The Bluebell Castle Collection

by Sarah Bennett

  Weaving her way through the plants, she noted there were already two or three groupings of seats which would serve perfectly as reading or contemplation spots for guests. She wouldn’t have to do much more than add a few comforting touches like soft throws, not that anyone would get cold per se, but just for the snuggle factor. It wasn’t just the view inside either. The orangery backed onto a rolling lawn and beyond that was the rear of the stables, the stone walls thick with ivy. Towards the far end, she could see the edge of the woods, the leaves on the cusp of turning were still more green than brown but hinting at a glorious autumnal display to come. In the heart of winter, with perhaps even a dash of snow on the ground, the contrast between the inside and outside would be even more stunning.

  Having made her way back to the centre of the room, Jess used a set of double glass doors to let herself into the library. The variance between the warm, slightly heavy air of the orangery and the dry, leather-filled scent of the books lining the shelves was another sensory delight. As she trailed a finger lightly over the spines to her left, she pictured the kind of furniture she wanted to install in the large, empty centre of the room. A couple of sofas facing each other over a coffee table, perhaps a chair or two off set in quieter corners for anyone seeking solitude with a book. A thump from somewhere overhead startled her. ‘Hello?’

  ‘Oh!’ She recognised Lucie’s startled voice before the redhead came to peer down over the railing of the upper mezzanine floor. ‘I didn’t hear you come in. How’s it all going?’

  Jess couldn’t help but return the other woman’s warm smile. She didn’t know her very well yet, but what she’d seen so far had given her a glimpse into a kind and generous heart. A sweet foil for Arthur’s more outgoing nature, she liked the way they complemented each other, how Lucie shone in his obvious affection, how he softened in her quieter presence. ‘It’s good. Great, actually. I’ve been scouting around some possible locations for our guests to use over Christmas.’

  ‘And you were thinking of the library as one of them?’

  The slight hesitancy in Lucie’s voice brought Jess up short. ‘Is that going to be a problem? I didn’t realise it got much use.’

  ‘Only by me. This is my office.’ Lucie spread her arms to encompass the mezzanine. ‘I’m building the family record archive up here.’ Perhaps Jess’s expression gave away some of the disappointment she was feeling, because Lucie began to hurry down the stairs towards her. ‘Don’t worry, though! It’s not like I’m planning to do much work, if any, over the holidays, and I can always sort out what I think I’ll need beforehand and transfer it to Arthur’s office.’

  ‘I don’t want to put you to any trouble. The idea is to try and make this work with as little disruption to you and the rest of the family as possible.’

  Lucie laughed. ‘Arthur and I have already resigned ourselves to hosting duties. Oh, don’t look so worried, we’re quite looking forward to it. It will be our first proper outing as Sir Arthur and Lady Lucinda Ludworth.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Lord, what a mouthful that is!’

  Jess couldn’t help giggling. ‘It does make you sound terribly posh.’

  ‘And I’m anything but. Morgana has been trying to teach me all the proper etiquette for things like afternoon tea, but I’m rubbish at it compared to her.’ A suspicious gleam entered her eye. ‘I’ll have to get her to invite you to tea. It’s an experience not to be missed.’

  ‘I’m not sure that sounds an entirely good thing …’

  ‘Lucie grinned. ‘Oh, no, it’s wonderful, I promise. We might even be able to persuade her to host one for the ladies over Christmas. She really is a marvellous hostess, and I’m sure the guests would love to hear stories of how life in the castle has changed over her lifetime.’

  ‘Well, if you think she’d do it, it sounds like a brilliant idea.’ Tim and Charlie sprang to mind. If they did indeed book to come, then Tim with his sweet tooth would die at the chance for proper afternoon tea. ‘It might appeal to some of our gentlemen guests, too. Do you think she’d object to a unisex event? We can balance it with another more rigorous outdoor activity to keep the numbers manageable.’

  ‘I don’t see why not. Let’s see if we can have a chat with her when we gather before dinner. We could give her the option then to pick and choose whether she attends any of the other group meals. I know she’s keen to play her part, but I don’t want her to feel obligated.’

