The Bluebell Castle Collection

by Sarah Bennett

  The arm of the chair was wide enough for him to lean against, but that would go against his decision not to crowd her, so he propped his hip on the edge of the sofa nearest to Morgana. His notebook had been tucked into the gap between the seat cushion and the arm beside him, he noticed. Retrieving it, he began to flick backwards and forwards through his sketches and notes. He’d planned to talk to everyone tomorrow, but as they were all here, he might as well get on with it.

  Rising, he crossed the room to place the open notebook on Igraine’s lap, returning her look of surprise with a surreptitious wink before resuming his casual pose against the sofa arm once more. ‘As everyone is here, I thought I’d take a few minutes of your time to talk about a suggestion I have for the grounds here.’

  He took a quick sip of his champagne as all eyes in the room turned towards him. ‘Igraine has the existing gardens well in hand.’ He paused to smile at her. ‘I’m not sure she ever really needed my input, but I’m not sorry she wanted it and I’m very happy to be here.’ Okay, so that was laying it on a bit thick, perhaps. So much for self-control. Theory and practice were going to be two very different things, apparently. Fire sparked in her hazel-gold eyes, a hint of laughter and warning and Will had to make himself look away from the promise of it all.

  ‘Anyway, I was going over the old garden plans and I spotted a feature in the grounds which set my brain whirring, so I’ve come up with a design that I hope you will all like.’

  ‘You’re talking about something new, rather than just tidying up what’s already here?’ Arthur sat forward a little, one arm sprawled across Lucie’s knee as though he needed to keep in contact with her. Will understood the feeling all too well, and wished he was at ease to do the same with Igraine.

  Keeping his eyes fixed on the baronet, Will nodded. ‘There’s a flat plateau of land beyond the stand of poplars.’

  ‘I know where you mean, lad, there’s that godawful bank leading down to it. I have to keep the horses away from it so they don’t break a leg. When we were putting the gallops in, we made sure to do it well away from that part of the parkland.’

  Will swivelled his attention towards Lancelot. ‘So, you don’t use that part of the grounds?’

  The older man shook his head. ‘No one does, not unless they’re out walking. Whatever you have in mind wouldn’t have any impact on my work at the stables.’ Well, that was one more tick in the plus column. It hadn’t looked to Will like the area was in regular use, but Lancelot’s confirmation was more than welcome.

  ‘Fountains,’ Igraine said, holding up one of his pages covered in sketches. ‘You want to put fountains in the middle of a flat open space no one uses?’

  ‘No.’ Will crossed to take the pad from her hand and flipped it over to a double-page concept sketch. ‘I want to terrace the slope and turn it into a water garden.’ He pointed to the top edge of the drawing. ‘It would not only act as a feature in its own right, but also provide a beautiful backdrop.’

  ‘Backdrop to what?’ Tristan was up on his knees, leaning forward to try and catch a glimpse of the sketch on Igraine’s lap.

  Will handed him the notebook. ‘To whatever you want. That plateau is almost a natural amphitheatre. You could host open air concerts there, get people to bring along blankets and picnics. Or you were talking about a summer fete to celebrate opening the grounds. It’s big enough to take a load of stalls, with room for a display ground in the centre for live music, or whatever.’

  ‘They have companies that tour Shakespeare plays and the like.’ Tristan’s voice was full of enthusiasm, and Will could tell he already had one supporter for his plan. ‘I saw them at a country house on the outskirts of London when I was living there.’ He looked up at Will. ‘Like you said, everyone brought a picnic and chairs or blankets. It was a great evening.’

  ‘Exactly. And if you decide to do regular evening events, I could incorporate a light display into the fountains. Either something simple where you can set the bulbs to a fixed array of colours, or something a bit more sophisticated so you could have a programmable sound and light display.’

  He shifted his gaze to where Arthur and Lucie sat together, another idea forming. ‘You could also hire it out as a private space for functions. Link up with a marquee hire place, or one of those firms that does that fancy camping thing like they do at the big music festivals.’ He knew there was a term for it, but he couldn’t bring it to mind.

