The Secret in the Garden

The Secret in the Garden

by

J. G. Hampton

The Secret in the Garden by J.G. Hampton; Smashwords edition by J.G. Hampton 2013. Please purchase this fictional e-book edition before downloading at Smashwords.com and respect the hard work as well as time of this author. Additional copies make great gifts for friends and relatives. If you enjoyed reading Frances H. Burnett's timeless The Secret Garden, you'll love The Secret in the Garden written to be enjoyed by readers of all ages. Get a life--read.

Chapter One - Butterflies

Lennox, Lord Wickham, couldn’t believe the e-mail he had received. The two Remington twins, Marianne and Marijane , known for some bizarre reason by their odd nicknames of pear and peach, and Molly and Mamie, would be dumped on him that afternoon. They would be arriving shortly from New York City via an intercontinental flight. His chauffeur, Herbert, had already been sent to collect them. So what if he was the twins' closest living relative? Helena, Montana! He was after all a bachelor. The inconvenience to him was more than a trifling matter.

One of them, the oldest girl, was his heiress presumptive to his ancient manor and estate. Thanks to England’s law of primogeniture, only one person could inherit, in order to prevent large estates from being broken up into match book sized parcels of land.

His third cousin, their mother, Marielle Remington, had no right to saddle her daughters on him, even if she had developed a rare complication of the flu. Didn’t she have any other female friends who were capable and better suited to the task? He was hardly cut out to play the role of Father Goose to two eight year old females.

As an alpha male and suspected woman hater, he was not suited to playing nursemaid, despite his fifty years of age. He enjoyed being the lord of his manor, nicknamed Mistletoe Manor, because of its enormous vine sucking upkeep and he planned on keeping it that way, but at this point in his life, he knew one didn’t always get one's own way. Identical twins would no doubt be hazardous to his health. What was he supposed to do with two young girls of the opposite sex? He knew nothing about the care and keeping of females. In fact, their mother, Marielle, had been the only one he’d known closely during his long ago childhood, when she shared his manor with him during his summers off from Grotham Boarding school. The two had become the best of friends and they’d been as close as a brother and sister; (according to what he observed from his friend's relationships with their sisters, closer). But then, during his sixteenth summer, her mother, Isabelle Lennox Castleton, had remarried and took her to New York. At the time, he’d felt as if one of his arms had been cut off and his heart had ached dully as if a giant’s hand was squeezing it. He realized that he’d lost someone he’d loved.

The two of them had corresponded regularly for a few years, once a month, and then the letters had stopped when she was twenty-three. Marielle, had attended Yale University and graduated with honors; she’d been very popular on campus; he jealously remembered. The last he’d heard from Marielle, his Ella, who was the Cinderella of his heart, was the invitation to her posh, society wedding which he hadn’t attended. Why should he miss his entrance examinations for medical school to see the love of his life, marry another man? That was simply something he could not and would not do.

After that, he’d walled off his heart so that it would never be hurt again. Receiving a long distance phone call from her, he remembered running into the mansion. Was she in trouble? Breathlessly, she informed him that she’d just delivered identical twin girls.

Congratulations, Marielle, somehow, you always managed to have double the luck and double the fun; you’ve done it again. Just imagine, two babies for the price of one! You always were an over achiever. said Lennox with a laugh through the phone while he swallowed a lump in his throat as large as Cuba.

Lennox,you’re the first one, I’ve told of my doubly good tidings. She’d asked him if he’d let her borrow the heirloom christening gown that they’d both worn on their christening day made of priceless handmade Honiton lace. Instead, he’d bought the babies twin christening gowns and tiny golden lockets with his picture inside with a note attached which read: "Your daughters need to create their own heirlooms and traditions dear heart. Marielle had asked him to be her daughters’ god father. Their own father, a PhD candidate, had disappeared from the scene six months after her marriage and gone off to Egypt on a search for the missing link and had never bothered to return. Obvious fossil finds and alcohol were more important than their marriage and impending fatherhood.

By now, Lennox had no use for the opposite sex, with the exception of Potty, his housekeeper. They would interfere with his scientific research and his writing. In his spare time, he was a bestselling author of detective stories and for a living he was a medical researcher who survived on research grants. He was searching for the cure for Multiple Sclerosis. Currently he was trying to pinpoint which genes were involved in the horrendous debilitating disease, not an easy task.

Lennox enjoyed being grouchy, disgruntled, and eccentric as well as being a bachelor. He enjoyed his dark hair and didn’t want it prematurely going grey because of the shenanigans of two young girls who’d been foisted on him. Hadn’t Marielle any other compassionate minded female relatives or friends he could pawn them off on? That evening he would get on the Internet and explore for another more, amiable and compassionate relative. There must be others out there if he could only pin them down.

