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.
Gina described her morning looking round the keep and Lady Evelyn gave a shudder.
"Dreadful mouldy place," she exclaimed. "In fact, so is the whole castle. I shall be glad to move back to our own home."
"Oh, Mama," Drusilla said with a little shriek. "We cannot live in that pokey little place. Not now we are grand. A Duke's family should live in a castle."
"Except that the castle is impossible to live in," said John, resisting the temptation to tear his hair.
"But we are going to make it right," Gina objected.
"How?" Drusilla wanted to know.
Seeing John look nonplussed, Gina whispered,
"Shouldn't I have said anything?"
"No, it is time we told Mama what we are going to do," John said.
Briefly he outlined Gina's plan to his astonished mother.
"But that's wonderful!" Drusilla exclaimed. "Then everything will be all right and we'll be as grand as we ought to be."
"That isn't why I am doing it," John answered. "It is to preserve our heritage for the sake of everyone in the area."
"Oh, who cares about them? It will be glorious for us," said Drusilla.
"No," Lady Evelyn said decisively. "Your brother is right. We are not doing this for ourselves, but for history. Gina, my dear, it is an excellent idea. I shall help you as much as I can and I expect to be involved in everything."
"Of course, ma'am," said Gina, jumping to her feet in her excitement.
Lady Evelyn also rose and took her hands.
"And you must come and stay here, my dear."
"Mama!" John exclaimed frantically.
"But your Ladyship, I cannot –"
"Of course you can. If you are going to arrange all this you need to be in the centre of it. You cannot keep coming and going every day. You must live here as part of the family. Oh, do say yes, do!"
"Yes!" exclaimed Gina. "Oh, yes, please."
Drusilla too bounded to her feet, squealing with excitement and joined the other two, dancing round and round, hand in hand, while John regarded the three of them, aghast at the calamity that had befallen him.
For the sake of his sanity he had planned to keep her at a safe distance. Now she was to live under his roof.
Gina spent the rest of the day working with Ambrose on lists, while John took himself off to visit other parts of his estate. He was afraid he might not be able to hide his dismay that she would continue to be there.
It was arranged that she would return to her home that evening to collect her luggage and come back to the castle next morning. John saw her into the carriage, thanked her for her work and stood watching as she departed, wondering at himself for the way he felt.
Gina had a strange magic and that was dangerous. He would have avoided her if he could, but now that was impossible.
*
An hour later the carriage pulled up outside Gina's home, a large stone mansion set in extensive grounds. As she descended, a powdered footman pulled open the front door.
"Good evening, miss."
"Good evening, Cadmon. Are my parents in?"
"In the library, miss."
As she headed for the library another powdered footman opened the door for her.
Her Mama was standing on the hearthrug, twisting and turning before her father, who sat at his desk. He had been studying plans, but had abandoned them to admire his wife.
"Darling," her mother said, "look at this lovely new dress Papa has bought me."
"Why Mama, it is beautiful!" Gina exclaimed. "Such a gorgeous rich, red velvet."
"It seems as though I will have to buy some rubies to go with it," Papa said, grinning.
"You spoil me, my love," his wife told him tenderly.
"And what shall I buy you, my dear?" Samuel Wilton asked his daughter.
"Nothing Papa, you buy me too many things," she replied, kissing him on the forehead.
"That is one of the pleasures of money," he declared, with a happy sigh. "A man can treat his ladies. What shall I get you, my pet?"
"Nothing, Papa," she repeated firmly.
Gina knew that her father was an extremely wealthy man who could have afforded anything she asked for. For that very reason, she was reluctant to ask for a great deal. She was very much her mother's daughter, reared in vicarage standards.
Starting as a small builder, Samuel Wilton had progressed until he had a very large firm. From there he had gone on to speculate in the railways that were fast covering the country and made a huge fortune.
Gina had told John that he was a tradesman and insofar as a builder was a tradesman, that was true. But he was a tradesman writ very large indeed.
His enormous wealth had made him a man of distinction, mixing with other men of power and influence. He could have bought himself a title, but had simply never bothered to do so. At heart he was a simple man who had married a vicar's daughter and ran his life according to her strong principles.
He was rather in awe of his wife, knowing that his intellect did not match her own. He was in awe of his daughter for the same reason. And his love for these two women filled his world.
"Did you have a good day at the castle?" her mother asked.
"Yes, thank you Mama. And Lady Evelyn has invited me to stay for a while, so tomorrow I will be going back."
"Aiming to become a Duchess now?" asked her father, his eyes twinkling.
"Certainly not!" Gina snapped at once. "I am interested in the castle, as I told you last night."
"I know, I know, and the castle needs money. Or rather the Duke needs money."
Papa grasped her hands, his eyes alight.
"I know what, my pet. Shall I buy you the Duke?"
"Samuel!"
"Papa! How can you?" Gina was almost in tears. "What a terrible thing to say."
The good-hearted man looked blankly at the outrage of his wife and daughter.
"What's this? What did I say that was so dreadful? Eliza, my love, what did I say?"
"It was disgraceful," his wife told him severely.
"Why? Why?"
"Naturally our girl wishes to marry only for love."
"Well, she can love him, can't she? Best thing if she does. She will get a better bargain that way and if there's one thing I do know about, it's how to strike a good bargain."
