The Island Legacy

by Ruth Saberton

  “Sorry,” Lucy whispered to Ness. “He’s a bit upset.”

  Ness shrugged. She wasn’t worried. Let Jamie throw his weight around for now if it made him feel better.

  Once everyone was seated at the table, David Brown opened his briefcase and drew out a sheaf of thick parchment. He was about to speak, but was interrupted.

  “Before we start, just open the door and make sure that little rat, Fern, isn’t skulking outside,” Jamie ordered his sister. “You know what a little snooper she is.”

  Two red spots burned on Lucy’s cheeks. “Jamie, that’s not very kind. Fern’s busy in the tea shop – and, anyway, she doesn’t snoop.”

  “For God’s sake, do I have to do everything myself?” her brother exploded, standing up so fast that his chair toppled over as he strode across the room and wrenched the door open. Presumably the passageway outside had been empty; Jamie slammed the door shut again and stormed back to his seat. “Makes a bloody change, that’s all I can say. She probably ran off.”

  “Fern lives here,” Lucy whispered to Ness. “It’ll all make sense soon, I promise.”

  Ness doubted that anything about this strange family was going to make sense any time soon. Everything still felt unreal. Her fingers stole to her lips. Why was it that the memory of Max Reynard’s kiss felt more solid than this ancient castle, and a thousand times more real than the legalese David was reading aloud?

  “I, Armand Penwellyn, eldest son of Edmund Penwellyn and resident of Pirran Castle in Cornwall, do hereby revoke all my former wills, codicils and testamentary dispositions made by me. I declare this to be my last will and testament.”

  There was a sniff from Lucy, at which Jamie rolled his eyes.

  “Do you think we could cut all this guff and just get to the bit that we’re all actually interested in?” he said.

  “I’m afraid not. It’s an important legal document, and I’m sure the others would like to hear it,” David replied stiffly.

  Jamie gave a theatrical sigh. “Oh very well; let’s just get it over with then, so that it can be contested. The old man was clearly losing his marbles leaving this place to a Yank.”

  Ness bit back the retort that flew to her lips because she could see Jamie was upset.

  David cleared his throat. “I maintain good health and possess a sound mind_. This will is made by me of my own independent will and free volition.”

  Jamie snorted. “I hardly think so. This is where it all stops, and right now. The old boy had lost it. Who says he was in sound mind? You, Lucy?”

  Lucy shrank into herself. “Not just me.”

  “I was joking!” Jamie screeched. He rounded on Lucy, a fat worm of a vein pulsing in his neck. “You knew about this?”

  Poor Lucy looked close to tears.

  “You knew what the old man was planning? You knew all along that the old bastard was intending to cut me out?” His voice dripped menace.

  Lucy shrank further into her seat. “He asked me to help him so I called David. I couldn’t say no, Jamie. He was our uncle.”

  “And I’m your bloody brother! What about me? Didn’t you stop to think how I might feel while you were plotting with him?”

  “Lucy was only doing as your uncle requested,” David interjected. “As was Annie Luckett—”

  “That old dyke? What the hell has this got to do with her?” Jamie’s pale eyes bulged.

  “Miss Luckett witnessed the will and helped to trace Nessa Penwellyn, all in accordance with your uncle’s wishes,” the solicitor said calmly. “Dr Russex, who witnessed the will as well, will be happy to confirm that Mr Penwellyn was in sound mind. It says so in the will too, if you’ll allow me to continue?” He shuffled the papers. “Now, may I?”

  Jamie spread his hands helplessly, too angry to speak. Although she’d never met her uncle, Ness wanted to high-five Armand for checkmating his nephew so neatly. Within seconds of meeting Jamie Penwellyn, she’d understood exactly why Armand had decided to bypass him and Lucy. Jamie was a bully. It was as simple as that. To leave Lucy out seemed unfair at best and malicious at worst until you witnessed first hand her brother’s domineering manner. Although Lucy had clearly loved Armand and Pirran Island was her home, Jamie would have bullied it away from her in no time.

