"Oh, darling, isn't this just the dearest spot' It's perfect!"
Piper almost groaned. She loved her mother, she honestly did, but the last thing she had needed right now was for Lady Hannah Davidson to show up unexpectedly and announce that it was about time someone did something about the arrangements for this wedding.
That had been at 9 o'clock this morning. It was now half past 4 in the afternoon, and Piper was trailing her mother around the grounds of Maple Grove, the Grangers' family compound. She'd been allowed to insist on an outdoor service, and her mother had even given way when she'd firmly stated that it was going to be a secular ceremony. However, it hadn't stopped Hannah from making pointed comments about her grandchildren being raised in the right religion.
But while her mother gushed over every part of the Grangers' grounds, finding something to love whichever way she turned, Piper found herself feeling awkward and out of place. Hannah had, of course, simply presented herself at the gates as the future mother-in-law of Oliver Hudson Granger the Third, and had been admitted probably solely on her aristocratic manner, demanding a tour of the grounds in the most polite fashion in order to choose a place for her daughter to be married in.
It would never have occurred to Piper to do this. She'd never been here herself; it wasn't something Ollie seemed comfortable to even suggest, much less make happen, and she didn't want to go behind his back on any detail of anything she did. The pregnant bride felt like an intruder, even out here among the cultivated wilderness that shielded the Grangers from the outside world.
"Lady Piper?"
She blinked, hearing her name spoken together with the title she'd been hoping to leave at home, and turned to find herself on the receiving end of warm brown eyes and a gentle smile, set in the face of an elderly man as he leaned on his ebony cane. He held out his hand to her, and with a shy smile lighting up her face, she moved to take it, grateful for the reprieve.
"Just Piper, please," she asked softly. "I'm so sorry if we're disturbing you; my mother can be rather strident when she's happy."
The old man chuckled to himself, tucking her hand into his elbow. "Not at all, Piper," he assured her. "It is always a pleasure to see my gardens enjoyed with so much enthusiasm."
"Your gardens?" She blinked, looking up at him as he began to lead her with slow steps through an overgrown walkway. "I think you have the advantage of me, sir."
"Why, yes, I believe I do," he laughed, pausing to pat her hand before resuming the gentle amble of his pace. The scent ahead spoke of a honeypot of flowers, and indeed, this was what Piper was led to; a carefully maintained gravel path, lined with huge shrubs of multi-coloured flowers on either side. "I couldn't help overhearing the purpose of your visit; perhaps you will allow me to recommend a spot here in the gardens for your consideration?"
Amused by his amiable insistence on keeping his identity from her for now, Piper smiled to herself, careful not to put too much pressure on his arm as they made their way between the flowering shrubs toward an expanse of lawn. "I bow to your superior knowledge of the grounds," she chuckled softly along with him. "Although I really can't make any of these decisions without at least talking to Ollie first."
The old man nodded agreeably. "Oh, I understand, of course," he conceded. "And young Oliver isn't a man to be gainsaid lightly, for all his good breeding and polished manners. He's like the rest of us - there's a strong will hidden under all that spit and polish. But, like the rest of us, he'll bend that will in a heartbeat, for the right woman."
His smile was just a little too knowing for Piper's composure, bringing a flush of sweet embarrassment to her cheeks at the implication that she was the right woman for Ollie. The old man laughed, his breath rasping between his lips as he patted her hand once more, sinking down onto a bench set just inside a red-brick wall at the far end of the open walk.
"Forgive me, my dear, I'm too old to take this walk without a few rests now and then," he wheezed in apology, one hand digging into his trouser pocket to produce an inhaler.
"Not at all, please take your time," Piper jumped to reassure him, lowering her own tired body down onto the bench beside him. "I could do with a rest myself." She offered him a slightly mischievous smile, leaning back against the stone of the bench as her hand came to rest on the crown of her growing belly.
He laughed shortly, appreciating her attempt at reassuring him. She wasn't surprised when his eyes lowered to her pregnant belly, although the twitch of his hand toward her was unusual. The only man she'd come across who wanted to touch her belly was Ollie; women evidently felt no compunction not to cop a feel whenever they could.
"How many weeks?" he asked quietly, and she blinked, shaking herself out of her thoughts to meet his eyes. His expression was understanding, and she knew that by now everyone who was familiar with the Grangers would know of her predicament.
"24 weeks," she shrugged lightly. "I'm told that I'm not going to enjoy my third trimester in the heat of the summer. My midwife suggested we arrange the wedding for sometime in the next month."
"She's right," he nodded with a smile of his own. "I've heard many women complain about heat and pregnancy, and far be it from me to argue with them. I, uh ....I don't see a ring on your finger, young lady."
Piper blushed hotly, wishing she'd thought to hide her hand. Of course a relative of Ollie's would notice that little fact. "I didn't think it was essential to have an engagement ring."
