Sunshine Over Bluebell Castle

by Sarah Bennett

  He sought her eyes. ‘And what about you? You didn’t seem so sure this morning.’

  ‘I’m not good with anything that hints at infidelity.’ She ducked her head into his shoulder. ‘I got engaged briefly when I was at university. I thought Marcus was everything I wanted-or at least everything I was supposed to want. We had similar backgrounds and upbringings and he was due to inherit an estate similar to ours. Our families were acquainted, I think there was even a marriage connection several generations back.’

  ‘Sounds like the perfect match.’ Will couldn’t help the little pang of jealousy over this unknown and clearly long-distant ex of hers. Though none of the family had ever made an issue of it, there was no escaping his life experience and Igraine’s were classes apart.

  She lifted her head to look up at him once more. ‘He was unfaithful to me. Not just a one-off fling, either, but to an almost pathological degree. He’d decided to marry me because of who my family was, of what I could bring to him in terms of good breeding and station, rather than because he loved me.’

  Anger flared in him at the old pain he sensed in her words. Whoever this Marcus was, he’d better never get within arm’s length of Will. ‘Bastard.’

  ‘Yes, he was.’ Igraine said in a fierce voice. ‘But he did me a favour.’

  Arms around her, Will backed towards the bed until he fell back onto the mattress, pulling her down on top of him. ‘Is that so?’ He couldn’t help the smug smile he could feel tugging at his lips.

  ‘Yes.’ Leaning down she kissed him. ‘If he’d been a better man, I’d never have had the opportunity to meet you.’ She kissed him again. ‘To get to know you.’ Her fingers touched the scar on his cheek. ‘To fall in love with you.’

  Heat curled inside him, burning away the last of the cold fear which had been twisting his guts into knots all day. Lifting her into his arms, Will turned and carried her towards his bed. Lying beside her, he twined one of her gorgeous mahogany curls around his finger as he stared into her eyes. ‘I never expected any of this.’

  ‘Me either.’ Her breath hitched. ‘Promise me this is real, Will, that I’m not making a fool of myself.’

  ‘Why would you even think that? You’re the most beautiful, the most real woman I’ve ever met, Igraine, and I’m crazy about you.’

  Catching her lip between her teeth, she glanced away before meeting his eyes once more. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t let her get inside my head.’

  ‘Who? Your mother?’

  Igraine nodded. ‘She thinks you’re only with me because it’s convenient.’

  Those bloody stupid newspaper articles again. ‘Because of what she’s read about me, I suppose?’

  Her nose wrinkled up. ‘Not just that. She doesn’t see why you’d want a scruffy woman with dirt under her nails and a fat bottom when you’ve got your pick of pretty, glamorous girls like Melody back in London.’

  Christ. Igraine had warned him about Helena, but he’d had no idea she was so utterly poisonous as to openly criticise her own daughter like that. Reaching for her hand he placed a kiss on the tips of each of her fingers. ‘Your hands are perfect because of the way you use them to tend to the land.’ Letting it drop, he tangled his fingers into her curls and drew a handful to his nose to inhale the clean, zesty fragrance of her shampoo. ‘I love your hair because it’s wild and untamed, just like you.’

  ‘Will.’ There was a hint of embarrassed laughter in her voice, but the blush on her cheeks told him he’d said what she needed to hear. Good. He would tell her each and every day how beautiful she was, how sexy he found her, and how damn grateful he was to have her in his life.

  Her fingers found his scar, tracing the puckered edges of it with that infinite tenderness that would have driven him to his knees had they not already been horizontal. Leaning down, he claimed her mouth in a searing kiss, wanting to drive away any lingering doubts she might have about his feelings towards her. When he finally broke for breath, her lashes had drooped to shade her hazel eyes, a look of languid need shining in them.

  Flipping her onto her side, he leaned down over her and sank his teeth into the denim-clad roundness of her bottom in a playful bite. ‘Next time I see your mother, I’m going to tell her this is my very, very favourite part of you.’

  Shrieking and laughing, she wriggled away. ‘You wouldn’t dare!’

