by Liz Fielding
‘I want to be able to use the land, the woods, the creek. You are welcome to the castle.’
She wanted to hear more, to listen to his plans, say yes, please to his offer and tell him he could do anything. But it wouldn’t do.
‘It’s a noble project and I wish you well with it. Unfortunately, it won’t be here. I can’t accept your offer.’
He looked stunned, as well he might be. She’d just turned down a seven-figure gift.
‘You’re turning me down flat?’
‘One of us has to be sensible and I’ve clearly had more experience. While you’ve been building an empire, I’ve been dealing with drains, dodgy boilers, putting buckets under leaky roofs, taking care of my grandmother.’
‘I’m offering to make all that go away.’
‘I know, but you’re allowing emotion, sentiment, to get in the way of common sense. You could sink a fortune into the castle, the estate, but if a drunk driver sent my car flying off the road and into the creek, if I fell under a bus in Market Street, if the branch of a tree fell on my head as I was walking through the wood, you would have nothing. The money would be spent and Pierre Prideaux wouldn’t be taking on a castle in dire straits, he would be the beneficiary of your generosity. You’d have no claim, no rights and, for the second time in your life, you would be turfed out of Creek Cottage.’
‘I realise that and I’ve got a solution.’
‘Give it up, Kam—’
‘Marriage,’ he said, cutting her off. ‘We can get married. Unless there’s someone else in your life?’
It was her turn to freeze. Words, dozens of them, were tumbling from her brain—yes, no, please, crazy, yes—but thankfully her mouth was refusing to co-operate, her jaw locked tight.
The man would clearly do anything to get what he wanted, even marry her. It was extreme but he wasn’t the first to come up with the idea. Unfortunately, he had the wrong name.
She took a long slow breath. She just had to keep calm and keep saying no.
‘What was it about the entail that you didn’t understand, Kam?’
‘I understood it perfectly. The castle can only be inherited by someone who is born here at the castle, or it goes to Henri’s Norhou family.’
‘Ten out of ten for attention. I think that concludes our discussion.’
‘Not quite. If we were married, Agnès, a child would be a logical conclusion. In the fullness of time, he or she would inherit.’
A child?
He could never own the castle, but his child, their child, could?
‘You’re thinking long term,’ she managed through the lump that had materialised in her throat.
‘Priddy Castle has been here a long time.’
Her mouth was dry; breathing was a physical effort. A baby, Kam’s baby, was a combination of her wildest dream and worst nightmare and she didn’t know how to react, what to say.
‘Do you want time to think it over?’ he asked.
How much time would make her answer any easier? He was offering her everything she’d ever wanted, except the one thing she wanted above everything.
‘A marriage of convenience,’ she finally managed. ‘Money and property. My grandfather would approve.’
‘Is that a yes?’
‘I never did anything he approved of yet,’ she said.
‘Then marry me and it’s a win-win.’
‘For me,’ she said. ‘It’s still a gamble for you. You should have proof of fertility before putting your millions at risk.’
‘We could give it a try, if it will make you feel better, but, even assuming we get as lucky as your parents, it’s going to take nine months to produce the goods. I don’t think you have that much time.’
There was a hollow feeling below her ribs. An emptiness. He was right, of course, but for a moment she had been overwhelmed with longing. If she couldn’t have his heart, she would at least have the joy of his child quickening inside her.
‘No, there’s not much time,’ she said, pushing the thought away. ‘I have so many ideas. If I could just get my head above water...’
‘I will keep you afloat, Agnès.’
His voice was gentle, reassuring. He reached out, inviting her to take his hand, accept what he was offering. Selling it to her with gentle words.
‘I need some air.’ She pushed her chair back and stumbled from the table. ‘A lot of air,’ she said, when he made a move to follow.
She bolted for the back door, grabbing her coat from the mud room, running across the courtyard, past the old dairy and buttery that were now the craft workshops, through the stable yard.
She veered away from the kitchen garden. If he came after her, the greenhouse was the first place he would look. He knew all the places she’d hidden when things became unbearable. He knew everything about her, except that she had once loved him. Could have loved him again...
She slowed. Who did she think she was kidding? She had never stopped loving him, never stopped hoping that one day he would come back. It was why she had flat out refused to go to London and ‘do the season’. She wasn’t looking for a new love; she’d been in love since she was three years old and had spotted the nearly five-year-old Kam trailing after his father as he’d cut the grass. She didn’t want a new love because in her heart, in her head, she wasn’t done with the old one.
His return had not been the required fairy-tale ending, but then she had always hated fairy tales. She lived in a castle and knew the cold reality.
She stopped. Her legs were shaking and she sank onto a bench and tried to control her ragged breathing, to slow down the rapid beating of her heart.
Her last-ditch attempt to save the day had failed, the tax man was at the door and Kam had offered her the bargain of a lifetime. Why had she even hesitated? There were too many lives at stake to get precious over the fact that this had nothing to do with how he felt about her, everything about his feelings for the place where he grew up.