  ‘That’s a really good idea. I certainly don’t want anyone in the family to feel obligated to participate, which is one of the reasons I want to establish a clear division of spaces where both the guests and you guys can relax in private.’ Jess glanced around them at the rows of shelves. ‘This is such an atmospheric room which is why I wanted to use it. And the orangery as well. I also want to use one of the bigger drawing rooms, hopefully one quite close to where we are now so they’re all interlinked.’

  ‘Have you seen the west drawing room? It’s just along the corridor.’ Lucie pointed to the door opposite the one where Jess had entered.

  ‘I’ve seen quite a few of them, I can’t remember all their names to be honest.’

  ‘Here, I’ll show you.’ Lucie led the way, turning left just after they left the dining room and pushed open a door not more than fifty feet away. ‘I thought it was a bit spooky when I first inspected it when I was updating the castle inventory.’

  As soon as she saw inside, Jess remembered the rather gloomy room and her excitement waned a bit. It would take a lot of work to create an inviting space here.

  After flipping on the lights, Lucie hurried across the room to draw back the thick, heavy drapes. ‘Once you let the light in, it totally transforms it.’ Moving at right angles, she drew another set of curtains. ‘See?’

  Jess blinked at the transformation. With light flooding in through the huge picture windows, it was already a million times more welcoming. Feeling better, she began to inspect it more closely. ‘This fireplace is lovely, and the mantel is nice and wide, perfect for decorating.’

  ‘Yes,’ Lucie agreed, coming to stand beside her. ‘A roaring blaze in there would make such a difference.’

  Her little sigh made Jess turn to face her. ‘What is it?’

  ‘I have a theory that this was once used by Thomas and Eudora, and that’s why it always makes me feel a little bit sad when I come in here.’

  ‘Who are they?’

  Pushing aside the protective covering on a nearby sofa, Lucie sat then patted the seat beside her, inviting Jess to join her. ‘Thomas was Arthur’s several times great-grandfather. It’s because of him that all his ancestors have those mad names. He was absolutely obsessed with King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table, to the point he developed a theory that Camland was once the ancient seat of Camelot.’

  ‘I thought that was in Somerset? My parents live about forty minutes from Glastonbury and everything down that way is linked to the legends.’

  Lucie shrugged. ‘I know, but I did a little bit of digging and there are some alternative suggestions that the original Arthur was a northern warlord. Anyway, Thomas latched onto the idea and when he got married, he and his wife named their four children after various characters from the legend, and it was a tradition passed down through the first-born line ever since.’ She pulled a face. ‘I know Arthur’s going to want to do the same. He’s going to have to give me a very big bribe, that’s all I can say.’

  ‘Make sure it’s a very big bribe. Eudora must’ve been a very understanding woman.’ More understanding than Jess thought she might be in the circumstances.

  ‘Oh, Thomas never married Eudora! Silly me, of course, you won’t know the story. Thomas ran around with a very arty set in his youth and fell for Eudora, who was an artist’s model in a grand passion. He commissioned a painting of her to commemorate his love for her only she upped and ran off with the artist, leaving poor Thomas devastated. He walled up the painting and tried to banish her from his mind, and eventually moved on and married. I
don’t think he ever forgot her though – I found a sketch of Eudora in one of the drawers of that desk over there.’ She pointed to a shrouded piece in the corner. ‘That’s how I got on the trail of the painting, you see.’

  The painting Tristan had told her had been instrumental in saving the family fortunes. As the pieces tumbled into place in her mind, Jess looked around the room. If she could tie the theme of the room into this fantastic family legend, the guests would love it. ‘Do you still have the sketch?’

  Lucie laughed. ‘Oh, yes. It’s locked in the safe in Arthur’s room. It’s unsigned, but it’s been authenticated as a preparatory sketch JJ Viggliorento did before he painted Eudora’s portrait.’

  Jess whistled through her teeth, recognising at once the name of one the most famous British artists of the past couple of hundred years. No wonder they’d been able to save the family with one painting if it was an original Viggliorento. ‘Well, that puts my plan of hanging it on the wall in here out of the question!’

