“Your good friend, Charlotte Brent, told me in no uncertain terms a day later that you and your brother are in the same circumstances as myself and Meg! Two brothers and sisters both fallen on hard times! She explained to me that you had even borrowed that expensive dress you were wearing as well as the fabulous sapphire necklace.”
He laughed suddenly.
“Why, if you had indeed owned that fabulous piece of jewellery, I might well be asking you for a loan instead of the bankers!”
Viola listened quietly to his words.
They had left the overgrown garden behind by now and were climbing the track that wound around the side of the hill, leading up towards the moors.
The wind was sweet and clean in her face and she could hear dozens of oystercatchers and curlews calling as they swooped over the heather.
The Scottish air tasted like wine.
Here at Glentorran was such a long way away from the glittering heated ballroom where they had first met.
She risked a sideways glance at the Duke, who was whistling for his dogs to come to heel.
Although everything had changed dramatically for her and David, his life remained the same, difficult and still full of problems.
How could she possibly tell him about their good fortune? That the Earl of Northcombe and his sister Viola were now fabulously rich?
And she could buy several sapphire necklaces if she so chose.
‘But you must tell him!’ she thought swiftly. ‘You cannot possibly live under his roof for a month under such false pretences. That would be – cheating.’
But as she was about to open her mouth to speak, the Duke caught her arm and spun her round.
“There! Isn’t that the most beautiful sight you have ever seen?”
Viola gulped in amazement.
They were high enough to look down on Glentorran Castle where it sat on its prominent headland, the deep blue sea behind it, the turrets and chimneys making it look like a picture from a child’s story book.
“It’s truly breathtaking. You must be extremely proud of it.”
The Duke ran his fingers through his tousled black hair.
“We are taught as children that pride is a bad thing. But I am proud of my country and my land. The Dukes of Glentorran have lived and worked here for centuries. I will do anything to keep the Castle and the estate intact for my heirs. Anything! It is my sacred duty.”
Viola caught her breath.
Suddenly she could recall Charlotte’s words, telling her that the Duke was hunting for a rich wife – that he had to marry money in order to save Glentorran.
Oh, she so wanted the Duke to like her for herself, for who she was, not for what she possessed.
And how would she ever know his true opinion of her if he once discovered that she was wealthy? She would never believe that he did not pay her attention because of her money and what it could buy.
They turned round and made their way back down the track – the Duke calling to the dogs, talking cheerfully of breakfast and wondering if her brother was awake and able to receive visitors.
Viola answered him automatically, her mind totally occupied elsewhere.
She had made her decision and it was too late now to go back on it.
She and David would have to stay here in Scotland for a month until he was well enough to travel.
Then they would leave and the Duke would never need to know about the fortune they had inherited.
She hastened her steps as they reached the Castle once more.
It was vital that she spoke to David before he met with the Duke.
Viola was certain that her twin had not been in any state the previous night to talk about their life in America, but at any moment he could disclose the truth.
And that was something she could not allow.
No, David must swear to her that he would tell no one about their fortune.
CHAPTER FOUR
Viola left her brother’s bedroom and hurried back into her own to tidy up her wind-tossed hair before making her way down the spiral stone stairway in search of a late breakfast.
David had been awake and luckily on his own when she entered his room.
Mrs. Livesey had been about to leave when Viola arrived, carrying a tray with the remains of a bowl of thin porridge and a plate of thinly cut bread and butter.
She told Viola that David had passed a good night and that his fever was not so intense this morning. He had eaten a little breakfast and, taking everything into account, there were good signs for his eventual recovery.
David had been fretful when Viola insisted that he should not tell anyone here at Glentorran Castle about their amazing change of circumstances in inheriting such a vast fortune from their father.
He could not understand why it was that she was so determined that the Duke did not discover they were now extremely wealthy.
“I don’t want to lie to anyone, especially Meg,” he insisted, his fingers plucking at the edge of the linen sheet. “I couldn’t do that, Viola.”
“I wouldn’t dream of asking you to lie,” she replied firmly, “but perhaps you could just not mention the subject of money at all! You must have hundreds of other things you can talk about with Meg. After all, it isn’t at all usual to suddenly tell someone you only know slightly about the state of your family finances!”
David frowned.
He felt so damn weak and ill, but he could tell that this issue really mattered to Viola.
At last he agreed, but wished he could explain to his sister that he did not feel as if this was only the second time he had met Lady Margaret.
He felt he had known her all his life! But he was convinced that Viola would not understand.
Breakfast was served in a small room on the Eastern side of the Castle.
The bright morning sun was streaming through the windows and although it made the room seem warmer, it highlighted the worn carpet and threadbare curtains.
It was obvious to Viola that Glentorran Castle did, indeed, need a vast amount of money to be spent on it.
The Duke and his sister were drinking coffee and reading the morning’s post that had just arrived.
“I trust you find your brother is a little better?” the Duke enquired as Viola slipped into a seat.