Running away like this was ridiculous, embarrassing, but she needed time alone to rationalise her decision. At the moment Kam was setting out what he was prepared to pay to get what he wanted. No more than he’d pay if he’d been able to buy the estate and this way he’d have a partner he knew he could rely on to run the castle, the gardens... He wouldn’t ever own it himself, but it would be like having a lifetime lease.
Her mobile pinged. It was a text from Suz.
Mr Faulkner asked me to tell you that he’s taken both the dogs for a walk. Do you want to tell me what’s going on?
She groaned. He’d seen her run and was letting her know that it was safe to come back. Could it be any more embarrassing? Could her day get any worse?
Without a doubt. He had given her a couple of hours’ thinking time, which, considering his generosity, should be plenty. Why was she even hesitating?
But somehow it felt like a game of hide and seek and sooner, rather than later, he was going to be coming for his answer, ready or not.
She had to go to the one place he couldn’t follow her.
Having promised Suz that there was nothing to worry about, assured her that she’d explain everything later, Agnès left her in charge for the night and half an hour later she was tying up at the dock on the island.
She’d brought food, warm clothes, kindling and quickly got a fire going in the stone circle that Kam had built. She pulled out the tarpaulin and found a quiet pleasure in making a camp, building a bivouac, doing things she used to do with Kam and had not done since he’d left.
She filled a kettle with the water she had brought with her and set it on the fire and then she opened her tablet and did what she always did when there was a decision to be made.
She made a list of the pros and cons.
There was a long list of pros.
He wanted access to the estate so that he could g
ive inner city kids a glimpse of another life, maybe internships with his company, the chance of further education.
They were good things, things she could be proud to be a part of. With the extra money available when she wasn’t spending every penny on keeping the castle watertight and barely ticking over, she would be able to help more youngsters like Suzanna. Offer them a place of safety with a chance to build a worthwhile and rewarding life.
The prospect excited her in a way nothing had done for a very long time. Until Kam had walked into her office and jump-started all kind of impossible thoughts, thoughts that had been as quickly stopped by his manner.
Her heart might have been pounding, but he had been all business. Now, faced with the reality of the entail, he’d decided that marriage was the only way to get what he wanted.
Marriage and a child to give him a personal stake in the castle. She had to give him credit, it was a good plan, although whoever had run the check at the probate office hadn’t realised that the child did not have to be the result of a legal union.
She wasn’t about to tell him that. Marriage would give her rights and a settlement should he become bored with his convenient marriage and decide to seek more interesting companionship. There would be plenty of women happy to amuse a multimillionaire.
She swallowed down a large lump in her throat.
She’d made a list of the pros. What were the cons?
He didn’t love her.
She loved him.
Everything and nothing but then her mother was probably the first bride to come to the castle purely for love.
She would only be doing what Prideaux women, Prideaux men, had been doing for centuries and marrying for the benefit of the estate.
* * *
Kam cursed himself for a fool, but anger had blinded him. He’d arrived all fired up with self-righteous indignation, blaming Agnès for their banishment when the clock had already been counting down. If it hadn’t been her, it would have been something else.
In all that time, seeing his mother working three jobs to keep body and soul together, missing out on his education, university, he hadn’t given a thought to what Agnès might have suffered.
She’d had plans, had her heart set on studying horticulture like her mother. Instead she’d been stuck here with her bully of a grandfather, caring for a sick grandmother who had never given her the love she deserved.
She hadn’t buckled.
Denied her choice of career, she had retaliated by defying the old man’s plans to marry her off to money. How ironic that she must now see it as her only hope.
Kam hadn’t thought of it that way. He hadn’t thought about it at all or he wouldn’t have tossed out his proposal so carelessly.
Marriage was a big deal and yet, at that moment, sitting together in the old kitchen, it hadn’t seemed like a leap into the unknown, but the most natural thing in the world. They both loved the castle, the estate, wanted to keep it a special place. As partners they could have it all and when he’d countered her argument with a baby, a light had shone from her eyes. At that point he’d thought he was there.
But this was Agnès. Stubborn as a mule Agnès.
He smiled despite everything. He’d fallen in love with her that last disastrous summer, but that had just been the physical manifestation of a love that had happened long before that. When she’d threaded maggots on hooks for him day after day because until she’d done that a hundred times he wouldn’t teach her to fish. When he’d hauled her out of the creek, floundering, blue with cold, but refusing to give up until she could swim to the island. When he’d stayed with her in the greenhouse to feed a baby hedgehog around the clock with an eyedropper because she’d refused to let it die.
That was why, with just weeks to find money for the taxman or lose the castle, he knew his stubborn Agnès would accept his inept proposal. She’d rationalise it as her duty to keep the estate from developers, to take care of the people who relied on her for their home, for their livelihood and, in some cases, their safety. And maybe, when she’d forgiven him for how he’d acted when he’d arrived, just a little bit because she had once loved him enough to risk her grandfather’s wrath.
