Promises of Spring

by Jenny Lane

  He paused and they both sat deep in thought for a few moments. At last he looked up. ‘So now that I’ve told you my story, perhaps you feel able to tell me yours.’

  She smiled wryly. ‘Oh, mine is nothing compared to yours. I just became involved with the wrong person. I thought Brett truly cared for me — that we had a future together, but then he went back to his former girlfriend, leaving me feeling betrayed and utterly bereft. But, you know what? It’s all behind me now. At the time, I thought the bottom had dropped out of my world, but when I put it in perspective, so many good things have come about because of it.’

  Sophie looked at Keir and felt a surge of tenderness. ‘If it hadn’t been for what happened with Brett and myself, I wouldn’t have come to Penbridge in January and met you.’

  ‘And you have no idea how glad I am that you did,’ he said softly.

  The next moment, Keir had moved to sit beside her. He slipped an arm about her and drew her close. Cupping her chin in his hand, he kissed her mouth gently at first, but then, as she began to respond, more passionately, until she was filled with a maelstrom of emotions. And this time Erica did not interrupt them.

  As Sophie leant her head on his shoulder, Keir said, ‘I didn’t think I’d ever find love again after Nina. It was as if my heart was frozen, but you’ve changed all that. I don’t want to lose you, Sophie, because I’ve fallen deeply in love with you.’

  Reaching up she kissed him again. ‘I love you too, Keir,’ she murmured.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Friday was a strange day, Sophie thought, as she joined her family in the sitting room at Rowanbank.

  First Aunt Rose had been summoned to the study by James Hodge, who believed in doing things properly. She returned clutching two bulky packages and looking bemused.

  It was the turn of David and Anne Burnett next, and they also reappeared with some packages which they placed alongside Rose’s on the table.

  Erica was then called into the study with Keir and John Munn.

  Whilst they were gone Rose said, ‘Well, I don’t know about you two, but I’m itching to find out what Hugh has left me. James Hodge thinks these were probably intended to be given to us whilst Hugh was still alive, perhaps for a birthday or Christmas present, but he died before he got the chance.’

  They watched with bated breath as she carefully unwrapped the first parcel to reveal a delicate antique vase. The other parcel contained the matching one to make up the pair.

  Aunt Rose’s eyes shone with pleasure. ‘Hugh knew I’d always admired these. They used to stand on the mantelpiece in his study, and I quite thought Erica must have got rid of them. Well, of course, she nearly did! There’s absolutely no way I’d ever sell them, even though James Hodge reckons they’re probably quite valuable. Oh, my goodness, what’s this?’

  In her excitement, Aunt Rose had overlooked a small box which had been wedged between the two packages.

  Removing the faded paper now, she revealed a jewellery case. Inside, on a bed of velvet, were two pairs of diamond earrings and an exquisite brooch.

  Aunt Rose gasped and examined the earrings.

  ‘These were Mary’s. She had her ears pierced and I didn’t.’

  ‘So they would be of no use to you unless you sold them,’ David Burnett pointed out. ‘They ought to bring you in quite a nice little nest egg.’

  Aunt Rose’s eyes were misty and she turned away for a moment.

  ‘I knew Hugh wouldn’t forget me,’ she said huskily.

  ‘Shall we see what we’ve got here?’ Sophie’s mother unwrapped one of the packages to reveal a beautiful Victorian watercolour which had previously hung on the sitting room wall.

  In addition was a long box containing two Dresden china figurines. Yet another, smaller package contained a marquetry cigarette box concealing a pair of gold cuff links and a gold locket.

  ‘My goodness! It’s quite a treasure trove, isn’t it!’ Sophie exclaimed.

  The others returned just then. John Munn looking very pleased about something, declined Keir’s invitation to stay to lunch, saying that he’d have to return to work.

  ***

  Lunch was a much more relaxed occasion now that most of the formalities were out of the way. Presently, they all proposed a toast to Hugh.

  ‘Erica does have some more news,’ Keir said turning to her.

