More whispers, followed by ‘Oh, darling, don’t cry.’ Iggy’s heart sank until she heard a giggle from Lucie.
The curtain swept back and Iggy suddenly understood why not only Lucie, but her mum and Lorraine all had tears in their eyes. Looking like something out of a fairy tale, Lucie walked out of the dressing room and turned in a slow circle before them. Choked by the beautiful picture she made, Iggy couldn’t do anything other than bite her lip and smile enthusiastically when Lucie’s eyes met hers.
‘It’s the one, isn’t it?’ Lucie glanced around at them all.
‘When it makes everyone cry, I know I’ve found a winner,’ Lorraine agreed, then laughed. ‘Goodness, look at the state of us all.’ Bustling over to the banquette, the manager reached for a box of tissues on one of the side tables and handed it around to everyone.
Still clutching two glasses, Iggy gave her a helpless look which Constance caught. She hurried over with a smile. ‘Let me take that back from you.’ Constance took a sip then dabbed at her eyes once more with her tissue. ‘Goodness me, what a day.’
‘Someone help me out of this so I can have a drink, for goodness sake!’ Lucie’s plaintive cry set them all laughing and Lorraine ushered her back into the dressing room.
*
‘It’s all going very well, isn’t it?’ Lucie nudged the stack of boxes beside her which contained shoes, a sparkling tiara and a cloud-like veil. The dress itself required a couple of minor alterations and would be ready for collection in a couple of weeks. Constance and Helena were downstairs browsing through the racks of mother-of-the-bridge outfits Lorraine also stocked, giving the two of them a chance to sit and relax after the excitement of the morning.
Iggy glanced down at the box beside her containing her green dress and the matching bolero carefully folded into acid-free tissue paper and couldn’t resist smiling. ‘It’s proving to be a much better day than I thought it was going to be when I woke up this morning, that’s for sure.’
Lucie wrinkled her nose. ‘We saw the papers. I wasn’t sure if I should say anything, but I just wanted to make sure everything is all right with you and Will.’
‘I think so.’ When Lucie raised an eyebrow, she shrugged. ‘He had a more than plausible explanation for the photo so it sounds like it’s just another lot of baseless muck-raking like that stupid Where’s Willy article.’
‘But …?’
Iggy flashed a sidelong glance at her friend, wishing like hell they hadn’t made the sensible decision to switch to Buck’s Fizz which was a good three-quarters orange juice. ‘He told me he loves me.’
Lucie laughed. ‘Not the best of timing!’
‘Indeed,’ Iggy agreed, wryly, before the weight of Will’s words settled heavily upon her once more. ‘I kind of wish he hadn’t said it at all, though.’
‘Oh, dear.’ Lucie winced. ‘You don’t feel the same way?’
Iggy sighed. ‘I think I do.’ And that was the crux of the problem.
She’d been quite happy to ignore that part of her that had started to get over-excited about how well things were going between the two of them. The part that had caught her off guard once or twice with daydreams about her own wedding. Will was sexy and funny, and oh so easy to be with, and she’d been happy with that, flights of romantic fancy be damned.
A summer of fun, that’s what they’d agreed to, but then he’d gone and broken the rules. The worst part was, she didn’t know why. Had he said it just to placate her? To try and convince her there’d been nothing going on between him and Phillipa Cornwall? Not that it was Iggy’s business who he’d been involved with before they’d met, but when she’d first seen the headline and those photos, there was no denying the idea he might mess around with a married woman had unsettled her.
There was also still that little seed of doubt that perhaps there was some truth to the scandal and he’d only come to Derbyshire in the first place in order to escape scrutiny. ‘I’m worried he’s using the project at the castle as an excuse to hide out,’ she admitted to Lucie.
Her friend huffed out a breath. ‘I’m not exactly one to judge him for that, now, am I?’
‘Sorry.’ It was Iggy’s turn to wince. It had completely slipped her mind that Lucie had applied for the conservator’s position at the castle precisely because she’d been trying to run away from a scandal at her previous employer. Things had been resolved, eventually, and Lucie’s name had been cleared, but it had nearly had serious implications for the discovery of the lost Viggliorento painting.
