Could this be "The Garden of Time" by J. G. Ballard?
Towards evening, when the great shadow of the Palladian villa filled
the terrace, Count Axel left his library and walked down the wide
rococo steps among the time flowers. A tall, imperious figure in a
black velvet jacket, a gold tie-pin glinting below his George V beard,
cane held stiffly in a white-gloved hand, he surveyed the exquisite
crystal flowers without emotion, listening to the sounds of his wife‟s
harpsichord, as she played a Mozart rondo in the music room, echo and
vibrate through the translucent petals
...
Three evenings later, as he had estimated (though sooner than he
secretly hoped), Count Axel plucked another flower from the time
garden. When he first looked over the wall the approaching rabble
filled the distant half of the plain, stretching across the horizon in
an unbroken mass. He thought he could hear the low, fragmentary sounds
of voices carried across the empty air, a sullen murmur punctuated by
cries and shouts, but quickly told himself that he had imagined them.
Luckily, his wife was at her harpsichord
and at the end
The larger of the figures was the effigy of a bearded man in a
high-collared jacket, a cane under one arm. Beside him was a woman in
an elaborate full-skirted dress, her slim serene face unmarked by the
wind and rain. In her left hand she lightly clasped a single rose, the
delicately formed petals so thin as to be almost transparent. As the
sun died away behind the house a single ray of light glanced through a
shattered cornice and struck the rose, reflected off the whorl of
petals on to the statues, lighting up the grey stone so that for a
fleeting moment it was indistinguishable from the long-vanished flesh
of the statues‟ originals.