  Erica attempted a smile. ‘Where to begin. Firstly, I had no idea Hugh had put all those valuable things in the boxes in the spare room. I assume he intended to distribute them as gifts, but his premature death prevented it.’

  There was not much anyone could say to that, Sophie thought.

  ‘Well, it’s all been resolved now,’ remarked Anne Burnett, always the peace maker.

  ‘Practically, we’re going to check out the rest of the boxes, sell anything Erica and I don’t want and split the proceeds with Peggy Munn,’ Keir informed them, which explained why John had looked so pleased.

  James Hodge had kept very quiet throughout all of this, but now he gave Erica a meaningful look.

  She toyed with her wine glass for a moment before saying, ‘I’ve come back here to wind things up. I’m going to be married again shortly and didn’t want to leave unfinished business. Carlos and I have known each other for years, but I want you to know, Rose, that Hugh will always have a special place in my heart.’

  Sophie realised it couldn’t have been easy for Erica to have said that. This time, everyone raised their glasses to Erica.

  James then leant towards Keir and murmured something. Keir nodded.

  ‘There are still one or two other matters to discuss. Erica was intending to put Rowanbank on the market, but I’ve persuaded her not to, because I’ve decided I’d like to purchase it myself.’

  Sophie’s eyes locked with Keir’s. This was the most wonderful news yet.

  Keir smiled at her. ‘I came to Penbridge feeling rather apprehensive. I wasn’t sure how I’d fit into the community. You see, Erica had entrusted me to carry out a very special task for her. Sophie knows about most of this already and Rose knows a part of it ...’

  He faltered and Erica took over, explaining clearly and concisely about the craft centre project and how Hugh had been instrumental in getting it off the ground.

  ‘It was his vision,’ she said. ‘Hugh was a very rich man and I can tell you now that he donated a considerable sum of money to the venture during his lifetime, and has left a sizeable bequest. But the rest is Keir’s story ...’

  Keir picked up the story and this time managed to tell his audience briefly about Nina and how her work had won awards.

  ‘I’m convinced that, given time, her work would have gained international acclaim.’

  Keir went on to explain how Nina had worked from their home in Wiltshire and that, when she’d died, Hugh had suggested Keir might use his expertise to start the craft centre in Penbridge.

  There was a silence as Erica put her hand on Keir’s arm and said, ‘Nina Ellison was my sister. We were very different people, but Hugh’s project was dear to my heart and Keir and I hope to set up some sort of trust for young people, as part of the project.’

  Sophie wanted to go to Keir and put her arms about him, knowing how difficult it must have been for him to have shared all this, but she realised that now was not the occasion.

  Chapter Fifteen

  It was two weeks later. Erica had concluded her business and returned to Spain.

  Sophie and Keir were sitting in the study at Rowanbank. It was a mild March day and the daffodils were already beginning to raise their golden heads.

  Keir sighed with pleasure. ‘I love this time of year. The promise of spring with new life about to burst forth. The craft centre is on schedule for the grand opening just after Easter. Do you think Rose could be persuaded to display her dolls’ house furniture there?’

  Sophie smiled. ‘I think she might agree to that. She’s feeling much happier about things now.’

  Sophie leant agains
t Keir’s large, comforting frame. ‘There is still one thing that puzzles me.’

  ‘What’s that, my love?’

  ‘I suspect there was something a little deeper than the refurbishment of this house that caused the rift between Erica and Aunt Rose.’

  Keir looked at her and smiled. ‘Mmm I know I’d never be able to keep any secrets from you, Sophie. You see Rose had always hoped Hugh would marry her one day.’

  Sophie’s head shot up. ‘After Uncle Tom died, you mean?’

  ‘Well, naturally, but you see, she’d always loved Hugh, but he chose Mary. Tom adored Rose and so, after Hugh and Mary were married, Tom proposed and I’m sure they had a happy life together. Much later, after their respective partners had died, Rose hoped Hugh might marry her, but he just didn’t love her — not in that way.’

  Sophie stared at Keir as his words sank in. ‘And Erica knew this?’

  Keir nodded. ‘Hugh told her, probably unwisely. He’d had no idea Erica would behave in the way she did towards Rose and he confided in me. The problem was, I could see both sides. You must realise that Erica really did love Hugh and they were happy together.’

