The Bluebell Castle Collection

by Sarah Bennett

  They’d moved onto the Italian restaurant she’d suggested, and the rest of the evening had passed in pleasant conversation. Though she’d asked, he’d refused to be drawn much on Jess, feeling it really was too low to talk about another woman even if they weren’t officially on a date anymore. Nicky had shared a few anecdotes about some of the other men she’d met on the app, leaving him with no doubt he’d be the subject of one her stories soon enough. By the time they parted on the pavement, they were well on the way to being friends and he’d promised to give her and her parents a guided tour one weekend if she brought them over to the castle for a day out.

  So what was he going to do now? Two-thirds of the way down his brandy and he still had no idea. Nothing had changed. With a sigh, he reached out to set his glass down on the table, but he misjudged his aim in the dim light and sent the slate coaster rattling off the edge and onto the floor, the noise startling Pippin who’d been slumbering at his feet. The calming hand he set on the terrier’s head came a moment too late to stop the high yip of surprise. Damn.

  ‘Huh?’ Jess sat up, spilling the throw he’d placed over her onto the carpet. ‘Oh, did I fall asleep?’ She reached for the phone beside her, checking something on the screen. ‘Goodness, it’s late. Why didn’t you wake me?’

  ‘You looked too peaceful to disturb. I was just finishing my brandy and then I was going to wake you before I went up. What were you doing down here?’

  Jess rubbed her eyes, then swept her hands back over her hair to settle it in a neat fall down her back. ‘I was waiting for you.’

  His stupid heart faltered, but he managed to keep a firm grip on his hopes. ‘What was so important it couldn’t wait until morning?’

  Uncurling her legs, she set her feet on the floor and leaned towards him, elbows resting on her knees. ‘I don’t know, Tristan, you tell me. You were so odd when I saw you this afternoon that I’ve been worrying all evening about it. Look, if you’ve changed your mind about us being here, just tell me straight. God knows I’ll have to live with weeks of “I told you sos” from my mother, and wrenching Elijah out of school when he’s getting settled is the last thing I want, but I’d rather you told me the truth so at least I have the weekend to try and sort things out.’

  Whatever he’d been expecting her to say, even hoping she might say, it certainly wasn’t this. ‘What on earth put that idea inside your head? Do you think me so untrustworthy that I’d offer you a job knowing your circumstances and then pull the rug out from under you?’ He couldn’t help the hurt creeping into his voice.

  Throwing her hands up, Jess scowled at him. ‘What was I supposed to think when you treated me like a stranger, earlier? You couldn’t wait to get away from me, so what else was I supposed to think.’

  ‘Jesus Christ, not that. You must think me a first-class shit if you think me capable of doing that to you, or the boys for that matter.’ Grabbing for his brandy, Tristan downed the last of it then crossed to the cabinet to splash more in his glass.

  ‘Then what is the problem?’ Jess twisted round in her seat to face him.

  ‘It was nothing.’ He sipped at the brandy, wishing like hell he’d gone straight up to bed as soon as he’d got in.

  ‘Fine. If you’re going to be like that I might as well go to bed. Isaac’s feeling better, by the way,’ she snapped as she stood and headed to the door.

  ‘Wait, what? Hold on, what do you mean he’s feeling better. What was wrong with him?’

  ‘You really didn’t hear a thing I said to you this afternoon, did you?’

  Embarrassed, he stared down at his glass of brandy. ‘I was a bit distracted.’ He raised his head. ‘Isaac is okay, though?’

  She nodded, wearily. ‘Teething, so he had a pretty miserable afternoon and evening. He enjoyed being fussed over by Betsy and Mrs W, though and once I managed to chill his teething ring, he calmed down a bit. He had a spoonful of Calpol as he was a bit feverish before bed and thankfully dropped off during story time and hasn’t made a peep since.’

  ‘I’m sorry I left you to deal with all that.’

  ‘Not your problem, is it? I didn’t expect you to drop everything and sit by his bedside, but I didn’t expect you to brush me off like that, this afternoon.’ Jess folded her arms around her middle, in a way that made her look small and vulnerable. ‘God, Tristan, I’m sorry. I should be the one apologising. I’ve been using you all week as a substitute for Steve, and that’s not fair on you. Getting used to handling the boys on my own has been a bit of a shock to the system, that’s all.’