Lucie waved her off. ‘I’m only teasing.’ Half-turning on the bench, she propped her elbow on the back of the seat, rested her temple against her fist and stared at Iggy. ‘Do you honestly think that Will is the kind of guy who’d screw up somebody else’s marriage?’
It certainly didn’t sound like the man Iggy had come to know these past weeks, but who could tell anything about anyone in such a short space of time. ‘No.’ Not liking the doubt she could hear in her own voice, she repeated herself in a firmer tone. ‘No. Will’s not like that.’
‘I agree.’ Lucie reached for her with her free hand. ‘And what does it matter what brought him to Bluebell Castle in the first place, only that he’s here now and he makes you happy.’
‘You’re right. I know you’re right; I’m just feeling a bit off balance.’
Lucie grinned. ‘It’s not every day that a super-hot man tells you he’s in love with you, you’re allowed to have a little wobble.’
*
By the time they returned to the castle, they were all laden down with boxes and bags. Both Constance and Helena had found outfits they liked, and after a trip to a nearby department store they’d found shoes, fascinators and handbags to match. The excited barking of the dogs notified the men of the castle to their arrival, and Tristan and Arthur hurried over to relieve them of their burdens. A laughing Lucie had refused to surrender her boxes to Arthur, even after he’d promised not to peek inside. With an imperious finger, she’d sent him back to his office and with Tristan’s help, they’d secured all Lucie’s accessories in the wardrobe in her mother’s bedroom.
Leaving Constance and Lucie to put their things away, Iggy sent Tristan to stow her purchases in her room and escorted her mother around the corner. She took charge of Helena’s bags whilst she opened her bedroom door then they paused on the threshold facing each other. ‘Thank you for finding my dress for me.’
Helena smiled. ‘It was the least I could do.’ She reached out and for a moment Iggy thought she was going to brush her cheek, but instead Helena’s fingers tugged at a lock of her hair. ‘Next we’ll have to do something about your hair,’ she said, her lips pursing in disapproval. ‘It’s in shocking condition, and probably full of split ends. And you’ll need to stop messing around in the garden before the wedding, or your nails will never recover in time.’
Twitching her hair free, Iggy folded her arms across her chest knowing it was a defensive gesture, but damn it, she was tired of the constant barrage of criticism. ‘My hair’s fine as it is, and I’m not messing about, I’m doing my best to contribute to this family’s future which is more than can be said of you when you were in my position.’
‘But I wasn’t in your position, was I, darling?’ Helena’s voice was acid now. ‘I was the Lady of the house. That’s never been your job, and it definitely won’t be once Arthur and Lucie are married. Ludworth is never going to be yours, and it’s time to stop pretending otherwise.’
The truth of it struck Iggy like a slap in the face and she reared back a step. Quick as a flash, Helena followed her, her voice lowering to a concerned hush. ‘Let me smarten your appearance, darling. Who knows, you might even attract the attention of one of your brother’s friends at the wedding.’
Shaking with a combination of hurt and fury, Iggy clenched her fists. ‘The idea I’d change myself just to catch a man is disgusting. I’m not like you, all surface and no substance! I’ll have you know that Will likes me just the way I a
m!’
She knew she’d made an error the moment Helena’s brows twitched up in astonishment. ‘Will? You and Will Talbot?’ Her tone made it clear such a thing had never occurred to her.
‘Yes, me and Will Talbot. We’ve been seeing each other for several weeks.’
Helena’s lip curled into nothing so friendly as a smile. ‘Well, lucky you. I suppose a man like that would need some amusement whilst he’s away from home.’ She arched a brow once more. ‘Oh dear, you didn’t think it was more than that, did you, darling? Haven’t you seen today’s papers?’
‘He’s not like that!’ Iggy snapped. ‘You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. God, I wish Arthur and Lucie could see this side of you, they’d have you out of this house in a minute.’
‘You never were good at handling the truth, Igraine,’ Helena said before turning back towards her bedroom. ‘I think I’ll have a lie down before dinner.’ Pausing at the threshold, she glanced back over her shoulder. ‘Don’t let your jealousy get the better of you. It’s not Arthur’s fault he inherited the title over you, any more than it’s his fault that you aren’t as close to me as he is.’
