thirty-five
Dusk had fallen slowly on the island as if the sun were reluctant to set on the beauty of the sea.
The night brought a fresh breeze to Isabella’s cheeks as she stood in front of the open window in her bedroom. The lanterns shed a golden glow over the paths in the garden and the large terracotta amphorae filled with overflowing geraniums. She couldn’t see the secret garden from there, yet it should be right in front of her.
That garden held more than one secret.
Anthony entered the room, and a whiff of his clean scent reached her. She turned around, smiling. Her body started to tingle the closer he came. Another man would sport a smirk of triumph or confidence after today. Instead, his expression was shy and adorable and started butterflies in her stomach.
“Can’t sleep?” he said.
“I was wondering why I can’t see the secret garden from here. I should.”
“The secret garden is too close to the shore to be seen from here. I’ll show you the perfect spot.” He laced his fingers through hers and led her up the stairs.
They walked past the servants’ rooms to go to the top floor. He opened a door, revealing another flight of stairs going up. The passage gave way to a veranda closed by glass walls. Dust covered the floor, and white sheets were draped over chairs and sofas.
He closed the door behind them. “Another place where the servants don’t come. My grandfather wanted to turn the attic into a scenic sunroom, but he never finished the project, and Grandmama found the room impractical because of the steep stairs. But look.” He turned towards a corner. “You can see the statues we cleaned up.”
She craned her neck until she spotted the white marble of the statues shining in the moonlight. “Yes, how lovely!”
“Once the garden is all cleaned up, there will be a grand view from here.” He hugged her from behind, wrapping his strong arms around her. “I like that this room isn’t open to everyone so only we can enjoy the secret view.”
She rested her head on his chest, savouring the warmth and sense of safety he made her feel. Those feelings were better than the deep pleasure of a tumble.
They stood there, watching the moonlight shining over the Greek heroes in the garden and listening to the sea’s song.
“I want to give a ball here on Mytos,” he said. “I want to invite all the guests Grandmama couldn’t invite to our wedding.”
She craned her neck to stare at him. “Why?”
He lifted a shoulder. “Celebration. I want everyone to know how happy we are. Would you like that?”
He looked so hopeful that she wanted to make him happy, and the idea of a proper celebration, without the burden of her sadness, appealed to her.
“Yes. Let’s give a ball.”
“We’d better start sending the invitations. Some people are spending the summer not far from Mytos, but others will need a couple of weeks to come here. The warm weather and the large garden will make for a spectacular night.”
“It sounds wonderful.”
She couldn’t suppress a yawn. The day had been filled with too much excitement after the past dark weeks.
“You’re tired. Let’s go.” He hauled her up and gathered her in his arms.
She loved it when he held her like that.
He put her down after the first flight of stairs, a mischievous glint in his gaze. He jabbed a thumb in the direction of the lower floor. “Look at that.”
“What?” she asked.
“I want to try.” Grinning, he mounted the bannister of the next flight of stairs backwards.
“Anthony, it’s not a good idea. If you haven’t done it before, you can get hurt, and this flight of stairs is quite steep.”
“But a short one.”
“You can’t see properly.”
