A Castle in Cornwall

by Laura Briggs

  "I probably won't see her for another day," I said. "She had some pressing errands in London, so she'll probably call Mrs. Lewison before she calls anyone else."

  "Maybe Josephine will," said Pippa. "She's in the garden, so you could tell her." Until now, she had been busy teasing Edwin with a stray flower, one which he had been trying most desperately to reach from his stroller.

  Josephine was standing just outside the hall's windows, and when I looked at her, she motioned quickly for me to come outside. I glanced at the rest of the staff, but they were busy tucking the flowers into the darkening closet, and didn't notice.

  Not again. "I'll be back in just a moment," I said. I stepped past the buckets of fresh-cut flowers and made my towards an outside door.

  Josephine looked slightly pale. "I have a favor to ask of you," she said.

  A favor? I racked my brain for what kind of errand this might be. "If I can help, I will," I said.

  "I want to put the silly crush I had completely behind me," she said. "I won't accept any more gifts or notes from my admirer ... but I need someone to tell him that."

  "Why?"

  "Isn't it obvious? So Kristofer will understand that it's completely over. I can't keep receiving gifts and notes, or he's sure to know about it ... and it would hardly seem one-sided if he learned the rest of the story. I can't begin to imagine how I would explain it."

  "Can't you just throw them away?" I suggested. "You could always text him and tell him the truth, couldn't you? Then change your mobile number or something." I was searching for any answer that didn't involve me somehow, because I knew where this was going.

  "He never responds to my texts," she said. "And besides, I want him to really understand that it's final. That's something that a blocked number or a few characters on a screen can't do."

  "You don't know where he is, though," I pointed out.

  "But today I do," she replied." She toyed with the sleeve of her shirt. "You remember Stefan? The detective? I called to dismiss him, and that's when he told me he traced down the van we saw driving away. It's parked at an inn not terribly far from here." She met my glance now.

  I definitely had a bad feeling I knew where this was going.

  "He gave me the address — the name of the driver renting it is the name of a stranger as far as I can recall. But I want to return the gifts and have him understand I can't accept anything else now. No gifts, no contact of any sort in the future."

  In her hand was a paper sack, and a small envelope. I imagined one contained the little gifts and mementoes from before, and the other contained a note that told her secret admirer that she was happily in love and wasn't interested in his attention.

  "I want to be sure this becomes part of my past," she said. "I need to take charge of my own life. I'm going to be completely honest with Kristofer from now on, and be open about what I want and need. No more secret dreams or plans. It's what you suggested I do in the first place, really."

  I suppose it was my advice, sort of. "I see," I said, faltering. "If you're sure that returning them is necessary ..." Send the text. Send these things by post, if nothing else. What am I supposed to say to him?

  "There's no one else I can trust," she said. "Mummy would never understand, as you can imagine. Anyone else would ask questions, and I would have to make up an excuse for it. But you already found out, so you're the only person I can ask."

  The only person who knew her secret. True enough — and it was my fault I knew it, too.

  With a deep breath, I accepted the sack and letter. "Okay," I said. "I guess I'll ... I'll do my best to see that he gets them back."

  "Thank you," she said, breathing a sigh of relief. "I'm so grateful. I imagined how difficult it would be to get someone else to do it — even Marjorie."

  I knew I should have stayed sensibly behind when I saw Josephine slip away that day. Following her had made me an accomplice in this odd little scenario in the first place, so I had no one to blame but me, right? This was what I told myself inwardly, even though I knew I had done it because I liked both Josephine and Marjorie, and wanted the best for their family for their upcoming big day.

  Relax, Julianne. I told myself that if getting rid of a few plastic toys made Josephine feel more honest in her relationship, that it was worth a little extra trouble. After all, Kristofer seemed like someone worthy of the romantic, selfless gesture this represented in Josephine's eyes.

