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Back The Winter Garden
Chapters (54)
  1. COVER
  2. About the Author
  3. ALSO BY ALEXANDRA BELL
  4. DEDICATION
  5. Prologue
  6. Part One
  7. CHAPTER ONE
  8. CHAPTER TWO
  9. CHAPTER THREE
  10. CHAPTER FOUR
  11. CHAPTER FIVE
  12. CHAPTER SIX
  13. CHAPTER SEVEN
  14. Part Two
  15. CHAPTER EIGHT
  16. CHAPTER NINE
  17. CHAPTER TEN
  18. CHAPTER ELEVEN
  19. CHAPTER TWELVE
  20. CHAPTER THIRTEEN
  21. CHAPTER FOURTEEN
  22. CHAPTER FIFTEEN
  23. CHAPTER SIXTEEN
  24. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
  25. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
  26. CHAPTER NINETEEN
  27. CHAPTER TWENTY
  28. CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
  29. CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
  30. CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
  31. Part Three
  32. CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
  33. CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
  34. CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
  35. CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
  36. CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
  37. CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
  38. CHAPTER THIRTY
  39. CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
  40. CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
  41. CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
  42. CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
  43. CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
  44. CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
  45. CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
  46. CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
  47. CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
  48. CHAPTER FORTY
  49. CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
  50. CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
  51. CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
  52. CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
  53. Acknowledgements
  54. THIS IS JUST THE BEGINNING

For the first time Beatrice wondered whether her mother had also seen the Winter Garden – had perhaps been there herself as a child. Maybe Beatrice had not been its first visitor after all. She longed to ask, but it was one of the cruellest parts of losing someone; you could never ask them a question again, never say anything to them that had not already been said. All those chances were gone forever.

Beatrice was the last person on the carousel and was just about to step down from the platform when she suddenly became aware that she was being watched. The back of her neck prickled, so she turned round, convinced there would be someone there. Instead she looked into the eyes of a clockwork horse. Like all the others, it was white from head to toe and had the same silver livery, but it was the only horse there that had a golden ribbon in its mane. Beatrice thought it was the most beautiful creature on the carousel but, more than that, she felt suddenly convinced that it was special in some way. There was something about its eyes as they looked at her. It was as if they really saw her; and not only that, but also that the horse knew things about her – things she did not even know herself yet.

‘Wh-What makes the h-horse with the g-golden ribbon s-s-special?’ Beatrice asked the footman as she climbed down into the snow.

‘All the horses are special, madam.’

‘B-But the horse with the g-golden r-ribbon is d-different s-somehow?’ Beatrice persisted.

The footman shook his head. ‘Not that I am aware of. I expect the duchess just thought it would be pretty to add a single gold ribbon.’

Beatrice frowned. She felt there must be more to it than that and would have liked to ask Rosa herself. But there was still a crowd of people around the duchess’s sleigh and Beatrice cringed at the thought of trying to capture her friend’s attention and stammer out her questions in front of all those people. Besides, time had run away from her and she needed to return to her own garden if she was to be there before it opened. So she changed back into her skates and made her way across the lake. And all the while, there was just one thought that seemed to resound over and over again in her mind:

Rosa will win.

Rosa will win.

Rosa will win.