A Castle of Dreams (14 page)

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.”

Viola shook her head vigorously.

All she wanted was to be as far away as possible from the Castle, before the Duke appeared again and she had to see the cold condemnation on his face.

“It's only water.  I won't melt.  Goodness, remember how wet we got when the ship sank?  I'll run all the way!  If there's any lightning, I promise I will take shelter, don't worry.  There is no way I can come to harm between here and the village.”

David watched as she vanished down the driveway leading to the cliff path and then he climbed the steep stone steps up to the front door of the Castle.

Robert, the Duke of Glentorran, was an angry man – angry with Viola, but really furious with himself.

He had kissed the girl against her will!

That was the mark of a cad, a rotter, a man whom decent Society should shun.

Whistling up his dogs he stormed out of the Castle, headed across the gardens and out onto the moors.

Oblivious of the rain that was now falling heavily, he strode on through the heather, slashing with his stick at the odd thistle and bramble that dared to snag his kilt as he passed.

Yes
, he had kissed her, but she deserved it!

He loved her so much and she had played with his affections, made a fool of him and hurt him so badly that he did not think he could ever recover.

He suddenly recalled the old gypsy who had visited the Castle one Christmas, telling fortunes to him, Meg and their guests.

She had told him he would have his heart broken by a man from across the water.

He had laughed at the time, paying the old woman her fee, but privately thinking to himself what rubbish this fortune-telling seemed.

But now –

The Duke pushed his wet hair out of his eyes and stared through the veils of rain towards the tumultuous sea.

Well, she had been right!

When that American, Lewis Wilder, had told him last night about the fortune that Viola and her brother now owned, he had felt his heart break into a thousand pieces.

He had been about to propose marriage to her, but how could he now ask for her hand in marriage?

The world would believe that he was an adventurer, a man who was prepared to live off his wife's money.

And Society would never believe that he had fallen in love with a beautiful young girl who he had thought was penniless – like him.

No, they would all snigger and point behind their hands and he would find it difficult to hold his head up in company again.

He was far too proud to even contemplate such a situation for one single moment.

If
only
he did not love Viola so much!

Everything about her was perfection to him.

Her smile, her sense of humour, the way she was so interested in everything she saw round her, the long golden hair and such brilliant blue eyes, her ability to understand and sympathise with people from all walks of life.

Yes, she was his perfect woman and just when he thought she was within his reach, he realised that it had all been just a game to her.

Surely she could have told him of her change in circumstances as soon as they had met.

Would that not have been the natural and kind thing to do?

Sighing, he whistled to the dogs that were happily sniffing for rabbits in the wet heather and turned back to the Castle.

He stared down at that wonderful building – even half hidden by mist, he could see all the magnificent turrets and spires.

This was his heritage and he wondered bitterly how long he could keep the wolf from the door.

The Duke's expression was grim.

‘I should have gone ahead and asked Viola to marry me,' he mused.  ‘That is just what most men in my position would have done and be damned to any gossip.  I used to say I would do anything to save Glentorran – but that is a step too far.'

A sudden crack of thunder made him recognise that the big storm that had been brewing all morning had finally reached Glentorran.

The skies had darkened to a purple hue and the sea was grey and angry-looking, covered with white crests as the wind tossed the waves around.

With a face as black as the storm, the Duke turned and strode back down the slope towards the Castle.

He was very sure that Viola and her brother would soon leave Glentorran.

He knew that his sister would be upset, but for now he could not worry about that.

“The sooner they leave here the better,” he snapped at his astonished dogs.

“
Wretched girl
!”

He stamped into the Great Hall, dripping water all over the black and white tiles.

Mrs. Livesey hurried to meet him.

“Och, Your Grace.  It's soaked through you are!”

The Duke shrugged away her concern.

“Just a little water, Mrs. Livesey.  Don't fuss!  Can you inform Lady Viola that I would like to speak to her in the study immediately, please.”

Mrs. Livesey frowned.

“Lady Viola is away to the village, Your Grace.”

He stared at her.

“What?  When did she go?”

“I – I am not sure, Your Grace.”

“Did she ride or take the pony cart?”

Mrs. Livesey shook her head.

“No, I believe she walked, Your Grace.”

The Duke now swung round and headed back to the great studded entrance door.

He flung it open and stared out at the driving rain.

Flashes of lightning forked through the sky whilst thunder rolled and crashed overhead.

A feeling of dread ran through his body.

Suddenly it did not seem to matter that Viola had not told him the truth about her fortune.

All that mattered was that the woman he loved so passionately was out there alone in that tempest.

Without another word he ordered his dogs to stay, then plunged out of the door and headed at full speed down the drive, across the grounds towards the cliff path leading to Glentorran village.

*

The storm driving in from the West was still several miles away over the mountains when Viola reached the outskirts of Glentorran village.

She glanced up at the threatening sky, but she was so miserable that the dark clouds made no difference to her.

She resolutely refused to turn around and gaze back up the hill to where the Castle stood, its spires and turrets reaching for the sky.

No, that was a place she no longer had any right to look at or love.

