The Bluebell Castle Collection
Page 33
Tilting his head back, he met her gaze. ‘But you said there’s no door visible from inside the garden …’ Catching a gleam of excitement in her eyes, he pressed his case. ‘Aren’t you just the tiniest bit curious?’
She laughed. ‘You could get a woman into a lot of trouble, Will Talbot.’ She edged closer, then hesitated. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Go for it.’ Will dropped his head and braced his arms in preparation for her weight. He swallowed a grunt as she planted her foot near his shoulders and pushed herself up. Within seconds the pressure had eased, as though she’d found a way to take some of her weight from him.
‘Oh. God.’
At her breathy exclamation, Will’s curiosity spiked, and he cursed himself for not just going to fetch his ladders in the first place. ‘Everything all right?’
‘There’s a secret garden here!’ Her weight vanished as she dropped down onto the ground beside him.
Brushing off his hands as he rose, Will couldn’t help but grin at the expression on Igraine’s face-she looked like a kid in a candy store. ‘Tell me!’
‘It’s not very deep, maybe six or seven feet across but it looked like it ran the length of the wall. I’ll need to go back and consult the plans again, because I didn’t notice it when I was studying them.’ She laughed. ‘Mind you, we didn’t notice there was a hidden tunnel in the castle until Lucie helped to uncover it. In fact, if she hadn’t found it, you wouldn’t be here.’
She was squinting as she spoke and Will realised she was facing directly into the sun. He shifted position, propping one shoulder against the wall so she could angle herself away from the bright light and still be facing him. ‘Now I’m properly intrigued. Tell me more.’
Igraine mirrored his pose by leaning on the wall next to him. ‘I wasn’t kidding earlier when I said we need to open to the public to keep afloat. Things here were in pretty dire straits after our father died last year, to the point we thought we might lose everything.’
‘Jesus, that must have been awful.’
She nodded. ‘It really was, especially on the heels of losing him.’ A sweet, sad smile crossed her face. ‘He was the life and soul of this place, and I adored him. Anyway, we’d hit rock bottom and were looking for solutions to raise money. Morgana suggested we get someone in to catalogue all antiques and paintings and that’s how Lucie ended up here.’
Will frowned. ‘Morgana?’
‘She’s our great-aunt, you haven’t met her yet.’ A wicked grin lit up her face. ‘I can’t wait to see what she makes of you.’
He laughed. ‘Should I be afraid?’
‘Only a little bit, her bark is worse than her bite.’
Sounded like someone not standing a million miles from him. ‘I can hardly wait.’ He waved his hand. ‘Back to the story, what does Lucie have to do with me being here?’
‘She came across some old journals of one of our ancestors-the one obsessed with King Arthur, actually-which led to the discovery of the secret tunnel and a hidden masterpiece which had been walled up inside it. It’s being restored at the moment, and Arthur is planning on selling it later in the year. The bank has advanced Arthur enough funds we can crack on with the external works which is how come I was able to approach you.’
‘Sounds amazing, it must’ve been quite the adventure.’ He was sorry to have missed it.
‘No one in the family had any idea about the painting’s existence; if it hadn’t been for Lucie …’ She shook her head, as though to dispel a terrible thought. ‘Thanks to her discovery we’ve got a fighting chance of hanging onto the castle now. Opening to the public should help us get things onto a secure footing.’
It was all starting to fall into place. ‘Hence the rush on the deadline to get the grounds sorted out.’
She quirked a brow. ‘Indeed. There is a method behind our madness.’
He took the dig about his initial response to her plans on the chin, but couldn’t resist a gentle jab back. ‘If you’d mentioned any of this when you called yesterday …’
‘Yesterday. It feels like an awful lot has happened since then.’ Reaching up, she scrubbed a hand over her face drawing his attention to the tired lines bracketing her eyes. ‘Do you think we’ve got any chance at all of succeeding?’
It would be tight as hell, but he could tell she already knew that. ‘We can only try.’
Dropping her hand, she raised an eyebrow at him. ‘Can we? What about …’ She gestured vaguely. ‘… London?’
