CHAPTER 1
BOOK 10, WEDDING SPELLS
I had dated many unsuitable men in my time. Thieves, bigots, Librans—not a single one rode a motorbike, which I felt rather defeated the point of dating an unsuitable man. Now, I was going to marry my soul mate: Alder Vervain. He brought me coffee in the morning; he showed kindness to everyone, and he was a Virgo. He was perfect, which is why it confused me when Ruprecht mentioned a secret garden.
Secret garden?
Who cared about a secret garden! Did secret gardens have cute butts? Did secret gardens wear cool jackets and have dangerous smiles? Did secret gardens buy me ice cream and take spiders outside and rub my feet after I spent five minutes trying to run on the treadmill while watching dating shows I pretended never to watch? No.
“How come I’ve never seen it before?” I put my hand on my hips and fixed Ruprecht with my best glare, pretending I wasn’t thinking about ice cream and foot rubs.
Ruprecht shrugged one shoulder. “It’s a secret garden.” His lips twitched. After a long pause, he stood aside and allowed me to enter through the heavy wooden gates.
Then it hit me why Ruprecht was talking about gardens: Alder and I had planned to marry in a garden, but I hadn’t found a suitable garden to date, and neither had my wedding planner, a fellow witch by the name of Prudence Pringle.
I didn’t know whether to be annoyed Ruprecht had kept the garden’s existence from me, or whether I should be pleased he had offered it for our wedding.
I had considered using my own garden, but was concerned that my long-deceased grandparents—my grandmother who could become the house, and my grandfather who lived in the garden amidst the trailing wisteria and the purple blossoms of the buddleia trees—might get carried away and do something to shock the guests.
Prudence pushed past me. “It’s perfect, Ruprecht!” With that, she hurried off to inspect the garden.
I rounded on Mint. “Did you know about your grandfather’s secret garden?”
“Of course,” she said. “I used to play in it as a child. Thyme didn’t know, though.”
Thyme shook her head vigorously, no doubt expecting a scolding from me.
I had to admit, the garden was stunning. A little courtyard garden sat just off Ruprecht’s kitchen, but I had never guessed he had another, expansive garden. I was touched that he would allow the townsfolk in there, not that we had invited many people. Alder and I had no living relatives.
The garden stood in stark contrast to Ruprecht’s combination antique and book store. The store harboured a variety of antiques, from an ancient Egyptian scarab bead to a Louis XIV inlaid armoire, and every manner of arcane object, such as alchemical athanors.
The garden exuded whimsy and was clearly heavily influenced by Alice in Wonderland. Several bird feeders formed from giant tea cups sat at intervals on the manicured lawns. The one nearest to me was made from five giant teapots on saucers, the top one a bright red teapot with a giant yellow sunflower emblazoned across its face.
There were several other similar pieces all fashioned into bird feeders. All bird feeders were made from quaint teapots, some in dainty florals and others in garish colours. Brightly coloured red and green rosellas happily picked from the seed lying on the ground. A massive wooden table sat under a hedge in the shape of a sofa, and was surrounded by glossy yellow iron chairs. I figured the Mad Hatter himself would feel at home here. I sat on a red bench seat surrounded by giant purple pansies, on paving comprised of black and white squares.
I rubbed my forehead when giant, metal clock sculptures hanging from the hedge to my left caught my eye. Perhaps I was hallucinating or in a dream. Had I by some magical means fallen into the world of Alice in Wonderland?
I shook my head to clear it. And that’s when a giant white rabbit wearing a waistcoat hopped towards me.