"Not essential, no," the old man agreed, but there was a look in his eye that suggested he knew more than he was letting on here. "Well, then, shall we get on' No doubt your mother will notice you have wandered off soon."
He rose to his feet, offering his arm to Piper once again, and together they stepped through the gate in the red-brick wall and onto a beautifully kept lawn. But it wasn't the soft lushness of the grass that took Piper's breath away, nor the shades of green in the landscaped borders that wound here and there around the edges of that expanse of lawn. No, it was the shell of a stone building that stood in its midst that caught her attention; some romantic ruin that must once have been the main house here at Maple Grove.
"Oh, my goodness," she breathed, releasing the old man's arm to step up to the empty ruin, one hand touching the worn lintel of the main door almost tenderly as she leaned inside to smile at the space left there. "It's so beautiful ....was this the original house?"
The old man chuckled softly at her enthusiasm, making his own way more slowly to the open space left before the ruin. "Yes, this was the first house built with the growing profits of what was to become Granger Guild," he told her quietly. "The four siblings lived here, together with their spouses. It was their children who began to buy up the land all around and create the compound as we know it today."
"But what happened here?" Curious as ever, Piper hadn't noticed her mother's reappearance. To her credit, however, Hannah made no mention of her daughter's defection from wedding duties, as caught up in the romantic history of this part of the grounds as Piper.
The old man turned, offering a nod of greeting to Hannah before continuing. "There was a fire ....oh, more than a hundred and fifty years ago, now," he explained, the family history coming to a life a little in the fond roughness of his voice as he spoke. "Of those who lived in this house at the time, there were only two survivors; the matriarch of the time, a harridan of a woman named Martha, and her youngest great-grandson, Hubert. Hubert's parents and grandparents were killed in the inferno; apparently they made certain to get Martha and the child out safely, and left themselves no way of escape. Martha decided that the house should stand as you see it now, as a memorial of the love that holds our family together through thick and thin. And, as you can see, consequent generations have done their best to make this the most beautiful spot in the gardens."
Piper's smile grew ever so slowly as the old man went on, her teeth finding purchase to nibble at her lower lip as she listened to the story. Tragic though it was, it was laced with affection and hope; both feelings she recognised easily as that which she felt for Ollie. Whether it was an old man's fancy or not, she could not think of a better place in which to bind herself to her neurotic artist than here, where generations of his family had lived and loved before him.
Piper almost groaned. She loved her mother, she honestly did, but the last thing she had needed right now was for Lady Hannah Davidson to show up unexpectedly and announce that it was about time someone did something about the arrangements for this wedding.
That had been at 9 o'clock this morning. It was now half past 4 in the afternoon, and Piper was trailing her mother around the grounds of Maple Grove, the Grangers' family compound. She'd been allowed to insist on an outdoor service, and her mother had even given way when she'd firmly stated that it was going to be a secular ceremony. However, it hadn't stopped Hannah from making pointed comments about her grandchildren being raised in the right religion.
But while her mother gushed over every part of the Grangers' grounds, finding something to love whichever way she turned, Piper found herself feeling awkward and out of place. Hannah had, of course, simply presented herself at the gates as the future mother-in-law of Oliver Hudson Granger the Third, and had been admitted probably solely on her aristocratic manner, demanding a tour of the grounds in the most polite fashion in order to choose a place for her daughter to be married in.
It would never have occurred to Piper to do this. She'd never been here herself; it wasn't something Ollie seemed comfortable to even suggest, much less make happen, and she didn't want to go behind his back on any detail of anything she did. The pregnant bride felt like an intruder, even out here among the cultivated wilderness that shielded the Grangers from the outside world.
"Lady Piper?"
She blinked, hearing her name spoken together with the title she'd been hoping to leave at home, and turned to find herself on the receiving end of warm brown eyes and a gentle smile, set in the face of an elderly man as he leaned on his ebony cane. He held out his hand to her, and with a shy smile lighting up her face, she moved to take it, grateful for the reprieve.
"Just Piper, please," she asked softly. "I'm so sorry if we're disturbing you; my mother can be rather strident when she's happy."
The old man chuckled to himself, tucking her hand into his elbow. "Not at all, Piper," he assured her. "It is always a pleasure to see my gardens enjoyed with so much enthusiasm."
"Your gardens?" She blinked, looking up at him as he began to lead her with slow steps through an overgrown walkway. "I think you have the advantage of me, sir."
"Why, yes, I believe I do," he laughed, pausing to pat her hand before resuming the gentle amble of his pace. The scent ahead spoke of a honeypot of flowers, and indeed, this was what Piper was led to; a carefully maintained gravel path, lined with huge shrubs of multi-coloured flowers on either side. "I couldn't help overhearing the purpose of your visit; perhaps you will allow me to recommend a spot here in the gardens for your consideration?"
