Chapter 31 #2
To me, there was no other place for Hester than back in the garden she loved so dearly. She deserved to be at peace among the moss and vines like she’d always wanted.
“I am, but are you comfortable with her being here?” he asked.
I felt the creases tighten around my eyes as I smiled at his thoughtfulness. “Why would it matter if I’m comfortable with it? It’s your home.”
“Because it matters.” Jasper’s voice tickled across the back of my neck and shoulders. “This is your garden now.”
When I turned to face him, he was pulling a small velvet ring box from the inside pocket of his jacket and bending down on one knee—the position he had been in when he found the locket. It was why Hester had looked down and winked at me.
“Eliza, will you marry me?”
I froze, my breath catching in my throat as I stared at Jasper.
His words, the meaning of them, settling slowly into my heart like the quiet stillness after a storm.
For a moment, I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t move.
All I could do was look at him—at the man who had given me love when I didn’t know how much I needed it.
His eyes were soft with vulnerability, his hand still holding the ring box, trembling ever so slightly as if he, too, was unsure of my answer. But I could see the hope in his eyes, the same hope that had carried us both through the most challenging times.
I took a slow step toward him, my pulse thrumming in my ears. The conservatory was still warm with the fragrance of Chanel No. 5 and earth. It felt like the world was holding its breath. Then, I lowered myself to one knee just as he had done.
“Yes,” I whispered, the word breaking free from the tightness in my chest. “Yes, I’ll happily marry you.”
The smile that spread across his face was more beautiful than I had ever seen from him, and in that moment, I knew I was home—not just in the manor, not just in the garden, but in his arms. He slid the ring onto my finger with a tenderness that made my heart swell.
Then, he pulled me into his arms, kissing me deeply as though we had both waited lifetimes for this moment. Because we had.
When we finally pulled apart, we stood there for a long moment, and the wind picked up again, the leaves fluttering around us in a joyful, gentle applause.
“I think she’s happy now,” I said softly, glancing down at the empty patch of soil, still tender with the memory of Hester.
Jasper squeezed my hand, his voice thick with emotion. “I know she is.” He smiled, but there was a bittersweetness in his eyes, the kind that only love, loss, and healing can bring.
We looked down at the patch of soil again. It was time.
Together, we dug a small hole in the earth, the soil warm under our hands, the scent of the garden thick in the air. The sounds of the conservatory seemed to fade as if the world itself was returning her with us.
When the ground was ready, he handed me the urn. I took it from him, my hands trembling. I looked at him, a question in my eyes.
“It’s where she belongs,” he said, his voice a quiet certainty.
Together, we carefully poured her ashes into the earth of the garden, the delicate dust mingling with the soil. I hesitated for a moment, holding the locket in my hand, then slowly, reverently, I placed it in her ashes.
As I did, the locket clicked open.
Inside, nestled in the delicate folds of the locket, was a small round seed—one I hadn’t seen before.
It was a deep shade of green, almost translucent, with a faint shimmer to it, like it held some kind of hidden magic.
My heart raced. Jasper looked at the seed in wonder, and together, we gently placed it into the soil, covering it up carefully.
The moment was sacred—we were part of something bigger, something mysterious.
“She’s…she’s still with us,” I said, my voice trembling.
Jasper’s hand found mine again, and he squeezed it tightly. “I think it’s her way of giving us something new. Something beautiful one last time.”
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Months passed, and the memory of that quiet moment in the conservatory stayed with me. The garden continued to thrive, growing more lush and vibrant with each passing day, but the empty plot held our attention the most. We kept an eye on it, watching the soil, waiting.
And then, one day, we saw it.
A small shoot had sprouted. At first, it seemed like any other plant, but we noticed something extraordinary as it grew. The leaves were delicate and heart-shaped, soft to the touch, their edges curling inward as if cradling a secret.
Then the flowers bloomed.
They were unlike anything I could identify—tiny heart-shaped petals in a warm blush of dark red, veined with black, and the unmistakable scent of Chanel No.
5. It was as if the essence of Hester’s love and spirit had taken root in the earth, blooming in a form that was both beautiful and unexpected.
Jasper stood beside me, his hand in mine, as we looked at the new life that had sprung from the soil, the plant blooming with such delicate grace. He leaned in and whispered, “She’s here, isn’t she?”
My voice was thick with emotion. “She’s always here.”