The Bluebell Castle Collection

by Sarah Bennett

  Lucie jerked, spilling a drop of tea on the back of her hand. Arthur grabbed his napkin, ready to blot it, but she’d already dropped her cup back into the saucer and hidden her hand beneath the table. Really, what was the matter with her this morning? ‘I…I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of the situation here. Going for a ride was Igraine’s idea, not mine. I know I’m here to work.’

  Ah, so that was it. ‘It wasn’t a trick question,’ he said, keeping his voice soft. ‘Part of your job will be to get to know not just the castle, but the entire estate. I think the more you understand about the family, and our position here, the better it will be. Going out with Iggy will really help you with that.’ Arthur steepled his fingers beneath his chin as he considered his next words. ‘I know you said earlier that I’m the boss, but that’s not how I see things. Yes, I’ll want a regular update on your progress, and I’ll always be available if there’s something you want to consult me about, but from my point of view, you’re the expert here and I want to give you as much autonomy as possible.’

  She was quiet for a long moment. When she finally met his gaze, there was a sense of resolve in her eyes. ‘I appreciate that, thank you. Once I understand the scope fully, I should be able to put together a bit of a timetable. I think that will be useful for both of us.’

  ‘Sounds good to me.’ The door creaked behind him, signalling Vera’s return. In addition to the scrambled eggs he’d requested, Betsy had added a couple of rashers of lean, crispy bacon. ‘Thanks, Vera. I think that’ll be everything for now.’ He glanced at Lucie, who nodded her agreement.

  ‘I’ll be back in a bit to clear up, then.’ The ever-cheerful Vera bustled back out, the swing door swooshing a couple of times in her wake.

  Arthur cut a mouthful of food. ‘Anyway, we were talking about riding. I suppose it must be more difficult to arrange in town?’

  ‘I wouldn’t know.’

  Arthur paused mid-chew to look at her, noting the telltale red spots on her cheek that he was recognising as a sign of discomfiture.

  Lucie sipped her tea before continuing. ‘As I was telling Igraine, I used to ride a bit at school, but I haven’t been on a horse for many years. She promised me you have a couple of docile mounts.’

  Riding at school? Arthur mulled that interesting titbit. The private school he and Tristan had attended had offered a huge range of extra-curricular activities, but even it hadn’t had a stables. She must’ve gone somewhere pretty decent for that kind of set-up. Intrigued at the chance to learn a bit more about her background, he couldn’t help but ask, ‘Which school did you go to?’

  ‘Wessingdean.’

  ‘Nice.’ Arthur gave a low whistle of appreciation when she mentioned one of the most prestigious girls’ schools in the country. ‘I was best man at a friend’s wedding in the summer. His dad and mine were best friends at school so Joss and I have known each other all our lives. He married a Wessingdean girl, Henrietta Warner-Mills. Perhaps you know her?’ He laughed at himself almost immediately. ‘Sorry, that’s like meeting an American and them assuming we Brits all know each other.’

  ‘I don’t recall the name. I only went there for a couple of years and then my father underwent a career change and I moved schools as a result.’ Lucie’s responding smile was somewhat thin-lipped, and he cursed himself for prying.

  He didn’t know exactly how old she was; it wasn’t something one asked, and information like that had been expunged from CVs years ago. He’d guessed her to be somewhere around the same age as him, and Wessingdean wasn’t a huge school, but if she’d only been there a couple of years… Not sure quite how but feeling like he’d committed some kind of faux pas, Arthur moved back onto safer ground. ‘Well, I’m sure we can find you something suitable if you do decide to go out riding. How tall are you, five-four?’

  ‘Five-three, and that’s only if I stand up really straight,’ she said with a genuine grin which made him feel better.

  ‘Tristan swears he’s taller than me, claims to be six foot one. I told him, yeah, but only if the one is a centimetre rather than an inch.’ He forked up another mouthful of food and contemplated which member of their small stables would be best suited to her. ‘Lancelot’s the real expert, so you might want to consult with him, but I think Lightning would probably suit you best.’ He winked when she looked askance at him. ‘It’s an ironic name, I promise.’ He finished the last couple of bites of his breakfast, wiped his mouth then drained his coffee. ‘Right, shall we get started?’

