Love Finds the Way Read online

  "Have you thought up any more good ideas?" he asked to change the subject.

  "Oh, yes!" She turned suddenly and clasped his hands. "I have good news, John, very good news."

  "Tell me quickly."

  "My father and two friends, who came to dinner with him last night, were very enthusiastic at our idea. When I went to bed all three of them were working out how much they could spend on the castle."

  "Already? Is it possible?"

  "All we have to do now is find lots of other people."

  "That's all we have to do?"

  "Yes, but that's simple if we do what we discussed in the carriage yesterday – call people here to the castle to let them see the problem for themselves. It is not just a question of only the rich, but everyone who lives in the County. It matters to all of them. And when it has been restored people will come and see it and they will spend money and the whole area will prosper."

  Again her excitement made John wonder if he was dreaming.

  'How can it mean so much to her?' he wondered. 'She must have countless men pursuing her, wanting to dance with her, to talk to her and to kiss her. And all she cares about is a ruin.'

  She had never even been here before, yet she spoke as though it was her personal responsibility to protect the castle. And if she could persuade others to feel the same, they would follow her lead.

  The shops would benefit, so would the Churches and hotels. The roads would have to be enlarged and made easier to travel on, so that every year there would be more and more visitors to the castle.

  And all because Miss Gina Wilton possessed the soul of a pioneer, he thought, with a rising excitement that matched hers.

  "I don't know who to invite to this meeting. But I feel sure that you do."

  "Well, I have a list that Papa made up for me," she said, producing a piece of paper. "He says these are the oldest families in the County. He is also making another list of those who arrived so recently that they are not on this list."

  John took the paper from her and saw it was longer than he expected. As he read the names and addresses, he felt that Gina's father knew a great deal more about the County than he knew himself.

  He was surprised at the importance of some of the names. There were families he had heard of years ago, but had not been in touch with them for so long that he had forgotten their very existence.

  "Do I have to speak to all these people?" he asked.

  "Of course. They will want to hear everything from your own lips," Gina replied. "I think we should ask them not for this Saturday but the following one."

  "You have relieved my mind. I had visions of you summoning them for tomorrow. You are the last person I expected to counsel delay."

  "We must give people time to accept and it would be a great mistake, Papa thinks, for you to risk this meeting going badly because it was rushed. And of course, this will not be the only list."

  "Good Heavens! Is somebody going to make another one?"

  "Why you are, of course. There is bound to be some record of the late Duke's friends and associates. Do you know where your uncle wrote his letters?"

  "In the library, I suppose. That would be the place to start."

  As they headed for the library John did not speak, but he knew that Gina was looking at the walls where the paper was peeling.

  When they reached the library he thought it was a disgrace. The windows were cracked. The floor was dirty and the desk should have been thrown away before it collapsed completely.

  "What a nightmare!" John exclaimed. "I wouldn't know where to begin looking."

  Even as he spoke there was the sound of footsteps and a tall thin man came into the room. He was about forty and good looking in a quiet way. He gave John a small, elegant bow.

  "Good morning, Your Grace. Allow me to introduce myself. I was your late uncle's secretary and now I am yours. I am Ambrose Faber."

  John shook his hand.

  "Why, now I remember you," he said pleasantly. "When I was a child I used to play here at the castle and sometimes you were visiting here."

  "I was hardly visiting," Ambrose answered with a smile. "Your uncle allowed me to run errands for him in return for my board and lodging. Last year I returned and did my best to be useful to him. Now I hope I can be useful to you."

  "And so you can be," John replied. "I am sure you know what a bad way everything is in."

  Faber sighed and nodded.

  "Miss Wilton here has an idea that may save us. We are planning a reception to be given here and everyone on this list is to be invited. There will be more names to follow and as the reception is to be on Saturday week, I am afraid that doesn't give you much time."

  To his surprise Ambrose smiled and said,

  "You were the same as a child, Your Grace. Here today and gone tomorrow, making everyone run to get things done."

  "But this time it isn't I who is ordering the running," John responded with a significant glance at Gina who was watching them both with an innocent look. Just as though she had not been responsible for the whole thing, he thought indignantly.

  "I think," he said, "that Miss Wilton and I should tell you what we are planning. Together," he added firmly.

  So they told him with both of them more or less talking at once.

  "Do you really intend having all these people in the castle?" Ambrose managed to say when he could get a word in edgeways.

  "These and a great many more," John replied. "In fact, we are asking everyone in the County to come to what will be the most important gathering ever held in the castle."

  "But, to what end?" Ambrose asked, bewildered.

  Gina then told him the whole plan in detail.

  At first he could only gasp.

  When she had finally stopped speaking, he said,

  "It's incredible, but it might work."

  "Of course it will work," Gina burst out. "We will have the most famous and the most beautiful castle in the whole of England."

  "Then I had better go and start work," he said, and departed.

  When they were alone John looked at Gina who was bubbling over with excitement. She looked prettier than ever and he had to remind himself that she was a dreaded bluestocking, or she might have enchanted him.

