The Bluebell Castle Collection

by Sarah Bennett

  She was right. ‘I’ve been running away.’

  ‘And no one can blame you for that, darling, but you can’t put the world on hold forever.’

  Not forever, but perhaps for just a little bit longer… ‘Come on, let’s wash our faces and go down to dinner, everyone will be wondering where we’ve got to.’

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Given the state of her aches and pains, Arthur would’ve been happy to leave Lucie in peace that night and sleep in his own bed, but she was having none of it. She’d looked a little red-eyed when she and her mother had come down to dinner, but she’d waved off his concerns and assured him everything was fine—which had only proven to him there was something wrong. Fine was Lucie’s catch-all for avoiding things. When they’d crawled into bed together, she’d turned into him and clung to his body like she feared he’d slip through her fingers.

  He’d woken at one point to her tears wetting his chest, but she’d still been fast asleep, so he’d held her tight and kissed her forehead until she’d settled into a more peaceful slumber. When they’d woken, she’d acted as though she remembered nothing of it, and he hadn’t wanted to push, some sixth sense telling him he might not like hearing what she had to say. It was early days, he’d assured himself, it would take time for them to develop a deeper trust between them. When she was ready, she’d share whatever secrets put those shadows beneath her eyes.

  Even had he wanted to push her to confide in him, there was scant opportunity to do so. Other than at mealtimes, he didn’t see much of her as they were both busy with various preparations for Morgana’s party. Arthur also wanted to give Lucie as much quality time with her mum as possible. Whenever he saw the pair of them, they had their heads together, expressions serious and he didn’t want to intrude.

  *

  It was the following Friday afternoon when Lucie came barging into his study, waving one of Thomas’s journals. ‘Oh my God, Arthur, you won’t believe it!’ Excitement shone from every pore as she rounded his desk, plopped herself down on his lap and threw her arms around his neck.

  ‘Won’t believe what?’ he asked after a very welcome, and very enthusiastic kiss.

  ‘You know how I told you last night that some of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood came up to the castle to visit Thomas and Eudora?’

  He nodded. From what Lucie had been able to piece together from the journals, it was apparent his ancestor and Eudora had thrown convention to the wind and had been openly cohabiting together since Thomas had been forced to return to the castle after his father’s death.

  ‘Well, Thomas has asked Eudora to marry him, and he’s talking about commissioning JJ Viggliorento to paint a portrait of the two of them to commemorate it!’

  ‘And you think this is when things are going to go wrong for Thomas and Eudora?’ They’d both known it was coming. Lucie had told him that it was on record that JJ and Eudora married in 1859 less than two years after Thomas inherited the baronetcy.

  ‘Well, yes, but sad as that is, that’s not really the point.’ Lucie grabbed his face in her hands. ‘Don’t you understand what this means? If such a painting were to exist, it could be worth a lot of money.’

  Okay, now he was excited. ‘Does it say anything else about it?’

  She leaned back, looking sheepish. ‘I don’t know, as soon as I read that bit, I had to come and tell you.’ Her eyes widened in horror. ‘Oh, God! What if JJ and Eudora run off together before the painting gets done?’ She scrambled off his lap and snatched up the journal she’d abandoned on his desk. ‘I need to find out.’

  He pointed towards the armchair by the window, trying not to let his excitement get the better of him. ‘Get reading.’

  *

  After the fourth time he’d interrupted Lucie for an update, she’d banished him from the study which was how he’d come to find himself out in the woods with his brother and sister hiding the gaily painted wooden eggs Iggy had found to use for the Easter hunt. The wooden eggs would be exchanged for chocolate treats when the children returned to the marquee. They’d made it clear to people they were welcome to bring their dogs with them, and with the castle’s pack roaming around too, they didn’t want to risk leaving chocolate eggs out. It also reduced the chances of rubbish spoiling the woods as any missed wooden eggs wouldn’t cause any harm and would likely turn up later in the year once the grass died back.

  The bluebells were out in all their glory, transforming the clearing where the stone circle sat into a sea of purply-blue. Placing the last egg he’d been given into a hollow created by the roots of an ancient oak, Arthur knuckled the small of his back as he straightened up. ‘That’s my last one,’ he called across to Iggy who was hanging a bright-yellow cardboard arrow from the branches of a tree on the other side of the clearing. ‘Those signs are great.’

