Starlight Over Bluebell Castle (Bluebell Castle, Book 3)

by Sarah Bennett

  ‘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 obscured 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.

  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.