  *

  The library was in the west wing of the castle and he knew Mrs W had planned a full tour with Lucie later. Still, he couldn’t resist showing off one of his favourite spots, so he took her via the orangery which ran along two-thirds of the rear of the castle. Modern in comparison to most parts of the castle, the enormous conservatory had been added towards the end of the nineteenth century. An elaborate under-floor system of heated pipes kept the space warm even on cold, blustery days like today. He’d considered closing it as one of many options he, Maxwell and Mrs W had reviewed when trying to save on household running costs, but it provided the family with a source of fresh fruit throughout the year, and there were a number of rare tropical species in amongst the dense greenery. It would also have broken Iggy’s heart, and he’d cut out his own before he did that.

  As he watched Lucie explore the room, touching a finger to the shiny leaves of a rubber plant here, bending to inhale the scent of an orchid there, Arthur admonished himself. There was always an excuse when it came to making the hard decisions. Crossing his fingers and praying for a miracle wasn’t going to cut it. His father had tried that and look at where it had got them all.

  Once he got Lucie settled, it was time to sit down and review everything again. Making more savings was imperative. Yes, he was hopeful for some of the plans he was coming up with for the future, but even if they managed to pull some of them off, there would be no immediate income forthcoming, and—like the fee he was paying Lucie to investigate their artworks and other valuables—they would all require a financial outlay up front.

  ‘It’s so amazing in here, I had no idea there’d be something like this hiding away.’

  Arthur let Lucie’s obvious pleasure push away his darkening mood. ‘It’s one of my favourite places in the castle. This, and the secret room at the top of the tower.’

  ‘Secret room?’ Lucie’s eyes were round as saucers.

  ‘Well, that’s what we called it, anyway. It’s got a huge lock and these enormous bolts that slide deep into the stone floor. The key was lost for years, so nobody knew what was inside. Iggy became obsessed with idea that one of our ancestors had used it to lock up a mad wife, or something.’

  ‘Like Jane Eyre.’ Lucie sighed. ‘One of my favourite books. Can we see it?’

  Arthur shook his head. ‘Not today. The tower isn’t accessible from the main part of the castle, so we’d have to go outside to get to the entrance. There’s rumours of a secret passageway that can be used to enter the tower from inside the castle, but I can promise you we’ve turned the place upside down trying to find it.’ He and Tristan had even gone so far as to clamber up inside one of the huge fireplace chimneys looking for it, getting filthy into the bargain.

  ‘Another day then.’ Lucie sounded a bit regretful before straightening her shoulders. ‘You’ll have to fit me with a set of blinkers to stop me getting distracted by all the wonderful sights the castle has to offer.’

  ‘If that’s the case, perhaps we should rethink your work area.’ With a smile, Arthur ushered her along the rest of the orangery and through the double doors which led to the library. As he listened to Lucie’s gasp of delight, Arthur revised his list of favourite places in the castle. With its double-height lit by an enormous teardrop chandelier and the two side walls covered in shelves from floor to ceiling, it was a beautiful space. Thick Turkish rugs littered the polished wooden floor and a huge mezzanine balcony space spanned over the oak door opposite th
em.

  ‘Oh, Arthur.’ The way she said it, sent his blood rushing. Had a woman spoken his name with such passion before? Glancing sideways, he gave a rueful shake of his head. Lucie’s transfixed gaze was all for the leather-bound tomes lining the walls. Probably just as well.

  Not the slightest bit consoled by that thought, Arthur pointed to the spiral staircase which led to the balcony area. ‘We’ve set you up on the mezzanine. The family archives, papers and other records are filed up there, and it’s also a bit out of the way so you’re less likely to be disturbed.’