  The address was for an inn close to Penzance — a nice one that was more like a private resort, with a small beach, several old-fashioned cottages, and very dignified walls and a gate. After I climbed out of Marjorie's car, one shakily parked at the gates, I had to give my name before I was allowed through to the private cottages where the van's current driver was staying.

  Down a tumbled little stone stairway, to three cottages facing the distant beach, and a converted stable, all wrapped in the arms of a shady grove of native trees. The van in question was parked outside the stable-turned-garage, where a town car with tinted windows was also parked, alongside a vintage motorbike painted a very electric blue.

  I knocked on the first cottage, the one registered to the van's driver. There was no answer after two tries, so I knocked on the one next door, hoping maybe his neighbors were aware of his current location. After two knocks, the door opened. On the other side was Kristofer.

  "Julianne?" he said. "This is a surprise." He looked puzzled. "Is something the matter at the castle?"

  I was startled. "Hi," I said. "Um ... I was actually looking for whoever's staying at the cottage next door." I pointed towards it. "The person who drives the rented van parked over there."

  "That would be my driver," he said. "And the other members of our staff."

  For a moment, I was speechless again, until I realized the truth. For in Kristofer's cottage, I saw a grey hooded sweatshirt draped across a chair, and a bouquet of flowers like the dried ones in Josephine's collection in a vase on the table.

  I held out the sack. "I think these are yours," I said. "And I think maybe I'd like an explanation."

  ***

  "It wasn't meant to be a secret," said Kristofer. "Not entirely. That is, I sent the first few things anonymously ... I thought she might guess it was me. We had been spending so much time apart, and I missed our moments together. I thought it would be the beginning of a special surprise."

  He had opened the sack of knickknacks, and the envelope from Josephine, which explained much of the how and why of this situation, I imagined. His face was grave as he read it, but with the faintest trace of a gentle smile. He wasn't angry, and he wasn't laughing at Josephine's earnest gesture; he seemed touched by it, and I liked him a lot more for that reason.

  "Then you were going to tell her?" I asked. "When? How?"

  "An afternoon in Penzance," he said. "I was going to text her to meet me — to slip away somehow and come there. I had flowers —" he pointed towards the now-wilting bouquet on the table, " — and I was going to give them to her with a note printed like the others. I thought it would be romantic."

  It was cute, actually. And definitely surprising — although he had no idea how much trouble it had caused. "So why did you leave that day?" I said.

  "I was called away for a business emergency before I could text, so I thought I would just wait —" He paused. "How did you know that?" he asked.

  "I followed Josephine. Who followed you there, trying to find out who you were," I said. "She was determined to know. She couldn't understand how a stranger could sense so much about who she was and what she loved. I don't think it occurred to her that it could even be you. And when she truly thought about you in the midst of it ... that's when she felt so guilty for ever being curious to find out the truth."

  "It's my fault," he said. "Only ... I knew she was a romantic. These formal meetings, these teas and wedding planners ... it isn't how we came to fall in love each other. I wanted to return to those times. I thought we could be spontaneous again, if it were
only the two of us exploring Penzance."

  He sighed. "The person I must be isn't always what I wish to be. I wish for more freedom sometimes, more carefree moments. I want her to see that. Perhaps she would understand me better."

  I touched his arm, seeing how wistful and disappointed he looked. After all, with his plans deflated, there was nothing left but Ms. Krensky's endless teas and wedding plans.

  "She really does love you, you know," I said. "Plenty of other people would have kept fantasizing about some perfect mystery admirer. Or just tossed all this in the trash and tried to forget it happened when they changed their mind about it. But Josephine wanted to be sure that her life with you was completely honest. To me, you seem like someone who deserves that. And she seems like someone who deserves you."

  "She deserves someone who can make her happy," he answered. "I was trying to do it. Although very stupidly, it would seem."

  Maybe a bit stupidly. But he was earnest and endearing, and surprisingly romantically mature underneath this rather awkwardly-executed gesture on his part. Not many guys would have bothered to think outside a bouquet of flowers, I knew.

  It was a shame that it had to end like this. Josephine both embarrassed and awkwardly surprised, the whole thing collapsing into a very silly misunderstanding.