  Will pounced, pinning her hands over her head and her hips down with his own. ‘Oh, you know I would.’

  *

  When they walked into the family room before dinner, Will made a show of keeping his hand on her hip, his fingers splaying out to cover as much of her lovely curves as he could reach. Igraine was beautiful, and he never wanted her to doubt his attraction to her, though to be fair he’d just spent a very happy hour proving it to her. Helena was sitting on the nearest sofa so he made a point of steering Igraine straight past towards the opposite one and the pair of them sat down next to Tristan who was frowning over his tablet. When he glanced up to smile at them Will offered him his hand. ‘Thanks again for helping out today.’

  Tristan shrugged it off. ‘Don’t mention it, now if you could only think of a way to help me with these dismal ticket sales, we could call it quits.’

  ‘It’s still early days, though, isn’t it? How long has the website been up and running?’

  ‘Only a couple of weeks, but I placed a load of adverts in the local press as well as via our social media pages, so I was hoping to have more to show for them than we have. The Facebook page has had lots of likes, but nobody seems to be clicking through to the website to purchase a ticket.’ He scowled at his screen. ‘Not that I can make heads or tails of their data metrics.’

  Will wasn’t sure what to say. They could put as much blood, sweat and tears into renovating the castle and its grounds, but it would all be for nothing if the public didn’t show up in numbers. ‘There’s a few weeks yet. Perhaps it’s a bit too soon for people to be making up their minds. The bank holiday is notorious for bad weather so perhaps they’re hedging their bets and you’ll get more interest closer to the time.’

  Tossing the tablet onto the carpet by his feet, Tristan sank back into the corner of the sofa with a sigh. ‘Or perhaps we’re not interesting or unique enough to capture their attention. There are plenty of stately homes and amusement parks clamouring for their money, why risk it on a new place they know virtually nothing about. We need a hook, something to draw them to us.’ His hazel eyes settled on Will. ‘Something like you, perhaps.’

  ‘You must be bloody joking!’ Though Will didn’t find it funny at all.

  ‘Nope, I’m deadly serious. Your profile is already sky-high so if we want to take advantage of the draw of your name, now’s the perfect time. Besides, you can deflect the speculation in the press about you and Phillipa Cornwall by making it clear you’ve been up here for the past couple of months.’

  Will felt sick. He thought Tristan and he were friends, that from the sympathetic response he’d got from both him and Arthur this morning that he understood how much the lies and speculation in the papers upset him. ‘Talk some sense into your brother,’ he said to Igraine, pushing to his feet.

  She stared up at him in confusion. ‘What’s the matter?’ She rounded on Tristan. ‘What did you say?’

  Tristan shrugged. ‘I just suggested we could release a story about Will’s work here on the water garden as a way to boost sales.’

  ‘And I told you when I first got here that I wasn’t interested in any more publicity.’ Will snapped.

  ‘Hey, now. You said you wanted any publicity to focus on what you’ve been doing here, and that’s exactly what I’m talking about. It distracts from the negative stuff going around and will also hopefully get people talking about the castle and what we’re trying to achieve here.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah. You’re doing it from the goodness of your heart, and all you want to do is help me.’ Will couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his tone. ‘I’m sick to the back teeth of be
ing used.’ He stormed from the room, not missing the speculative glance Helena gave him on the way out.

  Will kept walking, out the front door and across the crunching gravel of the driveway until he hit the grass and quickened his pace. Anger and embarrassment gave momentum to his feet until he was jogging past the high hedges of the formal gardens. By the time he reached the row of poplars screening the work site for the water gardens, he’d run off the worst of his mood.

  Sinking down on the edge of the bank, Will let his legs dangle over the edge. Shit! He shouldn’t have lost his temper like that. Tristan was only trying to do what was right for the family finances, and they would have to announce his involvement in the project at some point, or what the hell was the point in him doing it? But the idea of having his name bandied about in the papers again, even if it was for a good cause? Will shuddered at the thought of it.