It sounded like she wasn’t completely convinced about his explanation about Melody earlier. ‘My team is looking after my current clients, and other than that, there is nothing in London that holds any interest for me. I’m a free agent.’ He couldn’t put it much plainer than that.
Hoping that was an end to it, he straightened up and clapped his hands together. ‘Right, what’s on the rest of the agenda for this morning? Are you going to give me the guided tour, or are we going to give in to temptation and explore this secret garden?’
Igraine placed her hand on the wall between them. ‘It’s not like we were intending to open this up to the public. We don’t even know what’s in there. All I saw from that quick look was a lot of dead plants and weeds.’ With one final pat of the brickwork, she squared her shoulders. ‘We should get on with the tour, so you know exactly what you’re up against.’
She was right, and he might have let it go had he not seen her give one last yearning glance back towards the wall before she ducked in preparation to wriggle through the gap they’d made. ‘I’ve got a set of ladders in my truck. It wouldn’t do any harm to take a quick look.’
The wicked grin she gave him from on her hands and knees just before she crawled under the hedge sent a spark of something dangerous shooting through his blood stream. A gentleman wouldn’t have stood there and enjoyed every moment of her delicious bottom disappearing through the gap. But then again, no one had ever accused him of being one.
Chapter 8
As they made their way back through the gardens and towards the castle, Iggy pointed out a few of the things she wanted to work on, as well as a couple of areas she thought would work well for Tristan’s idea of later projects for volunteers. Her mind wasn’t really on it though, as all she kept turning over was the idea that Will and Melody had faked a relationship for months. They’d always looked so happy together, it didn’t seem possible for there to be nothing behind those smiles and touches emblazoned across the papers. She wasn’t naïve; there’d been enough press scandals over recent years for it to be clear there were some murky goings-on in certain parts of the media, but even so, it seemed like such a weird thing to do.
Though she’d die before she admitted it, she’d followed everything about Will in the media, curious about the young man who’d come from seemingly nowhere to win one of the most prestigious horticultural prizes going. If her fascination with him had strayed beyond the professional, well, that was her secret and not something she’d ever share.
They made it as far as the edge of the sweeping gravel drive before curiosity got the better of her. ‘Was there really never anything between you and Melody?’
He was quiet for a long moment and Iggy cursed herself for putting her foot in it again. They’d just got things easy between them and she’d opened her big mouth and thrown a spanner in the works. If he got in his truck and drove off without a backwards glance, she wouldn’t blame him. ‘Please don’t think I was questioning your honesty, it just all seems a bit …’
‘Ridiculous,’ he supplied, and she nodded in agreement. ‘Dealing with the press is a stupid game of cat and mouse. If you don’t give them something, they’ll take it anyway and trash you in the process.’ His voice was so quiet she had to strain to hear him over the crunch of their feet across the gravel. ‘Trouble is, I was too young and a bit easily led when people first started paying attention to what I was doing. I spent more time with the plants than around other people so I wasn’t exactly a social butterfly. Th
e first few parties I was invited to, I didn’t know anyone, and the ones I recognised I was too shy to talk to-why would some actor off the telly want to chat with a kid from a council estate? I turned to the booze-not hard when it flows like water at those things-to calm my nerves and was snapped falling out of a door or two. I also met a few girls who kissed and told.’
They’d reached his large black flatbed truck on the driveway by this point and he gave her a self-deprecating shrug before reaching to unfasten the thick tarpaulin cover stretched over the back. ‘Before I knew it, I was appearing in the tabloid gossip columns and an agent contacted me offering to help me manage things. He introduced me to Melody and we decided to put a positive spin on the stories being told about us.’
‘Until this morning,’ she pointed out.
Will grimaced. ‘I didn’t hold up my side of the bargain. Our agent arranged a last-minute function, but I forgot all about it in my rush to come up here. Melody spun my absence to her advantage, I guess.’
Iggy circled to the other side of the truck to tug free the opposite corner of the cover. ‘It must be awful not being able to trust anyone, even when you’re supposed to be friends.’
