by Anne Mather
Then, as they began the approach to the home of the della Maria Estradas, she caught her breath in amazement. Ahead of them, among pine trees, looking like a fairy-tale palace, was a small, exquisite castle, turreted and moated, its grey stone walls turning a faint pink in the glow of the afternoon sun.
'Oh, Paul,' she gasped. 'This surely can't be—'
'Yes. The Castelo Estrada! Do you like it?'
'But you never told me…' Her voice trailed away.
'I suppose I ought to have known that something like this was at the end of it.' She thought cynically of the unknown Janet and her desire for riches. 'It's a pity Janet couldn't have seen this. She would certainly not have quarrelled with you then.'
'Yes.' Paul sounded thoughtful. 'However, beautiful places and beautiful things are of little use to Janet, or me, for that matter.'
Toni glanced at him, frowning. 'What do you mean?'
Paul snorted sardonically. 'It surely must have crossed even your mind that to maintain a castle in this day and age takes money, plenty of money!'
Toni screwed up her nose. 'That sounds mercenary, Paul.'
'I know. It was meant to.'
'Do you mean that if this - castle - was yours, you would sell it?' Her tone was incredulous.
'Well, maybe not if I had Uncle Raoul's income, but certainly if I were left the castle on a pittance, it would have to go. I'm no sentimentalist, Toni. As I've said, I get enjoyment from spending money, not looking at it!'
Toni did not reply. She thought Paul was very immature in some ways. With her innate love of beauty in all things, she couldn't understand the kind of mentality that could discount a building so mellowed with historical age in favour of money to be spent having a good time. In any case, she thought dryly, Paul's ideas of having a good time and her own were doubtless divergent.
The car swept up a long, gravelled drive. Before the impressive facade of the castle it widened into a courtyard, while a narrow bridge spanned the moat and led into the inner recesses of the castle. The portcullis was no longer in use, but Toni, with her vivid imagination, could well picture the scene as it had once appeared to weary travellers, newly arrived in the country. The castle was placed in a strategic position, with the hills above providing .a natural defence against unwary attack behind, and the sea in front.
The car negotiated the bridge, and they were in the courtyard, with Paul turning off the car's engine, and glancing encouragingly at Toni. Toni felt nervousness assail her, but she climbed out of the car swiftly, not ' allowing herself to think. There was no one about, and she looked at Paul, questioningly.
'Siesta,' replied Paul, in explanation. 'Afternoons are pretty quiet around here.'
'I see,' Toni nodded, and bent to lift her handbag out of the car. As she did so she became aware that they were being observed by a young girl, standing in the shadows of a huge oaken door. She was mostly in shadow, but Toni thought she looked about fourteen. Then she remembered. This would probably be Francesca, the Conde's daughter.
'Paul,' she murmured, looking at him and moving her head slightly in the child's direction.
Paul looked round. Then he nodded, and after lifting the cases out of the boot, he straightened and looking across at the girl, said: 'Hello, Francesca! Aren't you coming to greet us?'
Francesca moved her shoulders indolently, and came reluctantly out of her hiding place. Now, in the sunlight, Toni could see she was very dark-skinned, her hair long and black and plaited into a single braid. Dressed in a short flared skirt and a white blouse, slip- on sandals on her bare feet, she could have been any one of the young peasant girls they had encountered on their journey from Lisbon. Her face was quite attractive, but it had a petulant expression, and Toni thought with a feeling of apprehension that Francesca might prove to be more intimidating than her grandmother. She looked as though she was used to .having her own way, and as she was the only child in a house governed by an elderly relation she was very probably thoroughly spoilt.
Thrusting aside these uncharitable thoughts, Toni smiled at her now, but there was no answering smile, and instead Francesca put her hands on her hips, and said insolently:
'You were supposed to be here yesterday, primo Paul.'
Her English was very good, and Toni glanced at Paul to see what his reaction to this might be.
He merely shrugged and said: 'As my grandmother is the only person to whom I must excuse myself I don't think that remark was called for., Francesca. I see your manners don't improve.'