  When he reached Iggy’s side, she was studying the arrow with a critical tilt of her head. ‘Do you think they’ll work?’

  ‘Absolutely, they’ll certainly do for this weekend and I’ll get some proper ones made up before we open in the summer. The fluorescent colours you’ve chosen really stand out, so they’ll be easy to spot. And we’ll be around to make sure people find their way back okay.’ He and Tristan had also taken the precaution of tying off any pathways which led in the wrong direction. ‘As long as people stick close to the paths, there’ll be no problems.’

  Iggy hooked her arm around his waist and they strolled back towards the castle, meeting Tristan on the way who’d been in charge of hiding eggs along the main path. ‘You done?’

  Tristan nodded. ‘I reckon so.’ He moved to Iggy’s other side and took her free hand. ‘I can’t remember the last time we did something like this, just the three of us.’

  ‘Not since New Year’s Eve,’ Iggy said in a soft voice.

  ‘Dad would’ve loved this, wouldn’t he?’ Arthur swallowed down the lump in his throat. ‘Okay, none of that. No one is allowed to be sad.’

  ‘Yes, Sir Arthur. Whatever you say, Sir Arthur.’ Tristan put on a broad accent as he tugged his forelock with his free hand.

  Arthur aimed a kick at his brother, almost taking the three of them down in the process. ‘Stop it, children!’ Iggy warned in a mock-stern voice. When they’d settled down and were walking arm in arm once more, she hugged Arthur’s elbow with her own. ‘Tell us about this great discovery of Lucie’s then.’

  ‘We’re not sure if it will come to anything yet.’ The warning was for himself as much as the others. He’d made the mistake of Googling JJ Viggliorento on his phone and some of the prices his paintings had sold for were mind-blowing. Even some of his preparatory sketches had gone for a hundred grand. With that kind of money, he really would be able to make a go of things.

  ‘But there’s a possibility of a painting by this JJ chap?’ Tristan asked.

  Arthur shrugged. ‘Who knows? But at the end of the day, if there is one why hasn’t anyone heard of it? The guy’s one of the most sought after of the Pre-Raphaelites. There’s proper catalogues of all his works and no mention of Thomas anywhere.’

  ‘And surely if it existed, we’d know about it?’ He couldn’t fault Iggy’s logic.

  ‘That’s why I’m worried it’s just a wild goose chase.’ Arthur admitted.

  ‘But if it’s not…’ Tristan said.

  ‘I know, but we can’t let ourselves think about it, not until Lucie’s had the chance to do some more research.’ No, he wouldn’t let himself think about it, but he could hope. God, he could hope…

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  With the Easter egg hunt in full swing, the woods around her were bright with the sounds of laughter and excited cries of triumph. Lucie had taken up post about halfway along the path to steer people in the right direction, and to help out any children who’d so far been unlucky in finding an egg for themselves. She watched with a smile as a little girl stomped her foot in frustration while her harassed-looking father tried to placate her. ‘Don’t worry, Emily, I’m sure we’ll fin
d one soon.’

  Lower lip wobbling, the little girl shook her head. ‘But we’ve looked everywhere!’

  Not wanting any tears, Lucie hurried over towards them. She’d had a good scout around earlier so knew where some of the eggs were hiding. ‘Look, Emily, what’s that over there?’ Lucie crouched down beside the little girl and pointed towards a flash of red poking out of the long grass.

  The little girl dashed towards her prize, holding the painted egg aloft in both hands. ‘I got one, Daddy!’

  ‘Yes, you did. Well done!’ Emily’s father cast a grateful smile towards Lucie. ‘Thanks, you’re a lifesaver.’

  ‘You’re welcome. We want to make sure everyone gets a prize. There’ll be some games up by the marquee in a little bit, and anyone that enters receives something.’

  Bending down to gather his daughter up, the man smiled wider. ‘We’re having a wonderful day, aren’t we, sweetheart?’

  Emily nodded before suddenly being overcome with an attack of shyness and hiding her face in her father’s shoulder.

  ‘We’re so pleased everyone’s come to help us celebrate. If you follow the path it’ll lead you to the circle where I’m sure there are more eggs to find. You’ll see the arrows signposting the way back.’

