A Castle of Dreams by Barbara Cartland

tuning a set of bagpipes.
    The music was bright and cheerful and in the centre of the barn several couples were dancing vigorously with the men’s kilts swinging, the women in their best dresses, skipping and laughing while the music told them to change direction, swing their partners and parade around the room.
    All was noise and excitement.
    Viola found herself grasping the Duke’s arm.
    â€œOh, how lovely!” she exclaimed.
    The Duke nodded his head, his dark eyes gleaming with pleasure at her spontaneous delight.
    â€œI so hoped that you would enjoy the sight.  Now, I suggest that you leave your wrap over there on yon chair and dance with me!”
    â€œBut I don’t know the steps.”
    The Duke laughed, his usually stern face relaxing.
    For a second or two, Viola could see what he must have looked like when he was just a young boy, visiting his grandfather, running wild and free across the heather with his friends from the fishing village.
    He would have had no cares and no worries.
    It was a far cry from then to the Duke of Glentorran who was in danger of losing his beloved Castle and estate.
    â€œYou will soon learn them.  Here – take my hand!  Will you be trusting me, Viola?”
    â€œOh, always!” she gasped and within seconds found herself dancing in the middle of the barn.
    Breathlessly she skipped along and ran, giggling as the other women made sure that she was in the right place at the right time.
    Then, when she had mastered the simple steps, she gave herself up to the sheer joy of dancing with the Duke, of feeling his hand strong and warm on hers, admiring the breadth of his shoulders under the old green jacket he was wearing.
    The Duke was whooping with much excitement as the men spun their ladies into the middle of the ring, then, driven onwards by the insistent rhythm of the fiddle, leapt after them to wrap their arms round slender waists and lead them once more to the end of the dance.
    He gazed down into Viola’s flushed face.
    She was looking breathtakingly beautiful, her blue eyes were sparkling with her golden hair flowing free from its ribbons and cascading down over her shoulders.
    The Duke recognised that he no longer cared that all he could offer her was a poverty-stricken estate and a Castle that was close to ruin.
    He wanted to marry Lady Viola Northcombe and he was almost certain that she returned at least some of his feelings.
    *
    Back at Glentorran Castle, David was roaming the top floors of the vast building, exploring the dusty deserted rooms that had once housed many servants.
    Now closed up and neglected the top floors of the Castle were a rabbit warren of dark attics, hidden stairways and forgotten windows.
    â€œDavid!  What are you doing here?  Mrs. Livesey told me where you were and I was concerned.  You are still not fully recovered from your fever, you know.  You could have felt faint climbing all these stairs.”
    Meg stood in the doorway of one of the great attics, looking at him with affection in her dark eyes.
    David now pushed back his hair from his forehead, leaving a black streak of dust across his face.
    â€œMeg!  I am sorry.  I had no intention of worrying anyone.  I began exploring and I am only just beginning to realise that Glentorran Castle is such a vast and wonderful place.”
    Meg laughed.
    â€œAye, that is very true.  And these old attics hold so much of our illustrious history.  Generations of Glentorrans have stored their unwanted possessions up here.”
    David picked up a hideous looking vase from an old rickety table.
    â€œTo be frank, Meg, I cannot imagine anyone ever wanting to possess something as ugly as this!”
    The Scottish girl laughed again.
    â€œThis attic was where my grandfather stored all the items that members of the family brought back from their travels abroad.  I think that vase came from Egypt.”
    David examined it carefully.
    â€œWhy, it