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A Castle of Dreams

Page 9

by Barbara Cartland


  “Oh, yes, David. Yes!”

  Tenderly he bent his head to kiss her again, then he realised she was pulling away from him.

  “This is nonsense! How can we marry? You are in no position to take on a wife and I have no dowry to bring you.”

  David pulled her back into his arms and tightened his hold on her slim form.

  “Listen to me, Meg,” he replied. “Don’t despair. Everything will be all right, I do promise you. Believe me, come tomorrow night, I will be able to tell you something that will lighten your heart completely and mean that we will always be together!”

  *

  At the ceilidh the tune from the fiddle ceased with a loud flourish of notes, the dancers laughed and clapped and made their way to the side of the barn where refreshments had been laid out on long trestle tables.

  The Duke handed Viola a large glass of homemade lemonade, smiling at her flushed cheeks and tousled hair.

  “You see, the dances are not that difficult, although I think perhaps they are a little rowdy for the select London ballrooms!”

  Viola looked up at him, mischief in her eyes.

  “I recall us dancing at just such a ball! You were certainly far less energetic than you are tonight!”

  “But that was because I was hypnotised by a pair of brilliant bright blue eyes and could hardly remember how to waltz. Indeed I can hardly bear to take my eyes from you ever again!”

  Viola caught her breath as she found herself staring up into dark eyes that burnt with a passion she had always longed to see.

  Ever since she was old enough to consider falling in love, she had wanted a man to look at her in the way that Robert, the Duke of Glentorran, was doing now.

  There was no need for words.

  Everything he felt for her was there in his eyes and she knew that he could read her feelings in her face just as easily.

  The Duke tore his gaze from the beautiful sight in front of him and glanced round the hot crowded barn.

  He realised that they were at the centre of attention and at that moment he craved for a quiet lonely spot where he could tell Viola exactly how he felt about her.

  He took the glass of lemonade from her and placed it on a nearby table.

  “Please walk with me down to the harbour side,” he murmured. “I want to speak to you and what I have to say is for you and you alone to hear.”

  Drawing her arm through his he turned to the door.

  Just at that moment one of the fishermen came up and touched his forehead in salute.

  He muttered a request to the Duke, who frowned in exasperation, then turned to Viola and muttered,

  “Dear girl, will you excuse me for a minute or two. Apparently a stupid dispute has broken out between two families over the naming of a new boat!

  “They are quite capable of coming to a decision by fisticuffs. My wise advice might make for a more peaceful atmosphere here tomorrow morning and a reduction in cut lips and black eyes!”

  Viola tried not to feel bitterly disappointed.

  She realised that he was the type of man for whom duty would always come before his own desires and it was one of the reasons she loved him so much.

  “Of course. I quite understand. Perhaps it will be best if you choose the name instead.”

  The Duke squeezed her hand.

  “Then I will just insist they name the boat The Lady Viola,” he answered her with a broad smile that brought the colour to her cheeks again.

  “Wait here for me, dear Viola. I shall not be long. I promise.”

  She watched him stride out of the barn.

  He looked so wonderful.

  Tall and athletic, the kilt swinging as he walked.

  She turned back to the table and discovered Heather Lyall standing there serving huge slices of shortbread and hot pies to the hungry dancers.

  Viola’s gaze flashed over to the plaid Heather wore across her pale grey dancing dress.

  And yes!

  There, gleaming amongst the greens and blues, was the big diamond brooch that belonged to Mrs. Van Ashton.

  How long ago it seemed now that she had seen that same brooch worn by her loud-voiced, good-hearted American hostess on board that ill-fated ship, the Stars and Stripes.

  Viola bit her lip and decided that she had no choice but to speak.

  She reckoned she might be doing the wrong thing, but if the Lyall family were involved in wrecking ships that strayed too close to the coast, then she had no option but to act.

  She could not have lived with herself if a life was lost because of her inaction.

  “I hope you are you enjoyin’ yourself, my Lady?” Heather asked her cheerfully. “It’s bonny to see you here at our ceilidh. And it is so fine to watch our Lord Robert enjoying himself so much. He has seemed so worried and sad recently.

  “May I take the liberty of asking you, how is your brother? Has he recovered from his illness?”

  “David is nearly back to full health, thank you.”

  “Och, that is good news. Fergus feared he was lost to you. He looked very pale and ill when he was rescued from that wreck. But now I can tell him that all is well.”

  “Is your husband not with us tonight?” Viola asked, glancing around, trying to spot the fisherman’s bright red hair in the throng of villagers.

  Heather shook her head.

  “No, my Lady. It’s a grand night for fishin’ – overcast and no moon. He went out a couple of hours ago. My mother is looking after our bairn and so I can come and enjoy myself for a few wee hours.”

  She turned to serve a slice of shortbread to another hungry dancer.

  Viola stood there, undecided as to what she should do next and was about to leave when Heather turned to her once more.

  “Can I tempt you to a slice of shortbread, my Lady? I made it myself.”

  Viola shook her head.

  “No, thank you. But it looks very good, Heather – I may call you Heather, I trust – I was wondering – ”

  She took a deep breath,

  “I could not but help notice that lovely brooch you are wearing.”

