Castle In The Clouds, Chapters Eleven and Twelve

Chapter Eleven

Dawn revealed a grey morning with a few yellow streaks on the horizon as the rising sun struggled to show. Llewellyn looked down from his room towards the harbour where the fishermen were preparing their nets, but his thoughts were concentrated on the evening that lay ahead. He hoped that nothing would arise to mar Veronica's recital; Dorothea's absence in the light of her recent behaviour would turn out to be a blessing and now the weather appeared the only factor that could adversely affect it. Over that matter he had no control. Over his sister disturbingly, he had increasingly little. It was an issue which needed to be addressed sooner rather than later, particularly in view of his plans for Veronica.
Veronica would be offered a permanent room at the castle, doubtless she would accept. He hadn't had the opportunity to expound to her the previous evening due to her curious preoccupation with Gibbings, but nonetheless he would do so first opportunity that morning. He yearned to enter into a permanent relationship with her. Never before had he experienced such heightened feelings for a woman, but he knew that time and familiarity must combine to enable it to happen.
He sat at his writing desk, spending some time on business correspondence he'd brought from London, finding it unusually difficult to concentrate, before ringing for Hambleton, eager to convey news of his decision.
'Ah Hambleton, come in, take a seat.' He gestured to a high-backed Queen-Anne chair across the room, then noticing his butler's air of surprise, 'I shall dispense with formality on this occasion, you have long been a confidant of mine. I wish to advise you of a decision I have made.'
'Decision sir?'
'I have decided to bestow upon Miss Day the offer of having her own room at the castle.'
'A permanent room, sir?'
'Why yes.' Llewellyn frowned at the incredulity in Hambleton's tone. 'Is there something which disturbs you about that?'
Hambleton drew a finger across his lips, an insignificant gesture perhaps, but long association with his butler told Llewellyn that the movement portrayed concern.
'Feel free to deliver your opinion, Hambleton,' Llewellyn prodded patiently.
'Sir, there could be considerable friction in such a move, there appears bad chemistry in certain quarters -'
'By which you are referring to my sister,' Llewellyn interrupted touchily. 'She will learn to desist with her unruly behaviour or pay the price.'
Hambleton shook his head, gave Llewellyn a sombre look. 'By chemistry sir, I am suggesting that more than one party is at play.'
Llewellyn twisted his lips, just what was Hambleton trying to say? 'And that suggestion is surely not that Miss Day is a contributing factor in this “bad chemistry”?'
Hambleton swallowed, pinching his chin between thumb and forefinger. 'Not wilfully, perhaps sir, but they are such contrasting personalities that I do feel conflict will arise, and as I have said, Gibbings is somehow at the -'
'Ah, Gibbings, yes,' Llewellyn glanced down at the pen he'd been rolling between his fingers, recalling Veronica's curiosity of the previous evening, and of Hambleton's account of Dorothea's strange behaviour towards him. But somehow it seemed too insignificant a matter to be wasting time on – the real culprit was Dorothea. Llewellyn waved his hand dismissively. 'Gibbings is of no serious account. It is my sister we need to keep account of, be sure that I will do so – and while I'm away, see that I am advised of any abnormal behaviour -'
'Forgive me for interrupting sir – but has Miss Llewellyn been informed of this development?'
'Good Lord no, I have yet to advise Miss Day, but I remind you that the say-so is mine, Hambleton, not my sister's.' Llewellyn gave the butler a long, reflective look. 'I have to say, that I am beginning to regret accepting her presence here. There has always been a sarcastic edge to her character; it seems of late to have developed a vindictive one.'
'As I see it sir, the purchase could not have been accomplished without her funds.'
Llewellyn shrugged. 'I could have explored other possibilities,' he said, head bowed, and then raising his eyes to meet Hambleton, 'perhaps I still can.'
'I fear she will not be easily dislodged.' Hambleton rose to his feet, 'If I might suggest sir, perhaps you should begin by asking Miss Day whether she would accept a room here; if she declines, it might greatly reduce any future altercations.'
'I very much doubt that,' Llewellyn snapped. Hambleton's words had arrived like a slap in the face; that he should even imply, as he appeared to be doing, that Veronica was in any way involved in this “bad chemistry,” was outrageous. But he'd asked for an opinion and been given one he hadn't liked.
Llewellyn sighed, turned to the window. The skies had lifted, the sun had broken through and with it, raised his spirits. After breakfast he would treat Veronica to a ride in the trap, and he would announce his offer of a room in the castle.

