Garden Princess by Kristin Kladstrup Read Free Book Online

one blue, leaning over a lily of the valley with bell-shaped flowers the size of thimbles. How does Hortensia do it? Adela wondered.
    Best of all was the rose tree. She found it in an enclosed yard where there were no other flowers to vie for her attention. The tree was twice as tall as she was, and the air around it was thick with the scent of its spectacular red flowers. Adela reached up to touch one of the blooms, caressing petals as soft as her brother Henry’s little face. She closed her eyes, breathing in the fragrance. It wasn’t until she opened her eyes that she noticed the thorns.
    She stepped back. “Garth always says you can tell a rose by its thorns,” she murmured.
    She wondered if Garth had seen the tree. It was strange that she hadn’t come across him. Stranger still that she hadn’t met anyone at all. How long had she been walking?
    Adela left the enclosed yard. She called out, “Hello? Hello!”
    She listened. How quiet it was here! In the garden at home, there were always sounds — birds singing, bees humming, flies buzzing. And at this time of day, especially at this time of year, you would expect to hear a few crickets chirping.
    Maybe the party was on the lawn or inside the house. But someone — Garth or Marguerite — ought to have come looking for her. . . . Adela let out a sigh of exasperation. Those two were so wrapped up in each other, they had probably forgotten she was here.
    Purposefully, she started down the path in what she hoped was the direction of the garden entrance — or exit, as she now thought of it. She turned one corner after another until it occurred to her that the marble bench ahead of her looked familiar. Hadn’t she already passed it once?
    Adela sat down. I’m going in circles, she thought. I’m lost and nobody has thought to come find me. Marguerite and Garth are in their own little world. I don’t blame Bess for giving up on me. But I hope Axel will think of me when it’s time to go home.
    Which it would be soon. The shadows were growing longer and the air cooler with the approach of twilight. Adela listened to the stillness, trying to think what to do, when something brushed against her hand. She looked down to see a cluster of pinkish-orange blossoms. There were other clusters, all of them rising up on tall stalks from a fat cushion of green and maroon leaves with scalloped edges. Coral bells, she thought, pleased with herself for recognizing the flower. There was an identical plant at the other end of the bench, the pair of them forming a pretty frame for anyone who sat there.
    Then Adela looked closer. Draped among the leaves of one of the plants, almost hidden from sight, was a necklace, its coral beads the same color as the flowers. “Coral bells and coral beads,” she murmured. She had seen the twins wearing coral necklaces earlier. One of them must have dropped hers.
    Adela untangled the necklace — a tricky job, for she didn’t want to harm the plant. She had just pulled the beads free when she heard voices.

The voices were coming from the other side of the wall behind Adela.
    “A pretty girl like you must have a string of admirers,” said a woman’s voice.
    “I suppose there are a few,” said the second voice, high and rather sugary.
    Marguerite, thought Adela.
    “I’m sure you’re being modest,” said the other woman. “I met a young man earlier today who I’m sure must be smitten with you.”
    “Really?”
    “That nice young gardener . . .”
    “You mean Garth! You saw him? Where?”
    “I must say, he is every bit as handsome as I thought he would be,” said the woman. “One hears about such things, you know.”
    What an odd thing to say, thought Adela. She had been about to call out, to announce her presence. But there was something not quite right about the unknown woman: Adela could hear it in her voice. Quietly, she climbed up on the bench, the marble cold against her feet. Standing on tiptoe, she could just see over the top