The Gardener of Aria Manor

by A. L. Duncan

“Yes, we do.”

  Teddy sighed as he gazed about the library. “Well, it looks like I’m finally going to get the time to read all these damned books.”

  Janie stepped over to the Major’s side and took his empty glass. “Would you like me to fix you another, Denys?”

  He nodded. She sniffed the glass. He was drinking a straight malt whiskey.

  “You must be Carolyn,” Teddy said.

  Ilene patted his hand. “I’m sorry. Teddy, this is Carolyn.”

  “Would you care for something, Teddy?” Janie asked.

  “Why yes, thank you. I believe I’ll take another brandy. Seems to numb the pain.”

  His light tone did nothing to ease Ilene’s distress. The mere thought of the pain that must be afflicting him was torture for her.

  Teddy and Janie exchanged smiles as she handed him his brandy, and Janie realized that, except for his sandy blond hair, Teddy didn’t really exhibit any visible family characteristics.

  Teddy held himself erect, and his eyebrow seemed almost permanently raised in question, a sign of keen intellect. His boyish features contributed to a lighthearted charm that issued a most subtle dishonesty behind brown eyes that gleamed in optimism, if only for the sake of his sister.

  Janie had seen that false look of truth in many eyes back in the States, eyes of people who had suffered so much futile hope, searching for that one rainbow to take their hardships away. So many young faces, aged by poverty and stricken by loss. So many in fear, so many alone.

  “I should think I’m staying for dinner,” Teddy said cheerfully. “You will be joining us, won’t you, Carolyn?”

  Before Janie could decline, Ilene answered boldly. “Yes, of course she will.”

  ANNA PREPARED TEDDY’S favorite dish: roast beef and Yorkshire pudding. It was a tremendous compliment to the rich Austrian Zweigelt Teddy had brought back with him from Vienna.

  Teddy cut into his meat and lifted an eye to Janie. “Ilene’s told me so much about you, I feel I know you already.”

  Janie glanced warily at Ilene. “Is that so?”

  “Hmm,” he answered, mouth full. “I could tell immediately how much you’ve changed the lay of everything to the front. I can only imagine what the other gardens look like.”

  “Quite beautiful, I assure you,” Ilene interjected.

  The Major swallowed a mouthful of beef and then raised a wine glass. “Yes. I believe we have made quite the excellent choice of Superintendent, if I do say so myself.”

  Flushing at the compliment, Janie traced a finger around the rim of her water glass. “Well, it isn’t exactly Windsor Gardens, but I do my best.” She tore a dinner roll in half, adding, “The real compliment should go to my help. They do most of the work.”

  “Nonsense,” the Major huffed. “You’re too modest.”

  “Well, Father, all the place needed was a woman’s touch,” said Ilene. “Don’t you agree?”

  The Major considered. “Come to think of it, Aria Manor hasn’t had a woman in charge of its gardens since my grandfather’s day. I should say it’s high time we did.”

  All of the Vanderholts raised their glasses to Janie. “Hear, hear.”

  Janie sighed. “Now that you’ve properly embarrassed me...”

  The Major cackled joyfully and reached over to fill Janie’s empty water glass with the wine. “Why don’t you enlighten us with your knowledge of gardening.”

  Janie’s heart skipped a beat.

  “Yes,” Teddy agreed, talking around another bite. “Why did you change the design of everything?”

  Janie cleared her throat nervously. “It was...your father’s idea.”

  “Quite right,” the Major was quick to answer. “Like everything else around here, it was becoming stale. Old hat, as it were. I thought it a grand idea that Carolyn, knowing her credentials as I did, could see the landscaping through a fresh pair of eyes. Give Aria Manor a fresh look. What?”

  Ilene eyed Janie slyly. “Oh, I think she’s done much more than that.”

  Janie choked on her wine.

  “I’m quite certain there’s a few discoveries you’ve made about the old place, aren’t there, Carolyn?” asked Teddy.

  “I’ve learned that nothing in life is ever permanent,” Janie observed, setting her glass down. “It’s funny how many of life’s philosophies you learn just by digging in the dirt. The old stuff doesn’t really disappear, things just get rearranged.” Janie eyed Teddy and saw that he was lapsing into a reflective mood. “It’s been my experience that the strongest bloom is always undaunted by weeds,” she concluded. “No matter how severe the circumstances.”