* *

'Oh but I have to practice my music if I am to entertain you to the best of my abilities.' Veronica placed her cup in the saucer and brushed the arms of the light yellow dress she wore.
'I thought that on such a refreshing morning a ride inland would be invigorating,' Llewellyn persisted, overcoming a pang of disappointment. 'Are you familiar with horses? I could let you chair the trap -'
Veronica gave an easy, relaxed smile, 'Familiar? Why I grew up with them. Horses were another of my father's passions – but I never let anything interfere with my objectives and my objective now is to ensure that I entertain you to the best of my abilities this evening. So I must decline your kind invitation, at least on this occasion.'
Llewellyn nodded, conceding unwillingly. 'Then before you leave, perhaps?'
'Providing you allow me to drive, I agree.'
Llewellyn marvelled at her abilities, not too many women could handle a pony and trap, certainly not Dorothea who had a dread of horses.
Llewellyn, pleased with her acceptance of his offer, delayed as it was, tweaked his moustache and felt the tension building within. 'Veronica,' he said leaning towards her, 'I want to make you an offer.'
He saw her expression change, become at once more serious. 'An offer?'
'Why, yes – you say you have a liking for the coast, you seem to have an affinity for
the island, and your company here has been heavenly. I'd like to make you an offer of a room here, any time you wish – your own special room.'
Veronica chewed her lip, she looked uncertain, like the first time he'd encountered her on the shore. 'There are no strings,' Llewellyn said quietly.
'I don't know what to say, it is true that I find the island and the coast in general alluring, but your offer is too much. I cannot warrant -'
'But you do warrant it.' Llewellyn's hand was atop of hers, 'It is a pleasure to offer it.'
'And your sister, would she accept -'
'My sister is not the owner of this castle – I am,' Llewellyn said firmly, and aware of the bitterness in his voice abruptly moderated his tone, 'she oversees affairs while I am away. That is all.'
'Well it is a most generous offer which I shall consider.' Veronica rose to her feet. 'It would be nice to have such a place to stay as this, from time to time.'
Llewellyn watched her stride out of the room, tall, elegant, composed. She hadn't said yes to his offer, but there was a suggestion she would accept. And Llewellyn was a step closer to his ultimate desire.
* *

Dorothea spent the morning perusing the castle's record books. Management of castle affairs was no great strain on her resources and a couple of hours a day was enough to keep matters in order. But the strains of Veronica's violin were an unwanted background accessory and a constant reminder of an unwanted guest her brother foolishly doted on. She could see it in his eyes, the way he looked at her, but Veronica Day hadn't returned to the castle for him, any more than her concert that evening was arranged on the household's behalf.
Someone else held her interest, perhaps even fancy, and that someone was John Gibbings.
Dorothea pulled back her chair, strolled to an oak cabinet beside the window, then poured a double measure of Scotch and lit a cigarette. John Gibbings was in her pocket, she had him at her mercy and he knew it, she could read into those fine eyes. The violinist might have beauty on her side but in a few days she would be gone, and once she saw she couldn't sway him she would never return.
She could afford to miss out on the concert that night, the devious woman had got her way but it would produce nothing.
Dorothea gulped down the whisky, poured another, John Gibbings would come to her in the end of his own accord, and she would get some reward for settling on this island.
She'd been bored in London, her social life had become stale and the same old rounds bored her. When Thomas had proposed the castle, having seen its sale advertised in a national newspaper, it seemed the perfect adventure and she'd provided the money to back Thomas' purchase.
But the island was small, few people inhabited it and events happened so slowly they scarcely happened at all. Nothing excited her apart from John Gibbings. He had a wild side he was struggling to contain and that wildness was as challenging as it was appealing. Moreover she was certain that in a short while she would appeal to him.
Life had its rewards and her duty here as administrator of the castle would see that she got that reward through him – once Veronica Day and her brother were out of the way.
Dorothea blew smoke rings into the air, poured a final glass of scotch and allowed herself a smile.
All she needed was patience.

