Castle In The Clouds, Chapters 3 & 4

CHAPTER THREE

Llewellyn returned to the castle entrance to find Dorothea emerging from its shadows. 'Well brother, that was a chance encounter, was it not?'
'Will you keep as keen an eye on the household as you do my activities, Dorothea?' Llewellyn pushed past her, embarrassed and annoyed by her snooping – he felt her eyes burning the back of his head as he descended the stairs to the lounge.
'Of course I shall, as you well know,' her voice sounded hollow, resounding from the stone walls of the narrow stairway, 'but one cannot fail to notice your interest in the young Miss Day.'
Llewellyn loosened his tie; Dorothea's words were as sharp as her voice. 'Miss Day has experienced a troublesome ordeal; she felt the need for a peaceful walk. I merely consoled her and introduced myself.'
Dorothea followed him to the lounge window, where he stood, hands thrust into the pockets of his breeches. She stood alongside, drew on her cigarette, gazed across the gardens and fields beyond. 'A peaceful walk perhaps, but I sense there to be another reason for the path she took-'
'Which is?' Llewellyn turned, inhaling her acrid breath. She gave what he termed her “cocky” smile, dark eyes alive with mischief, 'Do not concern yourself brother, time will tell.'
Unprepared to indulge himself in his sister's ambiguities, Llewellyn returned to his study. He longed to re-establish contact with the lovely Miss Day before she left the island, and in so doing, perhaps he could recompense what he deemed her biggest loss.
He tugged the gold-threaded cord at the side of his desk and soon acknowledged the
presence of his silver haired butler -
'Ah, Hambleton, I wish to avail myself of your infinite London knowledge-'
'Sir?'
'Please close the door Hambleton, I wish our conversation to be private.
'Good, now, -whereabouts in London am I to acquire a classical violin fit for the use of a renowned performer?'
'Sir – I do not –‘'
'No Hambleton,' Llewellyn directed a forefinger at his butler. 'Please do not advise me that you are unaware of the tragic events of last night-'
'No sir, indeed I am not.' Hambleton drew a finger across his lip, 'I was merely going to suggest that you look in the opposite direction for your musical equipment.'
Llewellyn shook his head – everything of quality derived from the Capital, it was a known fact.
'Sir, if you please – might I suggest Edinburgh as an alternative. Transportation of suitable merchandise from the City might prove a lengthy business. By selecting Edinburgh you would not be forfeiting quality and I can arrange delivery of a fine instrument within two days, I have no doubt of that. But I do doubt that Miss Day will be long on this island – if you wish to impress her then I suggest Edinburgh sir, a mere seventy miles away – London is many times that.'
'I seek not to impress her,' Llewellyn said loudly, then adjusting both his tone and tuxedo, 'you understand I seek to address a great misfortune; spare no expense on my account and do all you can to ensure delivery within two days. Edinburgh it will be.'
'I shall attend to it sir.
' Llewellyn nodded as Hambleton departed, and satisfied with the wisdom of his butler's
suggestion, strode to his dark oak cabinet, whereupon he poured his finest scotch and gazed out to sea.
* *
Two days later, Dorothea sat in the dining room, eyeing her brother from under her heavy lashes. 'Should you not be making preparation for returning to London, Thomas? Your train is but one hour away.'
Llewellyn was stirred from his thoughts, eager anticipation of the arrival shortly, of a violin from Edinburgh. 'My profound apologies for not informing you, dear sister – I shall be staying a while longer.'
Llewellyn derived satisfaction from a brief flicker of his sister's eyelids and a sudden tic in her cheek, which often exhibited itself when she was irked.
'What might I ask induced this change in your normally meticulous planning, a certain washed-up violinist?'
'Spare me your humourless taunts, Dorothea, and improve upon your nature. We are to receive a guest at dinner this evening.'
Llewellyn watched Dorothea's lips tighten and twist. 'Yes, Veronica Day, and we are to be treated to a private recital in the gallery.'
'Without an instrument, Thomas? From what I understand she lost about everything but the clothes she wore.'
'It is being arranged.' Llewellyn smiled at Dorothea's discomfort, 'and before you exercise your razor sharp tongue, I seek to improve Miss Day's fortunes, nothing more.'
Dorothea placed her cup down and tilted her head back, fixing him with a long, unblinking stare, 'And has Miss Day any knowledge of this?'
'Do not concern yourself on that account.’ Llewellyn took in the tautness of his sister's facial muscles with pleasure, 'It is as good as done.'
Satisfied with having gained the upper hand over Dorothea, Llewellyn left her to simmer, and his spirits were further raised when the Stradivarius violin arrived at lunchtime, Hambleton being as good as his word. Hambleton had established contact with a specialist supplier who had knowledge of Veronica Day's career and had provided the ideal instrument.
With the violin in his possession Llewellyn immediately set out for the village in his trap, drawing the pony to a halt in the main street, outside the address Mrs. Simms had provided him with.
He knocked and heard the sound of footsteps within, and was shortly greeted by the violinist, wearing a long floral dress, her hair tied back so that her refined features were fully displayed.
'Why, Mr. Llewellyn -'
'Miss Day, please excuse my unannounced arrival, but I felt I had to compensate for the tragic consequences of your demise.'
'I'm not sure I understand you -'
'Please bear with me for an instant.' Llewellyn went to the back of the trap, lifting out the cased violin. 'Please accept this as a gift from me, a token of my deep sorrow at your
losses and -'
'Oh but I cannot, really I cannot -'
Llewellyn saw her glance down, saw recognition of the manufacturer's label. 'It is too much, I cannot justify receiving it from you -'
'Oh but you can,' Llewellyn focused on her brown eyes, jewels in her face, 'for I ask something in return.’ Before she could respond he held his free hand aloft, 'I only ask that you perform at the castle, a private recital. It would be a privilege and an honour to receive you and to hear you play.'
Veronica was silent, Llewellyn thought she might not accept, but in a singular graceful movement she stretched her limbs, relieved him of the instrument and nodded. 'Then I do
accept, if only to express my gratitude. When would you desire my presence, Mr. Llewellyn?'
Llewellyn fingered his moustache, looking directly into her fine features, her soft, flawless skin, feeling a tremble from head to foot. 'If it pleases you, this evening; following which we will enjoy dinner.'
She raised her brows, looked uncertain, 'Why, such short notice; I need to familiarise with my new instrument -'
'And I need to return to London at similarly short notice; the opportunity might not arise again.'
'Then I will begin rehearsal immediately, and will attend the castle at?'
'Six o'clock would be excellent.'
Llewellyn bade Veronica Day farewell, for six short hours at least.
But farewell, with regard to her, was not a word which figured prominently in his
thoughts.
CHAPTER FOUR