  David read on, confirming that Armand was childless and that Ness was to inherit his castle and most of its contents, as well as the island, the marine rights and whatever money was left after any debts and expenses had been taken care of.

  “I must warn you,” David said, pausing from his reading and regarding Ness solemnly over the top of his glasses, “that this won’t be a large amount. This estate takes an enormous amount of money to run. The castle alone costs over five thousand a month to maintain, and the amount remaining will soon run out.”

  She gulped. “I understand.”

  Jamie turned to Ness, his chilly eyes scanning her and clearly finding what he saw lacking. “Nobody here would blame you if you chose to walk away from it. It’s not as though you’ve been raised to handle this kind of thing. You’re an American anyway so all this is very alien to you. I’m sure we could come to some understanding that would be to your advantage. You’ll never have to wait tables again if that’s what you’re worried about?”

  The nerve of him! Trying to buy her off during the will reading. Unbe-bloody-lievable.

  “That’s a kind offer, but I’ll take my time and work something out, thanks all the same,” she said. “And by the way don’t be fooled by my accent. I’m not an American. I’m as English as you are.”

  “You may not be an American but you’re certainly an idiot. The estate will be in receivership by Christmas,” Jamie snapped.

  “I’m sure Miss Penwellyn has lots of thoughts about this, but now is not the time or the place for such a discussion.” David gave Jamie a stern look. “If I may, I’d like to move on to the bequests allotted to yourself and Lucy.”

  “Uncle Armand left me something?” Lucy looked up and her eyes were bright. “Really?”

  David nodded and returned to his will reading. “To my nephew, James Penwellyn, I leave whichever one of the following he chooses: either my entire share portfolio, or alternatively the rights to my compositions and the royalties pertaining to these. To my niece, Lucy Penwellyn, I leave whichever of these two possibilities her brother does not choose.”

  “And you said he was of sound mind?” Jamie scoffed.

  “Do you have a preference?” the solicitor asked.

  “Isn’t it obvious? The shares, of course. They’ll bring in a good income.” He shot Ness a triumphant smile. “You could have done with those to keep this bloody place afloat.”

  “So I can have the music?” Lucy looked thrilled. “It’s mine? That’s amazing!”

  “You’re mad, sis,” said Jamie. “Everyone knows the music’s bloody worthless now the world’s forgotten the silly old fart. You’d be best lighting a fire with it.”

  “That’s not true! Uncle Armand was a genius!” Lucy cried.

  “A genius who hasn’t written a note for decades!” sneered her brother. “Do you think anyone outside of here even remembers who he was?”

  David held up his hand in warning. “I will note and detail your choices but there’s more. Mr Penwellyn also leaves personal effects – and again the decision is yours, Jamie. The Steinway piano in the music room or the small upright that’s in Armand’s bedroom; which you keep is up to you.”

  Jamie laughed. “And you’re telling me that the old man wasn’t gaga? The grand, of course. What on earth would I want that shabby old thing he kept in his bedroom for? It’s only fit for firewood.”

  “He so loved that piano. I used to play it to him towards the end,” Lucy said softly. A tear rolled down her cheek and splashed onto the table.

  “Well, it’s all yours now, sis.” Jamie leaned back in his seat and grinned. “Not such a bad day’s work for me as I’d feared. Ness gets the money pit and I get the money. Maybe we can do a
deal?”

  It was on the tip of Ness’s tongue to say that she’d rather eat vomit than do a deal with him, but somehow she managed to keep quiet. These bequests didn’t make any sense to Ness. Poor Lucy, the only person here genuinely grieving for their uncle, had been totally overlooked. All she had were the rights to some unfashionable music and a tatty piano. It seemed dreadfully unfair and very, very unkind.

  “Before we finish, there are a few minor details to attend to,” David said. “Ness, Mr Penwellyn has requested, although it can’t be legally enforced if you aren’t in agreement, that Merryn Hellier, Fred Tamblyn and Fern Morris be allowed to reside on the island for as long as it remains in your possession.”