  Heather blushed deeply and ran her fingers over the glittering stones.

  “Och, I do know to a lady such as yourself, it seems perhaps a cheap nonsense, but it was a wee gift from my Fergus and so it is very dear to me.”

  She lowered her voice so no one else could hear.

  “The fishing has been very poorly lately, my Lady, and there’s been no money for fripperies. He must have been saving up the odd pennies here and there to buy this fairing from the travelling peddler who calls every year.”

  Viola bit her lip again.

  That brooch was certainly no fairing, so Fergus had lied to Heather.

  He had stolen it from the wreck, from the luggage swept up onto the beach during the storm.

  But should she make this fact common knowledge?

  What would happen to Fergus?

  Would he be charged with stealing and imprisoned?

  Oh, that would be terrible. What would happen to his wife and child if that happened?

  But on the other hand this fabulous diamond brooch could not stay here in the Glentorran fishing village.

  It was worth a great deal of money and it must be returned to Mrs. Van Ashton, its rightful owner.

  ‘But even if Fergus did find the brooch, all he is guilty of is not handing it over to the authorities. It doesn’t prove that he and the other fishermen are wreckers! Surely that is just Captain Howard’s guilty conscience speaking.’

  She turned away, heading for the door to the barn, her mind in turmoil.

  In the course of a few seconds she had gone from the heights of happiness to the depths of despair.

  She loved the Duke, but not only was she living a lie under his roof by not telling him about her vast fortune, she could be the very one to shatter his faith and trust in his boyhood friend.

  Outside the barn the rain had cleared away leaving a fresh night with cool breeze
s sweeping down from the mountains.

  Viola shivered.

  Her warm wrap was still inside, but she had no great desire to go back for it.

  She gazed up at the stars that seemed to shine far more brightly in these Northern climes than they did down in London.

  She was beginning to love Scotland so very much and knew it would break her heart to leave Glentorran.

  But leave it she must.

  Viola could hear raised voices some way away and guessed that it was where the Duke was making a decision about a name for the new fishing boat.

  Suddenly, she realised that she could not wait for him and could not let him talk to her about those feelings she had seen so clearly on his face.

  For once those words had been spoken, once he had declared his liking for her, she knew everything would then become more and more complicated.

  No, tonight was not the time for confessions of that sort – from either of them.

  Tomorrow morning, first thing, she would ask for a private interview and tell him the whole story of what had happened to her and David since the Duke had first met them in London.

  Then it would be up to him what happened next, although, with a sinking heart, Viola was fairly sure of his reaction.

  The Duke was indeed a proud man and he would surely see her reluctance to tell him the facts as some kind of betrayal.

  But that could not be helped, Viola determined.

  She did owe him the full truth before he made any declaration to her, because he was an honourable man and would feel he had to keep any promise he made.

  And how could he possibly do so if the woman he had chosen turned out to be false?

  She walked swiftly away from the barn to where the grey pony was tethered.

  The small boy appeared as by magic.

  “Will you be wantin’ me to fetch the Duke for you, my Lady?” he piped up as she scrambled into the cart and reached for the reins.

  “No! There will be no need to disturb him. When he is free, will you please tell him that Lady Viola felt very tired and returned to the Castle. I’m sure he will not mind walking back up the hill.”

  “Shall I drive you, my Lady?”

  The urchin looked concerned as Viola flapped the reins and urged Bolster forwards.

  “Yon beast has a mind of its own!”

  As unhappy as she was, Viola had to smile.

  The child was tiny, but still had that genuine desire to help that she had noticed in all the Highland people she had met.

  “No, thank you,” she said gently. “I will be quite all right. I think the pony will know that he is heading for his stable! He’ll be quite amenable as long as I keep his head pointed towards the Castle.”

  She soon left the fishing village behind her and, as she had supposed, Bolster now quickened his step as they climbed the path up to the Castle gates.

  As the pony cart reached the front door, Viola was surprised to see so many lights on in different rooms.

  It was late and she had imagined that her brother and Meg would have retired for the night.

  A cold chill ran through her – could it be that David had had a relapse of his illness? Had the fever come back?

  As she jumped down from the cart, Stuart appeared from the shadows to hold the pony’s head.

  “A visitor indoors for you, my Lady,” he said, his accent sounding extremely broad and Viola had the oddest impression that he did not care for the newcomer, whoever it was.

  “For me?”

  “Aye. Arrived a couple of hours back. I do believe Mrs. Livesey was asked to provide a cooked meal for him. The kitchen was none too happy, I can tell you, him eatin’ all the chicken that was for the Duke’s lunch tomorrow.”

  Viola closed her ears to the servant’s gossip, as she had learned to do since she was a child.

  Puzzled, she hoisted her skirts and ran up the wide stone steps into the Castle.

  All she could imagine was that the visitor was from London. Perhaps sent by her cousin, Edith Matthews, to make certain that she and David were as safe and well as she had said in her letter.

  *

  Half an hour later, the Duke ran up the same steps, his tread light and eager.

  He could not wait to see Viola once more.

