“Oh! I can see sheep on the mountainside.”
The Duke nodded and pointed with his whip.
“You are right. The estate earns most of its income from sheep – from their wool. Luckily for the sheep, their lifestyle does not make them good to eat! All that running about across the moors makes the meat tough.
“If you stay in Glentorran for long, you are sure to meet some of the shepherds. They are a law to themselves, but good men.”
Viola hesitated to make any remark that could give offence, but her honesty at last forced her to say,
“Although, of course, it is none of my business, I have heard that Glentorran has fallen a little on hard times recently.”
The Duke did not reply immediately.
He was busy keeping Brandy in check. The horse had spooked as a rabbit took off from almost under his hooves.
At last he replied,
“I am sure it is quite obvious to someone who is in the same position. All the signs are here. The lack of staff, the plainness of the food, how incredibly shabby the Castle has become and as for the grounds –
“Yes, Viola, you and your brother, more than most people will, I am sure, understand the plight of Glentorran.
“My father – well, I will not speak ill of the dead! Let me just say that there were debts that had to be settled when I inherited the title, some of which I am still paying!”
“My father – ”
Viola paused and then continued slowly,
“My father was a man who chased after dreams all his life. And chasing dreams costs money. David and I never went hungry or cold, but our lives could have been very much easier if Papa had stayed at home.”
The Duke sighed.
“I could even accept the situation with more grace if my father had had dreams of making Glentorran a better place – a Castle of Dreams. But he hardly ever came up to Scotland. His time was spent gambling in London.
“And it isn’t just the Castle that has been neglected. The people who live in the surrounding areas have such a hard life.
“Do you know there is not a hospital for over a hundred miles? My people here often die before they can be treated. Our one doctor does his very best, but the poor cannot pay him and fish or vegetables don’t help him that much!
“If I had sufficient money, I would build a hospital somewhere close by. A place where operations could be performed, broken bones set and lives saved.”
And without another word he urged his horse into a canter and Viola’s mount followed.
Together they crested a steep rise and reined in to gaze down on the coastline that lay before them.
The sea this morning was like pale blue silk, hardly breaking over the rocky reef that ran parallel to the beach. It was hard to believe that this was the very same sea that had so pounded and destroyed the Van Ashton’s beautiful yacht.
The Duke pointed with his whip again.
“Over there, do you see the manse and the houses surrounding it, Viola? Follow along a way and you will see the harbour where the fishing fleet is moored. That is all part of the Glentorran estate.”
“Oh, was it those boats who so bravely rescued us all yesterday?”
“Aye, that it was.”
“May I be allowed to thank them?”
The Duke smiled.
“Certainly. Although they would not expect to be thanked for performing such a service. They are all most independent characters, these people of our fishing village. But we can make our way down there by all means.”
Side by side they rode down the track towards the harbour.
“Who was the man who so expertly rowed David and me to shore?” enquired Viola.
He laughed.
“Oh, that was Fergus – Fergus Lyall. I have known him all my life. You see, when I was a bairn, I lived with my parents and wee Meg in Edinburgh. But City life did not suit me and I was often sent up here to Glentorran to stay with my grandfather.
“He was very elderly and loved the quiet of the library. Poor man, I was a wild rowdy boy who must have tried his patience to the limit! I lived outdoors most of the time and soon found friends in the fishing village. Fergus and I grew up together, until I was sent to boarding school, of course.”
Viola could picture him in her mind.
A small dark-haired boy in an old kilt and probably a dirty torn jersey, running through the long heather with a dog panting at his heels, full of the high spirits of youth, never dreaming of what lay ahead of him.
The track to the village grew stonier and cut deeply between two sides of the cliff face.
Viola needed all her horsemanship skills to keep in the saddle as Bonnie slid and slithered down the slope, her hooves sending up little sparks from the cobbles.
At last they reached the harbour, a small half-circle cut into the coastline as if it was a bite taken from a piece of bread.
A stone jetty ran out to the entrance of the harbour with all the Glentorran fishing fleet moored alongside, their paintwork gleaming red and blue, emerald and black.
Overhead seagulls screamed and dived for small tit- bits as one of the boats had just landed its catch.
Some of the women, shawls draped over their heads, were sorting out fish from crabs.
“I love all the different colours of the boats,” Viola enthused.
“Every family traditionally owns a different colour. Never tell anyone, but I have a preference for the scarlet ones, but Fergus owns that dark blue vessel, moored right at the far end. His father taught us both to sail when we were just lads.”
Viola admired the fleet, wondering how odd it must have felt for the Duke when he realised that he would grow up to inherit the Glentorran estate whilst his friend would stay a fisherman.
“You have remained friends?” she asked hesitantly, trying to understand.
The Duke chuckled.
“Dear Lord, yes. Here in Scotland the people have a different approach to titles, Viola. I may be the Duke of Glentorran but as far as Fergus is concerned, I am still Rob, the boy who cannot swim as far and as fast as he can.
