The Heart of the Garden by Victoria Connelly

Author:Victoria Connelly [Connelly, Victoria]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781612187044
Publisher: Lake Union Publishing
Published: 2018-02-21T16:00:00+00:00

Angela Godfrey was such a wonderful breath of fresh air that just seeing her joyous face made Emilia happy. With her short blonde curly hair, which bounced around her face, her pink lipgloss and blue eyeshadow, she looked like a flower personified, and Emilia adored her.

‘Emmy!’ Angela cried as she caught sight of her outside Oxford train station.

‘Angie!’

They threw themselves at each other, hugging and kissing each other’s cheeks.

‘God, I’ve missed you!’

‘I’ve missed you too!’ Emilia said, suddenly realising how very long she’d been without female companionship. After all, Mrs Beatty wasn’t exactly the sort you would confide in about the new love of your life. ‘Come on, let’s get home. Tobias is anxious to get his car back in one piece.’

They chatted non-stop on the journey back to Parvington. Angela had never been to Oxfordshire before and commented on the prettiness of the villages they drove through. It was a gentler landscape than that of North Yorkshire. Her home was on the edge of a village overlooking a windswept moor. It sounded very romantic to Emilia – very Wuthering Heights – but Angela soon put her right, telling her that there was nothing romantic about knotted hair and a wind-chapped face.

Turning into the driveway of Morton Hall, Emilia awaited her friend’s response and it wasn’t long before it came.

‘Blimey, this is your home?’

‘It is.’

‘It looks like a museum.’

Emilia laughed. ‘It’s Victorian Gothic. Not everybody likes that style.’

‘It’s a bit—’

‘Austere?’ Emilia suggested.

‘Yes.’

‘It’s more beautiful inside. Wait until you see the paintings and the furnishings.’

It was a sad fact that Emilia hadn’t had many friends visit her home over the years. Her mother had once given her and her brother permission to have a birthday party each when Emilia was six years old. She had invited a few friends from the local primary school and Joanna Morton had almost swooned with exhaustion by the end of the day, fanning herself with a copy of Country Life and declaring that she was very glad that the whole business was over. Emilia couldn’t remember much about her brother’s party. He’d been ten or eleven and she’d spent most of it outside, away from the noise that the boys were making. Other than those two parties, she could count the number of visitors on one hand, and her brother seemed intent on keeping it that way. But she was determined to defy him in this.

She parked her brother’s car and helped Angela with her luggage, entering the hall a moment later.

‘This really is like a museum!’ Angela cried as she looked at the impressive hallway and the sweep of stairs.

‘Wait until you see your bedroom.’

Emilia led the way, listening to Angela’s low whistles as she took in the many portraits that lined the gallery.

‘Are all these your relatives?’

‘Every single one.’

‘Wow, you know I don’t even know who my dad is,’ Angela reminded her. ‘Mum’s got her suspicions it was somebody she met at a pop concert, but she doesn’t really remember.’

Emilia grinned. ‘We can go back six generations quite easily.

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