shock of seeing Tobias standing in the middle of the maze hit Emilia like a physical blow. ‘What are you doing here?’ she demanded. ‘I might ask you the same thing.’ They stood staring at each other as if weighing one another’s next move. ‘He’s gone, Emilia.’ ‘What?’ ‘You won’t be seeing him again.’ ‘What do you mean?’ ‘We had a talk, Jay and I, and let me tell you, he understood me perfectly.’ Emilia looked around in panic, swallowing hard as she wondered whether to call out his name. ‘I made it worth his while,’ Tobias added. ‘I can be very persuasive when I want to be. Or rather, money can be very persuasive.’ ‘You didn’t! I don’t believe you.’ ‘Oh, I did.’ ‘Jay wouldn’t have left. It wasn’t about money.’ ‘It’s always about money. You saw his face when I gave him the cheque for the portrait. He couldn’t believe his luck. Well, you should have seen it when I gave him the one tonight.’ Emilia shook her head. ‘You’re lying. I know you’re lying! We’re in love. Don’t you u
• 29. Chapter 21 ‘I think we should protest,’ Erin told Anne Marie one Saturday in May. ‘What about?’ ‘About being locked away in this dungeon all day!’ ‘It’s hardly a dungeon,’ Anne Marie pointed out, looking around the glorious study with its panelled walls and mullioned window. ‘Well, it feels like one to me.’ ‘Maybe you should rethink wanting to work in a museum, then,’ Anne Marie warned her. ‘You’re very likely to end up in some dusty office somewhere.’ ‘But at least I’d be doing something wonderful,’ Erin said. ‘We’re just filing here.’ She had a point, Anne Marie conceded. It didn’t bother her so much, but Erin was obviously raring to get stuck in to some really exciting work. ‘I guess I’d rather be outside today too,’ she went on. ‘It’s such a gorgeous day.’ Anne Marie looked out of the window. Suddenly, everything had taken on that wonderful green of spring. Mac had assured them that the last frost was over and that it would be safe to start planting out. The team were starting work
• 30. Chapter 22 Anne Marie sat in her car for a full five minutes before mustering the courage to get out and knock on her mother’s front door. Even after a restless night’s sleep, during which she could think of nothing but that cheque, she still didn’t know what she was going to say or how her mother would react. Would she know anything about it and, even if she did, would she enlighten Anne Marie? There was no way of knowing but there was only one way to find out. ‘Hi, Mum,’ she managed as Janet Lattimore opened the front door with a frown on her face. ‘Was I expecting you?’ she asked. ‘Not exactly.’ ‘Oh. Well, you’d better come in, I suppose.’ Anne Marie followed her through to the kitchen where her mother switched on the kettle and made them both a cup of tea. ‘I’d have got more milk in if I’d known you were coming. I’m running low, you know.’ ‘Sorry.’ Her mother gave a world-weary sigh. ‘What’s all this about anyway?’ Anne Marie swallowed hard. ‘I’ve got something to show you.’ ‘What?
• 31. Chapter 23 It was Saturday lunchtime, the week after Anne Marie had found the cheque written by her father, when another discovery was made. ‘Anne Marie – come and see what I’ve found,’ Erin cried, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Anne Marie joined her, watching as she removed a white sheet from a painting which had been leaning against the wall of one of the bedrooms. ‘It’s the Victorian portrait.’ ‘You recognise it?’ Erin asked. ‘Cape and I saw this once before.’ Anne Marie bit her lip as Erin gave her a puzzled look. ‘We sneaked into the house when Mrs Beatty was out.’ ‘And you didn’t tell me?’ ‘It was before the group began work here. We were desperate to see inside so came in when we were sure the coast was clear. We didn’t get long before Mrs Beatty returned, but I’ll never forget seeing this.’ ‘So it was hanging up when you last saw it?’ Anne Marie nodded. ‘I noticed it was missing when Mrs Beatty brought us upstairs, but I couldn’t say anything.’ ‘Why do you think she moved
• 32. Chapter 24 Anne Marie recognised the car immediately as she pulled up outside her mother’s house. It was Grant’s. She sat there, mystified as to why he’d be there. As if I don’t have enough to deal with, she couldn’t help thinking. She got out of the car, walked up the path and knocked on the door. Her mother answered a moment later. ‘Ah, Anne Marie! How funny you should turn up like this.’ ‘Mum, what’s going on? Why’s Grant here?’ Her mother looked perplexed by this question. ‘He’s your husband. Why shouldn’t he be here talking to his mother-in-law?’ ‘Because we’re getting divorced, Mum. I told you.’ ‘Oh, what nonsense,’ her mother said, swatting a hand in her direction. ‘You just need to sit down and talk things through.’ Anne Marie followed her into the living room in disbelief. ‘Anne Marie!’ Grant said, leaping out of the armchair he’d been sitting in. ‘What are you doing here, Grant?’ ‘Grant’s been explaining it all to me,’ her mother said, ‘and you’ve been letting yourself get wo
• 33. Chapter 25 The July sun shone down on the garden at Morton Hall from dawn till dusk, browning the limbs of the gardeners and making everything bloom. The greenhouse and the raised beds were brimming with produce. Everything was pushing, growing and surging towards the sun. The sweet peas, which Matthew and Elliot had planted and nurtured, were scenting the garden, twisting colourfully around their obelisk and providing the group with delicious handfuls to take home each week. And Cape had dug up the first potatoes for them all to share. Mac had made a picnic bench out of some old planks of wood he’d found around the garden and they were all sitting at it having lunch one Saturday when Erin came running across the lawn from the house. ‘What’s the matter with you?’ Kathleen asked. Erin could barely contain her excitement. ‘Mrs Beatty’s offered me a job,’ she told them. ‘Full-time curator of the collection here.’ ‘Oh, Erin!’ Dorothy said, getting up to hug her. ‘I’m so pleased for you.’ ‘
• 34. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS Huge thanks to Nicki Mattey for suggesting the fabulous name ‘Capability’ for my hero. I love it! Thanks also to Mark Starte and Judith Thompson at Saffron Walden’s Tourist Information Centre, and to John Bosworth – writer of Bridge End Garden Creation and Restoration. Thank you to Andrew Sankey who gave a talk to the Nayland Horticultural Society and mentioned mazes, which gave me the light bulb moment for this novel. And thanks to Sammia, Sophie, Bekah and the team at Lake Union for their enthusiasm and encouragement.
• 35. ABOUT THE AUTHOR Photo © 2017 Roy Connelly Victoria Connelly studied English Literature at Worcester University, got married in a medieval castle in the Yorkshire Dales and now lives in rural Suffolk with her artist husband, a young Springer Spaniel and a flock of ex-battery hens. She is the author of two bestselling series, Austen Addicts and The Book Lovers, as well as many other novels and novellas. Her first published novel, Flights of Angels, was made into a film in 2008 by Ziegler Films in Germany. The Runaway Actress was shortlisted for the Romantic Novelists’ Associations Romantic Comedy Novel award. Ms Connelly loves books, films, walking, historic buildings and animals. If she isn’t at her keyboard writing, she can usually be found in her garden either with a trowel in her hand or a hen on her lap. Her website is www.victoriaconnelly.com and readers can follow her on Twitter @VictoriaDarcy and on Instagram @VictoriaConnellyAuthor.