As promised, the contract arrived the next evening, hand-delivered by the baron's housekeeper, Mi Kyung-Jin. Both Nana and Pop-Pop made a great deal about going over the paperwork with Waverly, which in and of itself was fairly simple. It listed her hours, pay, responsibilities, and term limits. She would even have the ability to purchase any materials necessary to complete the project—pending the baron's approval, of course.

Satisfied with what she was being offered, plus the fact she'd Googled the baron to ensure his legitimacy, Waverly signed the contract and reported to Bellbroke Castle two days later.

For her first day, she'd chosen a pair of well-worn, but clean jeans, a green cotton tank top, a green flannel button-down shirt, and a pair of comfortable brown work boots. She'd tied her hair up in a high ponytail, keeping most of the heavy locks away from her neck. It was going to be a hot one today, even being on a cliff overlooking the ocean.

A refurbished iron gate swung open automatically once she announced her arrival through the estate's new intercom system. As she walked down to the castle, backpack bouncing on her shoulders, lunch bag swinging from one hand, Waverly noticed a surge in activity: landscapers trimmed trees by the far stone wall; two men on industrial lawnmowers zoomed across the lawn; four more men were spread across the length of the driveway, evening it out and adding more gravel.

In all, the place was starting to look rather respectable.

Baron Francis and Ms Mi stood outside the main entrance to the manor, going over some plans with a contractor. The baron looked up as Waverly approached.

"Good morning, Ms Harris."

"Morning," she replied with a little bob of her head.

"You appear to be well-prepared," Baron Francis said, nodding at the backpack. "What are your plans for today?"

Did he think she was going to come empty-handed? Waverly's lips twitched humorously and she set the backpack down, pulling out an iPad tablet and a small package. "Well, first I want to get a layout of the whole garden. Also, I'll need to do a soil test." She waved the kit around for emphasis. "Will you be free sometime today to go over the results?"

Baron Francis glanced at his housekeeper; Ms Mi stared back, lifting one pencil-thin eyebrow. Waverly looked off to the side as a silent conversation passed between the two, trying to appear as if she wasn't actively paying attention.

The baron snorted and folded his arms. "Have I been that much of a pest, Kyung-Jin?"

"Only a little, sir," she replied evenly, pinching her forefinger and thumb together.

"Very well," he sighed, running a hand through his hair. Turning to Waverly, the baron said, "Do you mind me tagging along, Ms Harris?"

"Not at all!" Waverly told him brightly, putting the test kit back in her bag and slinging it over her shoulder. Bottles of distilled water bumped against her back. "That actually makes everything easier. We can go over your plans for the garden."

"Would it surprise you that I have no plans?" the baron asked somewhat sheepishly, tucking his hands into his pants pockets.

Ms Mi shook her head.

"Could I put this in your fridge?" Waverly asked, holding out the lunch bag.

The housekeeper glanced at the insulated bag and smiled politely. "I'll take it for you." After Waverly handed it over, Ms Mi gestured to the man they'd been talking to; together, they entered the manor, leaving Waverly and the baron alone outside.

Was she surprised? Yes, but he wouldn't be the first. She'd dealt with dozens and dozens of patrons with the same problem. Waverly told him as much, adding, "These issues usually have a way of solving themselves once we start talking about it. No worries." She flashed him her best customer service smile. That's why you hired me, right? Besides, she'd already saved images of other traditional English gardens to show him.

"I defer to your expertise," Baron Francis replied. "After you." He gestured towards the garden.

They walked down the path to the garden, one where a man was already hard at work pushing back the overgrowth and cleaning the stones. Waverly had downloaded an overhead view of the garden from Google and the design was fairly simple: two rough squares with the inner square broken up into four quarters. A circular garden—or fountain, Waverly couldn't be sure until she saw it up close—sat in the middle of the inner square. At the very back, abutting the cliff edge was a walled enclosure that gave Waverly serious The Secret Garden vibes.

Now that Waverly wasn't frantically looking for her grandmother's dog, she was able to properly assess the situation.

It wasn't good.

What wasn't overgrown was either dead or on its way there. Most of the ornamental grasses and flowers had long been choked out by weeds. Waverly could pick out a few hearty blossoms, but they were few and far between.

