Finders Keepers Our compelling new serial

PART 1: Paige’s find was just what she needed to break her writer’s block, but Carey Drake she could do without

You can tread a familiar path for years yet never know what lies beneath your feet… So Paige Welby was thinking as she walked through Lady Wood, an ancient forest encircling Essenbury village, where the chalky Chilterns rolled toward endless skies of flatter fenland. This place had atmosphere, its shadowed, twisty paths and tangled tree roots enhanced by a legend folk whispered down the decades.

Paige’s grandfather, walking in front of her, metal detector in hand, told her the tale one winter’s night not long after she’d come to live at their cottage. A local lass died of a broken heart, doomed to wander the woods in search of her lost love. Paige had romped in this wood as a child, floated through it in the throes of first love years later, always with that legend whispering in the trees.

Grandpa Welby, or Pops as he’d always been to Paige, had stopped in a glade where a centuries-old beech spread its gnarly bulk. As Paige soaked up the atmosphere, he’d been waving his detector back and forth. When it let off a beep, Pops cried, “Aha!” and gestured her forward. Paige knelt beside the beech, fingers trembling as she unearthed a delicate object. Pops laid it reverently upon his palm. “It’s a find, chick. Two, maybe three hundred years old, I’d say.”

Paige peered at the intricate oval of fiery gemstone and twisted gold dulled with age and earth. A thrill shivered through her. There was something about the brooch, a quivering intensity to the bloodstone.

“It’s beautiful,” she breathed. “Who could have buried such a jewel?”

Pops shrugged. “The legendary lady?” “That would be a find! How wonderful to think this adorned someone’s gown or cloak, meant something to them.”

“Fascinating, isn’t it? Why d’you think I’ve been prospecting for so long?”

“For the fresh air, or so you’ve always told Sepphie.”

With a laugh, Pops straightened. “That too, of course. Fancy finding treasure your first time out! You must be a natural.”

Paige shrugged. “Beginner’s luck. You were right about Lady Wood. I wonder what other secrets lie beneath these trees?”

Before Pops could reply, a coppercoloured setter bounded through the trees, silk ears flying, and launched itself at him. “Well, well. If it isn’t Paige Welby.”

That drawl could only belong to one man, one that Paige thought consigned to her past. She turned to get her first glimpse of Carey Drake in five years and groaned at life’s unfairness. Still athletically built, a healthy tan to his hawk-like handsomeness and raven’s wing-smooth hair. She arched her brows at the rifle in his arms.

“Hunting defenceless beasts, Drake?” “Just keeping trespassers off my land.” Without taking his eyes from her, Carey barked, “Heel, Cassia! Before you lick Michael to death.”

Pops laughed as the setter slinked away. “Good to see you, Carey. Sepphie had told me that you were home.”

“We’re not trespassers,” snapped Paige. “Lady Wood isn’t part of your estate.”

“Wrong, actually” Carey corrected. “It belonged to The Bury since the Dissolution. So what brings you here… hoping to bump into me?”

Pops spoke before Paige could deliver a pithy reply. “I’m trying to teach Paige the prospecting craft.”

“Good luck with that! Found anything?” Paige closed her hand over Pops’ and glared at Carey.

“I’ll take that as a no. Let’s go, Cassia. Nice to see you again, Michael. Don’t let Sepphie back to work until she’s fully fit.”

Pops waited until man and dog disappeared before observing, “If that gem’s worth something, we’ll have to let

Carey know. He has rights if it’s his land.”

Paige whirled from wisps of memory clogging Carey’s path, trying to recapture the pleasure she’d felt upon finding the brooch. “Finders Keepers,” she said, but her excitement had dimmed.

Keeper’s Cottage stood on the edge of Essenbury, where Michael and Josephine Welby had lived since their marriage over forty years ago.

Paige had called the old lodge house home for fifteen years, having moved here permanently after her mother died and her father, an abstract artist who was constantly travelling, deemed it better for her to grow up in her grandparents’ loving, settled world. She’d just returned from a road trip with him, her own creative flair (for words, not pictures) in a slump. Learning Carey Drake was back simply made things worse. She’d loved him once, before he chose to leave just like her father.

Grandma Sepphie, as vibrant as her beloved flowerbeds, was weeding them diligently, if awkwardly, due to a bandaged wrist. “You look full of secrets,” she greeted them, laying down her trowel. “Don’t tell me you struck lucky?”

“We may have found proof of the legendary woodland lady,” said Paige.

“Ah, the lamenting lover! One of your favourite stories, wasn’t it?”

“Who was she?”

