Architects, designers and workers from all over the district were busy every day at Glentorran.
The whole local population was feeling the benefit of the Glentorran expansion.
Jobs were being created everywhere, especially in the Castle itself.
Mrs. Livesey was now like a cat that had licked the cream – her dour expression had vanished as she was now in charge of a large and growing staff.
All the rooms that had been closed for years were being opened, cleaned and redecorated.
Once again the great kitchens were in full use and cook could be heard singing songs from popular operettas because she was so happy.
The Duke had big exciting plans to open the Castle grounds to the public on certain days of the year.
There would now be a chance for people to come to see how wonderful Glentorran was and to purchase such products as plants, flowers, honey and other items made by the crofters and estate workers.
“Dear old Angus is in his element making an Italian garden to enhance the Castle grounds,” Viola enthused.
“It was such a kind thought of yours, Robert, to involve him by giving him his own project. I am certain he would have been deeply upset to have all these ‘foreigners’ working in his gardens.”
The Duke smiled.
“The Italian Garden! It is well named. I still cannot believe how much money I received for those old Italian paintings David found in the attic! A small fortune.
“To think they were sitting up there all this time, unrecognised!”
Viola laughed.
She could recall the look of bliss on her brother’s face when Robert had carried her back into the Castle after their adventure in the harbour.
He had been less excited by their engagement than by his news that he was sure he had discovered a collection of very rare and extremely valuable paintings abandoned in the Glentorran attics.
“Your grandfather so obviously thought his brother, your great-uncle, had bought a load of useless rubbish with him when he returned from Italy.
“Goodness, Robert, he might have had them burnt or destroyed!”
The Duke chuckled.
“No, he was far too canny an old gentleman to ever throw anything away, be it priceless paintings or old broken chairs. It was all stored away in the attics in case it came in useful some day. And Glentorran has now to thank him for his wise ways!”
They reached the drive that led to the Castle with its towers and spires reaching up to the sky.
The Duke reined to a halt and turned to look at his beautiful fiancée, his face suddenly serious.
“Next week, Viola my darling, you will become the Duchess of Glentorran. I am worried. Is it too much of a burden to ask you to bear? Life will not be easy, even with our money, and you will find that you have little time for yourself. You will belong to the people of Glentorran as much as to me.”
Viola stared up at the great Castle.
It was indeed a most intimidating sight as well as a vast responsibility for someone as young as her to carry.
She turned and gazed into Robert’s dark eyes.
“I cannot wait, my love,” she said simply, “and we will be doing everything together, so that any burden will be shared between us.”
*
Seven days later all of Glentorran was bedecked in tartan and bunting for the wedding of their beloved Duke to Lady Viola Northcombe.
The Duke had decreed that the wedding would take place in the Castle Chapel and not in a bigger Church in a faraway town where they knew no one.
He wanted everyone in Glentorran to attend if they could.
So many of the great and good of Scotland, Earls and Countesses, Dukes and Princes, crofters, fisherfolk and everyone who loved and admired the young couple, were gathered to witness the joining of two people who were so much in love.
In the front pew, resplendent in deep ruby velvet, sat Lady Margaret, now the new Countess of Northcombe, her pretty face aglow with happiness.
Her wedding to her beloved David had taken place a month earlier.
They had both shunned the idea of a Society affair, Meg insisting that she and David were a shy quiet couple and so would have a shy quiet wedding!
But now she was bubbling with excitement because after the ceremony, they would be setting out on their big adventure, the one they had dreamed of for so long.
They were heading out across Europe and intending to travel through Africa, on to India and then to the South Seas islands. They would sketch and paint and live a simple life, wanting for nothing more than to be in each other’s company forever.
Mischievously Meg had said the night before to a blushing Viola,
“We will send our children back to Glentorran for holidays so they understand their roots. And get to know all the cousins I am sure you and Robert will provide for them!”
Yes, all Meg’s dreams were coming true and she truly felt no couple could possibly be as happy as she and David.
But several rows further back in the Castle Chapel sat a husband and wife who would have disagreed with her.
Fergus and Heather Lyall, resplendent in their new clothes, Fergus’s red hair blazing just like a torch above his dark blue jacket and Glentorran kilt, were certain that they were the happiest people in the whole wide world.
In London, on their behalf, the Duke had sold the diamond brooch that Mrs. Van Ashton had so generously given Fergus and with the proceeds a new modern fishing- boat had been purchased.
The Lady Viola now floated proudly in Glentorran harbour and Fergus knew his little son would have a future to inherit if he chose to follow his father’s occupation.
*
Waiting impatiently at the altar the Duke was aware of nothing but the thudding of his heart.
The organ was playing, but he could not have told what the tune was.
Then the music changed completely as he heard the congregation rise to their feet.
Turning round, he watched in humble amazement as a vision in white silk and a cloudy chiffon veil studded with small silver stars floated down the aisle towards him.
Viola’s bouquet cascaded from her gloved hands – a riot of white lilies and pink carnations and, there nestling between them, a few buds of the white and pink rose called Grace Darling she had admired so much in the Glentorran gardens all those weeks ago.
Only old Angus McAndrew knew the long hours he had laboured, nursing his rose bushes inside the glasshouse so he could provide the blooms she wanted on this special day.
And behind Viola, holding up the end of her long silk train came one solitary pageboy, red-headed Ian Lyall, so proud of his tiny kilt and sporran that he could hardly breathe.
Viola turned to smile affectionately at her twin who was giving her away.
He winked at her with brotherly good humour as he gently placed her hand onto the Duke’s arm.
Together they turned to face the Minister and as the solemn words rang out for everybody to hear, Lady Viola Northcombe became the Duchess of Glentorran.
She lifted back her veil and gazed up in adoration at the man she loved so much.
He bent to kiss her and as his lips touched hers, she knew with every fibre of her being that their love was a gift from God and thus Eternal.
They both felt that their souls were being lifted to the stars as an angelic choir sang the praises of their love.
“You have always had my love and my heart. Now you possess my very soul – for ever and ever in this world and the next,” Robert whispered to her.
And Viola knew that her new life in the Castle of Dreams would indeed be Heaven itself.
Where to buy other titles in this series
The Barbara Cartland Pink collection is available for download at the following online bookshops :-
www.barnesandnoble.com - epub format for the Nook eReader
www.whsmith.co.uk - epub format for the Smiths/Kobo eReader
www.firstyfish.com - epub format
www.amazon.co.uk - For UK Kindle users
www.amazon.com - For international Kindle users
itunes.apple.com - for Apple iOS users
www.barbaracartland.com - Printed paperbacks
A Castle of Dreams Page 13