  The smile she gave him was so sad he wanted to vault over the sofa and drag her into his arms. He clenched his hand around his glass, forcing his feet to remain on the spot. ‘You don’t have to be sorry, I’ve been really enjoying spending time with them. No one expects you to do this on your own, I told you when I offered you the job that we’d all be happy to pitch in and help, and I meant it.’

  ‘Thank you.’ She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, seemed to catch what she was doing and dropped them to her sides. ‘Anyway. we’ve got our routine sorted, so I’ll make sure I remember the boundaries from now on. And, I’m sorry again for overreacting. I had a bit of a panic over not having a contract in place for my work here.’

  Tristan felt a bit sick over the fact it hadn’t even occurred to him. He knew his word was solid as a rock, but he didn’t have anyone else to worry about other than himself. ‘I’ll make sure there’s something drawn up for us to discuss on Monday along with everything else. Arthur had the solicitor draft an agreement for Lucie when she started working here, I’ll get a copy and we can make any amendments necessary.’

  ‘That would be good. I’m sorry, I know you’re not going to just turf us out, I don’t know how such a foolish notion got into my head.’

  ‘We still should’ve put it in writing for you.’ Shoving his glass onto the sideboard, Tristan rounded the sofa to stand in front of her. ‘I’m sorry I made you feel vulnerable about your position here, it was the last thing I wanted to do.’ Don’t do it. Leave it at that and let her go to bed. Ignoring the sensible voice in his head, Tristan reached for her hand. ‘I went out on a date tonight. That’s where I was going when I bumped into you, and I didn’t want to say anything.’

  Cheeks reddening, Jess ducked her head until her hair spilled forward to shield her eyes from him. ‘Oh. I wondered as much, but then you said you were meeting a mate …’ She glanced up at him through a spill of curls. ‘Your private life is your own, you don’t have to explain yourself to me.’ She would’ve pulled her hand free if he’d been willing to let it go.

  ‘But I want to.’ Turning her hand over, he smoothed his thumb over the plump softness of her palm. ‘The woman I met tonight should’ve been perfect for me, but she wasn’t.’

  ‘Tristan.’

  ‘Shh. Don’t say anything, just listen to me for a minute. I know it’s too soon, but I’m going to lay my cards on the table. I’m not saying you’re the perfect woman for me, Jess, but damn it, I think you might be and I’m tired of pretending otherwise. I’m happy to wait for as long as you want me to. If you want me to.’

  Her fingers closed around his thumb. ‘But how am I supposed to know? And say I was attracted to you, it’s going to take Steve and I at least a couple of years to resolve everything legally. I can’t ask you to wait that long.’

  Tristan edged a little closer, brushing a curl from her forehead with his free hand. ‘You can if that’s what you need.’

  Her head dropped to rest on her chest. ‘I don’t know what I need,’ she whispered.

  Knowing he’d already pushed too far, Tristan bent to press a kiss to the top of her hair then released her hand and stepped back. ‘You don’t need to do anything other than take care of your boys and do the job I’m hiring you to do.’

  When her incredulous eyes met his, he nodded to show he was serious. ‘I’ve laid down my cards because it didn’t feel like I was being honest with you if I didn’t
. But there’s no obligation for you to pick them up. Not tonight; not ever. I’ll not even speak of it again, unless you bring it up.’

  ‘I don’t know what to say …’

  Just don’t say no, not without thinking about it first. Instead of saying that, he took her shoulders in a gentle grip, and turned her towards the door. ‘Say good night.’ Releasing her, he returned to the sideboard to retrieve his brandy, keeping his back to the room.

  The silence stretched so long between them until every nerve and fibre of his body braced for the rejection he felt sure she was working up to.

  ‘Good night.’ It was barely a whisper, followed almost immediately by the snick of the door closing behind her.

  Raising his brandy in a mocking toast to his reflection in the glass window of the drink’s cabinet, he drained it and set it down with a click. ‘Tristan Ludworth, you’re a bloody idiot,’ he told himself, with a sigh. She hadn’t said no, at least, and that gave him hope. It was only as he reached the top of the stairs and turned towards his bedroom that the old adage came unwelcome to his mind. It’s the hope that kills you.

  The next morning he managed to catch his brother and Lucie before they entered the dining room for breakfast. ‘Hey, Luce, I need to borrow Arthur for a bit. Any chance you can take Jess and the kids out to explore some of the grounds this morning?’