Sepphie shrugged. “Who knows?” “There were whispers she was a lady of the manor, entangled with someone below her station,” said Pops. “The more accepted version is a maid from the village, but I like to think it was a touch of Lady Chatterley and the gamekeeper, myself.”

“A woman of wealth would be more likely to possess jewellery, so perhaps there’s some truth in those whispers.”

“Well,” Sepphie said philosophically, “Every legend grows from an acorn of fact. Why the interest in this particular tale?” When she saw the glint in Pops’s eyes, she gasped. “You did find something!”

Paige drew the brooch from her pocket. Sepphie examined it then looked up with a smile. “What say we put on some tea and discover more about this trinket?”

Learning that Carey was back made things worse – she’d loved him once, before he left like her father

The case for a Lady Chatterley grows stronger,” Paige reported later as they sifted through the Internet and Sepphie’s local history books. “All the threads point to a definite link with a noblewoman of

The Bury’s past being the inspiration behind the legend.”

Sepphie’s eyes glowed. “How exciting! The person we need now is Carey; perhaps he could shed light on this.”

Paige snorted. “Apparently, that’s his wood. Needless to say, I didn’t tell him about the brooch.”

Sepphie’s age-lined face softened in a smile. She’d worked at The Bury and loved it all her life. Now past retirement age, she couldn’t bear to relinquish her housekeeping role, her reason for being there almost every day. Luckily, Carey had no intention of letting her go.

“What could be more natural than you helping me out at the house while I recuperate? Come on,” she added, when Paige looked about to protest, “Don’t tell me you aren’t just a bit curious about why he’s back?”

“I’m more concerned with discovering how old this gem is,” Paige retorted, resolutely looking back at the computer screen and its display of antique jewellery.

Sepphie’s smile grew. “In that case, I know just the place to take it in order to find out.”

The Nook had been owned by the Allinsons since the advent of Essenbury’s High Street, having at one time or another been everything from a haberdasher’s to a hairdresser’s. The shop now sold antiques and collectibles, some profitable, some of purely sentimental value.

The current owner was Ruth, a buxom lady with a sharp eye for a bargain. She called a cheery welcome to Sepphie and Paige when they entered. When Paige showed her the brooch, she was intrigued. “A fine piece, my love. Where did you stumble on it?”

“An outing with Pops,” said Paige vaguely, reluctant to reveal exact details.

“The workmanship’s remarkably precise. I’ll need a bit of zoom to see it…”

Ruth fumbled under the counter, emerging with a magnifying glass plastered to her eye, enlarging it to alarming proportions.

“Amazing! It has an emblem wrought in the rim, look. A never-ending branch of apples. Just beautiful.” She lowered the glass. “This reminds me of the sort of love tokens that were in fashion in one of the King George’s days, which would be about two hundred years ago. Apples are an ancient symbol of love, you see. Mind you, it needs a bit more polishing to see what really lies beneath. And I would need to show it to an expert I trust. But I’m pretty certain you’ve got yourself a rare piece of history here.”

Torn between a wish to avoid Carey Drake and a desire to learn what she could about Bury estate’s past inhabitants, Paige allowed Sepphie to drag her to the house.

Over five years had elapsed since she’d last been here, a red-brick building with arching latticed windows set at the centre of landscaped gardens. She owned to a slight trembling in her stomach as she stepped over the threshold. Then she was lost in time as she gazed round the entrance hall. The Bury had always had elegance befitting an old country estate. But there was also warmth, a perfect mix of past and present in the fixtures and furnishings, that Paige remembered from when she’d been a regular visitor here as playmate – and later something more – to the man who now owned it.

Rooms branched off from the entrance, the way ahead leading, she knew, to a sweeping staircase and beyond, an airy morning room looking onto an orchard. She sighed. The last time she’d been looking at this view, Carey was shattering her teenage dreams and her heart…

“I don’t see you in years, then twice in one day. Can’t keep away from me?”

Carey’s familiar drawl brought Paige rudely back to the present. She turned to send him a brittle smile.

“I’m here to help my grandmother. She’s recovering from a fall, after all, but she insisted she come and work. One wonders why she feels she can’t take time off.”

The sight of Carey’s scowl was enough to make her smile genuine.

“I’ve told you I’d rather you healed completely before coming back,” he sternly told his housekeeper.

Sepphie smiled and said, “Don’t mind Paige’s teasing! You should be used to it by now. I’ll just go and catch up on some paperwork. Stay here with Carey, love,” she added to a horrified Paige, “And you can ask him about that history you were interested in.”

