TWENTY-THREE

IT WAS a beautiful huge garden, with the entrance to the grounds littered with a few statues of horses, lions, and wolves. The inside consisted of forest trees that lined outer walls topped with thick, sun-tanned bricks. There were irises, English roses red and white, tulips and lavenders on boxed compartments. She strolled in between boxes and boxes of perennials and annuals, basking in the sweet smell of flowers until she reached the gazebo that was at the farthest end of the pavement her feet followed as she explored.

Once there, she sat and faced the pond where water flowed under a short, romantic-looking bridge. Flowering peas, of all things, climbed this bridge and it looked very pretty to the eyes. As she watched the water and basked in the coolness of the breeze on her face, for a moment it seemed like her troubles disappeared.

But it all came back when she heard the neighing of horses arriving in the chateau.

The Baron had come back.

Would he ask for her? The servants knew wh