He flashed her a quick smile, and she noticed for the first time it was slightly wonky where the scar pulled his cheek tight on the right-hand side. It only added to his attraction and she could understand why women who were looking for a bit of free publicity would be happy to be linked with him.
As though picking up on her thoughts, he continued, ‘I wouldn’t call Melody and I friends-temporary allies, maybe. It’s a brutal world if you choose to live your life in the spotlight. I’m pissed off with her, but I can’t really blame her. It was an important event for her, and I let her down. I’ve met a lot of people over the past couple of years and I’m pretty sure most of them would trash me if it turned the story to their advantage. I’d like to say I’d behave differently, but that’s only because I don’t care about being famous. It’s been the worst thing about being successful, even though I know it’s the only reason I’m successful in the first place.’
God, it sounded like he didn’t have anyone in his life who he could rely on. She’d be lost if she didn’t have Arthur and Tristan to lean upon. ‘Don’t you have any friends you can rely on?’
He gave her that shrug again. ‘I’ve got my team in the office, and my dad, although I don’t see him much these days. I gave up trying to make friends once I realised that people weren’t the tiniest bit interested in me, only in being seen with me.’
‘I can understand why.’
Will paused in the act of pulling free a ladder to throw back his head and laugh. ‘Well that put me in my place. I didn’t realise I was that bad!’
‘What?’ Askance, Iggy stared at him for a moment before realising what she’d said. ‘Oh, no.’ She clapped a hand to her mouth then giggled. ‘Sorry, I meant I could understand why they’d want to be seen with you.’ When he raised an eyebrow, that piratical smile tugging at this cheek, she blushed. ‘Just hand me that spade so I can dig this hole a little deeper.’ Will laughed once more, and she found herself joining in, glad that her faux pas had chased some of the shadows from his face. He had a nice laugh, rich and warm and inviting.
She helped him finish lifting the ladder out of the bed of the truck then refasten the tarpaulin. Though she offered to help him carry it, he hoisted it over his shoulder and declared himself well able to manage. They began to head back the way they’d come when she had a brainwave. ‘Rather than causing any more damage to the hedge, we should access the garden from the other side, via the apothecary’s garden. What do you think?’
‘I think it’s just as well that you’re the brains of this outfit because I’d have likely spent half an hour trying to wrestle this bloody thing through the gap we made.’
Iggy led them away to the left and along a gravel path which skirted the edge of the gardens until they reached the sturdy door set into the red-bricked enclosure of the apothecary’s garden. ‘It looks to be the same age as the other one but see how the dimensions are different.’ She stretched her arms wide, her fingers barely touching either side of the brickwork arch into which the door was set to show him.
‘You’re right,’ Will agreed, resting the ladder down for a moment. ‘The one we found is much smaller and set flush into the brick.’
Turning the handle, she pushed the door open then stepped back to let Will through with the ladder. ‘We don’t keep it locked because there aren’t any children around, but we make sure to keep the door closed so the dogs can’t get it.’ She gestured towards the weed-strewn brick beds. ‘I haven’t had time to identify exactly what was planted in here, but given what it was used for there are bound to be some poisonous plants in here.’
Hands on hips, she surveyed the area. It really was a mess. ‘My initial plan was to try and replicate what was originally here, but it might just be easier to start again.’
Setting the ladder down flat on the ground, Will crouched beside the nearest bed and examined one of the plants there. Pulling back the overgrown leaves, he showed her the green unripe fruit hanging beneath them. At first glance they looked to be small tomatoes, but when she bent for a closer look, she saw a couple of them were starting to turn black at the edges. ‘Nightshade,’ he said. ‘Definitely not something you want getting into the wrong hands.’ Releasing the branch, he brushed the palms of his gloves on his jeans and stood up. ‘As fascinating as it might be to recreate what’s here, I’d err on the side of caution if you’re going to make this one of the public spaces. There are plenty of things you can plant with traditional medicinal and health properties without risking a lawsuit.’
It was reassuring to hear they were thinking along the same lines. ‘If we add lots of aromatics and herbs we can make it into a proper, sensory experience whilst keeping it safe.’
