A Castle of Dreams

by Barbara Cartland

  She had taken off Meg’s dress and then pulled on her riding habit.

  She wanted for nothing more than to get out of the Castle and walk away her troubles.

  But that was impossible in the middle of the night, of course, and so she sat on the casement seat, waiting for dawn, rehearsing over and over what she would say to the Duke when they next met.

  *

  As the black and stormy day finally dawned, Viola made her way down the staircase and into the Great Hall.

  Jenny, the little housemaid, was busy washing the stone floor and she bobbed a curtsy as Viola passed.

  “Looked like a wee ghostie!” she later told the cook in the kitchen. “Pale as a sheet and no a word to me. But she wasna bein’ rude, you ken. She just didna see me, she was that distracted.”

  Viola guessed exactly where the Duke might be and she was right.

  A sliver of light was shining under the door of the small room he used as an office, situated at the back of the ground floor of the Castle.

  She knew that this was where he undertook all his estate business, so that crofters and fishermen could walk in from outside without having to worry about trailing dirt and fish-scales up the stairs into the big library.

  Viola stood stock still for a few moments outside the door, her hand raised, but unable to knock.

  She realised that this was the end of all her dreams.

  The next several minutes would seal her fate and within the week she would have left this wonderful Castle, left the man she loved and be back in the mad hurly-burly of London, living an arid desolate life.

  ‘But I have brought all this on my own head,’ she thought sadly. ‘The Duke is not to blame. I should have trusted him and told him the whole truth about the money from the very beginning.’

  Taking a long deep breath and summoning all her courage, she knocked hard on the door and heard the quiet “come in” from the man she loved so much.

  The Duke was sitting at his desk, his head on one hand.

  The curtains were still drawn against the new day as the oil lamp threw a gold light against his dark tousled hair.

  He looked up sharply as Viola entered the room and she almost gasped at the pain she saw etched on his face.

  She so hoped that he could see how much she was suffering as well.

  “Robert – !”

  Impulsively she reached out her hand towards him and then let it drop wearily to her side.

  “I would like to explain – ”

  “My dear Lady Viola, there is no need for any kind of explanation,” the Duke interrupted her. “I am delighted to hear of your good fortune and only so sorry that you and your brother found it necessary to play us for country fools for so long.”

  Viola groaned at his words.

  “Robert, my Lord, I never – we never – and please don’t blame David for this situation! He had wanted to tell Meg immediately, but I asked him to wait.”

  “So you could laugh at our expense – ?”

  He stood up, his face taut with anger, and he then strode round to Viola’s side of the desk.

  He reached out, his hands grasping her shoulders.

  “What did you intend, Lady Viola? To go back to London and tell all your friends about your latest conquest? To giggle at us and gossip about how poor we are here in Glentorran and how anyone would be foolish to lend us the money to repair the Castle!”

  “No!”

  Viola moaned, as his fingers were hurting the soft flesh of her upper arms.

  “How can you think such a thing of me, Robert? I was stupid, I know that now. But it was so hard to find a time to tell you about the money.”

  “What – all the moments we were alone together? Would it have been so very difficult to mention that you and your brother are millionaires?”

  Viola could now no longer hold back the tears that began to run down her cheeks.

  “I wanted to, oh, Robert, I wanted to. But I thought you would – would – ”

  How could she possibly finish ‘you would not love me because people would just think you were only after my money’?

  “It’s only money, Robert,” she mumbled miserably. “I am still the same person I was when you first met me at Charlotte’s ball.”

  “So when were you going to tell me?” the Duke demanded. “By God, Viola. I was going to propose to you last night! Would you have told me when the engagement was announced in The Times and I had become the object of universal censure and a figure of fun?”

  And in his fury he bent his head and kissed her on her lips, hard and angrily.

  Viola felt the world slipping away, then she realised that there was little love in his kiss – just despair.

  Sobbing, she pulled away, broke his grasp and fled from the room.

  ‘Oh, how can he be so cruel!’ she moaned, choking back the tears as she ran up the stairway to her room, her hand clasped across the lips he had bruised so easily.

  All she wanted now was to get away from here as fast as she could.

  But, first of all, she needed to speak to her brother, because he was as much involved in this problem as she was herself.

  She tapped urgently on David’s door, but there was no reply.

  Turning the handle she went in, but the room was empty and she could see that the sketchbook that was never more than inches from his hand was missing.

  She ran next door into her own room and sank onto the bed in despair. She could hardly think clearly for the whirl of emotions in her head.

  She and David must leave the Castle immediately!

  She would go to the village, find Lewis Wilder and tell him that they would be joining him on the long journey South.

  She glanced round the room.

  There was nothing of her own to pack, of course, as everything here belonged to Meg.

  She would have to send back what she was wearing once she arrived in London and could buy new clothes.

  Viola walked to the window and gazed out towards the distant mountains. The clouds were still lying in heavy folds over the jagged peaks and she could hear thunder in the distance.

  The wind was beginning to howl around the turrets of Glentorran Castle.