“I am also Godfather to his own lad, Ian. We had hoped our boys would grow up together, too, but – ”
He stopped, his face darkening.
“Well, never mind all of that. Come and meet him and his wife, Heather. I am certain they will be delighted to see you.”
The two riders trotted through the village and Viola noticed that the men and women acknowledged the Duke, but there was no servility in their bearing.
She was very impressed – she had visited too many estates where the staff and tenants seemed almost in fear of their Master and landlord.
The end of a long line of terraced cottages was the Duke’s destination.
As they reined to a halt outside, Viola was full of admiration for the glowing window boxes full of flowers.
“Fergus! Heather! Ahoy inside.”
The dark blue door opened and the redheaded man strode out, who she had last seen rowing her and David to safety through the storm.
A wide smile creased his tanned face.
The Duke dismounted, tossed the reins over a post and then helped Viola down.
“Fergus, let me introduce Lady Viola Northcombe. Viola, this is Fergus Lyall.”
“Thank you so much for rescuing us!” cried Viola, shaking the hard hand held out to her. “You were so brave, Fergus, to tackle that raging sea.”
“Och, think nothing of it, my Lady. I was only too happy to help out. Heather! Come quickly, lass, the Duke and a guest are here. Do forgive my wife, my Lady. She is just putting our wee boy down to sleep.”
The door of the cottage opened again and a fresh complexioned, pretty young woman with bright brown hair came out, a shawl pinned closely round her shoulders.
Viola held out her hand and then was hardly aware of the introductions being made.
She could not take her eyes away from the brooch that was pinning the Scottish girl’s shawl.
But Viola knew better.
The very last time she had seen this huge cluster of diamonds, it had been pinned prominently on the front of Mrs. Van Ashton’s evening gown!
CHAPTER FIVE
Lady Margaret ran up the circular stone stairway leading from the Great Hall of the Castle, hurried along the corridor and knocked on David’s door.
“Come in, Meg!”
She entered the room and smiled in surprise at the sight of David sitting in a large chair by the open window.
He was still looking somewhat thin and pale, but his eyes were bright and he was smiling cheerfully.
“How did you know it was me, David?”
His smile deepened.
“Everyone taps on the door in a different way. My sister raps on it with two sharp knocks, Mrs. Livesey and the maids are very tentative. Your brother gives three equal taps and yours, Meg – ”
“Yes?”
“Yours are a series of little noises. As if a small bird was asking to be let in!”
Meg chuckled.
“What utter nonsense you talk! Obviously, David, you are feeling much better?”
David patted the wide casement seat opposite him and Meg sat down, smoothing the creases from her green skirt and wishing that it did no look quite so shabby in the bright sunlight that flooded into the room.
“Yes, indeed. Thanks to you and all the wonderful care your staff have given me, I hope to venture downstairs tomorrow. I would have liked to have joined you for dinner tonight, but Mrs. Livesey just turned several shades of puce when I mentioned it!”
“Dear Dorcas Livesey. I have known her all my life. I admit I used to be scared of her when I was small, but I know better now. She seems such a dragon, but under that stern exterior beats a very soft heart.”
David nodded.
“She has been kindness itself to me and I think my recovery would have been very slow without her nursing skills. Although I seem to have eaten more porridge in the last couple of days than ever before in my whole life!”
Lady Margaret gazed through the open window.
The room looked out towards the distant mountains, majestic and covered with heather and, unconsciously, she sighed at the sight of them.
David frowned.
“You don’t seem your usual cheerful self, Meg. Is there a problem? Is it causing difficulties, my sister and I being here in the Castle?”
She turned to him, her great dark eyes anxious.
“No, no! Please, never think that! I am delighted you are both here. You have no idea how wonderful it is, David, to talk to someone of my own age who has visited foreign countries, travelled across the sea and seen things I will never see.”
“I have only travelled to America and once there I stayed in New York. I never got to see Niagara Falls or the Grand Canyon or any of the other wonderful sights. And all I saw of the voyage home was the inside of my cabin! Admittedly, I long to journey around the world, but – ”
“Like me, you don’t have enough money for such a trip!” Lady Margaret interrupted. “Oh, I know exactly how you feel. Sometimes when I look out at the mountains and instead of seeing their beauty, I see them all as a line of gaolers, keeping me here in this Castle prison!”
David scowled to himself.
How easy it would be to say that he had plenty of money now. That he could afford to go round the world twice and not notice the difference to his bank balance.
But he made a promise to Viola that he would keep quiet about the fortune they had inherited from their father.
Now he was wishing with all his heart that he had not made such a commitment to his sister.
“Do you feel so very isolated here in Glentorran?” he asked quietly.
She played with a piece of thread that was hanging from the worn edge of her sleeve.
“Oh, please don’t get the wrong impression, David! I love my brother and Glentorran. But – I long to travel!
“I have been to Glasgow, Edinburgh and London. Three big cities. But I don’t like busy places. I want to see deserts and oceans and the vast open plains of Africa! And I know that I never will.