And while she was getting to that he’d do everything in his power to show her that she wouldn’t have to close her eyes and think of Priddy Castle but open them and see that marriage to him would be an adventure.
He’d taken the dogs along the beach, hoping that Dora would show Henry that boats were nothing to fear, but the dinghy was missing.
He sat for a while on a rock, looking across at the island, hating that she’d felt the need to distance herself from him, finally understanding what had driven Agnès to strip off and swim out to him.
The temptation to follow her lead was strong but he had to give her time. This wasn’t the moment for dramatic gestures or declarations that she had no reason to believe. Telling someone you loved them was meaningless. You had to show them.
The first thing he could do was sort out the Orangery but before he could do that he needed to see the contract.
As soon as he got back to the castle and had settled the dogs, he went to Agnès’s office. There was an old book lying on her desk and he was about to pick it up when Suzanna appeared in the doorway.
‘Oh. I didn’t realise there was anyone here. If you’re looking for Agnès—’
‘No.’ She waited. ‘I’m looking for the catering contract for the Orangery. From some of the things Agnès told me, I’m pretty sure that she has grounds to renegotiate it. Maybe even cancel it.’
‘I’m sure she’ll show it to you when she returns.’ She had been polite but was clearly suspicious at finding him alone in the office.
‘Without a doubt, but I’d rather not get her hopes up without good reason.’
Suzanna shook her head. ‘It just about broke her heart when Agnès saw what they were doing. She thought they had listened to her ideas, but they were just humouring her and once she’d signed... That man at the bank wants locking up.’
‘That’s the first place to apply pressure,’ he agreed, ‘but I will need the contract.’
‘I shouldn’t...’ He waited. ‘Can you really do something?’ He waited some more and then she crossed to a cabinet and removed a file, clutching it to her chest, as if still unsure.
‘I’ll take a copy,’ he said. ‘Agnès will never know I’ve seen it unless I can fix things.’
‘She said your mother used to work here,’ she said, still reluctant to hand over the file, ‘but I’ve never heard her mention your name but it’s obvious you have history.’
History. A good word. And a future, if he was lucky. ‘We do. I’ve known her since she was three and spent my early life leading Agnès astray.’
‘So you were friends.’ Agnès had never talked about him—and why should she?—but that seemed to satisfy Suzanna and she handed over the file. ‘I hope you can fix this.’
‘I’ll do my best.’
‘Right,’ she said.
She was backing out of the tiny office when he said, ‘Agnès told me she’s trying to get your sister here.’
‘Yes. She’s growing up...’ And then she broke down in tears.
CHAPTER EIGHT
A marriage of convenience, for heaven’s sake. It’s the twenty-first century but nothing, it seems, has changed if you’re a Prideaux woman. The fact that I love him should make it easier, but he doesn’t love me so it’s much, much worse.
Agnès Prideaux’s Journal
AGNÈS TRIED TO ignore the ringing of her phone, but when she checked the caller ID she saw that it was Suzanna, and she wouldn’t call without good reason.
‘Suz? Is there a problem?’
‘No problem. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.’
Kam!
‘You borrowed Suz’s phone! Is she okay?’ s
he asked, quickly.
‘She’s fine. I told her I wanted a quick word with you, but that my phone was out of charge and she was kind enough to let me use hers to call you. You wouldn’t have answered if you’d thought it was me, would you?’
‘Probably not,’ she admitted. ‘You are a distraction when I’m trying to focus on...on the future. I needed space to think.’
‘You chose a good place to do that but focus on the good things we can do together. Who knows, I might find you another potential Tim. That boy would make a great mentor.’
She softened. ‘I’m glad you see his great qualities. I thought that I might set up a proper internship programme. If any of your young people wanted to try the life here, in the garden, the woods or the hotel. Provide some basic training in job skills. Perhaps your company could offer bursaries for those wanting to go on to higher education?’
‘We are going to make a great team, Agnès.’
A team? Not exactly what she’d hoped for, but if they could keep it impersonal, focus on the castle, the business, the young people they both cared about, have a shared purpose, then the missing element might not be such a yawning gap in their marriage. And that was the next item on her list.
‘A wedding in the chapel, a reception in the dining room, would be great for business,’ she added.
‘A wedding? Are you going to break the habit of a lifetime and do something of which your grandfather would approve?’
‘You think he’d approve?’
‘You told me you were expected to marry for money.’
His words stung, as she was sure they were meant to, and she responded in kind.
‘I was,’ she replied, ‘but if you imagine, Kam, that wealth would have made you acceptable to him in any way, think again.’
Agnès wanted to call the words back the moment they left her mouth, but Kam just laughed. ‘I have no illusions. The bigoted old bastard will be turning in his grave at the thought of the two of us together.’
Despite everything, she found herself grinning at this glimpse of the old closeness. It had once been the two of them against the world. Invincible. For a moment it felt that way again.