Sunshine Over Bluebell Castle

by Sarah Bennett

  ‘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.’

  She held up her hands in surrender. ‘I’ll think about it, all right? I’m not making any promises though.’ His delighted chuckle followed her out of the room.

  *

  The next few days passed in a blur of activity, giving her little time to do as she’d promised her uncle and properly think about her feelings for Will. More quotes were coming in, and Iggy was steadily filling the various tasks to be done. When she wasn’t signing contracts and making phone calls, she was out and about. Will had become so absorbed in his water garden project, he was leaving her more or less to her own devices.

  Her normal responsibilities hadn’t disappeared either, and she’d spent the previous afternoon over at Tumbledown farm helping them with some emergency repairs to one of their feeder systems. The chute had clogged-not for the first time-and she’d been happy to lend a hand. A small-holding like the farms they leased out ran on a tight budget, so if a bit of elbow grease and time could solve a problem then everyone pitched in Between all of that, she’d had no free time to think about anything other than crossing off the next item on her to-do list.

  It was Friday morning before she finally eked out a couple of hours to work in the garden herself, spending the morning finishing the clipping and clearing around the fountain near the entrance to the maze. The contractors were making good progress, and had made it about a quarter of the way around the twisting mass of hedges.

  The promised heatwave from the weather forecast had also arrived, and with a high-pressure system sitting firm over the country, looked set to stay for the forthcoming days.

  Conscious of Mrs W’s dire warnings, Iggy had bound her hair in a knot at her nape and kept a floppy straw hat firmly in place all day. The long-sleeved cotton shirt she wore might have protected her skin from the worst of the sun’s rays, but it now clung unpleasantly to every inch of her upper body, the thin vest she’d worn beneath it equally saturated. Her feet in her work boots felt like two boiled hams, and all Iggy wanted to do was stand beneath a cold shower for the next hour. Unfortunately, she had a meeting with the local tree surgeon who was coming to survey the walking routes they’d planned through the woods, so that was going to have to wait. Tugging off her hat, she freed the sticky strands of her fringe which had glued themselves to her forehead and used the brim of the hat as a fan to try and cool her skin.

  The fanning didn’t do much to relieve the heat, so she plopped the hat back on, wincing a little at the clammy feel of the soaked inner band. Helping herself to one of the remaining bottles of water in
the cold box tucked into the shadows of a thick hedge, she tucked another couple under her arm and ventured into the first section of the maze towards the relentless buzz of a hedge trimmer. Making sure to keep well out of the way, Iggy stepped into Davy’s sightline and held up one of the bottles of water. His broad, tanned face broke into a grin beneath the Perspex face shield attached to his hard hat and the trimmer fell blessedly silent. ‘You must be a mind-reader!’ he said, stepping down from the sturdy trestle bench and placing the trimmer on top of it.

  ‘How are you getting on?’ she asked, waiting patiently for the contractor to strip off his protective gear before she handed him the bottle.

  ‘Not bad, not bad at all,’ he said between deep swallows of water. ‘Simon?’ He raised his voice, turning to call his son who was working deeper within the maze. ‘Drink break!’

  Sweaty and red-faced beneath his tan, a grinning Simon appeared from around the junction. Not bothering to remove his gear, he settled for tipping up his own face guard before tilting the bottle Iggy handed him and draining half the contents in a series of gulps. ‘I needed that, thanks, Iggy.’ A little shyer than his more outgoing father, there was still a hint of hesitancy in his use of her first name.

  Never really one for formalities, it made even less sense to her to stand on ceremony when these men would be working with her for several weeks. ‘You’re welcome. There’s still another couple of bottles in the box, so I’ll leave it for you and come and pick it up later.’

  Davy shook his head. ‘No need to bother with that, we’ll drop it off on the steps of castle when we’ve finished for the day.’

  Delighted at his consideration, Iggy smiled in thanks. ‘If you’re sure, that would be a great help.’

  ‘Consider it done. You’re finishing up, are you?’

  ‘If only. I’m meeting the tree man in a few minutes to begin a survey of the woods.’

  Finishing his water, Davy gave her a sympathetic smile. ‘You’re really going to town with all this work, aren’t you?’

  ‘It’s past time we got everything sorted. It’s just such a shame so much was left to run wild.’

  He nodded. ‘It is, at that, but don’t you worry, we’ll see you right between us.’

  ‘If all my other contractors are as reliable as you, Davy, it’ll be a breeze.’ She could tell her words had pleased him from the way he ducked his head a little, but it was no more than the truth. Now he and Simon were up and running, she was confident they could be left to their own devices.

  ‘We can’t wait to see the place back to its full glory. My wife’s already been asking when we can buy tickets to the grand opening.’

  ‘You’ll be getting a guest invitation, along with everyone else who helps us, but that is a good point. I’ll have to check with Arthur and find out what’s going on with the website.’

  ‘Well, you let us know and we’ll spread the word. It’s an honour for us that you picked our firm, and will be a real boost to the community to have a grand site such as this open to the public.’

  ‘I certainly hope that will be the case.’ Iggy took their empty bottles ready to stow them back in the cool box so they could go in the recycling later. ‘By the way, if you know any other local firms who might be interested in bidding on the works we’re doing, feel free to pass on their details. I desperately need some landscapers to help with all the planting.’ She ran a quick mental tally of the other jobs on her list. ‘And a firm of bricklayers, a stonemason and a contractor to renew all the gravel pathways.’

  ‘My brother-in-law is a general builder. He’s got all his health and safety certifications, same as us, and plenty of references. I won’t expect any favours for him, of course, but I’ll have a word with him tonight and if he’s interested, I’ll get him to send you an email with his details, if that’s all right?’