  ‘Thanks again for your help. Say bye-bye, Emily.’

  The little girl peeped over her dad’s shoulder. ‘Bye.’

  Lucie sent them off with a wave, then turned to greet the next group of people heading along the path. Recognising, Arthur who was strolling towards her chatting to a couple, her heart skipped a little beat.

  ‘How’s it going?’ he asked as he bent to kiss her cheek. ‘It’s mayhem up at the marquee. Iggy can hardly keep up with all the kids clamouring to exchange their wooden eggs for chocolate ones.’

  ‘It’s been brilliant, really busy, although it seems to have thinned out now.’ She cast a quick glance back up the empty path.

  Arthur nodded. ‘We reckon just about everyone has come through, so I’ve come to collect you.’ He gestured towards the couple standing off to one side. ‘I wanted to introduce you to some friends of mine. This is Joss, and his wife, Henrietta. I think I mentioned them to you when you first arrived. My father was Joss’s godfather.’

  A wave of nausea ripped through Lucie so fast and hard, she thought she might faint. Though they hadn’t seen each other for years, she recognised the heavily-pregnant blonde from their days at school together. From the interested raise of her eyebrow, it was clear that Henrietta remembered her just as clearly. ‘Hello, Lucie.’

  ‘Hi, uh, long time no see.’ Lucie swallowed the bile in her throat and turned to the sandy-haired man beside her former friend. ‘Hello, Joss, is it? It’s good to meet you.’

  Apparently unaware of the tension between Lucie and his wife, Joss took her hand and shook it with enthusiasm. ‘Hello! I’m delighted to meet you. I couldn’t believe it when Arthur told me the other day that he’d finally met a decent girl. About bloody time, too!’ He clapped Arthur on the shoulder.

  ‘I didn’t know you’d been in contact.’ Although why would Arthur feel obligated to give her the details of every person he spoke to?

  ‘I wanted Joss and his folks, and Henrietta, of course, to come and celebrate with us. I’m not sure if I told you, but our fathers were at school together, same as us. We’ve grown up in and out of each other’s homes, so Joss is a bit of a surrogate great-nephew to Morgana.’

  ‘She’s in fine form, isn’t she?’ The way Joss’s eyes crinkled as he smiled told her he did a lot of it, and Lucie started to feel a little bit more relaxed in his friendly presence. ‘I swear she hasn’t aged a day since we were kids.’

  ‘How long have you been here at the castle, Lucie?’ The question from Henrietta sent Lucie’s nerves skyrocketing once more.

  ‘Umm, just a little over a month, I’m here on a research project.’ Feeling panicked by the way Henrietta was scrutinising her, Lucie turned to Arthur. ‘Perhaps we should be getting back?’

  ‘There’s plenty of time. I thought we could show Henrietta the circle, as this is her first visit here, and we can round up any stragglers along on the way.’ He touched a finger to her cheek. ‘Are you okay, you’re very pale.’

  ‘I’m fine. Just a bit thirsty. I’ve been out here a couple of hours, and I forgot to bring any water with me. You guys go ahead, and I’ll head back and find a drink.’

  ‘Don’t worry, we’ve got you covered.’ Joss unslung a small backpack from his shoulder. ‘Now Henrietta is in her last few weeks, we’ve taken to carrying everything but the kitchen sink with us.’ He fished a bottle of water out and handed it to her. ‘There you go.’

  Great. Friendly and helpful, just what she needed.

  She tried to refuse it but was assured there was plenty more. Before she knew quite what was happening, she and Arthur were walking hand-in-hand a few paces behind Joss and Henrietta. ‘I didn’t think you knew each other,’ Arthur murmured.

  Hating the hot splash of embarrassment rising on her cheeks, Lucie turned her head away, as though admiring the bluebells dancing in the breeze. ‘It was a long time ago. We kind of lost touch when I had to leave Wessingdean.’

  ‘I’m sorry. Perhaps I should have mentioned they were coming. Did the two of you have some kind of falling out?’