  His eyes surveyed the land before him. The terracing works were almost complete, and the plumbers had installed the storage tank and laid the network of pipes which would feed the system. The concrete troughs which would make up the cascading steps of the water garden had been poured and were drying in their wooden moulds. Right now, it looked an unholy mess, but he could see beyond that to what would be one of his best achievements in just a few more weeks.

  ‘Hi.’

  At the sound of Igraine’s soft greeting, he turned to see her settling down beside him. ‘Hi.’

  Curling her knees up, she rested her chin upon them, eyes fixed out upon the land beyond them. ‘Tristan’s sorry for being so crass.’

  ‘I shouldn’t have lost my temper.’ He hooked a hand around her ankle, needing the anchor of her touch. ‘It’s been a really shit day.’

  She leant into his side, head resting on his shoulder. ‘Tell me about it.’

  ‘It’s getting better all the time now you’re here.’ He pressed a kiss to her temple. ‘I’ll talk to Tristan about doing a statement, let’s just let things die down a bit first.’

  ‘Of course. He understands. We all do, don’t worry about it.’

  If only it was that simple.

  * * *

  Although he and Tristan had apologised to each other, things were still a bit awkward between them for a few more days. As they moved into July, the hot weather continued and work around the gardens was starting to take shape. The maze was cut and ready and the Davises were finishing off the last of the big hedges. The woods had been surveyed, the walks cleared and marked out ready for the first explorers to tramp their way beneath the leafy boughs.

  In an effort to boost interest in their website, Tristan had started blogging about the ongoing works around the grounds, and the mission of the three siblings to save their ancestral home. Interest was starting to build, and Arthur had done a couple of interviews with the local press looking every inch the baronet as he’d posed on the steps of the castle, flanked by Nimrod and Bella, the two greyhounds. Will kept his head down and his mind focused on getting the water gardens finished.

  Tristan had agreed to wait until the fountains were farther along enough so they could include some images of them as part of any press release they put together, ‘wanting to make a splash’ as the other man had joked. Will had pushed his team hard and they were ahead of schedule so he reckoned it would be a day or two more at most before they’d be ready to test the fountains. Pleased with the progress he was making, Will decided to take a break and check on how Igraine was getting on with the planting in the apothecary’s garden.

  As he approached the open door to the garden, the sounds of laughter and women’s voices greeted him. Stepping inside, he grinned at the sight of a row of bottoms lined up along the length of one long flower bed. ‘Looking good, ladies!’

  Igraine peered over her shoulder at him, her laughing eyes shaded by the wide brim of a floppy straw hat. ‘Come to lend us a hand, have you?’

  He waved a hand towards the others around her. To her left, Lucie and Constance were working together to plant several clumps of lavender, to her right, Mrs W and Betsy were planting what looked like verbena. Heavenly scents came at him from all sides, the majority of the red brick beds already bursting with plants and shrubs. ‘It looks like you’ve recruited everyone else already.’

  Tugging off her gloves, Igraine rose from the little rubber pad she’d been knelt on to protect her knees from the paving slabs and came over to join him. ‘We’re almost there.’ Pulling off her hat, she wiped her brow with her forearm then glanced up at the sky. ‘This heat is a killer. We’re going to have to water in here every day to make sure everything survives.’

  There was one noticeable absence from the gathering. ‘Where’s your mother?’

  Igraine rolled her eyes. ‘A friend of hers in London invited her to stay, apparently. The first we knew about it was when a taxi rolled up to take her to the station, but she said it had been arranged for ages.’ She shrugged. ‘Maybe she told me, and I forgot. I do try hard to forget most of what she says.’

  ‘How long will she be away for?’

  Apparently catching the hopeful note in his question, Igraine laughed. ‘A couple of weeks.’

  Not long enough, but better than he could’ve hoped for. Leaning down, he whispered in her ear. ‘Long enough for Constance to persuade your uncle to move back in for a bit?’ Lancelot was still stubbornly refusing to move out of the stables, sticking to his word about not being under the same roof as Helena.

  ‘I doubt it. The two of them seem quite cosy in there. I hear he’s cleared out one of the other rooms and been appropriating bits and pieces of furniture to create a cosy little lounge. Now Arthur’s got the internet booster sorted out, Lancelot told me he and Constance are quite happy to Netflix and chill out there together.’