Veronica Day sat in the small drawing room caressing the strings of her new violin before running her fingers over its russet surface. How kind it had been of Mr. Llewellyn to go to the trouble and expense of purchasing a replacement violin for her – and to be able to acquire one so similar to her own treasured instrument – surely he must have some form of expert knowledge on the subject, she thought to question him later.
She turned her attention to the four walls, each of them mounted with three rectangular paintings, all of sea-going vessels, with several depicting lifeboats in action at the scene of a troubled ship. One such painting, of a stormy evening in failing light, with the wind seeming to hurl huge buckets of swirling foam over the bows of a distressed craft, brought re-charged memories that smashed their way into a mind unwilling to receive them. She'd need to come to terms with the tragedy, with the loss of life that had ensued thus leaving her the only survivor, but not yet. Too soon; far too soon.
But as she struggled in the sea, sucking in air, spitting out water, she'd seen the lifeboat bearing down on her, its bow plunging through the heavy tide.
She had no trouble recalling that instant, or the sight of a young man perched ready to jump, which a second later he had – in one expert movement diving alongside and then drawing her towards the boat where they'd both been pulled to safety.
Truly, that was one moment she would never forget. From enquiries in the village she'd learned the man's name was John Gibbings, that he could be found most days tending the castle grounds where he worked as a gardener.
She'd been on her way there, to thank him personally for his bravery when she'd encountered Mr. Llewellyn – an imposing and distinguished looking man upon first reflection descending the castle slope. She'd thought at first she'd been trespassing and had been about to turn heel, but he'd bade her continue and then, reluctant to reveal the true intent of her visit she'd declined. During their brief encounter however, she'd sensed that Mr. Llewellyn had taken an instant liking to her, and in truth, was looking forward to her evening at his castle, notwithstanding her usual apprehension in unfamiliar company.
* *
'Do not worry dear brother; your appearance is as usual impeccable. Our distinguished guest cannot fail to be impressed.'
Llewellyn gave a start; Dorothea had been standing at his half-open door as he examined himself in the mirror. 'Dorothea,' he snapped, turning on her, 'please find a more deserving outlet for your tasteless sarcasm; we are most fortunate to be receiving a personal recital from a renowned musician, please remember that.'
Dorothea raised her heavy brows, lifted her face and with a smirk, said, 'Using an instrument you went to untold length and cost to acquire for her.'
Before Llewellyn could deliver an appropriate retort Dorothea had swept away along the gallery and down the castle stairs, leaving him irritated beyond measure.
Nevertheless, despite his sister's humourless broadsides, Llewellyn was determined to look his best to receive their visitor, thus he departed the castle in pony and trap wearing a dark blazer, white shirt and bright flannel trousers; out of keeping with the costume of the island but entirely in keeping with his own standard of dress.
He drove along the coast road before entering the village and, pulling up at her lodgings, jumped down from the trap to be received by the tall woman with flaming red hair who'd so captivated him. Attired in a white satin shawl and full length lilac dress she presented a picture of immeasurable beauty.
Llewellyn caught his breath at the sight of her but she seemed not to notice, as he took her violin case in one hand, and with the other gently guided her up into the trap.
'I trust you will enjoy your evening at the castle,' he said, letting go of her hand reluctantly and taking up the reins, 'it is quite a special place you know.'
'I'm quite sure it is,' she said, adjusting her dress around her long legs, 'and that I shall enjoy it; likewise I trust you will enjoy my recital.'
'Of course, I shall.' Llewellyn gave a broad smile, tweaked his moustache, then forced his attention to the road; out of the corner of his eye he saw Veronica in her seat, her back held straight against the padded bench; she had perfect poise as well as natural beauty.
To the east, the sky was blue, and along the open approach to the castle the sea seemed filled with green jewels. And he, Thomas Llewellyn had invited the finest jewel of them all to his castle, for an evening never to be forgotten.