will stood between them. ‘A woman of unimpeachable virtue…’
‘Tell us your plan,’ Belle said again, and it was as much as Marguerite could do not to sigh with relief. She sat back and closed her eyes for one millisecond—to give her enough space to gather her thoughts. Then she started.
‘Penny-Rose,’ she said.
‘Who’s Penny-Rose?’ Alastair demanded.
‘The woman you need to marry. For a year.’ ***
Penny-Rose O’Shea settled the final stone into the dirt with a satisfied slap. Great. Finished! It had taken her all morning to choose the slabs that would be the foundation of her wall. It was immensely satisfying work, and Penny-Rose was satisfied.
She was also extremely hot.
Midday had arrived without her realising. She put up a hand to wipe sweat from her face, and felt ingrained dirt smudge thickly across her cheek. Urk! A beauty queen she wasn’t!
Never mind. It was good, honest dirt, she thought happily. She was doing what she wanted to do, and by evening she’d be even dirtier. Also, she’d have the next layer of stones complete. Building walls designed to last a thousand years might not be everyone’s cup of tea, but it was hers and she loved it.
‘Penny-Rose!’ She looked up to find her boss waving to her from the other end of the wall.
Was he reminding her of lunch? That was strange. Bert didn’t usually remind his workers it was time to knock off, but she rose gratefully to her feet.
But he wasn’t reminding her of lunch.
‘You’re wanted,’ he told her, thumbing toward the castle. ‘By them indoors.’
‘What?’
‘You heard what I said.’ Bert’s weather-worn face creased even further with a puzzlement that matched hers. ‘Someone came out just now and said could we send you inside. Pronto. There’s no mistake.’
‘They want me to go inside?’ Penny-Rose stared at her boss in disbelief, and then stared down at herself. She was wearing begrimed overalls, her shoulder-length chestnut curls were twisted into a knot under her filthy cap and every inch of her was covered with dust. She grimaced. ‘Why?’
‘They sent a message saying they want to see you, and that’s all I know,’ her boss said patiently.
‘You’re kidding.’ She glanced up at the forbidding ancestral home, where those who’d issued the summons were hidden.
‘They can see me by looking out their windows,’ she told her boss, and she grinned. ‘That way I won’t besmirch their ancestral floors.’
‘Don’t be clever, lass.’ Bert, normally the kindest of bosses, was perturbed and it showed. ‘I don’t know what they want, and I can’t say I like it. Do you want me to come in with you?’
‘Yeah, take him with you, Penny-Rose,’ one of the lads called. The whole stone-walling team was fascinated at this unexpected twist of events, and the cheekiest of the men came to his own conclusion. ‘Maybe the new prince has decided to increase his harem.’
‘Or maybe that other one—what’s her name, Belle? Maybe she thinks our Penny-Rose is prettier and she’s decided to tear her eyes out,’ another added, and his comment was greeted by hoots of laughter.
The entire team was in on the conversation now. They were all male, mostly a lot older than Penny-Rose, and concern for their protégée was behind their good-natured banter.
‘How would they know our Penny-Rose is prettier? We only see her for five minutes every morning before the dust settles back,’ one demanded.
‘She is pretty, though,’ the first lad said stubbornly. ‘Real pretty. If the prince saw her without her dirt…’
‘Well, he hasn’t.’
‘His mother has.’
‘Not without her dirt, and, anyway, what’s that got to do with the price of eggs?’
‘No, lass…’ Bert cut across the banter and his eyes were still troubled. ‘Seriously, they’ve asked to see you. You spoke to the old lady, didn’t you? You didn’t say anything to upset her?’
‘No.’ Penny-Rose wiped filthy hands on her overalls, thinking fast. ‘At least, I don’t think so.’
Penny-Rose had arrived at the castle with the team of Yorkshire stone-wallers six weeks ago, and she’d had her hands full ever since. There was so much to be done! After years of neglect, the west farmyard walls had almost entirely collapsed, and if they weren’t mended soon, the north and south walls would do the same.
So she hadn’t had time for socialising. The only contact she’d had with the titled landholders had been a conversation with the castle’s elderly mistress.
Marguerite had been out walking, and had come across a stooped figure sorting stones. ‘Good heavens, it’s a girl,’ the woman had said, startled, and Penny-Rose had chuckled. She’d deferentially hauled off her cap, letting her curls tumble to her shoulders.
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘You’re part of the stone-walling team?’ the woman had demanded, her amazement deepening, and Rose had smiled and once more agreed.
‘That’s right.’
‘But the team’s from Yorkshire.’
‘And I’m not from Yorkshire.’
‘Now, how did I guess that? Where are you from?’
‘Australia.’
‘Australia!’ The woman’s eyes had still been creased in astonishment. ‘Why on earth are you here?’
‘I’m working with the best stone-wallers in the world,’ Penny-Rose had told her, not without pride. ‘I’m gaining my master-waller’s certificate, and when I’m finished training, I can go home and demand my price.’
Then Penny-Rose had looked up at the castle where the soft gold sandstone turrets and battlements shone in all their glory, as they’d shone for almost a thousand years. Her green eyes had twinkled in appreciation of the beauty around her.
‘It’s great work,’ she’d said softly. ‘It almost makes up for having to work in the shadow of rickety old shanties like this.’
The woman laughed, seeming genuinely amused. She stayed for some time, seemingly intrigued by Penny-Rose’s work. Her questions were gently probing, but maybe it was her right to probe the background of workers on her son’s estate. Penny-Rose thought no more of it, and when the woman left, she felt as if she’d made a new friend.
But now…
Had she taken her joking seriously? Was she about to send a message through Penny-Rose that the team was no longer required?
Help…
‘Do