  ‘Glamping?’ Lucie asked.

  ‘Yes.’ Will snapped his fingers. ‘You see it all the time in the Sunday supplements. People love that kind of thing, and are willing to pay a pretty penny for it.’ His attention slid to the ring on her hand. ‘You could even offer it for people who want to hold their weddings somewhere special.’

  Her eyes widened and he knew another fish had swallowed the bait on his hook. ‘Oh, yes.’ Clutching Arthur’s arm, she turned to him. ‘Imagine it! A lovely formal ceremony in the chapel followed by a fabulous party under the stars.’

  ‘You two could do a trial run,’ Tristan butted in, grinning at the newly engaged couple. ‘I’ll organise the whole thing!’

  ‘Steady on, we’ve only been engaged an hour,’ Arthur protested, but he was smiling as he said it. He turned to Lucie. ‘Do you think it might be what you want, though? Rather than something a bit more traditional here in the castle?’

  ‘I think it sounds like exactly what I want, and like Tristan said we could be guinea pigs to see if it’s a viable business opportunity.’

  Arthur glowered down at her. ‘We are not using our wedding day as an experiment. What if something goes wrong?’

  Lucie shrugged, apparently not the least bit concerned. ‘What if it does? As long as you put a ring on my finger, and we say “I do” in the right place, I don’t really care about the rest of it.’ She leaned in to kiss Arthur. ‘A wedding is only one day; it’s getting to be married to you for the rest of my life that’s important.’

  Arthur rested his forehead against hers. ‘I’ll give you anything you want, Luce. Anything as long as it makes you as happy as I am right now.’

  Feeling like he was intruding on something very private, Will deliberately turned away to face Tristan. ‘You’d be interested in planning that kind of thing?’

  Tristan nodded. ‘It’s my bread-and-butter. What I used to do before I came home last year. I’m already working on some house-party ideas for events we can host in the castle, if we can incorporate external parties in the summer months then it puts a lot less strain on the household.’

  ‘It all sounds great.’ There was a flatness to Igraine’s statement, and Will felt his excitement wane. She was going to throw some spanner in the works, he could sense it.

  ‘But?’

  Her eyes met his. ‘How much is this going to cost us? I hadn’t budgeted for an exclusive Will Talbot design.’

  Indignation hit like a punch to the gut, and Will felt his temper flare as hot and wild as the passion she’d stirred within him not half an hour before. He was about to snap back, when he noticed the stiff way she was holding herself, the way she nibbled at her bottom lip for a moment before pursing her lips as though to stop herself. Every line of her body seemed to vibrate with tension. Perhaps her earlier upset was resurfacing now he’d unintentionally returned the topic of conversation to Arthur and Lucie’s engagement.

  No.

  The little glances from under her lashes weren’t aimed at the couple on the sofa, but at him. She wasn’t thinking about her earlier tears; she was thinking about the two of them and what had happened in that storage cupboard. She was running scared, he realised, hoping if she insulted him, he’d take offence and tell her where to stick her bloody garden. A sly thread of pleasure wound through his gut. No way was he letting her off that easily. Yes, he would give her time to sort through her feelings, but that didn’t mean he was willing to give up before they’d started.

  Whether she was ready to acknowledge it or not, there was something special
between them. Something with the potential to set roots. Something that if nurtured carefully would bloom and grow. He thought about what Arthur had said to his fiancée, the serious expression on his face and her answering look of adoration. Will had never seen himself as the kind of man who’d want that sort of entanglement for himself, not until right now. The rolling stone of his life had come to a sudden halt, right here in the heart of this wild Derbyshire beauty. ‘I’ll do it for the cost of the materials and hired labour only.’

  ‘You can’t do that,’ she gasped.

  ‘It’s my company, I can do whatever the hell I want.’

  He turned to Arthur. ‘I’ll work up a full price for you, but there’s no charge for my time or the design. Your hospitality and the chance to leave my own mark is payment enough.’ He swung his gaze back to Igraine, took in her half-open mouth, the pleading expression in her eyes begging him to change his mind. ‘I’ll separate the different options out for you,’ he said, his gaze unwavering. ‘So you can make a fully informed choice.’