  Fern. That was the name that Jamie had spat out earlier, Ness recalled. Suddenly possessed with the childish urge to annoy him as much as possible, she nodded. “Absolutely. I’ll be delighted.”

  “And also that for as long as the island remains in your possession, Miss Lucy Penwellyn be allowed to reside here and run the tea room.”

  Ness smiled at Lucy. “I’m a hopeless cook. I even burn water. Please stay.”

  “What about me?” interrupted Jamie. “Do I have a right to stay?”

  “There’s nothing mentioned here,” David said, looking up and raising his eyebrows. “I can only assume he correctly guessed what items from his estate you’d choose and felt you’d be sufficiently taken care of.”

  “And that’s it? He’s thrown me out of my home?” Jamie was white with rage.

  “Uncle Armand hardly threw you out of your home, Jamie: you live in London,” his sister said gently.

  But Jamie wasn’t listening. Instead he’d leapt to his feet and, jabbing a finger across the table at Ness, was screeching about birthright and heritage and usurpers and hundreds of other things that she couldn’t really hear because his furious words were so incoherent. Biscuit, cowering under the table, whined.

  “This isn’t over,” Jamie promised, still jabbing that finger and glaring at Ness. “Believe me. It isn’t. This is only just beginning. I’ll contest this pathetic excuse for a will and I’ll have you out on your ear, you bitch. So watch your back. This isn’t over. Far from it!”

  He stormed from the library, slamming the door so hard behind him that the table shook. Looking down at her hands, Ness realised she was shaking too. To be the target of such venom was very disconcerting.

  Lucy exhaled slowly. “I think that went pretty well. At least Jamie didn’t lose it.”

  Ness stared at her. “You’re kidding me? That wasn’t him losing it?”

  “Lord no,” said Lucy, pulling a face. “That wasn’t even close. Believe me, when Jamie’s really angry you don’t want to be around. He’ll be furious right now but that’s nothing to how he’ll be later. It’s just as well he’s not staying.”

  Why was a scene from Macbeth running through her mind all of a sudden? Ness wondered. Blood-dripping daggers and castles and dark deeds of greed and ambition? She felt a twinge of nerves. Life had been simple in the Caribbean. Would Mel have encouraged her to come here if she’d known that her best friend was walking straight into a drama of Shakespearean proportions?

  Forget Mel, Ness thought grimly. Would I have come?

  Probably not, but it was too late now. She was here and there was nothing else for it: she had better find out where the portcullis was, buy a few crocodiles for the moat and order several vats of boiling oil, because she was at war with Jamie Penwellyn. He’d drawn the battle lines and made it clear how things were going to be from now on.

  To her surprise, Ness realised that she was up for a fight. She might be new here but there was no way he was getting his hands on Pirran Castle. Not if she could help it. Armand had chosen her for a reason and, whatever that reason was, Ness wasn’t going to let him down.

  The battle to save this place was on.

  Chapter 10

  No matter how many times she gave a tour, Lucy never grew tired of showing the island and the castle to visitors. Sometimes seeing the place through their wide eyes was just what she needed to fall in love with it all over again. What did steep steps, narrow passageways or awkward tides matter when you had an ever-changing panorama of waves and diving seabirds? Recently the strain of nursing and then losing her uncle had clouded Lucy’s vision, as had her fears about losing her home. She’d been trudging from one day to another with her head down and all the steadfast determination of a plough horse. Now, as she showed Ness around, Lucy felt as though she was taking a deep breath, filling her lungs with fresh salty air and starting anew.

  It was beautiful here. Really beautiful. And how lucky was she to have been able to spend even a couple of years in such a place? I mustn’t complain, whatever happens, Lucy told herself firmly as she led Ness up the sharply rising path to the island’s highest point. How many people could say they had been blessed to live somewhere like this? Whatever happened next, whatever Ness decided to do with her unexpected legacy, Lucy could never regret the time she had passed on Pirran Island.

  “This is steep!” Ness called, sounding short of breath. “St Antonia’s totally flat! I’m out of practice with hills!”