Chapter Twelve

Llewellyn got his wish. The fine weather held, with the evening sun beginning to sink behind the castle ramparts, leaving the roof garden bathed in a deep golden glow, while a soft, warm breeze rustled amongst the tubs of pansies.
Prior to Veronica's recital, Mrs. Simms had prepared a seafood salad and now she, Hambleton, Veronica and Gibbings were seated around the garden's oval table listening to an enthusiastic Llewellyn. 'It is indeed a pleasure to be able to listen to the music of a beautiful lady, in such a setting as this.'
'Why thank you.' Veronica smiled, cleared her plate and gently brushed her white dress. 'I am pleased that the weather is fine.' She locked eyes with Gibbings, 'Are you familiar with the violin, John?'
Gibbings shook his head. 'No I am not,' he said, his expression surly.
'Well now, with all the work you do I doubt that you'd have time for music. After my recital I could let you take a closer look, perhaps let you play on it.'
'No I don't think so,' Gibbings said dismissively, but Veronica appeared not to have heard. She cocked her head at Llewellyn. 'Would that be alright, Thomas?' she asked quietly.
Llewellyn raised his brows, he couldn't see how Gibbings would be remotely interested in Veronica's violin, indeed why she'd invited him in the first place, but she was giving the distinct impression that refusal would disappoint her and he wasn't having that -
'If Miss Day wants you to try playing her violin then I would deem it rude should you refuse.' Gibbings reddened, his eyes didn't meet hers but he accepted and Veronica slapped the table. 'Good then it's settled, a little private lesson for you once the performance is finished - and please all of you, I insist you call me Veronica.'
Mrs. Simms cleared the table, assisted by Veronica who waved aside any protests. During their absence from the roof garden Llewellyn turned to Gibbings. 'Well you are honoured, young man,' he said without concealing his surprise, 'to be offered what amounts to a lesson by a celebrated violinist – and you were going to refuse -'
'I think he was just simply taken aback,' Hambleton said, intervening on Gibbings' behalf, 'as we all were.'
'Indeed.' Llewellyn swallowed, glanced at Hambleton and then back to Gibbings. 'Miss Day – Veronica, shows a marked interest in your welfare, you are most fortunate in that respect.'
'I do nothing to encourage it, sir.'
'Indeed, that is plainly evident,' Llewellyn grunted. 'You show a distinct lack of courtesy in your approach towards her.'
'I think the lad feels a little, shall we say, out of place,' Hambleton said again. 'Miss Veronica exudes the kind of presence one doesn't meet on a daily basis.'
'Hambleton I'm certain the young man can speak for himself,' Llewellyn remarked showing a little irritation. 'Nonetheless I feel there is truth in what you say.'
He broke off as Mrs. Simms came through the door, followed by Veronica carrying her violin and bow; she took up a position at the far end of the roof garden which pleased Llewellyn, for what was left of the sunlight reflected there on her hair, providing it with the rich red tint that he loved.
She played for an hour, the base of the violin tucked neatly under her chin, while the bow glided effortlessly across the strings and the music both gentle and vibrant carried over the roof garden, blending with the soothing tumble of the sea.
When she had finished, Llewellyn, deeply captivated conducted a generous round of applause, before, reluctantly guiding the others away, he left Veronica in the company of Gibbings.
'Well John,' she said quietly when they were alone, 'I finally get the chance to speak with you, I'm sure you're not that enthusiastic about playing the violin -'
'No madam.'
'No Veronica,' she said sternly.
'No Veronica -'
'Is that resentment I read in you?'
The same height as Gibbings, she met him full in the eye and when he didn't reply, said, 'Are you being manipulated, John Gibbings?'
She saw him visibly tense, his jaw tighten, his face colour.
'Madam?'
'Veronica -'
'I beg your pardon, Veronica?'
'You heard what I said. The sea isn't that noisy today,' she waited patiently, legs and arms crossed, eyes unwavering. 'Look, it couldn't be more obvious if it were written across your chest in large letters.’ There was defiance, perhaps anger visible in his dark eyes but she remained steadfast. 'What hold has Dorothea got over you John?'
'You're impossible,' he muttered beneath his breath.
'No – but I could be,' she leaned close, her hair brushing his shoulder, 'now are you going to open up?'
'Not now – not here,' his eyes darted to and fro, and then settled on her. 'Christ, why did I save you from the sea?'
'Then where?'
'I don’t know – you can't help anyway.'
'Give me the chance to repay what you did for me.' She took a look round the garden, checked they were alone and grabbed his shoulders with both hands, 'Give me that chance.'
He lowered his eyes, then flicked his long lashes up at her. 'Tomorrow morning early– sunrise - the abbey grounds – though what good it'll do -'
'Finally he concedes.' Veronica stooped down, collected the violin and bow, shoved them into his hands. 'Now I don't care what kind of row you make with this, but for the benefit of the others inside, try and play it.'
Gibbings exhaled deeply, gave her a look bordering on a scowl, laid the violin clumsily against his cheek and the bow grated across the strings. Veronica pressed her hands against her ears and she saw John Gibbings break into his first real smile.
* *

