Crystal Gardens Read Free Page B

Roman antiquities in the vicinity.
    Irene had folded her arms on the glass counter with a speculative air. She was a spinster in her late thirties. Evangeline was sure that Irene’s failure to marry had nothing to do with her looks. She was an attractive, well-educated woman with an excellent figure, dark hair, blue eyes and a fine sense of style. The fashionable silver spectacles chatelaine she wore at her waist to hold her eyeglasses was decorated with delicately engraved butterflies and lovely turquoise stones.
    Irene would have been nothing short of ravishing at the marriageable age of eighteen or nineteen, Evangeline thought. But looks and intelligence were not always sufficient when it came to the business of marriage, because marriage was a business transaction and everyone knew it. Social status and money mattered far more than true love and the metaphysical connection between lovers that the sensation novelists celebrated in their stories.
    “So that’s the new owner of the Gardens,” Irene said. “Not quite what everyone expected. At least he did not appear to be mad like his uncle.”
    Evangeline blinked. “What on earth do you mean?”
    “You’re new around here,” Irene said. “But surely you’ve heard some of the tales and legends about the Gardens?”
    “Yes, but I wasn’t aware that the former owner was mad,” Evangeline said. She hesitated. “Well, I must admit that my daily maid did say that Chester Sebastian was notoriously eccentric.”
    Irene chuckled. “A polite word for mad as a hatter. Chester Sebastian was, however, a brilliant botanist and I, for one, will sorely miss him.”
    “Why is that?”
    “He was a very good customer. I was able to locate several rare volumes and prints of botanical subjects for him. Price was no object. However, not everyone here in Little Dixby took such a charitable view of Chester Sebastian. I have been assured by no less an authority than Arabella Higgenthorp, the director of the local gardening club, that Sebastian conducted all sorts of what she calls unnatural horticultural experiments in the Gardens.”
    Evangeline thought about the strange energy she had sensed on the grounds of the abbey. “What do you think Mrs. Higgenthorp meant by unnatural?”
    “People claim that Sebastian mixed the occult arts and the science of botany with disastrous results.”
    “Oh, for heaven’s sake. What nonsense.”
    “Don’t be so certain of that.” Irene widened her eyes in a mockingly melodramatic manner and lowered her voice to a stage whisper. “The locals are convinced that Chester Sebastian’s death was caused by some of the dark supernatural forces that he unleashed in his gardens.”
    “Ridiculous,” Evangeline said. But she had sensed some dangerous currents of power on the grounds of Crystal Gardens. It was not beyond the realm of possibility that Chester Sebastian had been done in by one of his psychical botanical experiments.
    Irene smiled. “Of course it’s all nonsense but the story fits in nicely with other local legends. Visitors love that sort of thing.”
    Evangeline was amused. “And they tend to purchase guidebooks and maps that feature those thrilling local legends?”
    “Yes, indeed. The tale of the lost treasure of Crystal Gardens in particular has been especially good for business.”
    “What treasure is that?”
    “A hoard of Roman gold is said to be buried somewhere on the grounds of the old abbey.” Irene wrinkled her nose. “But if you want my opinion, it was most likely discovered years ago, if it ever existed.”
    “No doubt.” Evangeline looked out the window again but Lucas was nowhere in sight.
    Irene followed her gaze. She stopped smiling. “In all seriousness, they do say there is a strain of madness in the family.”
    “Indeed?”
    “According to the local gossip Chester Sebastian claimed to have paranormal talents.” Irene made a dismissive movement with one hand. “One would have to be either delusional