  “Nearly there now,” Lucy promised. Her boots scrambled up the last incline, scree and dry earth falling behind her as she dug in to propel herself to the summit. Goodness, she ought to come up here more often; the view truly was amazing. She’d forgotten just how much more of a vantage point you got from here. The town looked like a model village and the houses along the clifftop were strung out like beads on a necklace. There was a lot of activity at the furthest one – Max Reynard’s, of course. No doubt he was sitting in his very expensive sitting room and staring out at the castle, lurking like a spider in his luxurious web and waiting to move in for the kill.

  Lucy frowned. From what Annie had said earlier, Ness and Max were already as thick as thieves. She might be making all the right sounds and appearing to be blown away by the island, but who knew what was really going on inside that pretty red head? For all Lucy knew, her long-lost cousin could already be working out what to spend her new-found millions on. Maybe a ranch? Or a Condo? Didn’t Americans like those? But then again, Ness wasn’t an American at all. Oh! It was all so confusing.

  “Oh my God, that was some climb.” Ness was bending down with her hands on her knees and gulping in air. The breeze whipped long curls of red hair across her face and the exertion had brought out the roses in her cheeks. With those wide-spaced green eyes and her delicate heart-shaped face she really was quite stunning – no wonder Max Reynard was interested. The looks in the Penwellyn family had clearly flowed across to Addy’s side of the gene pool, Lucy thought ruefully, although she also saw in Ness a marked resemblance to the portrait of Beth that hung in the hall. It was strange to see a face so similar to the one Lucy had passed every day for the past few years, and to witness it coming to life right in front of her rather than captured in oils. Not for the first time, Lucy found herself wondering exactly what had happened between the Penwellyn brothers and whether Beth Penwellyn had played a greater part in their falling out than anyone professed to know.

  “What?” said Ness, plucking Lucy out of her reverie. “You’re staring at me.”

  “Oh! Sorry!” Lucy was mortified and her face flamed. “I was just thinking how much you look like the portrait in the hall.”

  “Do I?” Ness looked surprised. “I know I’ve got Dad’s red hair – everyone’s always said that – but I never knew my mum. Do you really think I look like her?”

  “Absolutely,” Lucy said.

  Her cousin’s brows drew together as she stared out across the water. “Dad and I were a team so I was often told I looked like him, but nobody knew my mother so I guess they couldn’t comment. Addy hardly mentioned her.”

  Uncertain quite what to say to this, Lucy could only nod. “Uncle Armand never spoke about her either but I know he treasured that portrait. Not a day passed when he didn’t look at it. Even when he was r
eally weak towards the end he liked to walk through the hall. It was like he had a silent conversation with the images in that room.”

  As she said this, Lucy’s arms prickled. What exactly had her uncle been saying? She supposed she’d never know now that he was gone, and anyone in the town who might have been able to shed some light on the matter was still guarding those old secrets. All the same, some sixth sense told her that Ness’s legacy was part of the puzzle.

  “It’s actually quite weird to come face to face with her. She’s never been a part of my life and suddenly here I am in the place where she lived and died.” Ness bit her lip. “I wonder why our uncle kept her portrait?”

  Lucy couldn’t answer. “I’ve no idea, I’m afraid. He was a very private man.”

  Ness laughed bleakly. “Yeah, so was my dad. It must have been a family trait. I don’t even know what really happened to my mum, only that she drowned when I was a baby.”

  They both stared out across the bay. What should she say to this, Lucy wondered? She’d always known her parents, and had taken care of them until the end. Even now if she chose to she could go and visit them in the stillness of the town churchyard. (Max had yet to get his hands on that. Hopefully exhuming graves to gain a nice slice of real estate would be a step too far even for him.) But to not know about her family? She couldn’t begin to imagine how that would feel.

  “I don’t know very much about it either,” she admitted, wondering now why she’d never thought to ask more. “All I do know is that the brothers fell out and were never reconciled. Annie from the tea shop might have some idea; she’s a bit of a local historian. Or maybe Merryn’s gran? I think she worked at the castle for a while.”