Paige and Carey were left facing one another, Paige noticeably more uncomfortable than her erstwhile love. Suddenly, Carey burst out laughing. “Look at us! Like two patients waiting for the dentist’s drill.”

The softening in his gaze made Paige swallow hard.

She was about to turn away when he said, “Sepphie mentioned some history you were interested in?”

The change of subject was a relief.

“I was looking into local history and legends, particularly Lady Wood. Sepphie has some information, but she thought as Bury estate’s own son, you’d be able to provide more personal details.”

“I can, as it happens. Dad was toying with the idea of writing up The Bury’s history, but he never got round to it. Besides, something written by you would be infinitely better, with your skills.”

Paige’s elfin ear tips turned pink. Carey smiled wryly. “No need for modesty. You always had a way with words.”

“And you, for turning on the charm,” Paige shot back.

Carey stared at her so long, she was forced to look away. His chuckle set the hairs at the nape of her neck bristling.

“Come into the library,” he commanded. “I’ve some things that might be what you’re after. Over the years, Mum and Grandma collected clippings and there are some diaries they kept, as well as local history books.”

Paige followed, reluctantly interested. That spark grew when Carey put the books into her hands, and she began leafing through them. He watched her, a funny smile in his eyes, and when she looked up, she instinctively returned it.

“Still mad at me for leaving?”

The softened tone caught at Paige’s heart. She swallowed, annoyed with herself, and said, “Don’t flatter yourself. Thanks for the literature.”

She turned to go, frozen in step by his frank, “You could have come with me.”

She whirled back, clinging unconsciously to the books in her arms as years of frustration sparked into flame.

“I chose to embrace my roots, not run from them.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Carey barked. “I had to look beyond this village for life. I was too young to become one of those crusty ancestors hanging in the gallery.”

Paige’s smile was mocking. “Yet here you are…”

Carey glared at her.

“If I was too immature then, you were too earnest, too much ‘in love’.”

Her laugh was harsh.

“Is there ever such a thing?”

“I didn’t leave you,” Carey insisted.

But he was talking to thin air. Paige had already gone.

Paige had a sleepless night, her rest interrupted by a strange dream where she wandered aimlessly barefoot in a garden. Now that she was awake, she realised it was uncomfortably like the one at The Bury.

“Morning, sunshine,” said Pops when she padded downstairs to join him at the breakfast table. “Been burning the midnight oil?”

Paige nodded, raising a hand to hide a yawn. “It turns out the stuff on The Bury is really interesting, and I haven’t even started on the diaries! For instance, did you know that Edward Drake supposedly had connections to the infamous Sir Francis himself? And one of the ladies was a companion to Mad King George’s wife. Imagine what stories she’d have to tell.” Pops smiled from behind a slice of toast. “All very interesting, chick, but aren’t you supposed to be searching for a Lady Chatterley candidate?”

“Oh, I am,” Paige reassured him. “But this area has so much history, I think I might write about it, after all. A mix of fact and folklore, through the ages.”

“Sounds fascinating.” Sepphie bustled in to place a steaming bowl of porridge before Paige. “I might take a look at those diaries myself. So, you’ll be joining me up at The Bury again?” she added hopefully.

Paige’s enthusiasm faded. She was relieved she’d found something to pull her out of her creative slump, but she would have been much happier if Carey Drake wasn’t involved.

By the quiver that ran through Ruth the instant she walked through the Nook’s door, Paige knew she had something juicy to tell.

“Early Georgian, so my expert confirmed,” Ruth revealed as soon as they were in the back room.

“You were right,” Paige mused as Ruth took a strongbox from the desk, inserted a key in the lock and removed a package.

With a nod, Ruth peeled back tissue to reveal the Lady Wood brooch in all its former glory. Paige gasped. So beautiful, so bright, the warm red centre stone and golden apples seemed to sing of passion and promise, perfect for a sweetheart’s pledge to his lover. She felt a stab of guilt that she hadn’t told Carey about her find. And yet, anything connected with love had no place between them any more…

She could no longer resist drawing her finger across the brooch’s heart. Ruth watched with a smile. “What are you going to do with it?”

The strangest image sprang into Paige’s mind then consumed it… a woman in elegant dress, jewel pinned to a plume of lace at her throat. She felt herself sway, her head swim as a quiver of something – anticipation? fear? – shuddered through her. As the world began to fade into alarming black mist, she grabbed at something, anything, to save herself…

TO BE CONTINUED… Find out what’s wrong with Paige and why Carey Drake gets under her skin so much…

Paige was delighted to find something exciting but wished Carey wasn’t involved