Tides of deception ✺ Outlander/Stephen Bonnet Fanfic

♤33. The secret garden

Later that morning, a soft knock sounded at the door. The chambermaid entered, balancing a silver tray laden with fresh bread, sliced fruit, and steaming tea. She was a young woman with a round, cheerful face framed by curls of blonde hair pinned neatly at the sides. Her kind expression softened as she placed the tray on the table beside Stephen.

"The Duke sends his regards," she murmured with a respectful curtsy. "He wishes for you both to stay in comfort for as long as needed. You have free access to the ballroom, the gardens, and the tea room. Should you need anything, please ring the bell."

Stephen offered her a grateful nod, quietly observing her thoughtfulness. "Thank you," he replied, his voice low and steady. "Could you also send a message to my crew on the Gloriana? Inform them of the delay due to Lady Maria's illness."

The maid nodded, pressing her hand to her chest in acknowledgment before slipping from the room with swift, silent steps.

Stephen turned back to Maria, who lay peacefully asleep, her breathing now steady and her face more at ease than it had been in the early hours of the morning. His gaze lingered on her for a moment, reassured by her calmer expression. When he was satisfied she'd found a bit of rest, he sat down to the breakfast tray and ate, the quiet clinking of silverware against porcelain filling the room as the first rays of morning filtered through the window. After eating, he washed up and dressed, pulling on a dark waistcoat and trousers before he left the room, deciding to explore the gardens mentioned by the maid.

As he stepped into the corridor and made his way through the winding passages of the grand château, he noted the elegance of its architecture. Tall archways framed with carved stone seemed to tower overhead, creating a cathedral-like atmosphere. Paintings of French nobility adorned the walls, their expressions stern and dignified, watching with unreadable eyes as he passed by. A faint echo of laughter drifted from somewhere distant in the château, mingling with the soft melodies of a harpsichord being played nearby.

Finally, he reached a set of heavy wooden doors that opened out into the gardens. The scene that greeted him was like stepping into another world entirely. The gardens sprawled out before him, vibrant with the colors of late spring-lush green hedges bordered flower beds filled with peonies, foxgloves, and roses in every shade, their blooms spilling over in a riot of color and fragrance. Delicate petals glistened with morning dew, catching the sunlight that was just beginning to warm the cool morning air.

High, neatly trimmed hedges created pathways that twisted and wound through the gardens, forming secluded corners and hidden alcoves. Statues of mythological figures peeked out from the hedges, their marble faces weathered yet serene, lending the garden a touch of mystery. Stephen's boots crunched lightly along the gravel paths as he wandered, hands tucked behind his back, taking in the intricate beauty of the place. A distant fountain murmured softly, its gentle trickle blending with the birdsong that filled the air.

As he rounded a corner, he came upon a secluded patch shaded by tall cypress trees, where a small stone bench rested beside a patch of wildflowers. He paused, drawn in by the quiet simplicity of the scene, and sat down on the bench, gazing out over the garden as the morning breeze brushed past. Here, in the serene calm of the château's gardens, he allowed himself a moment to breathe, the weight of recent days easing in the peaceful solitude of nature.

As Stephen sat in the quiet shade of the cypress trees, the tranquil solitude felt like a balm to his mind. The morning air was cool, carrying the scent of nearby blooms, and for a moment, he let his thoughts drift back to Maria, resting peacefully inside. He knew he'd stay with her as long as needed, though this quiet moment alone was a welcome reprieve.

A faint rustle behind him pulled him back to the present. He turned, and there, just beyond the veil of hedges, stood Julie. She had followed him, her presence both unexpected and oddly familiar, as though she were part of the garden's mysteries.