“There is a whole exciting and different world out there and I am passionate to experience it all.”
David reached over and caught her hands in his.
He snapped off the loose thread and twined it round his finger.
“I sympathise, Meg. I really do. Viola has always wanted to live in England, to have a house in the country and create a wonderful garden. She loves dogs and horses and all sorts of country pursuits.
“But, although we are twins, I am not that keen on the energetic outdoor life she likes so much. Just give me a sketchbook, a small box of watercolours and a marvellous view and I will be a happy man.
“But most of all, I, too, would like to travel. I think I am very like my father in that desire. He could never stay in one place for long.
“I, just like you, ache to see the Arabian deserts, the Sahara, the jungles of Borneo and the unusual animals and beautiful flowers of the South Sea Islands.”
“Robert told me a little about your family history,” sighed Lady Margaret. “All four of us are victims of our fathers’ careless behaviour, so it seems.”
David did not reply.
He twined the thread even tighter, hardly noticing the pain as it viciously cut into his skin.
How could he agree with this wonderful girl?
What she had said would have been true a year ago when they first met at Charlotte Brent’s birthday ball in London.
Then he had just been David, the Viscount Powell, without a care in the world or a penny to his name.
But now he was the Earl of Northcombe, the very rich Earl of Northcombe!
He now owned oil fields and all sorts of companies in the United States. He had to instruct his partner, Lewis Wilder, and discharge his many responsibilities.
Once he was fully recovered and they were back in London, he knew he would have to plunge into a world of finance that he knew nothing about and cared nothing for.
“Perhaps things will change one day?” he ventured, but she just laughed.
“Aye, perhaps we will all come into a fortune! An old gypsy woman came into the Castle last Christmas and told me I would marry a very rich man. I asked her where he was, but all she would say was that he lived across the water! But, as far as I know, there are no such candidates living in the Hebrides seeking my hand in marriage!”
David chuckled.
“And what did she tell your brother?”
Lady Margaret’s laugh rang out again.
“Och, Robert was most put out. She told him he would have his heart broken by a man from over the seas! As Robert said, he wouldn’t mind if it was a woman who broke his heart, but he could not see himself getting that upset by anything a man told him!”
David decided to change the subject.
“Tell me, Meg. I noticed that Viola was strangely quiet this morning when she came to visit me. It was most unlike her.
“I asked her if she had enjoyed her ride with your brother yesterday and she assured me that she indeed had. Did you notice anything untoward regarding her behaviour at dinner last night?”
Meg looked concerned.
“Now you mention it, your sister did indeed seem a little quiet. Almost as if she had something on her mind that was worrying her.
“Robert was called out during the meal – a problem somewhere on the estate needed his immediate attention. Viola refused coffee and retired early. Perhaps it is just a reaction to the last few hectic days. After all, David, you were both shipwrecked only the other day!”
The young Earl laughed and agreed with her, but he could not get his twin’s serious face out of his mind.
They had always been very close and he knew that something had upset his sister and wonde
red if she would tell him about it.
In the meantime he could only hope that it would not cause any problems during the remainder of their stay here at Glentorran Castle.
*
Viola had breakfasted in her room and once she had finished, she pulled on the warm tweed jacket that Meg had provided for her, paid a brief visit to David to check on his progress and then hurried outside into the rambling Castle grounds.
There had been no sign of the Duke or his sister at breakfast, but a maid she met as she crossed the Great Hall informed her that the Duke had been away from home by six o’clock that morning.
It was a fine warm day and the air tasted like wine. A light breeze was blowing in from the sea and little clouds scudded overhead.
Viola had hardly slept all night.
She had tossed and turned restlessly, seeing in front of her eyes the diamond brooch pinned to Heather Lyall’s shawl – the brooch that had belonged to Mrs. Van Ashton who had worn it so often on their trip across the Atlantic.
‘There is no way that piece of jewellery could have survived the shipwreck,’ Viola murmured to herself as she wandered through the overgrown shrubberies.
‘Even if Mrs. Van Ashton had been wearing it – and I am certain she was not – then it would have sunk to the floor of the ocean if it fell from her bodice.
‘One of the fishermen must have taken it from the wreck. But why would they give it to Fergus? Is he their chief? And if that is so, was he behind the ship’s tragic end? Is Captain Howard right? Were wreckers the cause of the yacht smashing into the rocks?’
She then caught her hand on a bunch of nettles and grunted.
Apparently dangers were lurking even in this quiet deserted garden!
‘But Fergus is the Duke’s special boyhood friend! So how could I possibly accuse him of such treachery?’ her thoughts rambled on miserably.
She was just beginning to realise that her feelings for the Duke were growing day by day.
Although she could see no future for them because of the horrid way fate had turned her from a poor girl into a very rich one, she knew that hurting him was something she could never do.
And she recognised by the light-hearted way he had spoken to Fergus and Heather Lyall and by the way he had asked after their little boy, his Godson, that these fisherfolk meant a great deal to him.
A Castle of Dreams Page 6