He held the door open for her, before placing her case in the boot and letting himself into the driver’s side. He’d started the engine and was just about to put the car in gear when Constance’s cool fingers touched the back of his hand. ‘I understand it’s you I have to thank for my invitation, and I just wanted to say how much I appreciate your generosity.’
‘It’s honestly my pleasure. I know Lucie has been missing you.’ Worried that sounded a little overfamiliar, he hurried to add, ‘She’s said as much, and I’m sure you’ve missed her too.’ Hoping Constance hadn’t noticed his blunder, he steered the car away from the kerb and started up the hill.
‘I have, very much. It’s been the two of us for such a long time, I haven’t quite known what to do with myself.’ Constance let out a soft gasp and twisted in her seat to face him. ‘You won’t tell her that, will you? It’s past time she moved on in her life, the last thing I want is to hold her back because she’s worried about me.’
Deciding he liked this small, neat woman who clearly wanted only the very best for her daughter, Arthur took one hand off the steering wheel to make a zipping motion across his mouth. ‘Your secret is safe with me.’
They’d reached the top of the hill and the vast curtain wall loomed into view as he crested the rise and followed the single-track road running parallel to it. A hundred metres further and he was turning through the open gates, the gravel of the driveway crunching under the wheels.
Constance leaned forward to peer through the windscreen. ‘Oh my goodness. I know Lucie said you live in a castle, but I hadn’t realised…’
‘It’s a bit of a monstrosity, but you’ll soon find your way around. Mrs W has sorted you out a room in the guest wing, so you’ll be near Lucie.’ It might put a cramp in his own plans for Lucie, but those could wait for a few days.
‘I can’t wait to see what it looks like inside, Lucie’s sent me a few photos on WhatsApp, but they didn’t do justice to the grandeur of the place. Do you really have a replica of the Winchester round table in the great hall?’
Arthur pulled up outside the front door with a nod. ‘Yup. I take it Lucie’s told you all about my great-great-whatever grandfather and his Arthurian obsession?’
‘Oh, yes, and his connection with that Pre-Raphaelite painter, it’s all very exciting. I think the idea for an exhibition sounds wonderful. People love that kind of thing, I’m sure they’ll be flocking through the gates.’ Constance unfastened her belt and Arthur had to be quick off the mark to make it around the car to help her out. ‘Thank you.’ The shy way she averted her gaze as she took her hand reminded him once more of her daughter.
Speaking of whom… ‘Mum! You’re here! I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to meet you.’ Lucie came staggering out the front door, knees akimbo like John Wayne in one of those old cowboy movies his grandfather had loved.
‘Lucie, darling, oh come here!’
While the two women embraced on the steps, Arthur busied himself fetching Constance’s bag from the boot, not wanting to intrude on their special moment. He followed the two of them into the great hall, smiling to himself as Lucie chattered a mile a minute, trying to cram in an explanation of everything she’d been doing over the past month into a single breath. Well, almost everything. She hadn’t mentioned him yet, other than in passing when she was describing how he and Tristan had stepped in to speed up the survey process.
‘Your room’s right upstairs,’ she was saying now as she limped across the hall. ‘I can show you where it is, if you’d like? You probably want to freshen up a bit after being stuck on the train all afternoon.’
‘Well, I wouldn’t mind the chance to change my clothes, and clean my teeth,’ Constance replied.
Lucie looked across at him. ‘Will you bring Mum’s bag up?’
‘Yes, of course.’
Their progress was somewhat hampered by Lucie’s stiff legs, although she proclaimed it was much easier going up than down. ‘Iggy—that’s what Igraine prefers to be called by the way, although I wish she wouldn’t as her name is so beautiful—she’s promised to lend me some kind of miracle bath soak so I’m sure I’ll be as right as rain tomorrow,’ she assured her mother. ‘I thought I’d show you around for a bit in the morning, and then Morgana, has invited us to take afternoon tea with us.’
‘That sounds lovely, darling, but you must let me help with the preparations for the party as well.’