  ‘Yeah.’ Lucie scrunched her nose in thought. ‘I could try and get a copy made, and there’s a portrait of Thomas in the long gallery we could relocate here while the guests are staying. And I’d be happy to give them a private tour upstairs to show them the secret passage where we found the painting. Though I’d have to check with Arthur first because it runs from our private suite to the castle’s tower, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind it as a one-off.’

  Jess shook her head. ‘No. We can’t be invading your personal space like that.’

  ‘Well, there is an external door into the tower, so we could do it that way. Take them inside and show them that end of the tunnel and keep the door at the other end into our rooms locked. JJ used the tower as his studio, you see, so we can give them all the lurid titbits of the illicit romance by showing them how Eudora crept in to see him.’

  ‘Okay, you’ve sold me! We’re definitely going to use this room. I think the guests will love a bit of family history, especially when it’s such a juicy story.’

  A cough and a grumble came through the speaker on her phone, and she pulled it out of her back pocket. Tilting the screen to show Lucie the image of Isaac stirring on her baby monitoring app, she couldn’t help but smile. He looked like an angel, those dark curls he’d inherited from her tumbling over his forehead. He was in dire need of a haircut, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to snip away the last of his baby locks just yet. ‘Looks like someone is about to wake up.’

  ‘Such an angel,’ Lucie said, echoing her thoughts. As though he’d heard them talking, even though Jess had muted her end of the app, Isaac scrunched up his face and gave an outraged bellow at waking up alone.

  ‘That’s my cue. I’ll see you at dinner, if not before!’

  ‘Okay, don’t forget we’re going to have that conversation with Morgana, too.’

  ‘Thanks, I appreciate your help, Lucie,’ Jess called over her shoulder, her pace already quickening as another yell of displeasure echoed from the screen in her hand. Turning on her mic, she began to reassure Isaac she was on the way.

  Unfortunately, Isaac’s bad mood lasted for the entire walk down to fetch Elijah from school and back, and well into the early evening. She’d thought at first his cheek was red from where he’d been laying on it, but a feel around his mouth when they’d returned revealed the rough edge of a tooth just breaking through his gum. Of course, when she checked in the bathroom, there was no sign of the tube of soothing gel she was sure she’d packed, and she hadn’t got around to putting any of his teething rings in the ice box. An emergency run to the kitchen had secured some ice wrapped in a clean flannel and resulted in Isaac being ‘kidnapped’ by both Betsy, the cook, and Mrs W which had at least given Jess a chance to spend an hour one-on-one with Elijah going through his day at school. With him settled happily on the cosy rug in the playroom in front of his favourite cartoon, she headed back downstairs to retrieve Isaac so the ladies could finish preparations for dinner in peace.

  Halfway along the first-floor corridor, a bedroom door swung open and Tristan stepped out in a cloud of warm, amber aftershave, his shaggy hair still damp at the back from a shower. The navy linen jacket he’d teamed with dark denim and a red and white checked shirt looked a little formal for dinner with the family. He looked smart enough to be on a date. A set of keys jangled in his hand as he closed the door behind him. Oh. It looked like he was going out, after all, and given it was Friday night and he was very handsome and very single, then why wouldn’t he be going on a date? She wasn’t quite sure why, but the idea of it bothered her. The boys were just getting used to everyone in the castle, if Tristan was going to introduce somebody new to the equation, it could throw the balance. Yes, that was the only possible concern she might have over Tristan’s personal life. ‘Off out somewhere nice?’

  ‘What?’ His startled greeting proved he hadn’t noticed her until she spoke. ‘Oh, hi, Jess. Umm, yeah, I’m popping into town to meet, umm … a mate of mine.’

  The sudden rush of relief she felt threw her totally off balance, and it took her a few moments to register his awkwardness through her own. In all the years she’d known him, she’d never seen him flustered, never mind as outright uncomfortable as he looked now. ‘Is everything all right?’