“Yes, indeed. I am sure that a few days’ rest will see him fully recovered.”
Lady Margaret looked up, her eyes intense.
“We must be so careful not to hurry him and cause another relapse,” she now counselled. “Doctor Monroe was most precise that David should take things very easily.”
Viola shook her head at the maid who was offering her a bowl of porridge and took some fresh bread from a basket in the middle of the table. She then spread a large spoonful of honey on it, enjoying the sweet mouthful.
“It’s our own heather honey,” the Duke informed her, glancing up from a long and official-looking letter.
His dark eyes gleamed.
“You find it pleasing, Lady Viola?”
She returned his smile.
“Yes, Your Grace. It has a wonderful flavour and fragrance.”
The Duke now found himself staring at the sunlight from the window as it played on the gold tendrils of hair that fluttered around her ears in the draught from the half open door.
Pulling himself together, he suggested,
“I was wondering if you would care to be shown a little more of the Glentorran estate this morning? You ride, I am sure.”
Viola smiled and nodded her head.
For all their poverty whilst growing up, riding had been one of the country pursuits her father had insisted that she and David learn from an early age.
“Then, if you will forgive me, I will leave you now to finish your breakfast and arrange for a suitable mount to be ready for you. Shall we say at eleven o’clock?”
Viola laughed.
“As long as Lady Margaret can find me something to ride in, I shall be delighted.”
&nbs
p; “Oh, call me Meg. We did agree remember? Lady Margaret sounds so heavy and old-fashioned!”
The Duke paused as he reached the door and, with a smile, added,
“And I am Robert. That makes life far easier for everyone. I don’t hold with all the ceremony and rank that goes with my title.”
Lady Margaret smiled at Viola’s expression as her brother left the room.
“Robert professes such modern views regarding his title, Viola. He claims a Duke should earn the respect he is given, but not expect it as a right.”
Viola nodded, realising with some surprise that she agreed with the dark-haired Scottish girl.
“Now, if you have finished your breakfast, let’s go upstairs and I will find you something to ride in. Thank Heavens we are roughly the same height and shape!”
Just as they were crossing the hall, Mrs. Livesey appeared,
“Oh, Lady Viola, Captain Howard is in the morning room, waiting to speak to you if that is convenient.”
“My goodness, yes. I must find out how the other passengers are today. Will you excuse me, Meg?”
“Certainly. I will start sorting out my wardrobe. If you are to be with us for more than a few days, then you will need more than one outfit to wear!”
Viola hurried to the morning room to find Captain Howard standing with his back to the window, his peaked cap in his hands.
“Captain – oh, it is so good to see you fit and well. How are the passengers – Mr. and Mrs. Van Ashton and all the others? We had a message that they were safe, but are they fully recovered from their dreadful ordeal? And what will you do without your beautiful yacht?”
Captain Howard, an elderly American, smiled, his stern grizzled face softening at the sight of this beautiful young English girl, who had been so charming to himself and his crew on their journey across the Atlantic.
“We all survived unscathed, thank you, my Lady. Mr. and Mrs. Van Ashton and the remainder of their party are on their way to London.
“I am heading for Glasgow with my crew. Mr. Van Ashton has to deal with the insurance officials, but assures me he will purchase another motor yacht just as soon as he can. We will wait for his instructions.”
Viola clasped her hands together.
“Oh, that is such good news! Now, tell me, was anything salvaged from the wreck?”
Captain Howard frowned.
“A few boxes of cargo, a couple of suitcases, but most was lost.”
Viola tried to sound cheerful.
“That is sad, of course, but they are only material possessions. No one has lost their life from that appalling accident, which is the main thing.
“I am writing to my cousin, Miss Matthews, today to tell her what has happened. She is very elderly and I don’t wish to alarm her, but it is important that she knows we are safe and well.”
The Captain’s frown deepened.
He was not sure whether to confide his fears to this lovely girl, but if she was to remain in Scotland, surely she should be warned.
“Lady Viola, have you given any thought as to why the ship ran onto those rocks?”
Viola shook her head, mystified.
“I suppose I imagined it was because of the storm, the wind driving us onto the coast.”
“I think that will be the official version, but my men tell me that they steered for the shelter of the shore because they could see a bright light flashing and believed it to be the light showing the way into a harbour.”
The dark blue eyes gazing up into his grew even was implying.
“But surely – no, that just cannot be right! That would mean – ”
Captain Howard shook his head grimly.
“Yes, my Lady. It does mean wreckers! Dastardly fiends deliberately attempting to entice us poor sailors onto the rocks so that they can steal the ship’s cargo.”
Viola leapt up instantly and walked to the window, gazing out over the tangles of unpruned shrubs and towards the distant mountains.
“I simply cannot believe it. This is 1904, Captain Howard. In this day and age, surely such heinous crimes have long been outlawed.”
“Yes, my Lady, but on certain parts of the wilder Cornish coast it still occurs occasionally. I have not heard of it here in Scotland, but my men are quite sure they saw a light.”