That was Robert's home, his
Castle of Dreams
and nothing to do with her.

All she wanted was to reach
The Glentorran Inn
, find Lewis Wilder and arrange her journey to London.

And she would be on her own, because David was determined to stay here in Scotland and fight for Meg, the girl he loved.

Viola felt more tears burning her eyes and brushed them away.

This was all her fault.

She should have told Robert the truth straight away instead of wanting the luxury of his friendship for just one more day.

As she rounded the final corner, she stopped.

Heather Lyall, Fergus's wife, was standing by the side of the road, a large wicker basket at her feet.

“Heather!  Good morning.”

The Scottish girl dropped a small bob curtsy.

“Lady Viola!  Whatever are you doin' out in this weather? Och, you'll be soaked through.  This drizzle will become a fearful storm very soon.”

Viola laughed shakily.

“I certainly won't melt away!  And I intend to be indoors very soon.  But what about you?”

Heather pulled her plaid over her head to keep the rain from her hair.

“I'm here waitin' for the local omnibus.  One runs every week through Glentorran.  It's market day today in Corraig, our local town.  I'm in need of several things our shops in the village can't supply.”

Viola nodded.

“And is Fergus looking after Ian?”

Heather laughed out loud.

“Och no.  Fergus has gone to anchor his boat further out into the harbour in deeper water where it will be safer when the storm arrives. My mother is looking after wee Ian.”

She sighed, the happiness draining from her pretty face, as she continued,

“Our boat is gettin' old – it belonged to Fergus's father and has been repaired so many times that it's hardly seaworthy now.  I'm always terrified it will founder one day when he's out at sea.

“That is why he hasn't gone out fishin' today.  The boat needs a new rudder badly and Fergus cannot fish until it's fitted.”

“And there is no money for a new boat?”

Heather shook her head.

“No indeed.  We make just enough from the fish to live on, but a new boat costs a fortune and that we don't have!”

Viola hesitated.

She could see so clearly the great diamond brooch pinned into Heather's plaid.

Surely if Fergus had stolen it from the Van Ashtons then he would realise its value and not give it to his wife to wear?

Suddenly Viola made up her mind.

Not speaking out when she should have done had caused her so much grief recently. She was not going to let this opportunity slip past.

“Heather – I do hope you will not be offended by my question, but – ”

The Scottish girl looked puzzled.

“Och, ask what you like, Lady Viola.”

“That brooch you are wearing – ”

Heather's pretty face broke into a wide smile.  

“I can guess what you are goin' to say!”

“Can you?”

Viola was startled.

“Aye.  I told you that Fergus had bought the brooch from a pedlar, didn't I?  Well, I was wrong.  He let slip the other night that he didn't even have enough money to buy me a wee present, but he still wanted me to believe he had.  Silly man!  As if it would bother me when things are so difficult with the fishin'!”

Viola frowned.

“So you know where the brooch came from?”

“Och, yes.  It was a gift from that American lady, Mrs. Van Ashton, for helpin' to save her and her husband from the ship that dreadful night.  He didn't tell me at first because he thought I would be cross that he had received a gift because, of course, you don't expect recompense for savin' lives.”

Viola felt a wave of pure relief wash over her.

A
gift
!

Why had she never thought of that?

Heather looked concerned.

“You're not to worry, Lady Viola.  It's only a silly trifle made of paste.  And look – here comes the omnibus.  I'll be glad to get in out of the rain.”

And she waved down the bus which came chugging around a bend, full of women on their way to market, black smoke billowing from its exhaust.

Before Viola could speak, Heather nimbly jumped on board and, as the rain began to fall more heavily, the omnibus rattled and groaned its way along the road up the hill and out of sight.

Viola found herself smiling to herself, despite her breaking heart.

She knew that she would have to send a message to Fergus and Heather before she left Glentorran.

If they sold that brooch, there would be plenty of money for a new boat!

‘Well, that at least is one good thing I can do for Glentorran,' she thought as she pulled up the collar of her jacket more tightly around her neck.

The rain was driving in now on the wind and Viola turned her steps towards
The Glentorran Arms
.

She now had to find Lewis Wilder and arrange her transport away from this magical place and away from the man who so obviously despised her.

*

Back in the Castle, David was sitting in the library, moodily glancing through his sketchbook.

Outside thunder rumbled closer and closer and the windows rattled loudly in their frames as the storm began to gather strength.

He hoped Viola had reached
The Glentorran Arms
safely.  But he was sure that she would be fine as she had had plenty of time to get indoors out of the storm.

David knew that he should be upstairs packing, because it was obvious that he could not stay in the Castle once his twin sister had left.

‘Oh, darling Meg, how am I ever going to win you as my wife?' he mused wistfully.

‘If I was to give away every penny I own, would that help?  Would your brother let you marry me if I could not even afford to put a roof over your head?  I think
not
!'

But he was still determined not to give in.

He had already worked out his plan of campaign.

He would sell the majority of his shares in the oil company – either to Lewis Wilder or to someone else.

He was quite certain there would be no scarcity of buyers.