‘And he was talking about Mother?’ When he nodded, Igraine was baffled. ‘But, how?’
Lancelot shrugged. ‘She didn’t need to go home as it turned out. In fact, I’m not sure anything she’d told me about her background was true. She’d given me the impression her people came from South Devon, that they had extensive landholdings down there. We’d even talked about the possibility of my setting up my own stud in the area, once I’d finished my apprenticeship at Johnny Lassiter’s yard. It was only years later that I found out she’d fallen out with her family and they’d all but cast her out.
‘Anyway, instead of going home as she’d claimed, she came north and managed somehow to insert herself into the local set. When she met your father, she already knew so much about him because I’d told her all about the family. With that prime knowledge, she was able to present herself as the perfect woman for him.’
Igraine couldn’t believe her ears. ‘She deliberately sought him out? God, I knew she could be calculating, but I had no idea she was capable of that kind of ruthlessness.’
‘The chance at landing the rich heir with the title, rather than his horse-mad younger brother with no real prospects other than those he could earn for himself was too tempting to resist, I suppose. We had no idea at the time how precarious our father’s finances were as he’d always hidden it from us. I was young and prideful, and determined to make my own way in life rather than sponge off him.’ He laughed. ‘It came as something of a shock when he finally sat Uther and your mother down after they were married and told them straight how dire things were. Crafty old man wanted to ensure the family line was secure for another generation.’
‘And what did you do when you found out she and Dad were together?’
‘What could I do? She laughed it off, made it sound like we were barely more than strangers to each other, and your father was so smitten, he wouldn’t hear a word against her. It caused a rift between us, one that only healed after she abandoned you all and your father called me in tears.’
Lancelot drained his mug. ‘After what she did to me, I found it impossible to trust another woman.’ His face softened into a warm smile. ‘Well, until my Connie showed up, that is. God, when I think about what I have now, that infatuation I had for your mother seems pathetic in comparison.’
Still reeling from it all, Iggy finished her own champagne. ‘We’ll have to tell the others.’
Her uncle shook his head. ‘Your Aunt Morgana knows every sordid little detail already, and as for your brothers, what’s the point? With any luck, she’ll beat a retreat once the wedding is over and done with, and things will get back to the way they used to be.’
‘And if they don’t?’
‘Helena never has had the attention span to stick to anything for very long. Once the fun and excitement of today is over, she’ll get bored and move onto the next shiny thing.’
‘I certainly hope so.’
Chapter 19
‘Well, you’ve really gone and done it then?’ Tristan said to Arthur as he hooked his arm through Iggy’s, linking the three of them into a line.
Arthur raised his eyes to where his new bride was chatting to her mother and Lancelot, the bouquet of dark red roses she clutched a vivid splash of colour against the bright white of her gown. ‘I really have,’ he agreed, his voice full of pride and adoration. ‘She’s perfect, isn’t she?’
He said it with so much enthusiasm, Iggy couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Yes, she really is.’
‘I’m just going to make sure she’s all right.’
As they watched him curl an arm around his wife’s waist and tug her close, Tristan squeezed Iggy’s arm. ‘Poor girl, he’s never going to let her go again.’
‘Probably not,’ she agreed with a grin. ‘Oh, look out we’re being summoned again.’
The photographer they’d hired for the official wedding photos had seemed like such a genial chap when they’d met him, and he still was to be honest. What none of them had banked on was his officious wife who acted as his assistant and had been marshalling everyone about like a general commanding the troops.
‘Just the immediate family now,’ she bellowed, pointing them towards the steps of the castle.
It took a bit of shuffling around as no one wanted to stand to close to Helena-not that it was physically possible to stand too close when she’d chosen to wear a hat roughly the size of a satellite dish. She’d needed half a pew to herself to accommodate the enormous brim, and Iggy had already had to duck a couple of times to avoid being whacked with it when her mother had turned to address some comment or other towards her. Since her uncle’s earlier revelations, Iggy had barely been able to look at her, never mind speak to her, but thankfully, Helena was too busy being the centre of attention to notice. Claiming Arthur’s free arm, she beamed at the camera, for all the world the perfect picture of attentive motherhood. It made Iggy quite sick to look at her.