  A violent summer storm was on its way.

  This was the sort of day to stay indoors, reading by a roaring fire, eating buttered scones and crumpets.

  But even when Glentorran was wet and windy, she still loved every inch of it so much and it broke her heart to think she would never see it again.

  How she just longed to be here in the middle of the winter with thick snow lying on the slopes, log fires would burn in the vast grates and a huge Christmas tree would be standing proudly in the Great Hall.

  Even more than that, she longed to be here for the New Year’s celebrations.

  Hogmanay!

  The Duke had told her so many fascinating tales of what happened at that wonderful celebration on New Year’s Eve.

  Viola knew that wherever she was in the world in the future, once the clock had struck midnight and the New Year began, she would think of Glentorran Castle and the man she had loved and lost.

  She brushed away more tears.

  Well, there was one thing that she could do before she left.

  After she had spoken to Lewis, she would seek out Fergus Lyall and confront him about the diamond brooch his wife was wearing, the brooch that had belonged to Mrs. Van Ashton.

  For a brief moment she lingered on Lewis Wilder’s words.

  The Duke had told her that he would do anything to safeguard his estate.

  She could never believe that he could be personally involved in any crime, but would he turn a blind eye to his people making money in that way?

  Viola could remember so well all the silly schemes her late father had undertaken.

  Some of them had sailed very close to the wind.

  He, too, had been desperate for money and she had often wondered if occasionally he had stepped over the line between what was
legal and what was not.

  *

  David, the Earl of Northcombe, was sitting on his favourite seat looking out to sea.

  The collar of the jacket he had borrowed from the Duke, when he had been rescued from the sinking ship, was turned up against the wind that was bringing the heavy rain clouds across the moors from the distant mountains behind him.

  The wind had ruffled his hair into an unruly mass of tiny curls, but he was totally indifferent this morning to his appearance.

  His sketchbook, very nearly full now, was open at a blank page as he was trying desperately to capture the wild scene of waves crashing over the jagged rocks with black clouds hovering against the horizon.

  A soft touch on his shoulder made him turn.

  Meg was standing there, a plaid draped across her head.

  “David?”

  “Meg! What are you doing out in this foul weather? You’ll catch your death of cold.”

  Meg laughed.

  “Och, David, this is nothing to what we experience in the winter. Just a summer storm. It’ll be bad later this afternoon and then it will all blow over and tomorrow will be a fine day.”

  She sat on the bench next to him and leant across to inspect the sketchbook.

  “What a lot of drawings you have done since you arrived here. Och, I like this one of the Castle – and this – where is this? Oh, yes, it is the inside of our attics! It looks like an illustration from a book of ghost stories!”

  “I like the way all your old belongings have been piled up together over the centuries with plenty of cobwebs hanging everywhere. A good artist could have done more with the depth and contrast, but I like to sketch quickly – to catch the flavour of what I see at that second.”

  Meg continued to flick through the pages, smiling quietly as she found several pictures of herself and of her brother and Viola.

  “Oh, and here is more still life. I do so like them, David. Here are those old oil paintings and the vase from Egypt my ancestors brought to Scotland. The sketches are very good, David. You have such talent.”

  He hardly glanced at the page as he cast a nervous sideways glance at his dearest Meg.

  “I must admit I am rather surprised to discover you are talking to me this morning, Meg. I am sure you have heard the news that broke last night when Lewis Wilder arrived at the Castle.

  “The secret that Viola and I have kept is now out, but at least you know that I had already promised faithfully to tell you the truth today.”

  Meg nodded serenely.

  “I don’t really understand why Robert is so upset. So you and Viola are wealthy. That does not change you into different people. You are still David, who is a good artist and doesn’t like our Scottish haggis! How is a great deal of money going to change either of those things?”

  “We never wanted the money,” David said, taking one of her hands between his own. “I would willingly give it all away tomorrow if I thought that was the right thing to do.”

  “But David – think of all the good you can do with it!”

  “I know. Viola and I talked of nothing else on the voyage home from America.”

  Meg edged herself a little closer to him and sighed in satisfaction as his arm closed round her shoulders.

  “Meg – the money means one thing and one thing only to me. I can travel abroad now. Take my paints and just sail away.”

  He felt the slim body next to his quiver in distress.

  “I will miss you, David.”

  “But, Meg, I cannot go unless you come with me! Marry me, Meg. Please marry me. You just cannot let me travel out to the South Seas on my own!”

  He bent his head and kissed her.

  Meg’s arms crept round his neck and for an ecstatic moment she gave herself up to his embrace.

  Then, reluctantly, she pulled away, tears filling her eyes.

  “Oh, David. I love you so much. I would be very honoured to be your wife. I would be quite happy if we were as poor as church mice, if we had to live on coconuts and fish and live in a little grass hut on a tropical island! I would willingly travel to the other side of the world with you, but I can’t.”

  David went pale.

  His arms tightened round her, refusing to let her go.