  ‘Yes, yes, everything’s fine. No problems here, how about you?’ With a stain of red on his high cheekbones and the way his eyes met hers for a second before skating away, he looked like a man with a guilty secret.

  Nonplussed, Jess replied. ‘Isaac’s been having a bit of trouble with a new tooth today, but other than that I’m good.’

  ‘Good. That’s good, well I’d better get going. See you later!’

  Staring at his retreating back, Jess didn’t know what to do other than shake her head. It had been like talking with a stranger, not the warm, affable, caring man who’d met her at the gates on Monday night. She couldn’t believe he’d brushed off her comment about Isaac without even bothering to ask how he was. Not when he’d shown nothing but kindness and concern for both her boys from the moment they’d arrived. Who are you, and what have you done with Tristan?

  Now, she thought about it, he’d been distracted over breakfast which was the last time she’d seen him, and he and Arthur had left the breakfast table together and disappeared into Arthur’s study. Had something happened, something that might affect her job? They hadn’t officially agreed any terms, she didn’t even have anything in writing from him stating his intention to hire her. If they’d changed their mind, decided the budget didn’t include enough money to pay Jess, she wouldn’t have a leg to stand on. Gripped by panic, she ran after him but by the time she reached the balustrade overlooking the great hall the only sign he’d passed through there was the forlorn-looking terrier staring up at the closed front door.

  As she reached the bottom of the stairs, Pippin came over to greet her. Sitting down, she scratched him behind the ears. ‘What’s got into your master, eh, Pip?’ The terrier whined and licked her hand. ‘I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about,’ she said, lifting the dog into her lap for a cuddle and wishing like hell she could believe it.

  Chapter 8

  It was late by the time Tristan let himself back into the castle. Closing the door behind him, he shushed the sleepy dogs who’d padded over to greet him, walking them back to the tumble of cushions in front of the fireplace and crouching down to stroke one or two until they settled back down to their slumbers. Only Pippin refused to sit, the little terrier circling his ankles like he’d been gone for a month rather than a couple of hours.

  Though he should probably head straight upstairs to his own bed, there were too many thoughts chasing around inside his mind for him to be able to get any sleep. Hoping a brandy might help him unwind, he wandered instead towards the family room, Pippin at his heels.

  On entering, he was surprised to find a lamp still lit, casting a small circle of light over a supine figure curled up on one of the sofas. Though a tangle of dark curls obs
cured her face, he knew instantly who it was, and his heart skipped a beat. ‘Jess?’

  There was no response to his quiet question, and he realised she was out like a light. The fire had burnt down to little more than a few glowing ashes in the grate, leaving a slight chill in the air. Pulling a throw off the back of the sofa, he placed it gently over the lower half of her body. Though she shifted a little at the touch of the soft material, she didn’t wake. Leaving her to sleep, he poured a good slug of brandy into a glass and settled into the armchair across from her to turn over the events of the past few hours in his mind.

  Already regretting his decision to arrange a date with Nicky, a woman he’d been chatting to on one of the dating apps, almost bumping into Jess whilst trying to slip out unnoticed had thrown him completely off guard. He’d told himself it was stupid to feel guilty, that he owed Jess no loyalty other than that of a friend and colleague, but it hadn’t stopped him feeling like he was making the biggest mistake of his life. It was a feeling that had only grown over the course of the evening. Not that there had been anything wrong with Nicky. In fact, she’d been as charming and funny as she’d come across in her messages. They’d met in a popular bar, but it had still been early enough for them to find a quiet table in the corner where they could talk, away from the speakers pumping out music over the bar.

  A junior solicitor, with hopes of making partner in the next year or two, Nicky had been frank about her previous relationship ending because her other half had resented the amount of time she’d been spending at work. Tristan had admired her ambition, and under any other circumstances would have found that drive to succeed sexy as hell. The same went for the black dress she’d worn, fitted in all the right places with a soft floaty skirt that skimmed the top of her knees. Classy. Pretty. Smart as a whip. She ticked every box on his list, except for one. She wasn’t the woman he wanted. He’d told her as much over their second drink, and to his relief she’d laughed, but told him he still owed her dinner.