She slid the diamond-tipped pin into the cravat, then fumbled behind the knot to screw on the little end cap which would keep it secure. Stepping back, she gave her work a critical glance, then nodded. ‘You’ll do. Although why you didn’t ask Maxwell to do it, I don’t know.’
Rising from the chair, Lancelot moved through the kitchen to the open door of his little bathroom to study himself in the mirror. He made a couple of deft adjustments to the cravat, his hands moving in an assured way which raised her suspicions. ‘You didn’t need my help to do this at all, did you?’
Having smoothed the ends of the cravat once last time, her uncle turned to face her with an unrepentant grin. ‘Not really, but I wanted an excuse to check up on you.’
‘Check up on me?’ Iggy kept her voice light. ‘There was no need.’
Lancelot shook his head at her. ‘You can’t kid a kidder, darling girl. I know how hard these past few weeks have been for you, and I wanted to see how you were holding up.’
‘I’m fine.’ The lack of conviction in her voice was all too clear. ‘I’m going to be fine,’ she amended.
Her uncle closed in on her, taking her hand in the comforting warmth of his own. ‘I know you haven’t been down to the water gardens since Will left. If you find you’re having a hard time at any point during the reception, you come and find me, okay?’
She nodded, not quite able to speak. Arthur had mooted the suggestion they move the wedding reception to the back lawns, but she’d refused point blank. He knew he was doing it to try and spare her feelings, but she would not let the spectre of Will spoil anything about today. Tristan had taken over project managing when Will had walked out on them, although the groundworks supervisor had proven infinitely capable and had only need someone to nod through his decisions.
‘Have you heard from him at all?’ Lancelot’s question was full of tender concern and it would be so easy to fall into his arms and sob out the grief and loss threatening to split her heart in two.
Stuff that. She hadn’t shed a single tear since the moment she’d discovered Will had left-at first, she’d simply been too shocked to properly register it, but then it had become a matter of pride. He didn’t deserve her tears, any more than he’d deserved her love. His apparent belief that one of the family had been behind the betrayal had only served to prove she hadn’t really known him at all; no more than he’d known her. ‘This was always on the cards, Lancelot. It might have happened sooner than either of us expected, but there was no future for us. We were a summer fling that got a bit ahead of itself. It was convenient at the time, nothing more.’
Her uncle frowned. ‘I don’t know who put those words in your head, my girl, but none of that sounds like you, nor is it an accurate description of the closeness I witnessed between the two of you.’
She looked away. ‘I don’t normally agree with her, but on this occasion, Mother was right.’
Lancelot barked an ugly laugh. ‘I might have recognised her poison behind those words. Haven’t you learned by now not to believe a word that comes out of the Hellbeast’s mouth?’
Turning away from him, Iggy reached for her champagne and took a sip. ‘She’s not always wrong.’ She indicated to her dress. ‘She picked this out for me.’
‘Well, that’s the only decent thing she’s done for you in all her years.’
Perhaps it was the champagne giving her courage, but Iggy couldn’t hide her curiosity any longer. ‘I know she did us wrong, but why do you hate her so much?’
If she’d stuck a pin in him, she didn’t think he could’ve deflated more quickly. Sinking into the chair behind him, Lancelot scrubbed a hand over his face. ‘Because she broke my heart.’
Stunned, Iggy sank into the other chair. ‘What on earth do you mean?’
Tipping his head back, Lancelot stared up at the ceiling as though seeking divine guidance. ‘I always swore I wouldn’t talk about it, but perhaps we shouldn’t have kept it hidden all these years.’ Tilting his head forward once more, he nodded towards the bottle on the table. ‘Fill us up, first, and then I’ll tell you.’
Iggy did as she was told, then settled back with her mug cradled to her chest as she watched Lancelot wrestle with himself. ‘When I was nineteen, I met the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen in my life. Incandescent, she was able to light up a room with not only her looks but her sweetness and charm. She was the life and soul of every party and I fell in love with her before we’d even exchanged a single word.
‘Helena led me a merry dance, and I enjoyed every moment of the chase. When I finally got her to agree to go out with me, I was a goner for her. I told her everything about me, all my hopes and dreams for the future, how I was struggling to find my fit in the world as the spare to the heir.’
He sighed. ‘I showed her all the parts of me, and I believed she was doing the same. We were inseparable for weeks, and then she had to leave town and go back to her parents as she’d been away from home longer than intended and they were starting to put pressure on her. She said she wanted to take me, but that they were very traditional and would be very upset to find out we’d been all but living together out of wedlock. When she asked me to give her a little bit of time to ease them into the idea of our relationship, I agreed to give her all the time she needed.’
Their eyes met, and the pain in his gaze shattered her heart. ‘Oh, God. We had no idea you even knew her before she met Dad.’
His lips twisted into a wry smile. ‘Imagine how excited I was when your dad telephoned to tell me he’d met the most marvellous girl at a house party, and he was madly in love with her. It felt like serendipity, the two of us finding our perfect matches at the same time. When he told me he’d proposed, I thought it seemed a bit hasty, but then again, I’d fallen in love at first sight so I knew such things were possible.’
‘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 guarding 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, o
thers 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.
Sunshine Over Bluebell Castle Page 23