  “Why, Meg? What can stop us? Surely you are not worried about what people will say?”

  She shook her head, the plaid slipping down around her shoulders.

  “No, I care nothing for public opinion, but David, how can I possibly leave Robert to carry the whole burden of Glentorran all by himself?”

  “But I have so much money now. You could give Robert enough to make a difference and – ”

  “Hush, my dear!”

  She placed slim fingers over his lips.

  “Robert would never dream of taking a penny from me, knowing that it had come from you. No, not even to save Glentorran!”

  Meg stood up, pulling the plaid over her dark hair to protect herself from the wind that was now bringing fine drizzle to the cliffs of Glentorran.

  David leapt to his feet, trying to hold her back.

  “Don’t go, Meg!”

  But she just shook her head, fighting back the tears that glistened in her dark eyes.

  “There is just no point in talking about it any more, David. I am Lady Margaret Glentorran and I know that if I betray my birthright and don’t stay to help my brother save the Castle, then I would never be truly happy again, even with you, the man I love!”

  And without another word, she turned and ran back up the winding path towards the Castle.

  *

  Viola pulled on her riding jacket and walked slowly down the stone steps and out of the Castle.

  She now needed to speak urgently to Lewis Wilder, because she had made a decision and needed to put it into action without a moment’s delay.

  The American had taken a room at the local village inn, The Glentorran Arms.

  When he had arrived at the Castle, he had explained to Viola that it was imperative that she and David return to London to attend to all the documents and decisions that needed their approval.

  Viola groaned.

  Yes, she tended to forget that she was no longer a carefree maiden with nothing to worry about except if she could afford to buy a new ball gown and mend the hole in her dancing shoes.

  Now she was the owner of a vast business empire with hundreds of employees whose livelihood depended on the decisions she and her brother made.

  She could no longer escape these responsibilities.

  This magical time in Scotland had come to an end.

  She crossed the neglected garden, the wind blowing branches across her path, long tendrils of unpruned roses reaching out to catch her sleeves and skirt.

  As she reached the wooden gate that led to the cliff path, she was startled as Meg rushed through it and hurried past her without a word, holding her plaid across her face.

  A few seconds later, David appeared, looking pale and upset, clutching his sketchbook.

  “Viola! Have you seen Meg?”

  “Yes, she just passed me. She seemed very upset. Have you two argued? Surely not.”

  David laughed, but it was not a happy sound, it was bitter and angry.

  “No, it wasn’t an argument. I want to marry Meg, but even though she has no problems with my fortune, she knows that Robert will never accept a penny from her if it comes from me. And she refuses to leave the Duke while he is having all these problems with the Castle.

  “I thought that inheriting a fortune would bring us nothing but happiness. How wrong I was!”

  Viola shuddered.

  “I fear the Glentorrans will be glad to see the back of us,” she said sadly.

  “Well, they will not have long to wait. I am heading to the village now to speak to Lewis Wilder and ask him to arrange for us to travel down to London with him when he leaves tonight. All the business he wishes to discuss with us can be done once we are safely back home with Cousin Edith.”

&n
bsp; “Tonight!”

  “Yes, David, the sooner we are away from here the better. Every time Robert looks at me with so much dislike and contempt, I – ”

  She stopped, a sob breaking from her throat.

  Her twin looked at her gravely and then declared,

  “Viola, I am not coming to London with you.”

  “Not coming?”

  David suddenly looked taller and older, very much an Earl of the Realm, all his youthful hesitancy gone.

  “Viola, whatever is between you and the Duke is your business. I shall not pry. But I love Meg and I know that once I leave here, I will never have the chance to prove to her how much I care.”

  “But the money will always come between you!”

  David nodded his head, as he abstractedly flicked through the sketchbook, staring down at the little drawings he had made of the girl he loved.

  “If I have to give it all away, then so be it! I will do everything in my power to win the woman I love.”

  “But you cannot stay here at the Castle? Where on earth will you live?”

  He smiled.

  “I am quite sure that I can find rooms in the village. I shall sketch and paint and sell my work to visitors. I shall not use a penny of my fortune and eventually my darling Meg will realise that I am never going to leave.”

  Viola sighed.

  She could not blame David for his decision.

  She knew that he passionately hated the thought of being a businessman. It would surely kill him to take on the responsibilities that she now faced.

  But oh, if only she could do the same, but she knew that was impossible.

  How could she contemplate living just a mile away from Robert, perhaps seeing him regularly in the village, watching him as he struggled with the estate and the Castle and being unable to help?

  It would be more than she could bear.

  She reached up and kissed David’s cheek.

  “Meg is a very lucky girl,” she whispered. “And I am certain it will not be long before she realises it.”

  She turned away.

  “Please tell Mrs. Livesey, David, that I will not be in for luncheon.”

  He glanced up in concern at the dark clouds racing across the sullen sky.

  “You are going to get wet, Viola! Wait just a few minutes until this squall has passed. I don’t like the look of the weather coming in from those mountains. Meg says these summer storms can be very intense.”