  In his hands he held the wrap she had left behind in the barn.

  He was smiling, as he would have liked to have seen her driving the fat grey pony back to the Castle and proud that she was independent enough to do so on her own.

  Mrs. Livesey was in the hall, but he brushed past her just as she was about to speak and strode into the drawing room.

  Then he stopped in surprise.

  All he could now see was a stranger standing by the fireplace, holding Viola’s hands in his.

  A tall thickset gentleman wearing a loud checked suit that immediately marked him out as a foreigner.

  “Good evening, my Lord!”

  The accent was broad American.

  “I’m sorry to have arrived so late, but I was anxious to catch up with Lady Viola. I only heard where she was recently.”

  “Sir? You have the advantage of me.”

  Viola pulled her hands away from the man’s grasp and turned a pale expressionless face towards the Duke.

  “Your Grace, may I introduce Mr. Lewis Wilder. Mr. Wilder is an American businessman who helped David and me when we were in America.”

  Lewis Wilder laughed loudly.

  “Businessman? That’s sure a quaint way of putting it, honey.”

  The Duke frowned at him and the wrap he was still holding in his hands was twisted violently.

  How dare this man call Viola ‘honey’.

  “I’m an equal partner with Lady Viola and the Earl of Northcombe,” Lewis went on, apparently unconcerned that his outstretched hand was being ignored by the Duke.

  “I was unaware that you had ongoing business in the States, Viola,” stated the Duke, obviously puzzled. “Is it something connected to your late father?”

  “Exactly! Why, that late Earl was sure a lucky guy, all right. Lady Viola and her brother are two of the richest young people in England at this very minute!”

  He shot a swift glance at the Duke’s white face and added with a sneer,

  “A fact, I’m sure that you are well aware of, your Lordship!”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Dark clouds hung over Glentorran Castle the next morning.

  In the murky distance over the mountains, thunder rumbled and an occasional flash of lightning split the sky.

  The air was heavy with anticipation of the rain that must surely come before the day was out.

  Viola sat at her casement window, gazing out over the neglected Castle grounds.

  But she did not see the weeds, overgrown bushes and clumps of thistles and brambles.

  No – all she could see was the look of betrayal that had crossed the Duke’s face before his training and years of authority had taken over and a shield of blank politeness covered his features.

  He had spoken politely to Lewis Wilder, enquiring after his journey, making sure that he was comfortable at the inn in the village.

  Then he had bid them both goodnight and for the first time since they had met his gaze would not meet hers.

  In vain she had tried to look into his wonderful dark eyes, to convey to him that she was sorry, desperately sorry for not telling him the truth.

  But it was impossible.

  The Duke looked over her shoulder at some distant point, bowed politely to them both and left the room.

  Only Viola would have recognised the heaviness of his tread and the slightest bend of his head, just as if all the troubles of the world were now sitting on his shoulders.

  “That guy sure doesn’t seem too happy with his lot in life,” Lewis Wilder had commented.

  “He has a lot on his mind,” Viola had replied.

  “Well, I expect you’ll be mighty glad to be out of here and back home in London, Lady Viola. You’ll neve
r know how grateful I was to hear that you and your brother were safe.”

  He gave her a warm smile, too warm by a long way for Viola’s liking.

  She recalled at once the way he had flirted with her in America – the last thing she needed was a complication like that here in Scotland!

  Lewis Wilder had taken two steps towards her, then seeing her blank expression changed his mind.

  “Now I know you’re both okay, we can get down to our business again. There are many decisions to be taken regarding the oil fields in Texas.”

  Viola had pretended to listen, but all she could think about was the Duke and the way he had not looked at her.

  “So, I will be heading for London tomorrow night,” Lewis Wilder had then said. “I’ve just hired a motorcar to drive me to Glasgow so I can board the train the following morning. You and David are welcome to come with me.”

  Viola had murmured that she would have to see if David was well enough to undertake such a long journey, although she knew in her heart of hearts that he was indeed fit to travel.

  Just as Lewis Wilder was leaving, he had turned to Viola and said,

  “By the way, Lady Viola, there was one weird tale Captain Howard had to tell. All about wreckers bringing the ship ashore onto treacherous rocks.”

  “It was just a silly piece of gossip,” she replied. “I believe that the Captain’s crew were at fault for losing the boat and so they made up the story to cheat the insurance company.”

  The American had by now shrugged on his overcoat.

  “No smoke without fire, they say. When you need money as desperately as that Dook needs it, then I reckon getting a cut-back from a gang of thieves would be very useful!”

  Viola had stared at him in horror.

  “Sir, that is an appalling thing to say. The Duke of Glentorran is the most honourable man I have ever met!”

  Lewis Wilder sneered.

  “If you say so, Viola. If you say so. Setting his cap at a young girl with as much money as you have might be considered a clever piece of work by many people!

  “In my opinion you’ll soon discover that the only way to avoid a lot of talk is for you to marry someone as rich as you are yourself! Well, I’ll say goodnight to you. Let me know in the morning about travelling South.”

  After he had finally left, Viola had gone to bed, but she had not slept.

 

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