Page 9 of A Secret In The Garden

I was unsure if my irritation stemmed from the spirited environment of this space or the pressure I felt to conquer it, but something about Jasper Blackwood gave me the feeling of metal shavings crawling under my skin.

“The water feature is a part of the garden. You can fix it. Anything you need, tell Sowerby and he will procure it, within reason obviously.”

My polite veneer flickered, and I scowled at the man.

There couldn’t be more than twenty feet between us, but it was filled with a challenging, confusing air, a weird tension that I couldn’t put my finger on. It had cracked like lightning the day we met, before either of us had spoken a word. I didn’t like it—it made me off balance and uncertain.

Did he feel it too? Was he causing it on purpose, with his intimidating aura? Whatever it was, it was uncomfortable and creepy.

“Did Sour—Sour.” Sourpuss is not the butler’s name. That is NOT IT. Do. Not. Say. Sourpuss. “Sour—” I stared blankly at Jasper.

Instead of offering me any help with Evil Alfred’s real name, his face hardened. “Yes?” he pushed.

I looked like a complete idiot. I needed to say something. Don’t you dare, Eliza, that’s for your thoughts only. Don’t say Sourpuss. “Evil Alfred—” OHMYGOD. Just keep talking. Don’t acknowledge it. “Is there a gas line in the conservatory by chance?” I asked, unable to believe I’d just said that out loud.

“Evil Alfred? Like Batman’s Alfred?” he asked with a tone as heavy as a hammer. “Sowerby will be thrilled with the comparison, I’m sure.”

My face heated. “Please don’t tell him that I called him that. I have a hard time with names, and I⁠—”

“I’m afraid that is simply out of the question now.” His handsome mouth widened, and a flash of perfect white teeth showed, softening the hard lines of his face and morphing it into something different…something lethal. It came and left so fast that I wasn’t sure if I’d imagined it. His face was back to looking stern and cold.

I cleared my throat and wrote off whatever had just contorted his face—he was probably reveling in my humiliation. “Do as you please, but keep in mind I still have to work with him for the next three months,” I said as I returned my attention to the plants. It was much safer and less confusing on the plants.

To my surprise, he kneeled next to me and watched as I carefully checked a small patch of dandelions before pulling them from the compacted ground. My hands shook with the attention. I wanted to crawl into one of the dark corners and disappear. Why was he still here?

A fresh, aquatic cologne scent gently mingled with the earthy soil in a pleasant blend.

“I’m Batman,” he stated after a few minutes of silence. Everything about him was completely unreadable. I couldn’t tell if he was threatening me or telling a joke. The tension in the room had crept to a level I’d never experienced.

“Four out of ten. Michael Keaton’s voice is significantly deeper. Try Affleck or Clooney,” I returned stone-faced, keeping my eyes on the plants, though I caught a flash of movement in my periphery.

“If my butler is Evil Alfred, does that not make me Batman? Even I acknowledge we have a fair bit in common…” Was he teasing me or being serious?

“I most definitely do not call you Batman in my head. Many, many other things, but not Batman.” Ohmygod. He’s going to throw me out of the conservatory right now.

“In truth, the similarities really are uncanny, between Batman and me.”

In an uncharacteristically bold move—he seemed to bring it out in me—I put my cultivator down and turned my full attention to him. “You both have a penchant for capes and tights?”

He stood and brushed the dirt from his tailored black pants. “I was thinking more along the lines of us both being wealthy orphans,” he replied, raising a dark brow.

Wealthy orphans? Had it been anybody else, I probably wouldn’t have hesitated to ask more questions, but I was too afraid to prod—Batman wasn’t rumored to have killed his parents—and frankly, I was having a hard time figuring out what my stomach butterflies were doing.

“You think this will take three months to complete?” he asked with a hint of something in his voice that I couldn’t place.

“As I’m required to do it alone, yes.” I shot him a look, surprised yet again by my own brazenness. “To be honest, three months is quite a tight guess as it is, but I’m incredibly motivated by the corpse flower’s state,” I said, standing up, tired of feeling his presence towering over me.

“A corpse flower?” His dark brows wrinkled together.

Embarrassingly ecstatic to finally be able to talk about it, I practically skipped over to the center bed and methodically stepped in with gentle tiptoes, moving about some of the living and dead chaos that shielded the Titan arum. “This is a corpse flower. It’s incredibly rare. Most of them have died off in the last decade. They used to be found more readily, but now even the most renowned botanical gardens struggle to possess one. It only blooms every seven to ten years, if you’re lucky, and sometimes it goes completely dormant or goes through a leaf cycle where it produces a single, massive, umbrella-like leaf with no flower. Even in its blooming cycle, the singular, large bloom only lasts twenty-four hours,” I said excitedly. I reached in my pocket for my phone to show him a picture of a bloom, but remembered it was impossible with my lack of service and pushed it back in.

Noticing the movement, he said, “I can set you up with service for the time you’re here. Give your phone carrier and information to…Evil Alfred and he will sort it out for you.” Light from the sunset sparkled in his dark eyes. “Why is it called a corpse flower?” he asked, deep voice rasping against me.

I watched him for a second. “Because when it does bloom, it emits a horrible odor that closely mimics the scent of dead, rotting flesh.”

Jasper’s mouth curved with dark amusement.

“I am going to do everything in my power to time the completion of this conservatory with the bloom, so my colleagues will get the opportunity to see and appreciate it during the grand party that was promised before I leave,” I said, unable to disguise my pride at the thought.