Jealousy? She honestly thought Iggy was jealous of her so-called relationship with Arthur? The woman had a bloody nerve. Before she could respond, she heard footsteps behind her, and Iggy turned to find Will standing a few feet from her, deep lines furrowed across his forehead.
He looked exhausted, and all she wanted to do was go to him, to comfort him and offer whatever support he would take from her.
‘Well, here he is, the inconstant gardener.’ Helena let out a titter. ‘I always knew the Cornwalls were too good to be true. Nobody’s marriage can be that happy.’
Will spun on his heel and walked off, but not before Iggy had caught the look of hurt on his face. Furious, she rounded on her mother. ‘What on earth did you go and say that for? I already told you that nothing happened between him and Phillipa.’
Helena’s brows rose. ‘Oh, come on, darling, don’t tell me you’re that naïve.’ When Iggy didn’t answer, she shook her head and sighed. ‘Apparently you are. Well, I just hope you’re right, but remember that old adage. With a man as good looking as that, there’s very rarely smoke without fire.’
Iggy stepped back because if she didn’t put some space between them, she feared she might slap the knowing smile right off her mother’s face. ‘Not another word, Mother, or I won’t wait for Arthur to see you for what you really are, I’ll throw you out of the house myself.’
Chapter 17
Humiliation and anger surging through his veins, Will stomped back to his bedroom. After a hellish day spent holed up in Arthur’s office, using the landline to consult with his agent and dodging WhatsApp messages from members of the press who’d managed to trace his mobile number from somewhere, all he’d wanted to do was find Igraine and hold her. At least the terrible mobile phone signal had prevented any of them from actually calling him.
Arthur and Tristan had been polite and sympathetic at his plight, both offering to do whatever they could to help out. Tristan had spent the day supervising the groundworkers and had assured Will on his return that the contractors would be discreet about his whereabouts. They recognised the kudos their reputation could gain from being involved in a prestige project like the water gardens and had sent their assurances via Tristan that their loyalty lay with Will. He could only cross his fingers and hope that was the case.
Picking up a cushion from one of the chairs, he tossed at the wall in frustration. He had no choice other than to try and ride it out; he had no power to do anything else.
The bedroom door flew open and Igraine threw herself into his arms. ‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for what she said.’
As the familiar weight and shape of her body settled against his, Will felt some of his tension seep away. ‘It’s okay,’ he said, kissing her hair. ‘She’s only saying what everyone else is probably thinking.’
‘She doesn’t know you.’ Tipping up her head, she pressed a kiss to his chin. ‘I was chatting to Lucie earlier, and she didn’t think for one moment there was any truth to it.
He sought her eyes. ‘And what about you? You didn’t seem so sure this morning.’
‘I’m not good with anything that hints at infidelity.’ She ducked her head into his shoulder. ‘I got engaged briefly when I was at university. I thought Marcus was everything I wanted-or at least everything I was supposed to want. We had similar backgrounds and upbringings and he was due to inherit an estate similar to ours. Our families were acquainted, I think there was even a marriage connection several generations back.’
‘Sounds like the perfect match.’ Will couldn’t help the little pang of jealousy over this unknown and clearly long-distant ex of hers. Though none of the family had ever made an issue of it, there was no escaping his life experience and Igraine’s were classes apart.
She lifted her head to look up at him once more. ‘He was unfaithful to me. Not just a one-off fling, either, but to an almost pathological degree. He’d decided to marry me because of who my family was, of what I could bring to him in terms of good breeding and station, rather than because he loved me.’
Anger flared in him at the old pain he sensed in her words. Whoever this Marcus was, he’d better never get within arm’s length of Will. ‘Bastard.’
‘Yes, he was.’ Igraine said in a fierce voice. ‘But he did me a favour.’
Arms around her, Will backed towards the bed until he fell back onto the mattress, pulling her down on top of him. ‘Is that so?’ He couldn’t help the smug smile he could feel tugging at his lips.
