Page 5 of A Sight to Behold
They’d entered the estate through a garden that resembled a park more than a private yard and continued their walk until they reached a one-story glass house with tall windows.
“This is my orangery,” she said as she turned a doorknob and led the way into the building. “Really, it’s my mother’s orangery. Well, it was hers. I inherited it of sorts.”
“Why did you hesitate?” Nick asked.
She squinted as if the inheritance wasn’t completed but there was such pain in her gaze that Nick decided not to probe further as she hung her pelisse on a hook on the wall and pulled on an apron, once white but now covered with yellow stains.
Stepping out of the crisp park and into the warm orangery, Nick was immersed in a verdant paradise, an oasis of tranquility. The orangery was radiant with sunlight streaming through the glass panes, casting myriad shadows to dance on the stone-tiled floor. Two elongated raised flower beds stretched out before him, brimming with an exotic array of tropical plants. Their leaves, a vibrant spectrum of emerald, jade, and olive, shimmered as they basked in the sun’s warmth. Majestic palms in large clay pots were arranged along the wall and towered above, their fronds forming a natural tapestry against the glass ceiling. Glossy ferns and vibrant bromeliads nestled below, their lush textures contrasting with the rough-hewn stone of the raised beds. It was hot, damp indeed, and Nick wished he could take his coat off, roll his sleeves up, and lay her on a bench.
Stop! She’s a lady and taboo.
“There you are, Truffles.” She bent down as a little brown bunny hopped onto her arms. Chromius strained at the end of his leash and gave a happy, excited bark. Pippa continued speaking to her rabbit. “Have you eaten too much?” She turned to Nick. “He’s getting heavier every day.”
Nick shortened the leash as he noticed that the little brown bunny only had three legs. But he moved well and swiftly, albeit he was now nestling into Pippa’s arms. A good safe place, no doubt.
“He’s named after my favorite chocolates, truffles. Sir Truffles Hoppington.”
She was too adorable for words. Nick checked his pocket watch again. He had to leave soon but he didn’t want to leave the side of this fascinating beauty who’d taken him home with her without regard for propriety.
“What happened to him?” Nick couldn’t help but notice the stump that was Truffle’s left front paw. He touched the stump, which looked well healed and was certainly not due to a fresh injury. “He’s missing the metatarsal, the little bones of the paw,” Nick said.
Pippa’s eyes locked with his, and she studied him, looking at him with a slight squint. “I found him in a fox trap in the garden two years ago. He was a baby and squealed.”
“Poor bunny. Rabbits only make loud noises like that when they are in grave distress.”
Her eyes brimmed with tears. “Yes, so I got him out of the trap and brought him here. There was so much medicine left over from my mother, I used whatever I could find. He seems to have forgotten that he ever lived anywhere else but with me.”
Nick could see how comfortable the bunny was in Pippa’s arms, nestling against her chest. Smart little creature.
“He’s lucky to have you.”
“Except that he eats too much here. I cannot let him out, and he’s munching all day.” She set him down. Truffles appeared to flick an ear at Chromius and give him a scornful look before he hopped away.
Nick didn’t know much about rabbits, but this one did look a bit chubby, with a wide, fluffy belly. Soon Truffles was happily nibbling on some tiny leaves. Chromius seemed to realize that he wasn’t going to any closer to him, and panting, lay down like a little Sphinx, head raised, paws outstretched. Watchful.
In this secluded haven, their whispered conversations danced amidst the sunlight that filtered through the leaves, casting playful shadows upon their faces. The air was thick with the intoxicating scent of the tropics—the sweet perfume of blooming orchids, the tangy aroma of citrus fruits ripening on dwarf trees, and the earthy fragrance of damp soil. It was a symphony of scents from a far-off forest like in Felix’s stories. Yet, Nick was in London. And the only magical and enchanting effect was the one Pippa had on him.
Every time he addressed her asPippa, a rush of warmth washed over him, a potent reminder of their shared connection. But, at the same time, the name felt too intimate for someone with his station to use for a woman of her status. It wasn’t merely her noble heritage that gave him pause, but the delicate beauty and her smile that intimidated and fascinated Nick at the same time. Although a part of him yearned to respect her station and address her as Lady Philippa, to uphold the proper decorum, he could only think about tracing the contours of her face with his fingertips.
To his left, a wall fountain burbled melodically from a plain tap, its soothing cadence the only sound in this serene sanctuary. The water sparkled like diamonds under the soft sunlight, providing a cooling respite for the surrounding plants. This was a place of solitude, a place to contemplate and admire nature’s bounty.
In the midst of this serenity, Pippa froze, tilted her head as if listening hard to something, and then darted to a raised garden bed partially hidden behind potted palms a few steps away, where little green plants stretched pairs of two leaves each no more than an inch into the air. “Not the sprouts!” She ordered fiercely and shooed Truffles away. He hopped out from behind the palms, greenery hanging from his whiskered lips. “Bad bunny.Badbunny!”
Nick burst into laughter. She was too sweet as she told the bunny off. It hopped off toward the right of their position, to another low, green bed.
But then, he realized, she didn’t follow him there. Instead, she looked in the wrong direction, directing her attention to a different place completely apart from the brown bunny. In fact, she appeared to be speaking what was only a pile of dry soil.
His stomach fell. What was wrong with her? She’d been perfectly delightful, and now she was having a conversation with garden dirt a similar shade of brown. Did she think the soil was alive? Did she think itwasher bunny?
Nick felt as if he was being punched as he watched her trailing her hands over the sprouts. She slowly but deliberately patted the tiny plants and inhaled when she shut her eyes. She was feeling for something. Nick knew that people derived all sorts of energy from plants, but he’d never seen this, except when he had a patient who…and then he understood. It made perfect sense.
She hadn’t seen him at thepatisserie, he’d been too close. She knew her way around London, because she walked toward the points in the distance, but she couldn’t see the rabbit when it was closer than a meter from her. Nor could she see the sprouts in the soil and how many of their budding leaves that the rabbit had gnawed off.
“Hyperopia!” Nick blurted out.
She stopped her perusal of the little plants, straightened her back, and turned to cast him a fierce look. “I beg your pardon?”
*