‘Oh, I’ve already told Iggy that you would want to be involved, don’t worry. There’s loads to do.’ Lucie linked arms with her mum and leaned into her. They made such a sweet picture as Arthur followed them down the hall. Lucie seemed much younger, much more eager to please, although nothing about Constance struck him as being anything other than delighted just to be close to her daughter again.
‘Right, this is you, Mum.’ Lucie pushed open the door to a room a couple of doors down and on the opposite side of the corridor to her own. ‘And that one’s mine.’ She pointed to the slightly open door of her own bedroom.
‘This is beautiful.’ Eyes bright, Constance turned in a slow circle as though trying to take in every detail of her suite. Taking in the shocked expression on her face, Arthur was reminded once again of how different his idea of normal was to almost everybody else. He placed her suitcase on the padded ottoman at the end of the bed, then did his own quick survey of the room. Mrs W would’ve made sure everything was ready, of course, but this was Lucie’s mother, and he wanted to make the best impression possible.
Although the evening was already drawing in, on any other day the west-facing windows would mean the sitting area beneath them would be a nice sun trap in the afternoon should Constance want a spot to rest in peace and quiet. He wasn’t much of an interior designer, but the floral wallpaper gave the room a nice feminine touch, as did the vase of fresh flowers on the bedside cabinet.
Crossing the room, he pushed open the bathroom door and peeked in. Plenty of fresh towels and a whole shelf full of the kind of bottles and jars women seemed to need in abundance. Satisfied, he pulled the door to and turned to Constance. ‘I hope you’ll be very comfortable in here. Please make sure you let Mrs W know if you need anything at all.’
‘I will, thank you. It’s so beautiful, like a luxury hotel.’ Constance’s shoulders were beginning to droop, and Arthur could see the lines of strain not quite hidden by her make-up.
‘Right, shall we leave you in peace, Mum? Dinner is usually at seven-thirty, so you’ve got plenty of time if you want to lie down for a bit.’
‘I might do that, if you don’t mind?’ Constance gave them both a weary smile.
‘Not in the least,’ he assured her. ‘We don’t stand on formalities here, so just whatever is comfortable for dinner. Can I send you up a pot of tea?’
‘That would be wonderful.’
‘If you need anything, I’ll be just across the hallway, Mum.’
Having closed the door behind them, Lucie glanced up at Arthur. ‘You go and sort out that tea, and I’m going to hunt Iggy down and find that bath soak.’ She hobbled towards her bedroom door. ‘I’m going to need your help getting me in and out the bath tub.’
‘I suppose you’ll want me to scrub your back whilst I’m at it?’
‘But of course.’ Lucie paused on the threshold. ‘Thank you for being discreet around Mum. I’ll have a chat with her later, before we come down to dinner and explain about us.’
He cupped her cheek, using his thumb to soothe the lines of tension pulling at her eye. ‘There’s no rush. We can drop things until after her visit, if that would make you more comfortable?’
Reaching up, she covered his hand with hers. ‘That’s sweet of you, and I know we agreed to keep things under wraps, but that might make things awkward when there’s no reason for them to be.’ A line etched between her brows. ‘Unless you’ve changed your mind?’
‘Not in the slightest,’ he assured her with a quick kiss on the tip of her nose. When they reached Lucie’s room, Arthur pushed her gently to
wards the door. ‘Go and get the water running, I’ll get the bath stuff from Iggy and arrange your mum’s tea.’
‘Okay. Don’t be long, I’m going to need you to take my jeans off.’
He waggled his eyebrows at her. ‘Are you trying to seduce me, Miss Kennington?’
Her bright laughter filled the air. ‘In your dreams, Sir Arthur. In your bloody dreams.’
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Feeling a lot better after her bath—and the full body massage Arthur had insisted on giving her afterwards—Lucie tapped on her mother’s bedroom door, waiting until she was summoned before pushing it open. Constance was sitting on a stool before the dressing table, a hand towel draped over the shoulders of her ivory cotton blouse as she added a few touches of make-up. ‘How are you, Mum? Better for a rest?’
Smiling at her via her reflection, Constance nodded before turning her attention back to the eye pencil in her hand. ‘How about you? You seem to be moving a bit easier than you were earlier.’