  Chapter 12

  A fully informed choice. Forty-eight hours since he’d uttered them, those bloody words of Will’s were still ricocheting around Iggy’s head. She stared gloomily at her congealing breakfast. It was enough to put a woman off her cornflakes. He hadn’t been talking about the costs for the water garden, either. As soon as she’d understood the details of his vision, she’d fallen in love with the idea. It would be a wonderful complement to the other parts of the gardens, and people who might not have visited otherwise would be drawn by his name being attached to the design.

  She’d originally assumed they’d host the summer fete on the rear lawn between the conservatory and the stables-it had certainly worked for their impromptu Easter celebrations with the locals from the village. But as he’d outlined his different ideas for using the plateau, she realised it would be a much better spot. Not only was it a lot larger, it was also well away from the castle itself. The locals had been respectful of the location, but other visitors might not be. They’d wander wherever they could, given a chance. They also couldn’t afford strangers snooping around the stable blocks or trying to get into the conservatory unsupervised.

  That suggestion of his about hosting weddings there had been inspired. Lucie was already gung-ho for the idea and she and Tristan had talked about nothing but marquees, temporary dancefloors and decorations for the past couple of evenings. Even Aunt Morgana had been bitten by the wedding bug, suggesting to Arthur he should place an announcement in the newspaper, and offering to host a small engagement tea for the women of the household once Lucie’s mother, Constance, had joined them later that week. She’d been delighted with the news of her daughter’s engagement, and when Iggy had said she’d love some help overseeing things in the gardens, Constance had agreed with alacrity and an extended visit had been planned. Iggy adored Constance and couldn’t wait to discuss her plans for the Friends of the Castle projects with her.

  Lancelot entered the dining room, whistling a tune that was far too jaunty for 6.30 a.m. Iggy wasn’t the only one looking forward to Constance’s arrival, it seemed. They’d had something of a liaison at the Easter party, and Iggy for one was hoping the two of them might rekindle the attraction. She couldn’t remember her uncle being in a relationship. Not one that he’d shared with the rest of the family, at least. It wasn’t that he lived like a monk, but the women he saw all seemed to be on a casual basis, and he never brought any of them home.

  He stopped in his tracks when he spotted her. ‘Hello, early bird! I wasn’t expecting to see anyone else up and about this morning.’

  ‘I haven’t been sleeping great,’ she admitted. ‘Too much on my mind.’ Like handsome gardeners who were too damned good at kissing for their own good. Every time she closed her eyes, she was transported back to that moment in the storage cupboard. If Will hadn’t knocked against that bucket when he had, she had no idea what might have happened between them. A blush heated her cheeks and she quickly ducked over her bowl, pretending to spoon up a mouthful of soggy cornflakes. Oh, she had every idea about what would have happened. Her dreams the past two nights had shown her in embarrassingly graphic detail. Which was another reason she was up so early that morning.

  ‘You’ve taken on a lot with the gardens refurbishment, so I’m not surprised if it’s weighing you down.’ Lancelot paused on his way from fetching a coffee to his seat at the table and bent to kiss the top of her head. ‘You will let me know if there’s anything I can do?’

  Raising her eyes to meet his, she nodded. ‘Of course, I will. Thank you.’

  He tweaked her nose the way he hadn’t done since she was a tiny thing and they’d been playing ‘who-stole-your-nose’. He wiggled the tip of his thumb at her from between his fingers his memory obviously taking him back to the same place, and they shared a laugh. ‘No need to thank me; that’s what uncles are for.’

  ‘Well, I appreciate the offer,’ she said as he took his seat opposite, ‘But you’ve got your hands full with the stables.’ She cast him a sly grin. ‘Besides, I’m hoping I can tempt Constance into helping me out.’

  The corner of her uncle’s mouth tipped up in a cheeky smile. ‘I’ve got one or two things I’m hoping to tempt her into helping out with myself.’