Thankfully, Arthur’s patience with the photographer soon wore thin, and he declared an end to the formal poses. ‘That’s enough of that, you can take a few more in the gardens, and at the reception.’ Claiming Lucie’s arm once more, he glanced down at her. ‘Are you ready?’
‘I just need to change my shoes.’ The heels she’d worn for the ceremony itself wouldn’t last five minutes on the walk through the gardens.
‘Hang on, I’ll get your others,’ Iggy said, pushing open the front door to fetch the pair of sparkly wedges they’d stowed there ready. The same height as her stiletto heels, they would be much sturdier support on the uneven grass, as well as being a damn sight more comfortable.
With Lucie hanging onto both Arthur and Tristan for support, she and Constance managed to get under the back of her dress to swap the shoes out with a lot of laughter, but not too much fuss. Iggy was just backing out from beneath the wide lacy skirt when she caught a flash going off out of the corner of her eye and she spotted the photographer with a cheeky grin on his face. ‘Well, you did say you wanted some candid shots to balance out the formal,’ he said with a wink.’
‘We might not put these ones on the mantelpiece,’ Arthur said with a wry grin.
*
They strolled across the driveway, different groups coalescing, parting and forming up once more as people who hadn’t had a chance to catch up at the church exchanged greetings and congratulations with the happy couple. Another round of photos followed in the heart of the Lady’s garden-close family only-while Mrs W and Maxwell saw to escorting the rest of the guests on through the grounds towards the water gardens where the marquee was set up for the reception. Though she’d told Lancelot she would be fine, Iggy was happy to pose for as many blasted pictures as the photographer wanted to take, her stomach already churning at the thought of seeing Will’s finished creation for the first time.
Once the photos were over, Lucie tugged Arthur down to whisper something, and Iggy watched as he pressed a sweet kiss to her cheek before nodding. When he turned to face her, there was a sheen in his eyes. ‘Lucie would like to take a minute to visit the secret garden.’
Feeling her own eyes pool with tears, Iggy pressed her hand over her heart. ‘I think that would be a lovely idea.’ Rather than keep it hidden away, Iggy had arranged for the hedge cutters to clear a proper gap in the bushes she and Will had crawled through that day they’d first discovered the garden. Though Maxwell hadn’t been able to turn up a key to fit the old door, they’d had the lock replaced and a private-no admittance sign fitted to the outside.
As they made their way quietly into the garden, she paused to look around. It would take time to restore the garden to its full glory, but Iggy and Constance had at least had a chance to clear away the old ivy choking up the flower beds and around the tree. It still looked a little barren, but come next spring, the space would be alive with the scents and colours of daffodils, tulips and other pretty blooms. Moving to stand in the shelter of her uncle’s arm, Iggy bit her lip as Lucie crouched before the two stone dogs guar
ding the tiny grave and laid her bouquet next to them.
Feeling a tear escape, Iggy captured it with her finger, and leaned into Lancelot’s tight hug with a little laugh. ‘What a lovely touch,’ he murmured to her. Iggy nodded, still not quite trusting herself to speak.
Their contemplative mood didn’t last long when the family group exited the gardens to discover that rather than making their way down to the marquee, the rest of the guests had formed up in two rows to create an honour guard. ‘Whose idea was this?’ Lucie asked, with a delighted laugh as the guests clapped their hands together.
‘You can thank Tristan,’ Iggy said before moving to take up her position at the top end of the one of the lines and joining in the applause.
As Arthur and Lucie began to make their way along the corridor, whoops and cheers of congratulations rang out and handful after handful of confetti showered down upon their heads. Tristan had sourced it and handed it around the church as they’d waited for the ceremony to start, so they knew it was totally biodegradable and would cause no harm to the land.