Amused by his amiable insistence on keeping his identity from her for now, Piper smiled to herself, careful not to put too much pressure on his arm as they made their way between the flowering shrubs toward an expanse of lawn. "I bow to your superior knowledge of the grounds," she chuckled softly along with him. "Although I really can't make any of these decisions without at least talking to Ollie first."
The old man nodded agreeably. "Oh, I understand, of course," he conceded. "And young Oliver isn't a man to be gainsaid lightly, for all his good breeding and polished manners. He's like the rest of us - there's a strong will hidden under all that spit and polish. But, like the rest of us, he'll bend that will in a heartbeat, for the right woman."
His smile was just a little too knowing for Piper's composure, bringing a flush of sweet embarrassment to her cheeks at the implication that she was the right woman for Ollie. The old man laughed, his breath rasping between his lips as he patted her hand once more, sinking down onto a bench set just inside a red-brick wall at the far end of the open walk.
"Forgive me, my dear, I'm too old to take this walk without a few rests now and then," he wheezed in apology, one hand digging into his trouser pocket to produce an inhaler.
"Not at all, please take your time," Piper jumped to reassure him, lowering her own tired body down onto the bench beside him. "I could do with a rest myself." She offered him a slightly mischievous smile, leaning back against the stone of the bench as her hand came to rest on the crown of her growing belly.
He laughed shortly, appreciating her attempt at reassuring him. She wasn't surprised when his eyes lowered to her pregnant belly, although the twitch of his hand toward her was unusual. The only man she'd come across who wanted to touch her belly was Ollie; women evidently felt no compunction not to cop a feel whenever they could.
"How many weeks?" he asked quietly, and she blinked, shaking herself out of her thoughts to meet his eyes. His expression was understanding, and she knew that by now everyone who was familiar with the Grangers would know of her predicament.
"24 weeks," she shrugged lightly. "I'm told that I'm not going to enjoy my third trimester in the heat of the summer. My midwife suggested we arrange the wedding for sometime in the next month."
"She's right," he nodded with a smile of his own. "I've heard many women complain about heat and pregnancy, and far be it from me to argue with them. I, uh ....I don't see a ring on your finger, young lady."
Piper blushed hotly, wishing she'd thought to hide her hand. Of course a relative of Ollie's would notice that little fact. "I didn't think it was essential to have an engagement ring."
"Not essential, no," the old man agreed, but there was a look in his eye that suggested he knew more than he was letting on here. "Well, then, shall we get on' No doubt your mother will notice you have wandered off soon."
He rose to his feet, offering his arm to Piper once again, and together they stepped through the gate in the red-brick wall and onto a beautifully kept lawn. But it wasn't the soft lushness of the grass that took Piper's breath away, nor the shades of green in the landscaped borders that wound here and there around the edges of that expanse of lawn. No, it was the shell of a stone building that stood in its midst that caught her attention; some romantic ruin that must once have been the main house here at Maple Grove.
"Oh, my goodness," she breathed, releasing the old man's arm to step up to the empty ruin, one hand touching the worn lintel of the main door almost tenderly as she leaned inside to smile at the space left there. "It's so beautiful ....was this the original house?"
The old man chuckled softly at her enthusiasm, making his own way more slowly to the open space left before the ruin. "Yes, this was the first house built with the growing profits of what was to become Granger Guild," he told her quietly. "The four siblings lived here, together with their spouses. It was their children who began to buy up the land all around and create the compound as we know it today."
"But what happened here?" Curious as ever, Piper hadn't noticed her mother's reappearance. To her credit, however, Hannah made no mention of her daughter's defection from wedding duties, as caught up in the romantic history of this part of the grounds as Piper.
The old man turned, offering a nod of greeting to Hannah before continuing. "There was a fire ....oh, more than a hundred and fifty years ago, now," he explained, the family history coming to a life a little in the fond roughness of his voice as he spoke. "Of those who lived in this house at the time, there were only two survivors; the matriarch of the time, a harridan of a woman named Martha, and her youngest great-grandson, Hubert. Hubert's parents and grandparents were killed in the inferno; apparently they made certain to get Martha and the child out safely, and left themselves no way of escape. Martha decided that the house should stand as you see it now, as a memorial of the love that holds our family together through thick and thin. And, as you can see, consequent generations have done their best to make this the most beautiful spot in the gardens."
Piper's smile grew ever so slowly as the old man went on, her teeth finding purchase to nibble at her lower lip as she listened to the story. Tragic though it was, it was laced with affection and hope; both feelings she recognised easily as that which she felt for Ollie. Whether it was an old man's fancy or not, she could not think of a better place in which to bind herself to her neurotic artist than here, where generations of his family had lived and loved before him.