  Iggy sputtered over her cornflakes. ‘You can’t say things like that!’

  Raising one shoulder, Lancelot gave an unrepentant shrug. ‘I think you’ll find I just did.’ He took a sip of his coffee, studying her over the rim of his cup in a way that made her want to squirm. ‘Never mind my love life, why don’t we talk about yours?’

  ‘Mine?’ Iggy squeaked. ‘What about mine?’

  ‘Don’t play coy with me, my girl. I’ve seen the way Will looks at you.’

  Pursing her lips, she made a rude noise at him. ‘Rubbish. He doesn’t look at me any particular way.’

  Lancelot snorted. ‘I’m not sure if you’re lying to yourself or just to me, but stop it.’ When she didn’t respond, his tone turned more encouraging. ‘He’s a good-looking man, darling. Decent, too, and bloody hard-working. Look at what he’s made of himself.’

  ‘I’m not disputing any of that. I was the one who brought him on board here, precisely because of what he’s achieved.’

  ‘Then what’s the problem? It’s not anything to do with that girl in the paper, is it?’ Lancelot tilted his head. ‘He’s only had eyes for you since he walked through the door, if you ask me.’

  No one is asking you. She tamped her lips of the cross words, knowing they would reveal far too much of the turmoil inside her. ‘I’m not looking for a relationship, right now.’

  Her uncle snorted again. ‘You haven’t been looking for a relationship since forever. There is such a thing as being too independent, take that from someone a lot older, though not necessarily any wiser than you.’

  Iggy bridled at that. ‘I don’t need a man in my life to complete it!’

  Lancelot smiled as wide and toothy as a crocodile sighting its prey. ‘Maybe not, but there are still lots of things in life that are much more fun if you have someone to do them with.’ His expression became serious. ‘Unless you don’t fancy the man? If that’s the case, then by all means tell me to shut up about him.’

  Tempting. It was so tempting to do just that, to deny she considered Will as anything other than a hired contractor. Only, they weren’t technically paying him to work from them-beyond giving him bed and board-and one extra mouth to feed was neither here nor there. Though it would make her life so much easier if she could, there was no denying the desperate attraction she felt towards him. ‘It’s not that I don’t like him …’ She trailed off, not sure how much she was willing to admit to Lancelot or herself.

  ‘Then what is it? Are you worried we won’t approve? Has someone else said something to you about it? You’ve never been one to shy away from what you wanted just to try and please someone else.’

  She shook her head. ‘Nothing like that. It’s just …
complicated.’ Which said nothing and everything all at the same time.

  Lancelot sent her a sympathetic smile over his cup. ‘Life is complicated, dearest girl. If you wait for things to be simple, you’ll find yourself waiting forever.’

  The wistful tone behind those words caught her attention. Beneath the laughing, loving face he’d always done his best to show them, she sensed a deep-seated sorrow. ‘Who broke your heart, Lancelot?’

  A shadow fell over his face, and he set down his cup. ‘It doesn’t matter now. It was a very long time ago.’

  Feeling like she’d stumbled onto something he clearly didn’t want to talk about, Iggy let it go. ‘Constance is fab, isn’t she?’

  He brightened at once, the cloud hanging over his brow disappearing to reveal the jovial, smile she was more used to seeing on his face. ‘She’s an absolute gem. We’ve talked most evenings since she was last here.’

  Well, it sounded like things were indeed going well between them. ‘I’m really pleased for you. For both of you.’ Checking her watch, she saw it was approaching 7 a.m. The Davises were due on site in an hour so she would have time now to have a walk around and see what progress they’d made. ‘I’m going to make a start on my day.’

  Lancelot watched her as she rose from the table and carried her bowl over to the empty tray on the sideboard from where Maxwell would clear it later. ‘Give the boy a chance, Iggy. Actually, no, give yourself a chance. A summer romance might be just what you need.’

  God, he was incorrigible. ‘Put your bow down, Cupid.’

  Laughing, her uncle mimed drawing back and arrow and firing it at her. ‘Love is in the air, darling girl. There’s no use in fighting it.’