  Iggy nodded. The repairs to the brick beds and walls of the apothecary’s garden could easily be handled by a small firm, and it would be nice to support as many local businesses as possible. ‘Great, thanks, Davy.’ She checked her watch. ‘Right, I’ll be off. Sure, you’re okay here?’

  ‘Don’t worry about us. We’ll keep going until six, and then be back again at eight in the morning.’ He swatted at a fly that was buzzing around his head. ‘It’ll be a good few days yet before we’re finished with this blasted maze, assuming we don’t get lost in it, that is.’

  She laughed. ‘You’ll have to tie a piece of string to follow once you get further in.’

  ‘Might just do that.’

  *

  Her meeting with the tree surgeon lasted for about an hour, and although she was grateful for the shade, the humid heat felt trapped beneath the trees and the small of her back was soon soaked with a fresh layer of sweat. By the time she’d left him to continue his survey in peace, the need to cool off was pressing. On a whim, she headed further away from the castle and down towards the lake.

  It was a relief when she finally broke through the trees near the edge of the lake. A gentle breeze-barely enough to stir the leaves on the canopy behind them-sent a welcome puff of cooler air over her skin. Hands on hips, she stared out over the water. The mirror-smooth surface reflected the afternoon sun, and it was too tempting to resist.

  Sitting down on a fallen log, Iggy unlaced her boots and dragged off her thick socks, draping them over the wood beside her to dry off. Checking over her shoulder, she saw no sign of anyone around, so she turned her attention back to the lake once more and strode down to the edge.

  Bull rushes lined the banks, and she had to weave through their tall stems to reach the waterline. The first touch of cool water against her toes was so heavenly she sighed in contentment. Knowing the edge of the lake sloped down gently for the first couple of feet, she waded in until she could stand up to her ankles.

  As though they’d been waiting for her mind to be still for a moment, memories of Will kissing her came flooding back. The weight of a phantom grip settled about her hips, and Iggy rested her hands there as though she expected to feel the warm strength of Will’s fingers beneath her own. Though he’d only touched her that once, it was like the memory of his hands might be burned into her psyche forever. What am I going to do about him? Her uncle was right; ignoring it wasn’t going to make the problem go away. Stripping off her shirt, Iggy tossed it towards the bank then sank down on her haunches in the blessedly cool water to think.

  Chapter 13

  Will stretched his aching back with a sigh, his eyes scanning over the figures on his laptop screen one last time. The final price he’d been waiting for had come in half an hour earlier and he’d slotted it into the pricing spreadsheet before giving everything a final read-through. Satisfied he had included enough detail, he saved the file, attached it to an email and sent it to both Arthur and Igraine. Snapping down the lid of his laptop with a contented smile, he decided to stretch his legs after a long day hunched at the desk in his bedroom.

  He told himself he wasn’t looking for Igraine, right up until the moment his steps veered from the path that would lead him down to the stand of poplars and the open ground beyond where he’d pinned all his hopes, and he turned instead into the formal gardens. Following the sounds of a noisy duet being played on a couple of hedge trimmers, he entered the maze, frustrated to find only the father-and-son contractors Igraine had hired. They pointed him towards the woods, and it was only then he recalled she had an appointment with the tree surgeons.

  Abandoning any pretence he was just out for a stroll, Will retraced his steps back towards the castle and struck out a new path down towards the woods. He hadn’t had much time to explore this part of the grounds as it wasn’t within his remit, so he could kill two birds with one stone. A stillness settled over the air as he walked beneath the dappled canopy of the trees and into a wonderland of sights, sounds and scents. The path beneath his feet was well compacted in the centre, the edges ill-defined where moss and creepy undergrowth fought a never-ending battle to reclaim the
spaces where people had walked for years-centuries most likely from the deep groove which had been worn into the land.

  The sound of birds chirping and calling filled the air, and he caught the odd rustle in the grass, a flash of grey brown as he disturbed a rabbit and sent it streaking away into the trees. Oak, ash and beech trees towered overhead, the lower spaces claimed by elder, rowan and patches of thick brambles just beginning to show a hint of the berries which would laden the bushes later in the season. Heat sat thick and heavy, the leaves trapping in the moist air until he felt the back of his shirt begin to dampen and stick to his skin, and he was grateful to be wearing a loose pair of cargo shorts, rather than the heavier jeans he favoured when working outside.

  Other than the sounds of nature surrounding him, the woods were quiet. No voices carried through the still air, no sounds of feet other than his own swishing through the grass and undergrowth. Deciding it was pointless to keep searching for Igraine and the tree surgeons, he let his feet carry him where they would until he found the remains of an overgrown path leading off the main walkway. Curious, he tramped through the grass until he came across a domed structure in the landscape-too regular and out of keeping with the landscape around it to be anything other than manmade.

  The path led to a locked iron gate. Pressing close to the metal bars, Will studied the short slope leading down to a thick wooden door. If it hadn’t been for the arch of bricks surrounding the door, he might have thought he’d discovered a hobbit hole for that’s what it reminded him of with its thick layer of grass-topped soil covering the structure. Intrigued, he walked around the mound. About halfway round he spotted a glimmer of blue through the surrounding trees and things clicked into place. He must be close to the lake which bordered one edge of the woods. He glanced back over his shoulder, realising the structure must be an old ice house. Before modern refrigeration, it had been common for grand estates such as the castle to build ice houses beside their lakes. Ice could be cut from the lake in winter and stored deep underground. The thick layers of soil and grass piled overhead provided insulation so the temperature could be maintained regardless of the time of year.