  ‘Poor Aunt Rose! That’s so sad!’ Sophie said. ‘I’d no idea.’

  Keir stood up. ‘Shall we go in the garden? It’s going to be an absolute picture when the blossom comes out.’

  He took Sophie’s hands and pulled her up, entwining an arm about her waist. ‘I love this garden!’ Sophie enthused. ‘Everything’s golden at the moment — the forsythia, the mahonia, the daffodils.’

  Keir drew her to him and gave her a long, lingering kiss.

  ‘What did I tell you about the promise of spring?’ he murmured against her hair. ‘Sophie Burnett, I love you, my own golden girl. You’ve made me come alive again and I want you to live with me here in this beautiful house. So will you marry me?’

  ‘Oh yes, Keir. Yes,’ she whispered, her eyes shining as she reached up and kissed him.

  They stood locked in an embrace beneath the apple tree at the bottom of the garden, listening to a blackbird as it heralded spring.

  If you enjoyed Promises of Spring you may be interested in Family Secrets by Jenny Lane, also published by Endeavour Press.

  Extract from Family Secrets by Jenny Lane

  Chapter One

  Rhianna stared transfixed at the phone.

  “I’m sorry, who did you say you were?” she asked the woman on the other end of the line, convinced that she must have misheard.

  “Your grandmother, dear – Letitia Delroy.”

  “My grandmother,” she repeated incredulously, “then I’m afraid you must be mistaken. I don’t have a grandmother.”

  “Oh, but you do and I am she,” the elderly voice quavered insistently. “As I’ve already said my name is Letitia Delroy – ring any bells?”

  “No, I’m afraid not, although we certainly share the same surname. You see my grandparents died many years ago - before I was born.”

  “So that’s what your parents told you. And of course, you can’t ask them, can you because they’ve both passed away now, haven’t they?”

  A tiny shiver ran down Rhianna’s spine. “How do you know that?” she asked.

  “Because I’m your grandmother,” the elderly woman repeated patiently, as if she were speaking to a rather slow child.

  Rhianna didn’t like to put the phone down because it was obvious the woman needed to talk to someone.

  “Why were you trying to get hold of me – I mean your grand-daughter. Are you in some kind of trouble?” she asked gently.

  There was a pause. “I might be – there are certainly things going on here that I’m not happy about. Look, is there any chance of us meeting up? I’d really like to talk to you.”

  “I – um – where are you?”

  “I live in Kent. Look, I’ll have to go now, but I’ll be in touch again soon.”

  Rhianna felt as if she had been having a particularly strange dream from which she was going to wake up at any moment.

  *

  “Your grandmother! If she’d said your sister or cousin it would have been more feasible!” Fiona Field exclaimed, leaving the picture she was hanging dangling precariously in mid-air. “I bet it’s a hoax – Marcus playing tricks.”

  Rhianna shook her head vehemently. “No, it’s not Marcus’ style.” She told her friend and co-owner of the gallery where they both worked. “Whatever else my ex-boyfriend might be, I’m sure he’s not capable of that sort of behaviour.”

  She thought briefly of Marcus and the pain he had caused her when firstly he’d told her he’d found someone else and secondly pulled out of the gallery they’d worked in together. He’d told her their relationship had been going nowhere and, on reflection, she’d known he’d been right. They’d been drifting apart for months.

  Fiona scrambled off the stool. “Forget him,” she advised for the umpteenth time, catching sight of her friend’s expression. “Now, what d’you think of this?”

  “It’s looking good,” Rhianna said, surveying the effect, head on one side.

  The gallery with its white-washed walls was a perfect foil for the vibrant landscape paintings of the local artist.

  “Of course there is just one problem…”

  Fiona glared at her. “Go on,” she challenged, a glint in her hazel eyes.

  “It would be even better if we had any customers.”

  Fiona tossed back her mane of red hair. “Oh, that problem. Well, it’s always a bit sluggish this time of year but our online shop is doing well.”