  She should tell him what had happened, about how Henrietta’s father was one of the many people who’d fallen victim to her father’s fraudulent schemes, but she didn’t want to drag it up today of all days. Having already set it in her mind to talk to Arthur about everything, she’d been feeling a bit less guilty. Until now, that was. No. She needed to stick to her plan and wait until after the party, and until after her mum had gone back home. It would be bad enough for Lucie to relive it all, without putting her through it as well. ‘It’s not that. I don’t have anything against Henrietta.’ Though that might not be the same case for her. ‘I’d just rather not stir up any unhappy memories this weekend, okay? Give me a bit of time, that’s all I’m asking.’

  Arthur squeezed her hand with his, a comforting gesture that made her feel ten times worse. ‘Okay.’

  Arthur and Joss kept up an easy stream of conversation as they made their way down around the stone circle and back towards the rear lawns and the marquee. The queue of children claiming their Easter eggs had lessened to a trickle and Lucie could see Tristan and Lancelot setting up for the first of the games—a sack race. Leaving Arthur and Joss to settle Henrietta in a shady spot beneath the marquee, Lucie went to find her mum.

  Constance and Mrs W were laughing together as they arranged covered plates of sandwiches, cakes and homemade sausage rolls on a large trestle table set up along the opposite end of the marquee. ‘Can I give you a hand?’ Lucie asked, not wanting to make a scene in front of the housekeeper.

  ‘I think we’re just about there, darling. What do you say, Pauline?’ Constance and Mrs W had become firm friends over the past couple of days once she’d insisted on being allowed to help with the party preparations.

  ‘There’s just the trifles to bring out, Connie. I’ll pop in and give Betsy a hand with them.’ The housekeeper departed, leaving the two of them alone.

  ‘Mum…Henrietta’s here.’

  Constance put her arms around Lucie and drew her into a hug. ‘I know. I saw her when she arrived. She’s the absolutely spitting image of her mother, so I recognised her instantly.’ Putting a finger under Lucie’s chin she raised it until their eyes met. ‘Did she say something to you?’

  Lucie shook her head. ‘No, she was very polite, actually. I just felt so awkward and embarrassed.’

  Constance clicked her tongue. ‘There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. You were just a little girl. Like I’ve already told you, what your father did was nothing to do with you. I feel ridiculous and foolish for letting him dupe me all those years, but there’s nothing for you to be ashamed of.’

  ‘I know, it’s just…I told Arthur I didn’t know her, and now
he knows I’ve lied to him about it.’ Lucie hung her head. Only a small lie, but they were building up these lies, and omissions and secrets.

  ‘I’m sure once you explain everything, he’ll understand.’ Her next words filled Lucie with horror. ‘Did you want me to speak to him?’

  ‘Goodness me, no!’ Talk about taking the coward’s way out. No, this was her mess and she would deal with it. Soon. ‘It’s fine, really. I was just a bit shocked to her see her, that’s all. Don’t worry about it.’

  Constance smoothed a stray strand of hair off Lucie’s face. ‘Well, as long as you’re sure?’ She didn’t look entirely convinced.

  ‘I’m sure.’ She caught sight of Mrs W and Betsy making their way from the kitchen doors. ‘Look, here come the trifles. I’ll go and let Arthur know, so he can make an announcement about the buffet.’

  ‘All right, darling.’ As she turned away, Constance stopped her with a hand on her arm. ‘Don’t leave it too long, Lucie, or he might think you have something to hide. Which you don’t, of course.’

  Other than she was the daughter of a convicted fraudster who had taken the job here at Bluebell Castle under false pretences. Nothing to hide, at all. Lucie somehow forced her lips into some semblance of a smile. ‘I’ll talk to him after the party is over.’ And hope it didn’t mean the end of their own personal party once he understood the full truth.

  *

  There was little left of the buffet than a handful of crumbs and those visitors from the village with small children had been slowly trooping back down the hill in dribs and drabs. The sound system was playing some easy listening instrumentals, providing a gentle backdrop to the various conversations at the tables scattered around the marquee. Tristan, had set up some large metal tubs borrowed from the pub and filled them with ice. Bottles of beer and wine, and cans of soft drinks rested in the chilled buckets for anyone who wanted a drink to help themselves. The crowd had thinned out around the central table were Morgana had been set up like a queen surveying her court. Dozens of cards, bouquets of flowers and numerous small gifts covered the table in front of her.