Lucie grinned as she eased down on the edge of the bed to watch her mum work. ‘Iggy wasn’t kidding about that muscle soak, it’s miraculous. I feel almost as good as new.’
‘You look well.’ After returning the pencil to the small make-up bag on the dresser, Constance turned on the stool to face her. ‘You look really well, darling, happier than I’ve seen you in ages.’
‘I am.’ Knitting her fingers together in her lap, Lucie glanced down at them for a moment before meeting her mother’s gaze. ‘Arthur and I…’
‘Oh.’ Constance was quiet for a moment. ‘Are you sure that’s wise?’ When Lucie opened her mouth to protest, her mother held up a hand. ‘That’s not a criticism, but you must admit that your life is a bit all over the place at the moment. Starting a new relationship, especially when your time here is limited, seems a little hasty.’
Lucie bristled, but only for a moment before her shoulders slumped. ‘You’re right. I know you’re right, but it just sort of happened. I really like him, Mum, and I think he likes me too.’
Crossing to sit beside her, Constance put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you, darling, I just don’t want you to get hurt.’
‘And do you think that’s going to happen?’ Lucie lifted her head to look up at her mum.
‘Don’t you? What happens when you have to come back to London? Are you planning on trying to make things work from a distance?’
Lucie blushed. ‘We haven’t even talked about it.’ They hadn’t talked about anything very much so caught up were they in this first flush of passion and attraction.
‘You can’t hide up here forever.’ Constance’s tone was infinitely gentle. ‘Have you heard anything from Witherby’s?’ Feeling even more miserable, Lucie shook her head. ‘Oh, darling, won’t you at least tell me what happened?’
‘They…they accused me of fraud.’
Constance reeled back as though she’d been slapped. ‘You can’t be serious?’
Trying not to cry, Lucie blurted out the whole sorry business about the fake Meileau and how she had no idea how it had been substituted for the original. ‘They even brought up Dad,’ she finished. ‘That’s the real reason I didn’t want to say anything to you about it.’
Constance hugged her tight. ‘You mustn’t ever worry about that. What your father did had nothing to do with you, do you understand me?’
Lucie nodded against her shoulder, trying to swallow down the tears gathering in her throat.
Drawing back, her mum gazed down at her, concern tugging her eyes tight. ‘And you’ve been carrying this with you for weeks, and didn’t tell anyone? You poor thing, does Arthur know?’
‘I didn’t know how to tell him, and not only because of the non-disclosure agreement.’ Lucie knotted her fingers once more. ‘Do you remember that case in the papers recently, the big Masterson trial?’
Her mother nodded. ‘It was hard to miss.’
She looked so sad, so fragile that Lucie forgot all about her own distress for a moment. This was exactly why she hadn’t wanted to tell her about the mess at Witherby’s. But she’d come this far, so might as well lay everything out on the table. ‘The reason Arthur placed that ad in the paper, the reason why I’m here is because his father lost a fortune in the Masterson scam.’
‘Oh, Lucie!’ There wasn’t any need to say anything more, her mother would understand better than most the terrible position she’d found herself in.
‘I’ll have to talk to Arthur.’ Somehow. ‘I’ll do it after the party. It’s so important that everything goes well, I can’t afford to be a distraction to him right now.’
Constance didn’t look convinced, but she nodded in agreement. ‘All right.’ Touching Lucie’s cheek, she turned her to face her. ‘I expect all this has stirred a lot of things up for you. If you need to talk to me…about anything, I’m always here. You must never worry about upsetting me, do you promise?’
‘I promise.’ Lucie bit her lip. ‘I…I miss him. I know I shouldn’t after all the awful things he did, but I really do.’
Pulling her close, Constance rocked her. ‘There’s nothing wrong with that, he was still your father. Oh, darling, why didn’t you say something? I didn’t want to push you to talk about him, and you seemed to be coping…but I’ve been protecting myself and my own feelings at the expense of yours. I’m so sorry.’