  Janie’s unrehearsed, subtle attempt to provide some hope in Teddy’s condition certainly didn’t go unnoticed. He seemed to ponder her few words. Perhaps, he was slowly becoming aware of how best to deal with the change in his life.

  “Tell me,” chimed the Major, “of all the colors of flowers you work with, do you have a favorite, Carolyn?”

  Eyeing Ilene’s soft, creamy yellow silk brocade jacket and the lace top that fit over her breasts gently rising and falling with each gentle breath, Janie murmured, “Yellow.”

  Chapter Six

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  DURING THE WEEKS that followed, Janie kept busy raking leaves and dead-heading the brilliant orange and yellow mums she had placed in rows between Anna’s vegetables. From time to time, she saw Ilene pushing Teddy about the property. She would drape a blanket over his lap and bundle him in a warm coat, fussing over his scarf like a mother. Janie envied their love for one another. It must be something, she thought, to have a sibling to laugh with, to fight with, to love and be loved by. She pulled Carolyn’s Star of David from her pocket and rubbed a finger over its lines as if it would summon the memory of a sister. She had kept it out of curiosity about its owner. Her interest in Carolyn’s past grew every time she would pull the pendant out of her pocket. It nagged at her almost as much as the questions that she had about the skeleton in the cave. With some unexpected free time, Janie decided it was past time that she pay the cave another visit.

  Her departure went unnoticed, except by Gil, who was pruning dead branches of a nearby cedar. Its stalwart form and gracefully crooked limbs, shaped by the seas constant winds, was a favorite of those at the manor. She passed through the small wicket gate and walked down the steep slope that led to the beach. Inside the cave, Janie lit a small lantern which she had purposely left behind for her return. The winds were cold, and the high waves ebbed and trickled into the cave’s mouth. Her footsteps slapped through watery puddles. The lamp only illuminated its immediate surroundings, and echoes made her flinch away from whatever might be hiding in the darkness. It might be bats lurking just overhead. Or worse, rats. She hated rats. There were plenty of rats in New York, and she didn’t feel at all homesick for the little vermin.

  When she located the skeleton, Janie was surprised to see that water had seeped in from somewhere, and the bones were resting in a deep puddle. After some hesitation, she crouched and shined the lamp close to the skull. Seeing a shiny reflection, she moved the lamp closer to the water. There was something underneath. Janie shuddered at the eerie feeling that swept through her when her hand touched the arm, its clenched fist dangling limp in the water. The glimmer she had seen was from something lodged in the bony grasp. Brittle finger joints gave way easily, falling off the hand, much to her dismay.

  “Oops. Sorry,” she said to the empty eye sockets that stared at her. She closely eyed the item that she now held in her hand. It was a gold cufflink with sapphire inlay. “So, how many pirates wore modern cufflinks?”

  The sound of crunching shells alerted Janie that she was not alone. She looked over her shoulder and saw a hand pulling a knife from a boot. Janie’s heart raced to her throat. She quickly stood and spun about, the knife barely missing her thigh and splashing into the water.

  Gil stared at her. Shadows from the lamp threw a grotesque mas
k-like image over his stern features.

  “Why did you move?” He growled. “I almost hit you.”

  Janie seethed, suppressing her urge to choke the life out of him. “Sorry to ruin your day. You’re going to wish you had better aim.”

  Gil threw a hand up to keep her from lunging at him. “Ho, now, lass. I think you’ve mistaken my words.” He gestured at the knife. “Lucky for you, I do have good aim. Go on. Pick it up.”

  Keeping a wary eye on Gil, Janie stepped back and bent down to snatch the knife. When she lifted it from the water, a dead eel dangled from the gleaming tip, its slinky body still quivering. Her skin crawled at the sight, and her cry echoed through the cave as she quickly handed the knife over to Gil.

  Outside the cave, she followed Gil down the beach.

  “I had a feeling you were headed for the cave,” he said, pulling the eel off the knife as if it were nothing but seaweed. “So I followed you down to warn you.”

  “Warn me? I thought you were trying to kill me.”

  He turned a glaring eye at her.

