A Castle of Dreams by Barbara Cartland Page A

might be some ancient object and worth a fortune that would help your brother save the estate.”
    She sighed and reached out her hand to run a slim finger through the grime covering the porcelain.
    â€œNo, I’m afraid things like that only happen in story books, David.  Look, over here in this cupboard are several tatty oil paintings from Italy.  In a novel you would look at them and then tell me that they are worth thousands and thousands of guineas.  But this is not a novel – this is real life and we are going to lose Glentorran!”
    David then put down the vase and without thinking, reached to take her in his arms.
    He could not bear to see this wonderful girl with all those tears on her cheeks and such sadness and despair in her eyes.
    â€œMeg, my darling Meg.  Please don’t cry!  Oh, Meg, I know you have not known me for very long, but I must tell you that I love you.  I don’t expect you to love me back, but at least let me take care of you.”
    He bent his head to her and gently kissed her lips.
    To his total amazement she did not pull away, but wrapped her arms around his neck and returned his kisses.
    â€œOh, David.  I love you, too.  I think I have loved you from the very moment you rescued me from my hiding place behind that plant at the Brent’s ball!”
    â€œWill you marry me, sweet Meg?”
    â€œOh, yes, David.  Yes !”
    Tenderly he bent his head to kiss her again, then he realised she was pulling away from him.
    â€œThis is nonsense!  How can we marry?  You are in no position to take on a wife and I have no dowry to bring you.”
    David pulled her back into his arms and tightened his hold on her slim form.
    â€œListen to me, Meg,” he replied.  “Don’t despair. Everything will be all right, I do promise you.  Believe me, come tomorrow night, I will be able to tell you something that will lighten your heart completely and mean that we will always be together!”
    *
    At the ceilidh the tune from the fiddle ceased with a loud flourish of notes, the dancers laughed and clapped and made their way to the side of the barn where refreshments had been laid out on long trestle tables.
    The Duke handed Viola a large glass of homemade lemonade, smiling at her flushed cheeks and tousled hair.
    â€œYou see, the dances are not that difficult, although I think perhaps they are a little rowdy for the select London ballrooms!”
    Viola looked up at him, mischief in her eyes.
    â€œI recall us dancing at just such a ball!  You were certainly far less energetic than you are tonight!”
    â€œBut that was because I was hypnotised by a pair of brilliant bright blue eyes and could hardly remember how to waltz.  Indeed I can hardly bear to take my eyes from you ever again!”
    Viola caught her breath as she found herself staring up into dark eyes that burnt with a passion she had always longed to see.
    Ever since she was old enough to consider falling in love, she had wanted a man to look at her in the way that Robert, the Duke of Glentorran, was doing now.
    There was no need for words.
    Everything he felt for her was there in his eyes and she knew that he could read her feelings in her face just as easily.
    The Duke tore his gaze from the beautiful sight in front of him and glanced round the hot crowded barn.
    He realised that they were at the centre of attention and at that moment he craved for a quiet lonely spot where he could tell Viola exactly how he felt about her.
    He took the glass of lemonade from her and placed it on a nearby table.
    â€œPlease walk with me down to the harbour side,” he murmured. “I want to speak to you and what I have to say is for you and you alone to hear.”
    Drawing her arm through his he turned to the door.
    Just at that moment one of the fishermen came up and touched his forehead in salute.
    He muttered a request to the Duke, who frowned in exasperation,