However, he knew the Lennox forebears weren’t overly productive. The fruit was

quality, but not abundantly produced, with the exception of Marielle’s double whammy, twins were a rarity on the family tree. The writer would have to review his genealogical charts and find another relative to rescue him perhaps his cousin Edwin, third in line to inherit his estate, would be amenable, but he'd never liked the obsequious narcissistic self server, but what did that have to do with anything? Did he have to like the man who took the twins off his hands?

The twins' mother, Marielle, had been a roving reporter for a news agency. Now, she was extremely ill in America; perhaps she was even dying. Last he heard, she was in intensive care with round the clock nursing on life support machines. What if Marielle succumbed to her illness? The thought was one he couldn’t contemplate. She must pull through; he considered fatherhood a fate worse than death. Swallowing another cup of comforting tea, he rang for his housekeeper, Mrs. Potts. When the tidy, middle aged woman appeared he said: Millie, please fix up one of the second floor bedrooms as far away from mine as possible. It appears we are to have two female children staying with us indefinitely. he said most perturbed as if his feathers had been disturbed.

They’re my cousin Marielle’s twins from New York.

How wonderful! That’s just what this old mansion needs. The pitter patter of young children running through the corridors. said the stout woman wiping her wet hands on her apron while grinning broadly at him.

I’m much too set in my habits to adapt at my age. said her boss nervously grooming a nonexistent moustache he'd worn during his college days. This action alone made it apparent that he was deeply disturbed about the impending visit.

Nonsense, Lennox, children keep one young and you’re never too old to learn new tricks. The human body is capable of adapting to almost anything, dear, even fatherhood. Lennox jumped at these words as if he’d been scalded by a pot of boiling water. Potty, laughed aloud and ruffled his hair as if he was still a young boy.

Millie, see if you can’t bring some flowers into the house to pretty it up a bit and locate some of my toys from the attic along with anything else young females may need. I’ve no idea what they require, but the old manse is looking rather uninviting.

Why, sir, it's you who is looking uninviting, remember to smile at least once a day whether you want to or not dear. How thoroughly delightful it’s going to be. Children are just what you and the house need to bring it out of its doldrums. Don’t worry, about a thing. Cooking for four will not be much harder than cooking for you and Herbert." said the plump woman cheerily.

However, I need to remind you that I’m off to my grandson’s college graduation this weekend and won't be back until Wednesday. You will have to solo until I return. Perhaps, Herbert, can help.

Hell’s Bells! You can’t abandon me, now, Potty.

Relax, Lennox, somehow you’ll manage. Remember, you graduated from Oxford with honors, two children aren’t likely to flummox you. Remember, that you used to be a boy once yourself. said the woman with a laugh.

Just as long as they don’t get in my way, I have deadlines to meet with my publisher and I’m in the middle of a research project. They couldn’t be arriving at a worse time. said the lanky middle aged aristocrat.

Pshaw! Don’t fret about it, you're such a worry wart, dear, the two are probably used to playing together and in this house there's plenty to keep them busy and rooms to explore. said his housekeeper. Old Rodger, your collie, will ride herd on the pair of them. He’ll think he’s died and gone to heaven chasing young fillies about instead of dust bunnies and mice. Two girls are just what you four old bachelors need to bring a little spring back into your steps. They’re not likely to get underfoot nor in you hair, unless you want them to in this large place. I can hardly wait. I'm going to have so much fun. Sorry, Lennox, but you've turned into quite a bore. And you've become quite housebound."

Farting frogs! I like rattling around like the lone ball in a pinball machine in my mansion. Will I frighten the children? I hope so; I was frightened of my father and have always intended on frightening a few of my own offspring, but fatherhood has managed to elude me so far.

My grandchildren find you rather intimidating. said the grandmother. If that's any consolation and I don't know why it would be. Remember to smile at the girls every now and then. I hope you haven’t forgotten how, Lennox. Your smile’s a little rusty. Practice more often; it takes less muscles to smile than it does to frown. Your smile used to light up my sky, dear. said the matron smiling broadly at him. "Remember the old saying: Use it or lose it! That applies to smiles, talents, and brains, just like everything else, dear. Smile at least once a day whether you feel like it or not. Lennox gave her a rusty, but winsome smile as large as the Cheshire cat’s in Alice in Wonderland.

That's much better, dear heart. Your young cousins will have a ball searching through the old places if they don’t get lost. Just give them the keys to the greenhouse, the attics and the walled garden and they’ll disappear for hours making corsages and swinging on the old garden swing or mucking about and in winter building snow men or women along with igloos. A picnic there now and then in the garden or the conservatory wouldn’t hurt you, either. When was the last time you visited the garden, Lennox? I’ll set out the peanut butter and grape jelly and you all can fend for yourselves.