Francesca wrinkled her nose rudely, and turned away. Toni felt uncomfortable, even though Francesca was only a precocious child, and Paul, sensing this, said: 'Francesca! Kindly tell Jose we are here, and that the bags need seeing to. Would you also tell Luisa, and before you start giving me some more lip I should warn you that any more of it will find you being reported to your father - understood?'
Francesca shrugged her shoulders. 'My father is j away, so you would be disappointed,' she retorted.
'He'll return,' returned Paul smoothly. 'Now, jump to it!'
Francesca looked as though she might argue, but then she turned and went through the heavy door into the building.
'Charming,' said Toni dryly. 'Is she a sample of what I'm to expect?'
Paul chuckled. 'No, of course not. Francesca doesn't like it when I come here. She's a very possessive child, and when her father's away, as he often is, she monopolizes our grandmother's time. As we are the only grandchildren, naturally her nose is a little put out when I'm here.'
'I see.' Toni shook her head. 'I suppose when her father is around you're not quite such a nuisance.'
Paul nodded. 'Something like that,' he conceded. 'When Raoul's here no one else exists. She adores him. She's terribly jealous. I guess the fact that she never knew her mother is mainly responsible.'
'She didn't know her mother? Why?'
'She died when Francesca was only three years old. Naturally, she was too young to remember much about her. She had a nanny, you see, and only saw her mother at certain times of the day. Portuguese noble- women don't spend a great deal of time in the nursery, you know.'
Toni raised her eyebrows. 'They miss a lot, then. If, or when, I have children, I intend to care for them myself, whatever my circumstances.'
Paul laughed. 'Well, not all women are interested in • their children, you know.'
'I know,' Toni sighed. 'But it seems wrong to delegate a woman's natural instincts to someone else. I guess I'm old-fashioned.'
Paul smiled. 'Maybe you are. Maybe it's a good thing. I'm sure Grandmother will think so. She never got on with Elise.'
'Elise? Oh, was that your uncle's wife?'
'Yes. She was French. Anyway, we can talk about that at some other time. Let's go in.'
They entered by the west door into a high arched hall, which Toni realized immediately was the main hall of the castle. The stone walls were hung with wall tapestries, while there was a huge coat of arms emblazoning the wall above the fireplace. A carved wooden staircase was at the end of the hall and this led on to a gallery which ran the length of the hall. The stone floor had been highly polished and strewn with heavy colourful rugs, some of skin, that blended in perfectly with their surroundings. The furniture was all carved wood, heavy and completely in keeping with the rest of the decorations. Toni thought it was very beautiful, but not exactly luxurious. The lighting was provided by electric candelabra, set in sconces about the walls, and it seemed altogether medieval. She thought it was likely that the Conde, Paul's uncle, kept it this way purposely, when others might have tried to modernize it.
Paul was looking at her interestedly. 'Feudal, isn't it?' he remarked dryly. 'But don't be alarmed, it's not all like this.'
Then two people appeared, followed rather more slowly by Francesca. Toni guessed they must be Jose and Luisa. Jose was quite old, but Luisa was a middle- aged Portuguese, dressed completely in black, her skirts longer than any Toni had ever seen. To complete the picture, a bunch o
f keys hung from her belt, and Toni t had to hide the smile that sprang to her lips.
Paul spoke warmly to Jose as he passed on his way to get their suitcases, and then greeted Luisa enthusiastically.
'Janet,' he said, after he had spoken a few words of Portuguese to Luisa, 'this is Luisa. She's a veritable treasure. Not only does she supervise the servants with a will of iron, but she cooks like an angel! Luisa, este e minha noiva Janet West.'
Luisa smiled politely, gave a half-curtsey, and said: 'It is a pleasure to meet you, senhorita. I hope you will enjoy your stay at the castelo. If you will come with me, I will show you to your room. Senhor, will you wait for Jose? He will take your baggage to your quarters.'
Paul agreed, and gave Toni another encouraging wink. 'See you later, Janet,' he said, lightly, and so casually that Toni wondered whether he was used to intrigue. 'Come down when you're ready. Luisa will tell you where. Tell me, before you go, Luisa, how is my grandmother?'