The guests fell into line behind the happy couple, forming a huge, snaking line towards the steps which had been cut into the bank. As gasps of surprise and exclamations of wonder reached her position at the back of the queue, Iggy felt her insides tighten once more. A big hand engulfed hers, and she looked up to find her uncle on side, and Constance taking up position on the other. ‘Courage, mon brave!’ Lancelot said with a wink as he squeezed her hand. Feeling more determined, Iggy gave him a nod and they followed the crowd towards the gap cut into the screen of poplars.
Bracing herself for sadness, Iggy took her first proper look at the spectacle Will had envisioned, but never seen completed. Showers of water danced in the air, the crystalline droplets refracting the sunlight into a curtain of shimmering rainbows that stretched the full length of the bank on either side of the steps. Desperate to see the whole thing, Iggy dropped her uncle’s hand and gathered her skirts to skip down the rest of the steps and join the throng of guests who were all doing the same.
The fountains in each level of the terrace formed different patterns-some shot jets high into the air, others a low bank of murmuring water like a stream bubbling over rocks. As she watched, the patterns of the water shifted in unison to form a new combination, drawing oohs and aahs of delight.
Feeling nothing but joy in her heart, Lucie turned to smile at Lancelot and Constance as they approached her once more. ‘The boy did well,’ Lancelot said, quietly.
‘Yes. Yes, he did.’ Bittersweet emotion swelled in her heart. For what might have been, and for the stories her own ancestors might tell each other one day of another failed love story in their family history. Like the long-forgotten masterpiece Lucie had uncovered which told the tale of her many-times great-grandfather’s heartache, the water garden would forever be linked to the legacy of Iggy’s own doomed love affair.
All of a sudden, she couldn’t bear to look at it. ‘I’d better go and check everything is ready in the marquee before we start,’ she said, not missing the sympathetic look her uncle and Constance exchanged before she cut her way through the guests until their backs formed a shield between her and the dancing waters.
*
The reception proved the perfect mix of relaxation and enjoyment they’d all hoped it would be during the planning stages. Thankfully, some kind soul had switched off the fountains after the initial display so Iggy hadn’t been faced with the sight of them as she joined the others queuing up outside at the hog-roast station and later on in front of the ice cream van as she waited for a 99 cone with a cone and sticky raspberry sauce drizzled over the soft whipped peaks.
Champagne flowed, the speeches were short and sweet, including a very moving tribute Arthur paid to the memory of their father which had moved more than just Iggy to tears. The evening light was fading, and she kicked off her shoes and left her jacket hanging over the back of a chair somewhere hours before. Thanking her dance partner-an old school rugby pal of Arthur’s who’d taken something of a shine to her-Iggy retreated from the dancefloor to sink a little breathlessly into the chair beside Arthur. Like her, he’d shed his jacket and now sat with his sleeves rolled to his elbows, the buttons of his waistcoat hanging open and a slightly lopsided grin on his face. ‘Jimmy’s got his eye on you,’ he said, giving her a nudge.
‘Well, Jimmy can keep his eye and all the rest of his bits firmly to himself, thank you very much,’ she said, archly.
‘Don’t tell me you’re still pining for that bloody gardener,’ Helena slurred a little as he leaned across from the opposite side of the table. Her enormous hat had been removed, and Iggy had last seen it being worn on the dancefloor by Tristan. Fixing her slightly unfocused gaze on Iggy, she pointed a red-tipped nail at her. ‘I told you at the time he was only after one thing. Find yourself some nice, filthy rich idiot and settle down, for goodness sake.’
Anger bubbling in her gut, Iggy pushed the wagging finger out of her face. ‘You’re the last person I’m going to take relationship advice from. Why don’t you do us all a favour and piss off back to your own filthy rich idiot and leave us in peace?’
‘Iggy, come on now, don’t spoil it when we’ve had such a nice day,’ Arthur pleaded, ever the bloody peacemaker.
‘I’m not spoiling anything, it’s her. It’s always her, but you’re too blind to see it. She doesn’t give a stuff about any of us, never has, never will, and I hope you finally see that before she ruins everything.’ Iggy clamped a hand over her mouth before she let her words truly run away with her. She felt like she was teetering on the edge of a knife and if she stepped the wrong way, she’d slice not only herself to ribbons, but Arthur too. ‘I’m sorry, this isn’t the time. I’d better go back to the dancefloor before I say anything else.’
