A Castle of Dreams Read Free

finishes the whole outfit splendidly!”
    *
    Robert, Duke of Glentorran, came out of the library into the hall and paused.
    He needed to find his sister.
    He knew she did not care for crowds and noise.  He had not intended to leave her on her own for such a long time, but his business discussions with Mr. Brent had been urgent and protracted.
    Tall and dark, his face looked stern.
    The Duke was deeply worried.
    His ancestral Glentorran estate on the West coast of Scotland was in desperate need of money.
    The Castle was always referred to locally as a ‘little Glamis’. It was very similar in style and design – although much smaller – to the world famous castle near Dundee, where the Earls of Strathmore had lived for centuries.
    The Duke loved every inch, every stone, turret and window of his ancient home.  He knew all his tenants from the oldest shepherd who tended the flocks on the high hills down to the youngest baby born to one of the fishermen in the village of Glentorran.
    But he also recognised that without a considerable investment, he would be forced to close up the Castle and move into the Dower House on the estate.
    Hundreds of clansmen completely relied on him for their livelihood and he could see no way of increasing his revenue.
    The Duke stood, staring around, trying to find his sister.
    The ceaseless chatter and laughter, the careless gaiety of these Socialites were more and more annoying him.
    Grimly he reckoned that all the jewellery on display this evening would keep his Castle and the estate running for a good twenty years!
    Did any of these people know what it was like to be poor?
    To have one schoolroom for over fifty children?
    For the closest hospital to be miles away across a range of mountains?
    What would they know about having responsibility for so many people less fortunate than themselves who had not been born to title and privilege?
    He doubted that the people in this house would ever understand.
    The Duke strode across the hall and then stopped as a sudden flash of pale blue caught his eye.
    The most beautiful girl he had ever seen in his life was gliding down the great stairway towards him.
    He did not see the costly dress or even the sparkling sapphires at her neck.
    All he could see was the sheer beauty of her face, the proud way she held her head, the tumbled golden curls, carelessly pinned back with a length of cream lace.
    He had not the faintest idea who she was or who could introduce him.
    Normally the Duke was a quiet reserved man, but some power held him in place at the foot of the stairs and as the angel in blue reached him, he held out his hand and asked her gently,
    â€œMadam, please will you do the honour of dancing with me?”
    Viola felt as if she had been swept away into an unknown world.
    One second she had been innocently walking down stairs, anxious to show David her marvellous gown and then there was a tall handsome man, holding out his hand, the expression in his dark brown eyes both commanding and imploring at the same time.
    With a small gasp she had nodded her acceptance and now she was held in his arms and they were waltzing, surrounded by light and colour and many people she would undoubtedly know.
    But she could see none of them – just the dark eyes that gazed down into hers so intently.
    â€œYou will think me amiss, madam, asking you to dance when we have not been introduced. Please allow me to introduce myself.  I am Robert, the Duke of Glentorran, at your service.”
    Viola smiled up at him as he swirled her round, her feet hardly seeming to touch the polished parquet floor.
    â€œYour Grace – I am most delighted to make your acquaintance. I am Lady Viola Northcombe.”
    â€œViola – that is a – ”
    He hesitated, as he had been about to say, ‘that is a beautiful name’, but realised he was being far too forward with a young lady he had only just met.
    â€œ – interesting name,”