Luisa lifted her shoulders eloquently. 'As well as can be expected, senhor,' she replied. 'She has had a little more trouble with her heart - and some rheumatics, but otherwise she continues quite well.' Toni felt relieved. If a servant could speak of the Condessa with such warmth in her voice she could not be so formidable.
She followed Luisa up the staircase and along the gallery, her eyes wide with enthusiasm. There was so much to see. The walls of the gallery were lined with portraits of previous Condes of Estrada, their features dark and forbidding, their clothes made of silks and satins, slashed with vivid colours. Toni stared at them curiously, hardly aware of Luisa's remarks concerning their journey, and the heat of the day. They passed through an arched doorway into a wide corridor and now Toni saw what Paul had said earlier. Here the floors were mosaic-tiled, which without detracting from the decor, nevertheless permitted a slight trend towards modernization. The stone walls had been panelled with rich dark wood, and tiny windows had been enlarged to let in more light.
They followed the corridor for some way before branching off to their left along another corridor. Toni tried to remember these turnings. She was trying to keep her bearings in relation to the great hall. At last Luisa halted before a white panelled door, and flinging it open said:
'Your rooms, senhorita!'
Toni stepped inside on to cool marble tiles, strewn as downstairs with soft, furry rugs. The shutters had been released from her windows, and a faint breeze from the sea stole through the open windows bringing the scent of salt air and seaweed. The furniture here » was modern Swedish wood, light coloured and comfortable. There was a low divan bed, a dressing table, fitted wardrobes against the curved outer wall, and an easy chair. Orange drapes hung at the windows, and the colour was repeated in the heavy embroidered silk bedspread.
Toni clasped her hands. 'I - er - it's marvellous!' she exclaimed, looking warmly at Luisa. 'It's just perfect!'
Luisa looked pleased. She crossed the room to a door at the far side, and opening it, said: 'Here is the bathroom. Now, I think you have everything here you need. Jose will bring your cases, and if you require them to be unpacked—'
'That won't be necessary,' replied Toni quickly, remembering that there might be some identification in her suitcases. 'Thank you. Oh, by the way, where do I go when I want to go down? I mean, do I go back to the hall?'
Luisa shook her head. 'No, senhorita. Instead of turning for the hall, turn the other way and you will come to a small staircase which leads down to the main rooms of the castelo. You understand, the castelo is too big for the family to occupy all the rooms. Most are dust- covered and locked, senhorita. If you follow my directions, the Senhor will find you, yes?'
'Thank you,' Toni smiled, and Luisa withdrew. After she had gone, Toni explored her domain further. From her windows she had an uninterrupted view of the shoreline, the rocky coast which hugged the waters of the Atlantic in its narrow coves and bays.
Then she left the window with a brief sigh, and looked into the bathroom. It was satisfactorily modern, and she smiled. She had never had a bathroom all to herself before.
A tap at her door heralded the arrival of Jose with her cases. She thanked him and after he had gone set about unpacking. It did not take long and afterwards she looked at her watch. It was a little after six, time for a bath before changing for dinner. She stripped off her travelling clothes, and studied her reflection in the long mirror of the wardrobe. She saw a tall, slim girl, with firmly rounded breasts and hips, and long slender legs. She knew she was attractive, and yet she could never understand that anyone could find her beautiful. Looks could be quite a drawback, she thought gloomily, remembering Miguel de Calle, and the boy from the restaurante. Then with a resigned sigh, she went for her bath. Afterwards, she dressed in a tunic of navy tricel, with ,a wide white Puritan type of collar, which was belied by the shortness of its skirt. She wound her hair on to the top of her head in a Grecian knot, and studied her appearance again. Did she look too modern, too careless to be the kind of girl Paul's grandmother would wish him to marry? Well, she would have to take her as she found her. After all, this was Paul's idea, and so long as he was satisfied, that should be all that mattered.
She left her bedroom before she could criticize herself still further. She followed the corridor back to the main one, and turned left instead of right, as Luisa had told her. Then she looked for the small staircase. Whether it was the atmosphere of the place, or just her own nerves, she didn't know, but she had the awful feeling that she had taken a wrong turning somewhere. She seemed to be getting nowhere, and she had an uncomfortable apprehensiveness of meeting a ghost or some- other strange being. She felt rather like Alice in Wonderland, and she wished she could meet somebody, some human, anybody!