‘Exactly.’ He tilted his head, brow creased in thought. ‘What’s outside opposite the entrance? I wasn’t paying attention.’ He turned to face towards the door she’d closed behind them.
Iggy shrugged. ‘Nothing much. There’s another path, which leads back towards the castle kitchens and a large patch of grass that no one has ever done anything with. Why, what are you thinking?’
‘Talking about making this child-friendly made me wonder about creating something interactive for them. A safe place where they can get their hands dirty, do a bit of planting even. I didn’t have a clue about gardening until my neighbour showed an interest in me. She started my love of everything green, and I just thought it would be something nice to do for other kids.’
The way his voice warmed as he mentioned his neighbour told her this was something very close to his heart-it was also a really lovely idea. ‘We could create a couple of different areas, one for flowers and the other for vegetables. Maybe even get the village school involved.’ Her mind started racing a mile a minute. ‘Perhaps we could find somewhere for the school to have their own space away from the general public areas, something they could use long-term. We’ve got more than enough land for it.’
She’d have to consult Arthur, of course, but from their own time at the village school-before they’d boarded from aged eleven-she recalled the only outside space had been the concrete yard in front of the school building. ‘They don’t have any green areas to speak of. I don’t know why it’s never occurred to us before.’
‘It’d be a fantastic legacy for you guys to establish, and a great way to give access to the community. The biggest thrill I had designing my garden for Chelsea wasn’t winning, even though that’s brought so many opportunities my way. I specifically designed it together with a London charity that supports inner city gardens and works to provide access to green spaces. After the show finished, we donated the garden to an estate a few miles from where I grew up. Most of the kids there were the same as me and had no experience of gardening. It’s maintained by a team of local volunteers and apart from a couple of stupid acts of vandali
sm when it was first installed, it’s proving to be a great success. It’s something I’d like to do more of in the future.’
‘I’ll speak to Arthur and Tristan about it later. Come on, let’s check out what’s over the wall before you come up with any more ideas. You’re supposed to be helping me streamline this project, not giving me more to do.’ She smiled over her shoulder at him to show she was joking.
Will hefted the ladder up once more and followed her along the stone path towards the rear of the garden. ‘That’ll be my last bright idea, I promise.’ He leant the ladder against the wall, then braced the bottom rung with his boot. ‘Ladies first.’
Iggy placed her foot on the rung beside his, then stopped. She knew they didn’t have time for this, that they should be doing a full tour of the grounds and then poring over the plans. There were too many things to do with not enough hours to do them, and yet something was calling to her from the other side of that wall. It’s waited this long to be rediscovered, a few more days or weeks won’t matter. That was the practical, sensible response, but she hadn’t been feeling either practical or sensible since the moment she’d decided to crawl through a non-existent hole in the hedge after the man beside her. ‘Just a quick look,’ she said, not sure if she was talking to herself or Will, ‘And then we must get on with things.’
‘Five minutes,’ he promised. ‘If we don’t look then it’ll nag away at us and be even more of a distraction.’
‘Five minutes,’ she agreed and began to climb.
Will’s hand curled around her calf, pausing her progress. ‘Sit on the wall at the top and wait for me, we’ll pull the ladder up between us.’
‘Oh, yes of course.’ If her cheeks felt warm it was embarrassment from not considering the practicalities of getting down into the garden-and more importantly how they’d get back out again. It had nothing to do with the heat radiating from where he held her. Nothing at all.
It took a couple of awkward minutes, but they managed to haul the ladder up and over the wall and were soon standing on the other side. Weeds had forced their way through the cracks in the stones lining the length of the long, narrow area, the dandelion heads a mixture of golden-yellow flowers and wispy seed heads waiting for a gust of wind to carry them away to propagate yet more of the stubborn trouble-makers. A wide stone channel ran the length of the wall, perhaps the remains of an old flowerbed, but it was so choked with ivy it was impossible to see anything through the thick carpet of green. A bronze sundial, weathered to a pale green after years of exposure to the elements, stood in what she judged to be the centre of the garden.