  We were both quiet for a few minutes. Kristofer's fingers reached for the little sparkly pink pony, the one that looked just like the carnival toys at the Pavilion. He probably planned to win another one for her that afternoon, or maybe a big stuffed animal — or lose a few games to a girl who was probably as good or better than he was at them. Wander around hand in hand in the sunshine, find someplace to eat and talk where it would just be the two of them....

  Kristofer lifted his gaze and met mine. "Might I ask a favor of you?" he said, after hesitating.

  I was sure he was thinking the same thing I was.

  "Name it," I answered.

  Formal tea with the dowager and Ms. Krensky was on for today, since the countdown to the wedding could now be marked by hours instead of days, if one preferred. The commanding wedding coordinator had just arrived ahead of the royal family, removing a pair of gloves and consulting the screen of her cell phone.

  "Where have you been?" she said, noticing my breathless condition as I hurried inside from a consultation with the caretaker Wilton. "I haven't been able to reach Mrs. Ridgeford all morning — she spends a dreadful amount of time on her phone, it seems."

  Yes, well, when one has a hand in running the government, I suppose they have more to do than wait on inconvenient family and friends, I wanted to snap back. Instead, I smiled nicely. "I was just taking care of a few last-minute details," I said. "Sorry, but I have something important waiting for me." I hurried up the stairs before she could ask me too many questions, taking a quick peek to make sure none of Mrs. Lewison's security guards were lurking about.

  Josephine was emerging from her room, wearing a lavender sundress that was a suitable choice for tea, and a pair of leather ankle boots. I grabbed her arm before she reached the stairs.

  She gave a gasp and a start. "Julianne," she said. She clutched my hand. "Did you give them back?" she whispered. "Was he upset? Did he agree not to send anymore?" She was trying hard not to seem too curious, especially while ensuring that communication was at an end between her and her secret contact.

  "He knows how you feel," I said. "But — there's one more thing you have to do to put it in the past." From the look on her face, I could see she was uncomfortable with this. "If you love Kristofer, then do it," I said. "Trust me."

  "All right." As I drew her to the opposite room's windows, I saw a look of determination on her face for ending this matter, then of perplexity for what we were doing. At least until I opened the curtains and revealed the ladder propped against the window. And her royal fiancé standing at the foot of it, wearing a grey hooded sweatshirt, a motorbike parked behind him.

  She opened the window. He waved at her. "I need you to tell me to my face that you do not want to hear from me again," he said. "Or you will never get this back." He held up the small, sparkly pony.

  Josephine's eyes were wide. "How — why —" She looked at me quickly, then at Kristofer, then back again, before her mind made the connection.

  "You were right," I said. "Your secret admirer, really did know you impossibly well."

  "Do you forgive me, Josephine?" he called up to her.

  "Why didn't you sign your notes?" she demanded. Less angry than embarrassed, I imagined. "Kris, I thought you were a complete stranger — and I was engaged to you! Why on earth did you do any of this?"

  "All I ever wanted to do was run away with you," he answered. "That's why. If you are willing to do it, then come down and forget our families and their silly fears and teatimes. If you do not mind that life can be impulsive, that is."

  On Josephine's face, a look of surprise for this answer. I could tell the breath had been sucked from her lungs, leaving her without means of replying to this speech from her fiancé. Suddenly, she laughed. It was a happy, carefree sound that I'd never heard from her lips before. "Gladly," she answered.

  She didn't have to give it a second thought, but swung herself onto the ladder, and began climbing swiftly down it. Kristofer reached for her hand when she was near the ground. On the motorbike, there were two helmets waiting.

  I waited until they were safely on it before I closed the window; the last thing I heard was Josephine's laughter as they drove away. By now, I suspected the sound of voices and the motorbike's engine had attracted plenty of notice.

  Downstairs, I met Mrs. Lewison preparing to come up. "Is Josephine upstairs?" she said. "I heard voices — where is she?"