  Nodding in a distracted manner that said she was only half-listening to him, Lucie crossed the room to run a hand down the side of one of the rolling ladders hanging from the left-hand bookcase. ‘I’ve never seen one of these outside of a film.’ There was a sense of wonder in her voice that had him viewing the space as though a newcomer to it. Leaving Lucie to examine the bookcases he made his way to the freestanding globe suspended from a cherrywood frame. With wondering hands, he spun the faded ball as he once had done as a boy marvelling at all the countries and continents. His fingers paused over the dent in the middle of Africa caused by an ill-thought game of indoor cricket he and Tristan had played one rainy afternoon. Familiarity might not have bred contempt as such, but they had certainly taken the wonderful things around them for granted. To them the library had been an ideal space to play in with its easily rolled-back rugs and wide expanse of empty floor between the two walls of shelves. He covered his face with his hands. God, they were lucky the ball had never gone through one of the windows in the patio doors and damaged the orangery in the process!

  ‘Are you all right?’ Lucie touched his shoulder.

  ‘What? Oh, yes, I’m fine, just recalling what a pair of idiots Tristan and I were.’ He turned the globe to show her the dent. ‘Indoor cricket.’

  ‘In here?’ Her sense of horror was palpable. Best not confess to the football match they’d played in the village church which had resulted in the loss of a marble angel’s wing. Though it had been a mis-kick from Iggy that had knocked the statue from its plinth, they’d each accepted the punishment meted out. Every piece of brass, every pane in the stained-glass windows had shone for months after their father had seconded them to the team of volunteers who cleaned the church for the rest of the school holidays.

  Arthur found himself grinning at the memory. ‘We were absolute heathens, tearing around the place without a thought to the value of anything.’ The ladies had attempted to co-opt Iggy into their flower arranging group, much to his sister’s horror. To distract them, Tristan had volunteered in her stead, and, to everyone’s surprise had developed a real knack for it. He still lent a hand for big events like Easter and Christmas, and it was his stylish touch that lifted many of the living spaces in the castle.

  ‘I suppose growing up with this around you lessens the impact of it somewhat,’ Lucie said, her tone thoughtful. ‘Although I can’t imagine ever walking into this room and not feeling a little overwhelmed.’

  ‘But you must be used to being surrounded by beautiful things, and a lot rarer than most of what we’ve got here,’ Arthur replied, thinking about her experience working at one of the foremost auction houses in the country.

  ‘At Witherby’s, you mean?’ She seemed to hesitate, the way a person did when they were going to say one thing before changing their mind and saying something else, and it made him wonder for the first time why she wasn’t working there anymore. She seemed a bit young to be taking a sabbatical.

  She started speaking again, and he let the thought slip away. ‘Yes, I was, but we worked in such a controlled environment it was sometimes like being in a laboratory. The auction house itself is a fabulous structure, but not on the same scale as this.’ She waved her arm towards the shelves.

  ‘I’m sure you’ll get used to it soon enough.’ Arthur led her over to a roll-top desk near the globe. ‘There’s a catalogue system of sorts.’ He pushed up the front of the desk to show her two long thin boxes filled with handwritten cards. ‘Though I’m not sure it follows any conventional library system, it works once you get the hang of it.’

  ‘Is it alphabetical?’

  ‘Sort of. Things have been grouped into categories and then alphabetised from there.’ He pulled up a faded divider; once blue, it had bleached over the years to a dull grey, though there were traces of the original colouring towards the bottom end of the card. ‘Blue is flora and fauna.’ Leading the way across to a section of the shelving, he showed her the corresponding strip glued to the shelf marking where the section started. It was a somewhat eclectic mix of everything from gardening books and seed catalogues to a copy of Darwin’s On the Origin of Species.

  ‘Interesting system.’ Lucie said with more than a touch of wryness.

  Arthur shrugged. ‘My great-grandfather started it and we’ve just followed along.’

  Lucie’s gaze travelled upwards to the mezzanine gallery. ‘And what about up there in the family archive?’