  ‘Of course, it’s such a lovely day we should try and make the most of it. I’ll see if Mum and Lancelot want to come with us. I can take them to see the stone circle.’ One of Tristan’s forebears had created the folly in the heart of the woods, a scaled-down replica of the huge ancient monolith which rose on an escarpment overlooking the dales a few miles from their boundary line.

  ‘Thanks, you’re a star.’ He pecked Lucie on the cheek, then ushered them towards the dining room.

  ‘Nothing wrong, is there?’ Arthur asked, resisting when Tristan tried to push him forward. Though he’d not been on the rugby pitch for some years, Arthur retained the solid bulk of a prop, and nothing would move him until he was ready to move.

  ‘Just need to pick your brains, that’s all,’ Tristan assured him.

  ‘Well that’ll be a bloody short conversation!’ Arthur tapped the side of his skull.

  Jess was already in the dining room with Isaac strapped into his highchair and Elijah perched on her knee eating a slice of toast. Though she greeted Lucie’s suggestion with enthusiasm, the silent look she cast in Tristan’s direction said plain enough she knew where the idea had originated.

  Having seen the exploration party off with a wave and a kiss for his wife, Arthur closed the front door and leaned back against it, arms folded. ‘Are you going to tell me how you got on last night?’

  They’d always told each other everything, so of course he’d sought his brother’s help before finally posting a profile on the dating apps. ‘She was very nice.’

  Arthur snorted. ‘I sense a but, coming.’

  ‘But, she’s not the one for me.’

  ‘And who is the one for you?’ Rolling his eyes, Arthur uncrossed his arms and pushed away from the door. ‘Oh, bloody hell, Tristan, no.’

  Tristan shrugged. ‘What can I say?’

  ‘You can say that you’re not in love with a married woman with two little kids,’ Arthur retorted, voice full of exasperation. When Tristan remained silent his brother raised his hands to his head and pretended to yank out handfuls of his hair. ‘You’re an idiot.’

  ‘Probably.’ Tristan agreed. ‘I think it’s genetic.’

  They laughed before Arthur’s expression grew serious again. ‘So, what are you going to do about it?’

  ‘Nothing. The ball’s in her half of the pitch. She’ll either pick it up when she’s ready to play, or kick me into touch.’

  ‘Okay then.’ Moving in, Arthur gave him a quick hug then a slap on the shoulder. ‘You’ll let me know if I can do anything?’

  ‘Sure. But Jess isn’t what I wanted to talk to you about. Grab your coat, I’ve got something I want to show you.’

  Arthur circled the old gatehouse, peering through each of the windows in turn much as Tristan had done a few nights before. ‘It’s a bit of a tip.’

  ‘Nothing that can’t be put right, though.’ Stepping up beside him, Tristan cupped his hands to the glass and studied the main living room. ‘I can’t see any sign of damp, so I think the roof is sound. All it needs is gutting, redecorating and some modern fixtures and fittings. Apart from the plumbing, I reckon I can do pretty much everything else. I’ve got plenty of savings put away so I’m not asking you to fund any of it.’

  Arthur straightened up to face him. ‘You just want my permission to do it?’

  ‘Yes. Unless you have plans for it, yourself, of course.’

  That drew a laugh from his brother. ‘I can’t say I’ve given it a single thought for years, even though I drive past it every day.’ Tucking his hands in the pockets of his Barbour jacket, he began to wander around to the rear of the gatehouse once more. ‘And the plan is to set up your own events management business?’

  Tristan nodded. ‘I’ll still do as much as you want me to as far as the castle is concerned, but I figured that will gradually tail off as things get established and you need me less.’

  Arthur raised an eyebrow. ‘What gives you the idea I’m going to need you any less than I do now?’

  ‘I don’t know, I just figured the more settled into your role you become, the less there’ll be for me to do.’

  ‘At least you’re not abandoning me like Iggy did.’ Arthur said with a scowl. ‘When you told me you wanted to talk, I assumed you were going to tell me you wanted to go back to London in the new year, and that’s what this business with bringing Jess to work here was all about.’

  ‘What on earth are you talking about? I told you I’d handed my notice in.’