Perhaps, I’ll give them a section of the greenhouse so that they can expand their green thumbs, if they’ll agree to stay away from my prize orchids. said Lennox selfishly while smoothing back his dark glossy hair. This was something his staid father had never allowed him, perhaps that's why he had never warmed up to his patriarch and didn't shed a single tear at his passing. Did he want history to repeat itself with these cousins of his?

I’m developing a new type of orchid as well as a new striped rose. You will keep an eye on the plants won’t you as well as the twins? asked the bachelor. I'm so close and I believe my efforts are going to be hugely rewarding financially when I patent the flowers and sell them abroad. I'm almost making more money with my horticulture enterprises than with my writing. confessed Lord Wickham with a disarming wink. Mildred Potts melted like butter whenever he did this.

I’ll be happy to help out wherever I can dear; I seem to have a way with children. But you might try your hand at it; you might find you enjoy being a nanny. She saw a visible shudder run up his spine and his head jerked back as if he'd been hit by a bullet.

That’s hardly likely. he said with a low growl as if he were a black bear backed into his den. One didn't want to get on his bad side, but his snarl was worse than his bite she knew from having lived with him since his birth.

Remember, Lennox, the paying tourists come to visit the mansion on Saturdays and Sundays during October and November; that may be a problem having strangers milling around, but perhaps I can make arrangements with your neighbor, Lady Abercrombie, to keep the twins out of harm’s way as well as out of your hair. I understand she has a ten year old boy named Zach who is being schooled at home this year. Perhaps they can play over at her estate. said the housekeeper.

The pumpkin patch proved to be very lucrative when I offered an award of one thousand dollars for the best hand carved pumpkin. I photographed the entries and replicated the patterns and made a small fortune from the pumpkin carving book and kits which I sold worldwide from our Mistletoe Manor website. Our revenues went up tremendously especially with your take home version of dinner in a pumpkin for under fifteen dollars and your pumpkin shakes. We're a great team Millie, don't ever leave me. Millie gave him a hug and he kissed the top of her forehead in an uncharacteristic display of affection as well as emotion.

Woe is me! Now our well balanced ship is about to become unbalanced by a pair of female hooligans. I suppose boarding school is a possibility if the twins prove unbearable and I become their legal guardian. It didn’t do me any harm. said Lennox fondling his long side burns. But, I’ll jump that hurdle when I reach it. he said finally able to smile again. Millie had managed to dispel most of his fears about his twin houseguests.

Yes, dear, don’t upset the applecart needlessly. The twins aren’t even here yet.

Lennox went into his library to begin the final chapter on his manuscript, The Last Case of Sherlock Homely, but found that he was riddled with anxiety and found himself wandering up into one of the attics to locate any toys for children that might be hidden in its dark recesses. In the shadows on one of the shelves he pulled out several dolls and beside them were three trunks of doll clothes that probably belonged to his great grandmother, Mary. ‘Do girls in 2012 even play with dolls?’ He wondered. His youthful days had been spent riding about the estate on his pony and in his pony cart; but he no longer kept horses at the mansion. Their upkeep was too costly and he didn’t even have time for his favorite sport polo, or for his aristocratic friends. Spying an old doll house filled with tiny antique dolls, he carried his bounty down to the bedroom that Potty was dusting and then set them on the long upholstered leather bench at the end of the double canopy bed. The Victorian doll house fit perfectly on the mahogany table under the window. Peeking inside he saw that a family of small china dolls and their servants still resided there. The name Mary was embroidered on one of the blonde doll’s gown and the familiar name of one of his grandfathers. The male boy doll was wearing a tweed jacket and matching shorts. Lennox made out the name Boy embroidered on his woolen cap. A large wax headed baby doll wearing an elaborately stitched long dress edged in crocheted lace was placed on the bed in the middle of the pillows along with his other findings, his old Steiff teddy bear. How he loved sleeping with that bear cuddled in his arms as a boy while the wind blew fiercely outside causing the window panes to rattle and the shutters to moan. Metal roller skates, a clown doll, a microscope, and his old science lab set; were placed on a nearby window seat; perhaps the twins would find the playthings rather amusing.

He remembered when he almost set the kitchen on fire doing a science experiment involving some chemicals and sugar. Millie had headed to the cellar like a bat out of hell while he battled the flames. The smell of acrid smoke had taken a week to dissipate, but luckily his father had been away on business so his hide hadn't been tanned. He hoped the twins had well developed imaginations. If not, he might be up a creek without a paddle since there was no television in the mansion except for the tiny one that Potty brought with her and turned on while she baked on Mondays and washed on Wednesdays. Loathing television, having never had time for one in his busy past, he preferred reading and writing. When his mother’s old television set had worn out, he’d never bothered to replace it.

Potty, how does the room look? quizzed Lennox surveying the bedroom. He would have to rely heavily on Millie Potts to make arrangements for the girls’ creature comforts and the psychological aspects of their care.

"Well done, Lennox. You've a gentle streak in your makeup after