  "Why don't I show you the castle now?" he suggested.

  "Oh, yes, please. I have dreamed of it all my life and now that I am here I want to make the most of it."

  With a flourish he offered her his arm.

  "In that case, madam, allow me to escort you. Dilapidated though it is, my home is at your service."

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Chesterton Castle was one of the oldest in the country.

  "That's why it's so special," Gina enthused as they went to look at the moat. "A real Norman castle, one of the first built by William the Conqueror on lands given by him to Baron Guy le Chester."

  She sounded as though she was reciting a lesson learned by heart.

  "Was it?" John asked.

  "Don't pretend that you don't know," she chided him, laughing. "This is your heritage, your glory. When I think how you must swell with pride to think that you are descended from Baron Guy le Chester, Swithin Chester who fought with the Black Prince, Algernon Chester who was one of Queen Elizabeth's courtiers –"

  "I hate to disappoint you," he interrupted her hastily, "but I do not swell with pride. When I was a boy I thought it was an intolerable bore having to learn all those names."

  "Really?" she sounded shocked.

  "Really. I know what a poor creature you must think me now, but it cannot be helped."

  He sighed and tried to look convincingly dejected by his own failure.

  "Oh, well," she said at last. "It cannot be helped. One must allow something for the vagaries of youth."

  "I was a horrible child," he said, throwing another ember on the fire.

  "I am sure you were, but one cannot expect children to appreciate their history. One must take a larger view."

  "
Miss Wilton," he said with feeling, "if you don't stop being so appallingly reasonable and understanding, I shall do something desperate."

  She giggled and it had a strange effect on him, as though a shiver of delight had gone right through him. The temptation to tease her was suddenly irresistible.

  "Besides, I did not grow up in the castle. My family lived in a house on the estate. Everyone assumed that my uncle would marry and his son would inherit. So I wasn't, as you seem to assume, reared in the knowledge of my destiny."

  "Oh, dear," she sighed.

  "I was just an ordinary boy. I climbed trees and played truant."

  "But weren't you entranced by the romance of a castle that has stood all these centuries?"

  "No," he said firmly. "Now, let us start our exploration. This was the original keep."

  As he spoke he led her towards the great round tower.

  It was the highest part of the castle, having been constructed on top of a small hill so that it dominated not only the rest of the building but the whole countryside. It was built of white stone, with narrow slit windows.

  "Did archers stand behind those windows to fire arrows at invaders?" Gina asked eagerly.

  "Certainly they did."

  She gave a sigh of relief.

  "That's all right then," she said happily.

  "What a very bloodthirsty young woman you are, to be sure!"

  "Not at all. But wars are part of history and a true student must look at the entire picture. I hold it a poor thing for any female to befuddle her mind with pretty pictures of the past, when the truth is really far more exciting, even if more gruesome."

  "Indeed!" said John, shocked by this unfeminine toughness of mind. "Well, you must remind me to show you the dungeons, complete with instruments of torture. You will have a wonderful time."

  "Oh, yes, please!"

  John had always found the keep rather gloomy and dank, but Gina went round it with eyes wide and entranced. Everything was wonderful to her.

  "I used to dream of this when I was a child," she said eagerly. "From my bedroom window I could see this very tower silhouetted against the sky and I would think of all the thrilling events that unfolded here."

  "They weren't fighting invaders all the time," John objected. "This was a living area. These were the servants' quarters at the bottom and then we climb up to where the family lived."

  "It isn't stone inside," she said, sounding disappointed.

  "No, the inside is made of timber and it's not in very good repair, so be careful how you go."

  The upper stories were shabby with tapestries and hangings in rags. In one great bedroom a four-poster bed stood with one of its posts missing and a corner hanging drunkenly down.

  But nothing could dampen Gina's spirits. She wandered blissfully from room to room, sometimes closing her eyes and just standing still, clearly full of visions. John watched her, smiling kindly.

  "Is it as good as you had hoped?" he enquired.

  "Oh, it's wonderful. Just think how people must have felt, living here."

  "Chilly, I should think. This place would have been incredibly draughty even when the hangings weren't falling to pieces."

  She did not seem to hear. She had wandered over to one of the narrow windows and was looking out over the countryside.

  John came to stand beside her and for the first time he realised just how far it was possible to see from this high place.

  For miles and miles the view stretched. And on the other side of the keep the view would stretch as far. The men and women who had lived here had reason to feel that they were the rulers of all they surveyed.

  And the people, in turn, had been able to see this tower from a great distance. In fact, they could not escape it. John began to understand what Gina was talking about when she said that everyone had a stake in the castle and a kind of excitement stirred in him.

  "Are we right at the top?" she asked.

  "Just one more floor."

  They left the great room and walked to the wooden staircase that led to the top. Gina immediately began to climb it, eager to see more.

  Suddenly there was an ominous creaking noise and the step beneath her foot gave way, then the one beneath that.