Their first stop was by the cluster of greater red-hot pokers on the outer edge of the garden. Waverly reached out and touched the tree on the trunk, letting her senses flow through the bark and deep into the root system. She sighed and turned to the baron. "How attached are you to this tree?"

He blinked and looked at the tree as if seeing it for the first time. "I've no affection for it. Why?"

Waverly frowned. "It's dying. The roots are too short to support it."

"Can you save it?"

"I wish," she told him truthfully. She never liked to give up, but, "I can coax growth out of seeds and young plants, maybe get an apple or two to grow if I concentrate hard enough, but that's the limit of my abilities. If you want to keep it, I can do some research and find a more powerful green witch ..."

Baron Francis shook his head. "Never mind. We'll just get rid of it."

"Cool," Waverly replied, making a note on her iPad. Just because she loved plants didn't mean she would try to save every little thing. Sometimes sacrifices had to be made. "Is there anything in here that you'd like to keep or are we starting from scratch?" She gestured with the iPad stylus to the outer square. Blitzing the whole place would get expensive—quickly.

"I, uh ..." Baron Francis's eyes slowly glazed over. "I don't know?"

Waverly chuckled softly. The poor man was so overwhelmed. She didn't blame him; the garden was probably at the very bottom of his renovation list. "How about this? I can point at a plant and you tell me if you like it or not. I even have pictures of traditional English gardens on my iPad, too." She selected one and turned the device towards him.

The baron's eyes narrowed as he peered at the picture. "I have no idea what any of those are."

Oh, boy. "Do you have a favorite flower? Or perhaps your mother or ... girlfriend ... has one?" She didn't want to assume, of course.

There was a pause and the baron blinked. After a moment he said, "I can't say I've ever asked my mother that question. And I don't have a ... girlfriend, so no help there."

Why did that admission make her feel happy? Cool it, Wavy, she told herself. He might be good-looking and rich, but that's all she knew.

Sensing that this was going to be one of her more difficult cases, Waverly unsoldered the backpack and set it on the ground. She unzipped it and pulled out a set of tests, a tiny spoon, a small lidded container, and a bottle of distilled water.

Baron Francis cocked his head and actually squatted down by her side. He picked up the bottle of distilled water and turned it over in his hands as she pulled apart one of the test kits. "What's this—a mobile laboratory?"

"No," she chuckled, spreading the kits on the weed-choked flagstones. "Just some soil kits I bought at Tesco. Cheap, but effective. If you want an in-depth analysis, we can always ship samples to a lab."

The baron folded his hands over his knees and looked around the beautiful desolation. "I have a feeling I might be better off starting from scratch."

"You may be right," Waverly noted, popping open the PH kit.

"It's that bad?"

Waverly set down the small spoon she'd just picked up. He seemed reasonable enough, so she felt comfortable being candid. "I could feel this place dying from the road," she told him.

"That bad, then," he mused, frowning thoughtfully.

She grabbed the spoon and started digging down several inches. "The soil might not be a complete loss. Depending on the results, we might just need to strike a balance without digging everything up and putting down new dirt." She paused and looked at him. "Do you like the layout as it is or do you want it changed?"

Baron Francis laughed wryly. "At this point, I think I'm better off keeping it the way it is."

Waverly nodded and scooped out a small portion of dirt. She poured some into one side of the little test container, then dumped the contents of a color-coded capsule in after it. "Water, please?" she asked, extending her hand.

"Oh, yes, of course." The baron passed her the bottle.

Waverly smiled and cracked the top, using the pipette from the test kit to draw out a small amount. She squeezed the water into the same side of the kit as the dirt and capsule powder, capped the kit, and gave it a good shake.

"That looks laborious," the baron noted as she repeated the process with the others that measured nitrogen, phosphorous, and potassium.

"You have a big garden, my Lord," Waverly replied, giving him a wink.

A flush blossomed on Baron Francis's cheeks and he rubbed a hand across his face. "Well, yes, that's true."

Waverly giggled softly to herself; it was cute when a man got flustered. She peered at the results of the PH test, her smile flattening into a contemplative line: acidic. No wonder the red-hot pokers were thriving; according to a quick search, they loved slightly-acidic soil. She made a note on her iPad and checked the other tests. Not good.