  ‘Perhaps you’d better take a look for yourself.’ He headed for the spiral staircase and climbed upwards. Having reached the top, he turned to offer Lucie his hand as she appeared below him. ‘It’s a bit disconcerting when you first come up here,’ he warned as he pointed to the low wooden railing which lined the central edge of the mezzanine. It came to about hip-height on him. ‘I’m pretty sure it would fail all modern health and safety rules, but it’s not something I can afford to replace right now.’

  She eyed the railing. ‘I’m a bit shorter than you, so it’s not quite so bad, but I see what you mean. I’ll be sure to keep a safe distance.’

  Arthur nodded. ‘I’ve set you up over here,’ He led her to a corner desk that was securely walled in by three sides of shelves. ‘But if you’d rather work down below, I can help you move whatever files and records you might need.’

  Lucie slid into the chair then placed her hands on the green leather blotter in the centre of the desk. ‘Oh, no, this is lovely.’ Her eyes traced the shelves around her which were filled with a jumble of old ledgers, leather and cloth bound books and even some rolled up documents and maps of the castle, before she turned her attention to the items he’d laid out on the desk.

  ‘If you need a laptop, I can lend you mine.’ There was an ancient desktop computer in his study that his father had used, but Arthur preferred his more portable device.

  ‘I have my own. I left it in my room, I suppose I should’ve brought it down with me.’

  ‘You’ll want to get your bearings first, no doubt.’ He slid a stack of hardbacked record books towards her. ‘This is the last attempt at an archive from what I’ve been able to find. It seems to have been started in the 1930s.’ He pointed to a pile of ledgers next. ‘These are some of the old purchase ledgers for the castle. My father implemented an electronic record when he took over, but there’s not much of interest on the database and the old stuff has never been transferred. As you can see, they’ve all got red covers so at least they’re easy to pick out from the shelves.’

  ‘Okay, well that’s something to be grateful for, at least.’ Her attention returned once more to the shelves. ‘And what’s the filing system used up here?’

  ‘Haphazard, I’m afraid. Once Maxwell and I started looking for things we thought might be of use to you, we realised it’s a bit random. Things are generally grouped in the same era, but beyond that…’ He cast her a helpless look. ‘In the end we decided to leave it up to whoever we appointed to organise things as they wanted, and that’ll be you.’

  ‘That’ll be me.’ Lucie heaved a huge sigh, but there was at least a smile on her face.

  ‘Sorry.’

  She laughed. ‘No need to be, it’s actually quite exciting. I can’t wait to get stuck in.’

  Tucking his hands in his pockets, Arthur backed a few steps away from the desk. ‘Well, I’ll leave you to it, then, unless there’s anything you need that you can think of, off the top of your head?’

  ‘
I’ve got more than enough here to keep me occupied.’ She checked the cheap plastic watch on her wrist. ‘Perhaps I should try and find Mrs W first, before I bury myself in a mountain of files and ledgers.’

  He’d forgotten about the tour his housekeeper had arranged with Lucie. ‘She’s probably in the kitchen. I can show you the way, or send her to meet you here?’

  ‘I’ll come with you, if that’s all right? Otherwise I’ll be too tempted to start digging through these records.’ With a smile, Lucie shut the ledger she’d already opened before her and stood.

  The route he took back to the kitchens was a bit more convoluted, thanks to the very necessary installation of what was then a modern plumbing system early in the twentieth century. The works had required extensive internal alterations whilst preserving the integrity of the most important rooms within the castle. As a result, a number of the old passageways had been utilised to run the pipework so getting from A to B was no longer always straightforward.

  When they entered the great hall, Lucie was looking thoroughly confused as she turned in a slow circle. ‘I have absolutely no idea how we ended up here. I always thought I had a good sense of direction, but obviously not as I could’ve sworn we were heading towards the other end of the castle.’

  ‘We’ll have to get you a ball of string, so you can use it to trace your way back,’ he joked, referring to the legend of Theseus and the labyrinth.

  ‘As long as there aren’t any monsters lurking, I’ll be all right.’