She could find no words to persuade him otherwise, although privately she was convinced that the lookout had fallen asleep at his post and had not realised how far North the storm had driven the yacht.
She also had a suspicion – because she had heard her father once discussing it with one of his friends – that if human error was discovered to be the cause of the wreck, Mr. Van Ashton would not receive the full amount of any insurance claim.
But what if the Captain was right?
Viola shuddered, feeling suddenly very cold.
That meant that someone on the Glentorran estate had deliberately set out to wreck the boat, not caring who lost their lives in that atrocious sea.
“All I am saying, my Lady, is keep your ears and eyes open while you and his Lordship are here in Scotland.
“Just be on your guard and if you see anything that might confirm my suspicions, let the authorities know of it immediately.
“And now I must take my leave of you. I wish you good day, Lady Viola, and my respects to your brother.”
Viola watched the Captain leave.
Deep in thought she made her way upstairs.
She paused outside David’s room, wondering if she should tell him what she had just learnt.
But she could hear Meg’s voice coming from inside and hesitated.
If she told Meg, then she would surely inform her brother.
For some strange reason Viola did not want the Duke to know that there might be a problem on his estate.
She slipped into her own room and smiled as she found riding clothes laid out on her bed.
As she changed, she decided she was worrying over nothing.
‘After all,’ she said to herself, tying back her long hair with a blue scarf, ‘the Captain has just gone through a traumatic experience. He has lost his ship and will surely be blamed. I expect his crew are trying to save him from the authorities – and themselves! Yes, that is what it will be.
‘Wreckers, indeed! And in this day and age – what rubbish!’
Viola made her way out of the Castle and through a maze of overgrown pathways round to the stable block.
The Duke was waiting for her, talking to a small thin man whom Viola suspected must be his Head Groom.
Two horses were saddled and ready to ride.
The Duke turned and smiled as the tall slim figure in a dark blue riding skirt and jacket appeared.
“Viola! You look charming. I recognise that outfit, although Meg hardly rides at all these days.
“This is Stuart McAndrew. Stuart used to help his father, Angus, with the gardens and now gives a hand with the few horses that remain here.
“Stuart, this is Lady Viola Northcombe, who, as I am certain you have already heard on the grapevine, was rescued from the sea with her brother, the Earl.”
“Mr. McAndrew.”
Two bright brown eyes peered at her from beneath bushy eyebrows and a gnarled hand touched an imaginary cap.
“Lady Viola. Glad to see you are none the worse for your misadventure, my Lady.”
“Thank you. I am well. It all happened so quickly, there was no time to be scared.”
“Aye, these things do happen fast,” Stuart replied almost under his breath, as Viola was about to ask him what he meant when the Duke broke in,
“Here, let me help you to mount and we will be on our way. Your horse is called Bonnie. She’s a nice little mare. We only have three horses left now. My old boy, Brandy here and an old pony that Meg cannot be persuaded to sell. She lets him pull her in a little pony cart down to the village to collect fresh fish when the fleet comes in.”
Viola was very aware of the Duke’s strength as she put her foot in his
cupped hand and let him half-throw her into the saddle.
For a long second his lean tanned fingers lingered on hers as he sorted out the reins and made sure she was comfortable.
He looked up at her and smiled, his dark eyes warm with friendship.
Viola felt hot colour rush into her cheeks.
Why was she feeling so on edge?
The Duke could never mean anything to her.
She watched as he swung himself effortlessly onto his mount and with a brief nod of farewell to the groom, set off down a path that led through the neglected grounds and then away from the Castle and out onto the moors.
Viola glanced around her as she rode, enjoying the sweet breeze that was blowing in from the sea.
She had no difficulty in handling Bonnie and soon urged her into a trot, so that where the path widened she could ride next to the Duke.
“Is this all Glentorran land?”
“Aye, it is.”
The Duke shook his head in despair.
“And, as you can see, it is not in good repair. The grounds were immaculate in my grandfather’s day. Lawns swept down gracefully from the terrace and there were so many interesting trees and shrubs.
“I must admit that Stuart does seem a little on the elderly side to be gardening full time,” remarked Viola, not wishing to sound critical.
The Duke laughed, but it was not a happy sound.
“You should meet his father! Old Angus. He was the Head Gardener for years at Glentorran. He has a little croft up on the moors, but he refuses to leave his cottage in the Castle grounds.”
The track was leading them upwards now, winding its way through great sheets of heather.
Somewhere overhead a lark was singing about the glorious day and bees were busy everywhere.
“I should have thought it would be marvellous to live up here amongst all this magnificent scenery.”
The Duke smiled across at the beautiful girl, whose hair had pulled free from the blue scarf and was blowing in pale blonde tendrils across her cheeks.
“Magnificent now, that is true, but in the winter the snow comes down from the mountains and these moors are cold and bleak. Still beautiful but deadly as well.”
A Castle of Dreams Page 5