"All right, next spot!" Waverly declared, gathering everything up.

"Would an extra pair of hands be helpful?" the baron asked as Waverly settled further down the row.

She glanced up at him, water dripping from the pipette as she rinsed the kits out into the small container. "I wouldn't want to keep you from anything important."

Baron Francis snorted softly, lips twitching. "They know where to find me."

For the next few hours, they traced the outline of the outer rectangle before moving to the inner section. The circular formation in the very middle was indeed a fountain—albeit cracked, with broken pipes and the centerpiece missing. Baron Francis proved to be diligent and only had to be told once how to use the test kits.

Every sample Waverly tested was one extreme or the other: too acidic or too alkaline. Each bush or tree was either dead or dying and what flowers she could find in the overgrowth struggled to survive.

As the sun crossed overhead, they completed the left-hand side of the garden and reached the walled enclosure. Waverly's knees were dirty and she was sweating in the heat; dust clung to Baron Francis's shoes and cuffs, and a slight sheen of perspiration clung to his brow.

Did she feel bad that she allowed her employer to ruin his clothes? No, not really. Anyone willing and able to get down in the dirt and really work ranked high in her book.

"What's in here?" Waverly asked, staring at the ivy-choked grey stone. A heavy wooden door with rusted iron fittings and a large padlock barred the way. There was something in there, something that thrived. She had to see what it was.

"I've no idea," the baron replied, studying the door.

Waverly reached out and twisted the lock; it was so rusted she figured it would just snap off. No such luck. Bits of rust flaked off as she gave it a good shake, dropping to the ground like red snow.

Clapping her hands together to get rid of the rust, Waverly took a step back and assessed the situation. A few good whacks with a crowbar should do it ...

"Let me try."

Waverly looked up as the baron stepped up to the door, took the lock in one hand, and—snapped it clean off.

"H-how'd you do that?" she stammered in shock.

Baron Francis glanced at the crumpled bit of metal in his hand and dropped it off to the side. Brushing his hand on the ivy, he shrugged. "I got it at the right angle."

Waverly's eyes swept up and down his frame. He was tall and broad-shouldered, but not overly muscular. He'd taken off his sports jacket and left it at the head of the garden, so she had a good look at his arms. Slowly, she shook her head and wiped her forehead on her sleeve.

Baron Francis grabbed the door handle and yanked it open. The old wood creaked in protest before popping off its hinges. "Well," he noted wryly, "I'll have to get that replaced, too. After you," he said, gesturing inside.

Waverly glanced at him before stepping into the enclosure. "Oh, wow," she breathed. It really was a secret garden!

Birds exploded for the safety of the sky as Waverly slowly walked inside. At least four different varieties of apple trees, plus two types of pears, as well as plums and walnuts, lined the ivy-covered walls. In the center were three large box gardens, already showing signs of vegetables poking between the weeds.

Waverly stuck her hand into the soil of the nearest box and smiled. Whatever neglect lay outside did not exist here. Despite decades of abandonment, the soil was still rich. She scooped up a handful and turned her hand over, running the dirt through her fingers. A half-dozen bees lazily flitted over the garden, performing their eternal routine.

"Do you have a favorite vegetable?" she asked the baron with a wide grin.

Before he could answer, the same young man who had found Frederick poked his head around the busted door. "Uhm, my Lord?"

Baron Francis's eyebrows lifted, then swiftly lowered. "Yes, Dean?" he asked, turning slightly. Was it her imagination or did he sound annoyed?

"Ms Mi needs you."

"Yes, of course," the baron replied. "Will you be all right on your own?" he asked Waverly.

She stood up, dusted off her hands, and laughed. "Of course," she told him with a wink. "I've done this many times. But I'm going to have lunch first, then I'll start on the other end."

Baron Francis glanced at his watch. "Noon already?"

"Time flies when you're in the dirt," Waverly joked.

"Mm," he murmured. "All right Dean, what does Kyung-Jin want?"

Waverly stood up and took a slow circuit of the walled garden, listening to their voices fade into the distance. Flowers were lovely, but vegetables and fruits were her favorites. This was going to be fun.

Hot, but fun.

Grabbing her backpack, Waverly hitched it over her shoulders and slowly made her way back to the manor. She was hungry.