  ‘I know you did, but then in the next breath you said you’d recruited some old friend of yours to organise the house party as she was perfect for the job, so I figured you were hedging your bets.’ A sly look came into his brother’s eyes. ‘That’s before I realised you’d lured her up here in the hopes she’d fall madly in love with you.’

  ‘Balls! That’s not why I offered her the job.’ At Arthur’s raised eyebrow, he relented. ‘Well, not consciously anyway. She’s really good, Arthur. I wouldn’t jeopardise the castle’s future like that.’

  ‘I know, I’m only pulling your leg. Big brother’s prerogative.’

  It was Tristan’s turn to roll his eyes. ‘Five minutes doesn’t give you that much clout.’ Only it had. Those five minutes had decided the future for all of them, making Arthur the first-born son and heir instead of him. ‘You know why Iggy had to go, don’t you?’

  Their sister was the eldest of the three of them, but ancient inheritance rules entailed the title and estates to the first eligible male heir. Since leaving university, it had been Iggy who’d managed the bulk of their estate on behalf of their father, including running the household as their aunt Morgana had taken a step back. When Arthur married, she’d worried Lucie wouldn’t feel comfortable in her role as the lady of the castle with her looking over her shoulder, so Iggy had taken the tough decision to move away.

  ‘No. I don’t know why she had to bloody go!’ Arthur kicked a loose stone which had fallen from one of the external windowsills. ‘Oh, I heard all that stuff about not wanting to usurp Lucie’s place, and it’s rubbish. My darling wife couldn’t give two figs about running the castle, she’s got her own career and one she’s very happy with. Now she’s stuck pretending she cares about menu planning, and which of the tenant farmer’s wives has had a new baby, and all the other stuff Iggy used to handle with her eyes shut.’

  Tristan groaned. ‘And have you told her this?’

  Arthur kicked the stone again. ‘How could I? She wanted to go off with Will and I wasn’t going to stand in her way now, was I?’

  ‘What a pair of idiots you both are! She didn’t want to leave, and you
wanted her to stay and yet neither of you said so.’

  Arthur leaned back against the wall of the gatehouse then slid down to sit on the scruffy grass with a sigh. ‘It’s genetic.’

  Laughing, Tristan slumped down next to him. ‘Arthur,’ he said, clapping a hand on his brother’s thigh. ‘I don’t want to leave Bluebell Castle.’

  Slapping his hand down on top of Tristan’s Arthur gave it a squeeze. ‘Good, because I don’t want you to bloody well leave.’

  Chapter 9

  It was like Tristan had turned the clock back to those awkward, painful weeks after the Christmas party kiss that never was, and Jess was furious with him for it. They’d been getting back to that lovely easy friendship they’d first enjoyed, and he’d thrown not just a spanner, but an entire bloody toolbox into the works. She rubbed her fingers over her palm feeling the ghost of his thumb stroking it, a reflex action she caught herself making numerous times a day. Several times over the weekend following his outrageous promise she’d contemplated packing the boys up and making a run for it, certain she’d not be able to face Tristan without blushing and generally acting like such a fool the entire household would soon be aware there was something going on between them. Which would make the whole situation ten times worse because there wasn’t anything going on between them – there couldn’t be.

  But how could she do it to Elijah? Drag him away from somewhere he clearly adored being. Over the weeks when she and Steve had been unpicking their life together, she’d watched, helpless as her darling boy crept ever deeper into a protective shell. During their exploration of the woods, Lancelot had hoisted him into the air and spun him around and around eliciting giggles of delight which had bubbled through her bloodstream like the finest champagne. Hearing the pure joy and excitement in that sound had driven home how rare it had become, how much her sunny, funny little man had withdrawn into himself.

  Isaac too was thriving on all the attention, and for all she’d told Tristan she could and would manage her family without help, her baby boy spent more time in the company of the older residents of the castle than he did in the playpen she’d set up for him in the corner of her sitting room when she was working during the day. If it wasn’t Betsy popping up with a flask of tea and some treat or other she’d baked and casually offering to take Isaac out for a stroll around, it was Constance or Lucie seeking her out for a quick chat that somehow led to them bearing him off to ‘give her a bit of peace and quiet’, like the two of them didn’t have their own work to do. In fact, if it hadn’t been for the ever-simmering tension between her and Tristan, Jess might have ventured to think her life at that moment was pretty much close to perfect.