  "She's not in her room —" I began, but Helen now noticed a flash of light on the window, reflected by the motorbike's mirror as it circled around to the long castle drive. "Josephine!" she cried. She threw open the window. "Josephine — come back here!"

  I knew it was too late; but that didn't prepare me for the military grip of Ms. Krensky on my shoulder. "What is going on?" she demanded. "Why is my client shouting?"

  "She's trying to persuade Josephine to come back for a very dull tea," I answered, politely.

  "What? What did — is she gone?" She rushed to the window, then turned back to me, accusingly, as if sensing I had a part in whatever calamity had just befallen her latest coordinator-client meeting. "Where is the happy couple?" she asked. One hand on her hip, an intimidating fashion pose as she waited for the answer.

  "Don't worry," I said. "They'll be back in time for the wedding." At the last second, I added, mischievously, "Probably."

  ***

  Ms. Krensky needn't have worried. Josephine and Kristofer returned long before the wedding — even if it was hours after her teatime meeting ended. They both looked worlds happier for having escaped the confines of their watchful relatives and security teams, and since no tabloid stories broke the next morning about the royal couple exploring Penzance, Mrs. Lewison could rest assured they hadn't been recognized.

  On the morning of the wedding, I was awake extra early. When it was barely daylight, I helped Pippa and Gemma finish putting the grand hall in perfect order, down to sweeping away the last stray flower petal from the bouquets in the urns. Marjorie and her staff needed our help finishing the reception area in the garden also. There was no forecast for rain today, though a weather pattern building offshore was bound to bring a cool shower in another day or two. By then, however, the newly-married couple would be off on their honeymoon, preparing to start a new life together in a Scandinavian city.

  I sipped a cup of tea as the sun rose. A brief moment to myself, long enough to watch the dawn light illuminate the harbor, the dark shapes of boats moving on glittering waters. I had seen a glorious sunset in this same spot yesterday — that was the only advantage of Azure Castle's little glimpse of the sea over my favorite cliffs, whose southerly face didn't exactly showcase a rising or setting ball of fire. But who n
eeds a direct view of the sun anyway? Not me, although I intended to enjoy this one morning's glimpse — indirectly, that is — to the fullest.

  "Have we finished with the garden arches?" asked Marjorie. She hurried up to me, adjusting her flowered dress and hat at the same time. "I'm in rather a rush — Samuel will be here at any moment, and I hardly want to still be fretting about wedding decor when he arrives."

  "Relax. We have everything in place," I said. "You go greet him and let the rest of us worry about Ms. Krensky's last-minute orders. That's why Lady Amanda brought us, after all."

  "You're such a dear. Thanks," she said. I could see she breathed a deep sigh of relief as she hurried along the garden path to the gate.

  By the time guests had begun to arrive in earnest — and security was blocking any members of the press from accessing the castle road — Josephine had donned her dress and her veil. She looked lovely, and far less nervous than the young woman who had attended Ms. Krensky's business-driven tea parties.

  She caught a brief glimpse of me on her way downstairs to the chamber beside the great hall, where I oversaw the delivery of the bride's bouquet from the floral closet. She gave me a conspiratorial smile and lifted her hand to wave her thanks. Tucked in it, I noticed a folded slip of paper, and a tiny pink object: her 'secret admirer's' treasure. For luck, I thought, as I smiled back.

  The photographer took their portraits in the garden after the solemn wedding ceremony in the grand hall. With the sea in the background, Josephine and Kristofer posed with eager smiles, and Anneka managed one a tiny bit warmer than her polite-and-proper version. Even Gustaf looked happy today, more like a prince than a stern general; and Helen, after tears in the ceremony, looked far more relaxed than usual by the time Dinah's masterpiece cake was cut.

  "Hasn't it been romantic?" Pippa sighed. "Me own was nice enough, of course. But there's something about royalty that just seems a bit exciting. Imagine if she really ends up a queen in some rich European castle ... with a jeweled crown ..."