Dabbing at a tear on her cheek, Lucie leaned closer. ‘It’s okay, Mum. It’s not your fault. I just…’ She sighed. ‘I just wish I knew why he’d done it.’
They drew apart, and Constance settled herself more comfortably on the edge of the bed before reaching for Lucie’s hand. ‘I’ve thought about nothing else for years, but I don’t know that I have all the answers. The man I loved, well, I’m not sure he ever really existed. It was like your father created this idealised version of himself and would stop at nothing to maintain that façade. I never met any of his family. He told me he was an orphan, but there was a brother who turned up during the trial. I…I couldn’t face him, couldn’t face any of it because I should’ve known something was wrong, but I honestly never suspected a thing!’
It was another thing Lucie had burned to ask her but had never had the courage. She’d heard the whispers, though, and the not-so-whispered comments of their neighbours as they’d watched the sideshow of her father’s arrest, the parade of policemen carting box after box of their belongings seized in evidence. ‘He lied to you too.’
Her mum nodded. ‘Constantly. From the day we first met, I think. That still doesn’t excuse my naivety, but things were never great at home for me and when your father swept into my life and promised me everything would be better from then on, I just allowed myself to be carried along with it. I never wanted much—a place to feel safe, to love and be loved, and for a long time that’s what I thought I had. All the other stuff, well he told me his business was booming and I had no reason to doubt it.’
The pain and regret etched on her face made her mother look older than Lucie had ever seen before. ‘It wasn’t your fault.’
Constance pursed her lips. ‘Not true, darling, but thank you.’ She straightened up, her grip on Lucie’s hand tightening. ‘Regardless of my own culpability, you are entirely innocent of anything. We were adults, we had choices, you didn’t. I’m appalled anyone at Witherby’s has tried to tar you with the same brush. You must fight this!’
She was right. ‘I’ve been running away.’
‘And no one can blame you for that, darling, but you can’t put the world on hold forever.’
Not forever, but perhaps for just a little bit longer… ‘Come on, let’s wash our faces and go down to dinner, everyone will be wondering where we’ve got to.’
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Given the state of her aches and pains, Arthur would’ve been happy to leave Lucie in peace that night and sleep in his own bed, but she was having none of it. She’d looked a little red-eyed when she and her mother had come down to
dinner, but she’d waved off his concerns and assured him everything was fine—which had only proven to him there was something wrong. Fine was Lucie’s catch-all for avoiding things. When they’d crawled into bed together, she’d turned into him and clung to his body like she feared he’d slip through her fingers.
He’d woken at one point to her tears wetting his chest, but she’d still been fast asleep, so he’d held her tight and kissed her forehead until she’d settled into a more peaceful slumber. When they’d woken, she’d acted as though she remembered nothing of it, and he hadn’t wanted to push, some sixth sense telling him he might not like hearing what she had to say. It was early days, he’d assured himself, it would take time for them to develop a deeper trust between them. When she was ready, she’d share whatever secrets put those shadows beneath her eyes.
Even had he wanted to push her to confide in him, there was scant opportunity to do so. Other than at mealtimes, he didn’t see much of her as they were both busy with various preparations for Morgana’s party. Arthur also wanted to give Lucie as much quality time with her mum as possible. Whenever he saw the pair of them, they had their heads together, expressions serious and he didn’t want to intrude.
*
It was the following Friday afternoon when Lucie came barging into his study, waving one of Thomas’s journals. ‘Oh my God, Arthur, you won’t believe it!’ Excitement shone from every pore as she rounded his desk, plopped herself down on his lap and threw her arms around his neck.
‘Won’t believe what?’ he asked after a very welcome, and very enthusiastic kiss.
‘You know how I told you last night that some of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood came up to the castle to visit Thomas and Eudora?’
He nodded. From what Lucie had been able to piece together from the journals, it was apparent his ancestor and Eudora had thrown convention to the wind and had been openly cohabiting together since Thomas had been forced to return to the castle after his father’s death.
‘Well, Thomas has asked Eudora to marry him, and he’s talking about commissioning JJ Viggliorento to paint a portrait of the two of them to commemorate it!’
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