  “Huh, the art and craft materials might be flying off the shelves, but we’ve sold exactly two paintings in the past month.”

  “Well, business is always rather slow after Christmas and we’re still in a recession. Perhaps we should consider running a few more workshops – now, I could murder a cup of tea. How about you?”

  Rhianna nodded. She looked around the small gallery with a sense of pride. Her father had helped her and Fiona to set it up when they’d left Art College. It had been the fulfilment of their dreams.

  Since her father had died, almost a year ago, they’d made a few changes, but there had always been Marcus in the background, ready to step in should there be any problems. She blinked back the tears.

  “Didn’t you ever want to know about your family tree?” Fiona asked, as they sat drinking tea and munching digestive biscuits.

  “Nope. We were a happy family unit - just the three of us and we had plenty of friends, but now…Well, I suppose it would be nice to discover I’d got one or two relatives. I’d always understood I was the last of the Delroy line.”

  “Yes, I can’t imagine what it must be like to be an only child.”

  Rhianna suddenly snapped her fingers. “I’ve just remembered something. There was that beautiful floral tribute at Dad’s funeral with the message, Always in my thoughts, M. I never did discover who’d sent it…”

  Fiona stared at her. “And now you’re thinking M could stand for Mother!”

  Rhianna bit her lip. “Well, it certainly wasn’t Marcus. His wreath was very distinctive. Oh, I don’t know. It seems a bit far-fetched, doesn’t it? I think I’ll stick with your theory about someone trying to wind me up.”

  They sat in companionable silence, staring out at the bleak February afternoon and the deserted street.

  Suddenly Fiona sprang to her feet. “Great we’ve got a customer!”

  *

  Rhianna had virtually dismissed the incident when the letter arrived. The woman claiming to be her grandmother had withheld her phone number and Rhianna was the only Delroy listed in the directory.

  Letitia Delroy’s handwriting bore an uncanny resemblance to Rhianna’s father, Joe’s.

  Rhianna read and re-read the letter. It was concise and to the point. Mrs Delroy was very keen to set up a meeting.

  “I could arrange for Mrs Blackett, at the post office, to put you up for a day or two. I enclose her phone number. I’ve told h
er to expect a call from a young woman called Rhianna Soames, who was the daughter of a friend of mine. I think it would make sense to keep the real reason for your visit between ourselves for the time being, don’t you?”

  Perhaps you could bring some identity with you. Your birth certificate would be good and a photograph of your parents. Also, if you happen to have come across a painting entitled, The Woman in Blue, amongst your father’s possessions, I would dearly like a photograph of that.”

  *

  “Curiouser and curiouser,” Fiona said, studying at the letter. “Of course, that’s what it’s all about, isn’t it – this painting. Have you the remotest idea what she’s talking about?”

  Rhianna frowned. “Well, yes actually. There is a picture fitting that description in the attic, but I’m sure it isn’t worth anything – Dad would have said, wouldn’t he? The frame might be worth a few pounds though.”

  Fiona handed back the letter. “Well, there’s nothing to stop you going down to that place - wherever it is - is there? I mean the gallery’s so quiet at the moment it could practically run itself and we’ve already discussed closing for a month or two and just running the business online. Why don’t you suss it out - otherwise, you’ll always be wondering what it’s all about.”

  Rhianna got cold feet for a moment. “Will you come with me, Fi?” she asked.

  Fiona shook her head. “No, Rhia this is your thing, not mine and, besides, one of us needs to keep an eye on things here. Anyway, where exactly does this woman live? What’s her address?”

  “She hasn’t given me one. Just the one for the post office. It’s in a village called Brookhurst in Kent.”

  “Sounds like a set-up to me. You have to admit it’s weird. Would you like me to look this place up on the internet?”

  “Yes, please, Fi, that would be brilliant. Somehow, I just can’t bring myself to do it.”

  Rhianna slipped out to the post office. When she came back, it was to discover there was a customer in the gallery. She registered two things about him; first that he was extremely good-looking, probably mid-thirties, with a mop of rich chestnut hair and a finely chiselled profile and, second, that he was looking intently at their computer.