She rose from her chair and was surprised when their mother stood up to face her. ‘You should be thanking me for what I did!’ Turning, she pointed from Arthur to Tristan who’d wandered over to join them, the ridiculous hat still perched on the back of his head. ‘You should all be thanking me.’
‘Christ, what’s this?’ Tristan said, grabbing a bottle of beer from the table and taking a swig. ‘You’ve had too much champagne, Mother, why don’t you go back to your room and have a lie-down?’
‘Don’t you think you can dismiss me! If it wasn’t for me, your future wouldn’t be looking so damn rosy.’ Helena’s face had grown red, her volume increasing to the point she was beginning to draw stares from people around them.
‘What the hell is she talking about?’ Tristan asked, then turned to her. ‘What are you trying to say, Mother?’
‘You know! If it hadn’t been for me talking to the papers, you’d still be scrabbling around trying to sell tickets for your grand opening.’ She rounded on Iggy, that red, shiny nail jabbing in her direction once more. ‘And you’d still be fooling yourself that Will wanted you for anything more than a bed-warmer. I showed you what kind of man he is, and saved the family fortunes in the process. So, yes, you should be thanking me!’ With a satisfied nod, she flopped down into her chair.
Knees giving out, Iggy found herself dropping down into her own seat. ‘I don’t bloody believe it.’ Will had been right all along. Someone in the family had betrayed them.
‘But why would you do such a thing?’ Arthur leaned across the table towards Helena. ‘Why would you sell your own daughter out like that?
Helena glanced away with a shrug. ‘I needed the money. Beaumont left me high and dry, and I was desperate. I kept waiting for you to do the right thing by me, especially once I found out about that damn painting you were keeping hidden from me, but you always were too stupid to catch the hint.’
He reared back, her cold words landing as harsh as a slap. ‘I thought you came here because you read about the engagement.’
‘And so I did. Like I told you, I assumed you’d bagged yourself an heiress to put the finances to rights, but instead you’d fallen for that little drip w
ithout a penny to her name. If she hadn’t let it slip on the first night about the Viggliorento, do you honestly think I would’ve stuck around all this time?’
‘Jesus Christ.’ Tristan sounded as shocked as she felt, and both he and Iggy knew how poisonous their mother could be. Poor Arthur, though …
Iggy turned to offer him comfort, but instead of the devastation she expected to see, his face was fixed in a firm expression of resolve. ‘Get out,’ he said to their mother, his voice deadly calm. ‘Stand up, turn around and walk out of here or I swear to God I will climb over this table and throw you out.’
‘But, Arthur-’
‘Now!’ He sounded so fierce Iggy found herself clamping a hand on his shoulder for fear he really would do as he’d just threatened.
‘Hell’s bells, I’m too old to rock and roll anymore,’ Lancelot said, as he strolled up with one arm around Constance’s waist, the other hooked around Lucie’s shoulder. ‘These two will put me into an early grave.’ Sensing the mood, his smile faded. ‘Everything all right here?’
‘Everything’s fine. Mother was just leaving,’ Arthur said in that same flat tone.
‘Well, about time. Here, let me give you a hand.’ Lancelot all but hauled Helena to her feet, hooked his arm through hers and had towed her halfway across the marquee before Helena had so much as a chance to squawk in protest.’
‘What was that all about?’ Lucie rounded the table to stand at Arthur’s side. ‘What’s going on?’
Her hand on his arm seemed to be all it took to shatter the icy façade, and Arthur raised his face to hers with a tired smile. ‘Nothing you need worry yourself about. Not now, not ever. Come on my beautiful bride, dance with me.’
Lucie cast a wary look at Iggy as Arthur led her away but didn’t protest. As soon as the pair of the reached the centre of the floor, the DJ switched the music to something slow and the rest of the dancers either settled into couples or drifted from the floor to retake their seats.
The Bluebell Castle Collection Page 47