Eventually, she stopped and looked back. She had not missed a turning, she couldn't have done. Maybe she had turned the wrong way in the beginning. Maybe she was in that part of the castelo that was unoccupied. What had Luisa said: dust-covered and locked. It was an eerie thought. But Toni refused to be panicked into shouting for help. Instead, she determinedly crossed to the nearest door and turned the handle briskly, peering into the room.
She saw a huge fourposter bed, illuminated by concealed lighting above the corniced walls; the bed was hung with tasselled bedcovers, from a central device which she realized provided a complete screen when let down; there was an enormous dressing table and wardrobe, but when a figure detached itself from a wickerwork bedroom chair, Toni gave an involuntary gasp of surprise.
'Boa noite, senhorita. Muito prazer em a ver. Entrar. Seja benvindo!'
Toni stifled an exclamation, and cautiously moved round the door. 'I - I'm afraid I don't speak much Portuguese, senhora,' she murmured awkwardly.
The old lady smiled. 'Ah, you must be Senhorita West, my grandson's fiancee.' Now she spoke in English.
'Oh, Condessa!' Toni swallowed hard. What had she done? 'I'm sorry to intrude! Yes, I'm - I'm Janet West!'
The old lady came forward, shaking her head, and reaching for Toni's hand. 'You do not intrude, my dear. I am glad of this opportunity to speak with you, without all the preliminaries of introduction, and so on. But I would like to know, are you lost? Or did you come to find me?'
'I'm afraid I was looking for a staircase, leading down to the apartments which are in use. I was afraid I was in the part of the castelo which is unused. I thought if I looked into a room ...' Her voice trailed away, and she linked her fingers together nervously,- What a ghastly thing to have happened! To be confronted by the one person she was here to impress, without Paul's reassuring presence!
But the Dowager Condessa della Maria Estrada did not strike Toni as being a particularly frightening person, and certainly not the martinet that Paul had made her out to be if she was any judge. Unless she was completely mistaken, which she supposed was possible.
'Did you have a good journey?' the old lady was asking, indicating that she should be seated.
Toni perched on the edge of the chair, looking about t
he Condessa's apartments with interest. Here was evidence of the old castelo again, no modern furnishings for the Condessa; she obviously liked old things.
'I am almost ready to go down myself,' went on Paul's grandmother. 'I rest during the afternoons, so I was not there to greet you on your arrival. You must have thought us very uncharitable.'
'Oh, no! That is - Paul's cousin met us. Francesca.'
'Ah, Francesca. And what did you think of her, senhorita?'
Toni didn't know what she was expected to answer. She felt sure the Condessa would see through any subterfuge she might adopt. 'She - well, she seems a rather lonely child.'
The Condessa smiled, switching on a standard lamp and by so doing adding a golden glow to the rich texture of the polished wood. 'I can tell from your discomfiture you thought Francesca rude and unwelcoming!' she said candidly.
Toni flushed. 'Oh, I - no, Condessa. I'm sure I didn't mean to give that impression—'
'Do not be alarmed, senhorita - or may I call you Janet?' Toni nodded, and she continued: 'Francesca is rather a problem child, my dear. Her mother was killed when she was only three years old, and I am afraid my son does not spend as much time with her as perhaps he should. He spends much of his time in Lisbon, burying himself in his work. He has little time for her and consequently I spoil her utterly.' She shrugged. 'It is difficult. The child had a governess, but Mademoiselle was less than useless, so we had to get rid of her. Now she is left to' run wild, with this result!'
'I see.' Toni inclined her head. 'Would it not be better to get someone else to care for her, someone who could handle her?'
'No doubt it would. But who? My dear, we are quite isolated here and young people want the life of the cities these days.' She sighed. 'To Raoul she is without fault, and indeed, when he is around, her behaviour much improves.'
Toni wondered. She thought Francesca's father was blind to his daughter's shortcomings. As he saw her so little, the child would grow up thinking herself perfect in his eyes, which was always bad for the child anyway. With her interest in children, Toni thought it would be hard not to voice her opinions.
