A Castle of Dreams (12 page)

‘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 breezes 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!”

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 never 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.

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.