  Nervous, she added, “Gee...how silly of me.”

  In his usual disinterested tone, he spoke to her while gesturing to sea with the knife. “There’s a large storm coming. Storms that size are dangerous. This cave floods during such storms.”

  “Oh.” She watched as he continued up the beach, eel in hand. “You’re not keeping that thing, are you?”

  “Ever had eel?”

  “You’re not going to tell me it tastes like chicken.”

  JANIE ENTERED THE house through the servants’ entrance, still musing over the gold cufflink clenched in her hand. In the servants’ hall, she was practically run over by a cavalcade of the help. She pressed herself against the kitchen door and shoved her hand into her pocket. Anna, Liz, and Bartley all filed past with fresh sheets, blankets, freshly arranged bouquets of flowers, and luggage. Much to Janie’s surprise, it was her luggage.

  “Whoa, wait a minute!” she shouted to the troop. “What’s going on? Bartley, what are you doing with my luggage?”

  Anna tipped her head and smiled slyly. “The Missus ’as asked that your things be moved to the guest room.” She continued as Janie pulled her luggage away from Bartley. “It appears her brother, Mr. Vanderholt, will be staying on permanently. And because he can’t rely on Gil or Michael to lift him up the stairs every time he goes to his room, it was decided to give him a room on this floor.”

  Bartley raised a disinterested eyebrow and pressed Janie’s third piece of luggage against her chest. She awkwardly followed the women up the stairs, attempting to carry all her own luggage. At the top of the stairs, Ilene stood just outside the door to the sitting room, hands clasped behind her back. With a smile, she turned and disappeared into the room, leaving Janie to consider her motives.

  In the guest room, Janie noticed a wood and brass mantle clock, above which hung a Gothic tapestry of David, his foot resting on the severed head of Goliath.

  “A bit morbid,” said Liz, cringing. “Don’t you think?”

  Janie was indifferent. It had just occurred to her that even with all his money, her own father had very little taste in décor. She pulled her jacket off and slung it over her arm, casually taking in all the little details, accent pieces her father never had, nor probably even knew existed.

  “Carolyn’s going to get spoiled staying up ’ere.” Liz snickered and winked to Janie.

  “I’m pretty sure she’ll handle herself quite fine,” Anna replied. “It’s not like she wouldn’t be used to it.”

  Janie glanced at Anna. “Why do you say that?”

  Anna met Janie’s eyes only briefly as she made up the bed with fresh sheets. “I’ve done your laundry, luv. Your clothes aren’t cheap. I’m sure you were making pretty good money back in the States. You’re not the type of lady who’d be staying in the tenant stockyards, that’s for sure.”

  Janie smiled. “You don’t miss much, do you Anna?”

  “I’ve not lived sixty years in the dark, if that’s what you mean,” Anna replied with a grin, fluffing a pillow.

  Liz gathered the discarded sheets and looked at Janie curiously. “Whatever made you come to Aria Manor, if you ’ad all that?”

  Janie took time to consider her answer. While everything at Aria Manor was a new experience, there was still something that felt strangely familiar about it all. After a moment, she replied with a vague version of the truth. “Someone suggested I get out of New York for a while. I was more than ready for a vacation of sorts.” Janie gazed out the window. “Anna?”

  “Yes.”

  “How long have you worked here?”

  Anna exhaled and rolled her eyes. “Let’s see. Over forty years now, I suppose.”

  “Really?” Liz gasped. “That long?”

  “The Major has been kind to me. I was a young widow,” Anna recalled with a sigh of regret. “And with no husband, at nineteen, a girl had to find work. Everything I know I learned after the Major employed me. Ooh, that was a long time ago,” she mused. “Why do you ask?”

  “Oh, no particular reason,” Janie answered, feeling that sense of déjà vu again. “Just curious, I guess. Have many guests stayed in this room?”

  Anna smirked. “In this room? I should daresay only the Missus’s older brother, Oliver, and his wife on frequent visits, besides yourself. Oh, now wait.” Anna pondered thoughtfully. “There was one other. Oh, but that was many years ago. A friend of Mrs. Vanderholt. You know, I was just as surprised as you to hear Oliver will have to stay in his old room, now that you’re here.” Anna cackled with mischief in her eyes. “Oh, but you’ve never met her older brother, have you?”