‘Yes.’ Leaning down she kissed him. ‘If he’d been a better man, I’d never have had the opportunity to meet you.’ She kissed him again. ‘To get to know you.’ Her fingers touched the scar on his cheek. ‘To fall in love with you.’
Heat curled inside him, burning away the last of the cold fear which had been twisting his guts into knots all day. Lifting her into his arms, Will turned and carried her towards his bed. Lying beside her, he twined one of her gorgeous mahogany curls around his finger as he stared into her eyes. ‘I never expected any of this.’
‘Me either.’ Her breath hitched. ‘Promise me this is real, Will, that I’m not making a fool of myself.’
‘Why would you even think that? You’re the most beautiful, the most real woman I’ve ever met, Igraine, and I’m crazy about you.’
Catching her lip between her teeth, she glanced away before meeting his eyes once more. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t let her get inside my head.’
‘Who? Your mother?’
Igraine nodded. ‘She thinks you’re only with me because it’s convenient.’
Those bloody stupid newspaper articles again. ‘Because of what she’s read about me, I suppose?’
Her nose wrinkled up. ‘Not just that. She doesn’t see why you’d want a scruffy woman with dirt under her nails and a fat bottom when you’ve got your pick of pretty, glamorous girls like Melody back in London.’
Christ. Igraine had warned him about Helena, but he’d had no idea she was so utterly poisonous as to openly criticise her own daughter like that. Reaching for her hand he placed a kiss on the tips of each of her fingers. ‘Your hands are perfect because of the way you use them to tend to the land.’ Letting it drop, he tangled his fingers into her curls and drew a handful to his nose to inhale the clean, zesty fragrance of her shampoo. ‘I love your hair because it’s wild and untamed, just like you.’
‘Will.’ There was a hint of embarrassed laughter in her voice, but the blush on her cheeks told him he’d said what she needed to hear. Good. He would tell her each and every day how beautiful she was, how sexy he found her, and how damn grateful he was to have her in his life.
Her fingers found his scar, tracing the puckered edges of it with that infinite tenderness that would have driven him to his knees had they not already been horizontal. Leaning down, he claimed her mouth in a searing kiss, wa
nting to drive away any lingering doubts she might have about his feelings towards her. When he finally broke for breath, her lashes had drooped to shade her hazel eyes, a look of languid need shining in them.
Flipping her onto her side, he leaned down over her and sank his teeth into the denim-clad roundness of her bottom in a playful bite. ‘Next time I see your mother, I’m going to tell her this is my very, very favourite part of you.’
Shrieking and laughing, she wriggled away. ‘You wouldn’t dare!’
Will pounced, pinning her hands over her head and her hips down with his own. ‘Oh, you know I would.’
*
When they walked into the family room before dinner, Will made a show of keeping his hand on her hip, his fingers splaying out to cover as much of her lovely curves as he could reach. Igraine was beautiful, and he never wanted her to doubt his attraction to her, though to be fair he’d just spent a very happy hour proving it to her. Helena was sitting on the nearest sofa so he made a point of steering Igraine straight past towards the opposite one and the pair of them sat down next to Tristan who was frowning over his tablet. When he glanced up to smile at them Will offered him his hand. ‘Thanks again for helping out today.’
Tristan shrugged it off. ‘Don’t mention it, now if you could only think of a way to help me with these dismal ticket sales, we could call it quits.’
‘It’s still early days, though, isn’t it? How long has the website been up and running?’
‘Only a couple of weeks, but I placed a load of adverts in the local press as well as via our social media pages, so I was hoping to have more to show for them than we have. The Facebook page has had lots of likes, but nobody seems to be clicking through to the website to purchase a ticket.’ He scowled at his screen. ‘Not that I can make heads or tails of their data metrics.’
Will wasn’t sure what to say. They could put as much blood, sweat and tears into renovating the castle and its grounds, but it would all be for nothing if the public didn’t show up in numbers. ‘There’s a few weeks yet. Perhaps it’s a bit too soon for people to be making up their minds. The bank holiday is notorious for bad weather so perhaps they’re hedging their bets and you’ll get more interest closer to the time.’
The Bluebell Castle Collection Page 44