  The next moment she was falling.

  Quick as lightning, John held up his arms and caught her before she landed, clasping her tightly.

  "Oh, thank you," she gasped.

  He was holding her high against his chest, one arm under her knees, one supporting her back. Somehow her arms were about his neck and she was looking up into his face.

  He looked down at her and her face seemed to swim before him. In the gloom her eyes looked enormous, gazing up at him.

  He could feel her warm breath fluttering against his mouth.

  He was aware that he ought to set her down, as propriety demanded, but he could not move. And he knew in his heart that he did not want to move. He wanted to stay here like this, holding her warm body against his own, until he lowered his mouth to hers and then –

  He drew a deep, shuddering breath.

  "Are you all right?" he asked hoarsely.

  "What?" she whispered.

  "Are you hurt?"

  "No," she replied. "You caught me in time."

  "I am – glad."

  He had the alarming feeling that he was not making sense. His head was still spinning.

  "John –" she said raggedly, "I think you should put me down."

  "Yes – yes, of course."

  Slowly he lowered her until her feet touched the ground and felt her hands tighten against his shoulders to steady herself. Even so, she staggered a little when he released her.

  "Are you quite sure you weren't hurt?" he asked in a low voice.

  "No – no – I am just – a little giddy. It scared me, that's all."

  "Perhaps we should go back," he said. "I will show you the rest later."

  He preceded her down the stairs to the bottom of the tower, so that he would be there if she fell again, but nothing happened.

  As they walked away from the keep and back to the main part of the castle, where the family now lived, John was talking to himself very severely.

  He did not know what had possessed him during those few blinding moments when he had held Gina in his arms, but he knew that it had been very dangerous.

  He liked her well enough, but she was the last person in the world he would want to marry. She was bossy, interfering, intellectual, all the things a woman definitely should not be.

  Yet he had been on the verge of kissing her, dazzled by a mysterious aura that had come from her while their bodies were so close.

  That must never happen again, he told himself. He could not send her away, since he planned to use her ideas, but he would keep her at a proper distance.

  He stole a sideways glance at Gina to see if she reflected any of his own consciousness of what had happened. But she was not looking at him and except for a certain pallor, she seemed unaffected.

  "You will meet my sister, Drusilla," he said as they entered the house. "She arrived home from Finishing School half an hour ago with windmills in her head."

  "What kind of windmills?"

  "She is convinced that she has snared a wealthy husband."

  "But that's wonderful," Gina breathed. "Why he could help –"

  "Miss Wilton," he said wrathfully, "could you please forget the castle for just one moment? There are other things in the world that are of interest."

  "Surely not, Your Grace."

  He ground his teeth.

  "I assure you, Drusilla has no thought of helping the family. She simply wishes to live an extravagant life and she's prepared to marry a tra – a fat, elderly grocer to do it."

  Gina looked at him mischievously.

  "You were about to say 'tradesman', weren't you?"

  "I forget what I was about to say."

  "Yes, you were. Then you remembered that my father is a builder – a tradesman."

 
"Your father has produced an estimable daughter and I have the highest regard for him," John said, wishing the earth would open and swallow him up. "Besides which, your grandfather is a vicar."

  "Does that make a difference?" she asked innocently.

  It did, of course, make a difference, since a vicar was a gentleman and a tradesman was not. But John did not feel equal to saying any of this, especially with her challenging eyes on him.

  "You know perfectly well what I mean."

  "Of course I do and it's shocking of me to make fun of you."

  "Yes, it is," he said with feeling.

  "Then I won't do so any more. Besides, we have more important things to consider. This fat, elderly grocer –"

  "Arthur Scuggins," he informed her.

  "That is his name?" she asked faintly.

  "Indeed it is!"

  "Oh, well, it cannot be helped. Is Arthur Scuggins a wealthy fat, elderly grocer?"

  "Drusilla seems to think that he is."

  "In that case, Your Grace –"

  "What do you mean 'Your Grace'? You were going to call me John."

  "And you were going to call me Gina, but I have mysteriously become Miss Wilton again."

  "Yes – well –"

  He floundered to a standstill, since it was not possible to tell her that this was part of his plan to set her at a safe distance.

  They entered the drawing room to find tea and cakes being served by one of the twins, who immediately hurried away to fetch more.

  Drusilla rose from where she had been sitting enjoying a cosy chat with her mother and John introduced the two girls.

  He could not help comparing them. Drusilla, niece of one Duke, sister of another, looked overdressed and fussy. Gina, daughter of a builder, looked quietly elegant and her manner was restrained. Of the two, it was she who appeared to be the lady. Drusilla, he reckoned, was bidding fair to become a hoyden.

  More tea and cakes appeared and John discovered that they were the best cakes he had ever tasted. The tea too was excellent and so had the breakfast been, he recalled. Clearly Jeremiah, the lost sheep who had taken over the kitchen, was an expert, which was something to be thankful for.