  “I haven’t had the pleasure.”

  “You’ve been lucky, up until now. It’s about this time of year he comes to stay every weekend.”

  Janie grinned at Liz as she rolled her eyes. “I see how well-loved he is around here.”

  “Thinks ’e’s a big shot, ’e does.” Liz dusted the wardrobe with sharp whisks. “A big shot accountant for some big shot import business.”

  “He’s quite the traveler,” Anna added. “Works in Paris, Rome, India, and Egypt. Why, he even wrote the Missus from China on one occasion. During the fall and winter months, though, he’s back in England for a spell, taking the rail from London to Bristol and Bath. For his weekly inventory audits, or so he says. That’s when we have the unfortunate duty of serving his Royal Godliness.”

  “If there was anybody you ever wanted to ’ate because ’e rubbed ’is snobby little rich money nose in your face, its ’im,” Liz said with disdain.

  “Don’t get us wrong about the Vanderholts as a family of integrity, now,” added Anna in her matter-of-fact tone. “You can bet your rubies it wasn’t the Major’s way of raising him that turned him into such a spoiled brat. That was achieved all on his own, thank you. And he won’t lose a chance ta remind you, neither. He’s quite a character, not at all like sweet Teddy. Now, there’s two peas not born from the same pod, if you ask me. Like night and day, they are. Only good reason to see why Teddy is so loved in the manor. Oh, now there’s a catch if ever I seen one—darling disposition, considerate, and smart. Handsome as the day is long. Oh, if only I was forty years younger.”

  Janie drifted over to the bed and brushed her hand across the soft peach bedspread and drapery that hung around the canopy. “Do you remember this friend of Mrs. Vanderholt at all, Anna?”

  Anna stopped and furrowed a brow. “That was many years ago. Now, let’s see. What was her name?” After deep searching for a long forgotten memory, she spread her palms in defeat. “Funny, I can’t remember. Isn’t that strange? But I do recall she picked out that color of bedspread.”

  A vision erupted in Janie’s brain and ran down to her hand, making her withdraw it as if the fabric were on fire. “Really?”

  Anna flipped a nonchalant hand at her. “Oh, she and the Major’s wife were very close. Often she’d stay with the Missus when the Major wa
s off in some other part of the world playing soldier.” Suddenly, as if a light bulb was lit up, she eyed Janie’s profile. “You know, you look...”

  Janie felt her stare and turned a questioning eye to Anna.

  Janie knew when her mother would be thinking of something long forgotten. She’d get that same strange faraway look in her eyes. Her mother had a knack for remembering faces, even the smallest details. Janie hoped to acquire that look someday about her most recent past in New York. She believed like most things, features fade with time to be lost in recollections. And imagined reflections upon water clear in the present, only to fade as ripples barely visible as the earth folds over one season into another. She wondered briefly if she’d forget the fleeting vision of a tree whose tiny new branch once held a barren leaf, its fall release to float on memories of spring’s one time enchantment.

  Anna snuffed out the thought, bringing Janie back to the present. “Oh...it’s nothing.”

  ILENE WAS STANDING at the great bay windows in the sitting room, her hands clasped behind her. Dark gloom had overtaken the sky, its clouds rolling and billowing in dutiful preparation for a storm. The seas tossed against great breakers, smashing violently upon rocks barely visible in the gathering layer of mist and fog.

  Her eyes focused on something far distant. She no longer attempted to find a face long lost to a storm’s rise. Her eyes were not brilliant, or even keen, but quiet and meditative instead. She had become quite at peace with life at Aria Manor.

  Ilene sensed Janie’s entrance into the room. She smiled at her presence. “A storm is coming.”

  Janie nodded. “Gil told me it would.”

  Ilene turned a polite eye to her. “I saw the two of you approaching from the beach. Find anything interesting?”

  A sly grin spread over Janie’s lips. “Only a very ugly sea creature that Gil insisted would make a lovely main ingredient in a favorite stew of his own making, and not a very tasty one in my opinion. So, tell me. How is it your eyes find distractions from the sea, Mrs. Eldridge? One would think you deeply interested in nothing else.”