Both his womenfolk covered their eyes at this vulgarity. Knowing that he was getting in deeper, but not too certain how, he blundered on,
"Besides, he is a handsome young fellow."
"You know him?" Gina asked, uncovering her eyes.
"Never met him."
"Then how do you know he is handsome?"
"Because you as good as said so last night."
"I never mentioned his looks."
"Not in words, but your eyes shone whenever you spoke of him."
"I deny it," Gina said fiercely. "He is nothing to me. Nothing! Do you understand?"
"Very well, my pet. There is no need to deafen me."
"Please understand that my concern is only for history."
"But you can concern yourself with history here," Samuel pointed out. "When that curate came round trying to whip up interest in saving the village wishing well, you took no interest beyond a donation. Of course, he wasn't handsome –"
"Papa, if you say another word I shall leave the room," Gina asserted fiercely.
"All right, all right. Dear me, it seems that everything I say is wrong."
"Besides, you do our girl an injustice," his wife assured him. "She is intellectual and high-minded. She would never be overly swayed by a young man's beauty or appearance."
"Then she is different to every other girl in the world," Samuel defended himself robustly. "Very well, I will say no more. Except this. Gina my dear, if you should change your mind, I could manage a dowry of about a quarter of a million and surely that would get the Duke out of his difficulties?"
Gina stared at her father, aghast.
"I would rather die!" she cried passionately.
Then she ran from the room, leaving Samuel staring after her in total bewilderment.
That night, when her maid had helped her out of her clothes and into her silk, embroidered nightgown and was brushing her hair, Gina suddenly said,
"It's all right, Bertha. You can go to bed now."
The maid bobbed and vanished. Gina looked at herself in the mirror.
'I would rather die,' she murmured. 'Did I do wrong in not telling him I am an heiress? Surely not. If he only wanted me for my money, I could not endure it.'
A tear trickled down her cheek.
'And I don't know why I am crying,' she sniffed. 'There is nothing to cry about. Nothing at all.'
*
John was in a testy mood the following morning. Breakfast had been made hideous by Drusilla's conviction that all problems were now solved and they could all begin to live like Dukes.
In vain did John try to explain that the idea was only in the planning stage and that they were still a long way from success. Drusilla's feather-brain had room for only one idea and it was invariably the one that suited her.
"You will give me a really grand ball, won't you?" she demanded of her brother.
"Whatever for?"
"For my coming out. How can I be a debutante without a coming out ball?"
"Why should you want to be a debutante if you are already planning your wedding?" he asked caustically. "A girl who has snared a man called Scuggins has surely nothing left to wish for."
Drusilla put out her tongue at him.
After breakfast John tried to do some work with his secretary, but what he discovered of the accounts only depressed him even more.
With one ear he was listening for the sound of Gina's arrival. When he heard the crunch of wheels he ran out to greet her.
Gina was leaning out waving to him and beaming.
He gave her a bright smile, feeling thoroughly confused. It was delightful to see her. Too delightful, he told himself. She was a terrible girl with advanced ideas of which he thoroughly disapproved. But she was also mysteriously bewitching and her visit was going to be a trial of both his nerves and his feelings.
He opened the carriage door and she immediately jumped down, seizing his hands in hers.
"I have some wonderful news to tell you," she said. "Wait until you hear it."
John waited hopefully. Gina's eyes were shining.
"I know an heiress," she declared.
"What?"
He could not believe his ears.
"She is enormously rich, and just what you need."
"Gina, we discussed this before, and I told you –"
"Oh, but I am not asking you to do anything dishonourable," she said fervently.
"A marriage for money sounds fairly dishonourable to me."
"Not if it is made for love."
"How can I be in love with her if I don't know her?"
"I will take care of that. The thing is, she is very pretty and charming, so you can fall in love with her and marry her with a clear conscience. That way you will get a better bargain."
"Get a – ?"
"I learned that from my father, because if there is one thing Papa does know about, it is how to strike a good bargain."
"I am going mad," said John faintly. "Any moment now I will start seeing visions or addressing people who don't exist. I find it hard to believe that you actually – stars above!"
"You don't think it's a good idea?" she asked anxiously.
"No, I do not think it's a good idea."
He could not have said why her eagerness to marry him off should trouble him so much. In theory he should be pleased, since it meant that she herself was certainly not setting her cap at him. He could simply dismiss the moment they had shared in the keep.
But somehow he did not want to do that.
"Who is this girl?" he asked.
"Oh – just an heiress."
"Just an heiress. There are so many, aren't there?"
"There aren't many heiresses as rich as this one and you would do well to consider her."
"You had better tell me her name, so that I can give her a wide berth."
"In that case her name doesn't matter," Gina replied stubbornly. "I'll warn her off you. I will tell her you are pigheaded and rude and –"
"Just tell her that I won't marry her," John interrupted wildly. "That will be quite enough, you dreadful girl."
Lady Evelyn came out onto the step in time to hear this last pronouncement.
"John dear," she murmured, "please remember your manners. Gina, how nice to see you. Come inside and see your room."
She swept their guest away, casting a reproachful look back over her shoulder at her son.
As the two women moved further into the house, Gina's plaintive voice drifted back to him,
"I fear I may have offended your son, ma'am. Such terrible things he says to me."
And his mother,
"Ignore him my dear. It is perfectly fatal to take the slightest notice of anything a man says or does."
John breathed hard, wondering how long it would be before he murdered Miss Wilton.