  Will grimaced at the euphemism. ‘Do you think he knew what he was saying when he told you that?’

  She grinned. ‘Oh, I’m very sure he did. I’ll be surprised if he moves back to the castle even after Mother eventually leaves for good. He was making noises about getting the stables properly converted into a self-contained apartment, although he might have his work cut out convincing Constance to put up with the smell of horses.’

  Will turned to watch the older woman working side by side with her daughter. ‘Do you think she’ll stay then?’

  ‘I think so. I know Lucie wants her close, and Arthur wants whatever Lucie wants. Things seem pretty solid between her and Lancelot, so I really hope they give it a go.’ She glanced up at him. ‘Did you come here for any particular reason, or just to catch up?’

  Casting a quick glance towards the flower bed, he noted the others were all busy working away with their backs turned to them. ‘I came here to give you this,’ he said, swinging Igraine into his arms and planting a kiss on the soft, yielding warmth of her mouth.

  A slow handclap came from behind them, joined quickly by others until it became a full round of applause complete with a couple of cheers and a very piercing wolf-whistle. Releasing Igraine with a grin, Will swept a bow towards the other women who’d all turned to watch them.

  Red-faced and more than a little flustered, Igraine bent to scoop up her hat which had fallen from her head when he’d swung her around. ‘Right. Well, we can continue this discussion later.’

  ‘I’ll hold you to that,’ Will said with a grin before blowing a kiss at their audience. ‘See you later, lovely ladies!’

  *

  His chance to pick up their ‘discussion’ came a lot later than Will hoped. Having returned to the water garden’s site, he’d found a scene of absolute chaos. One of the small dump trucks they’d been using to shift the last of the excess soil away had driven over the pipe which had been filling the storage tank, sending water shooting into the air, and soaking everything in sight. The protective plastic shielding over the pipe had given way under the weight of the loaded truck, from the looks of things so work had had to stop to not only carry out a repair to the water pipe, but to hold a full investigation and s
afety inspection of all the equipment they’d hired from the same supplier to ensure nothing else was at risk of failing.

  It was getting on for ten-thirty by the time a tired and filthy Will finally trudged up the front steps to the castle. He’d sent a message earlier to say he wouldn’t be back for dinner, and was delighted to find a note waiting for him propped up in the centre of the round table next to a covered tray holding a cold supper for him. Collecting the tray, he decided to head straight up to his room as he would need a shower before he could do anything else.

  The door to his bedroom stood slightly ajar, and when he edged around it, he was greeted by the arresting sight of Igraine dressed in a silky looking vest and matching shorts fast asleep across his bed. The TV was still on, tuned to a news channel. Putting his tray carefully down on a side table, he used the remote to turn the sound down, but left it on.

  Igraine didn’t stir in the time it took him to shower and pull on a clean set of boxers and a T-shirt, nor did she do much more than mumble and turn over when he settled himself against the headboard beside her with the tray upon his lap. With only half his attention on the TV Will let the headlines scroll past as he tucked into the selection of cheese, cold meats, pickles and several thick slices of Betsy’s wonderful homemade bread and butter. He was just finishing off his supper when he accidentally dropped his fork, the clatter of it loud in the quiet room.

  Igraine lifted her head. ‘What? Oh, it’s you,’ she said with a sleepy smile. ‘What time is it?’

  ‘Almost eleven, I didn’t mean to wake you.’ Reaching out, he smoothed her messy curls from her forehead ‘Go back to sleep, sweetheart.’

  She pulled a face. ‘I’m thirsty.’

  He couldn’t help but laugh at the way she’d scrunched up her nose, like a sleepy child not quite sure where they were. ‘Here, sit up then.’ He handed her the glass of water he’d filled from the sink in his bathroom.

  She drained over half of it, then wriggled off the bed to go and refill it before he could stop her. Looking much more alert when she returned, she handed him back the glass before clambering onto the bed to sit cross-legged beside him. ‘Are you eating that?’ She gestured towards the chunk of sharp cheddar cheese on his plate.