Hambleton heard the echo of heels, the swish of stiff dress fabric and instantly knew Dorothea was approaching the hallway. He sighed, managing a polite smile as she hurried through.
'Hambleton, did you enjoy the virtuoso performance this evening?'
Bolting the door, turning back towards Dorothea Hambleton said, 'Quite splendid Madam.'
'Indeed,' Dorothea clasped her hands together. 'I also heard the most awful grinding sound, it made my teeth judder.'
'Gibbings, Madam.'
'Gibbings?'
'I believe Miss Veronica offered him the use of her violin -'
'Absurd – quite absurd – as if Gibbings would be interested in such an instrument.'
'No Madam.' Hambleton took a step forward, 'If you'll excuse me -'
'Were you all offered the opportunity to “fiddle” with her violin?'
Hambleton baulked, drew a finger across his lip. 'As far as I know the offer was restricted to Gibbings.'
'What do you mean as far as you know?' Dorothea cried, 'Hambleton of course you know.'
'The offer was not extended elsewhere.'
'How cosy -' Dorothea narrowed her hooded eyes. 'As if it wasn't to be expected.'
'If there is nothing further Madam -'
Dorothea stepped across, blocking Hambleton's path into the passageway. 'You are aware that Mr. Llewellyn dotes on Miss Day, Hambleton?'
' He – he displays a fondness Madam – I presume that is why he invited her back.'
'Hambleton,' Dorothea said, her voice lowered, 'would you not now concede that the
woman is not all she seems, that her interest in Gibbings is other than normal and that her effect on the castle is disruptive? Is it not my brother we should be concerned for? Be sure she shares no concern for him.'
'I -'
'Hambleton – Hambleton – oh, there you are.' Llewellyn swept into the hall, ignoring his sister. 'I was looking for Veronica, she remained on the roof with Gibbings – I was seeking to
ensure she has not been locked out.'
'Miss Veronica has retired to her room sir.' Hambleton sidestepped Llewellyn and Dorothea, readily taking the opportunity to extricate himself from her presence. 'And now if you will excuse me?'
'Certainly, Hambleton.'
Dorothea watched the butler recede along the passage, turning to her brother with a glint in her eye. 'And she did not think to seek you out – to wish you goodnight?'
'I have suffered enough of your presence for one day, sister,' Llewellyn uttered through barely parted teeth, before turning on his heels and following Hambleton along the passageway.
Dorothea noted his aggravated stance, placed a hand beneath her chin, knew her words had found a weak spot in her brother's disposition towards Veronica and vowed to capitalise on it.
And Hambleton was not only her brother's butler but also his ally. She was getting through, he was having his doubts, she could tell in his manner. Veronica Day's association with the island would be short lived, of that she had no doubt.