Sweet Revenge

by Anne Mather

  The Condessa frowned. 'What is that supposed to mean, Francesca?' while Toni gave Paul a helpless glance.

  'Senhorita West and my father had a little argument,' replied Francesca, in a smug way.

  The Condessa looked at Toni. 'This is so?'

  Toni moved awkwardly. 'It was nothing, Condessa. Merely a difference of opinion.'

  'Indeed? And perhaps concerning myself?'

  Toni gave Francesca an exasperated look. What was she supposed to say now? As though repenting a little, Francesca interposed: 'No, Avo, it was not to do with you.'

  The Condessa looked relieved, and Toni looked down at her plate. It seemed that even Francesca had a streak of decency in her when it came to her grandmother.

  After dinner, Paul and his grandmother were again esconced together on the long couch in the lounge, but Toni was restless. She looked thoughtfully at Francesca, and said:

  'Do you want to go for a walk?'

  Francesca looked at her grandmother, saw her expectant expression, and nodded abruptly. Toni collected a cardigan, and they left the castle by the door Toni had used that morning. Once outside the courtyard, Francesca turned away from the beach, and led Toni through the moonlit formal gardens flanking the castle on three sides. Here there were flower gardens, and herbal gardens, rose and vegetable gardens, arbours bright with flowering bougainvillea and dripping with magnolia petals. The sky above them was hung with stars, and even Francesca's uncommunicative presence could not prevent Toni's enjoyment of the night air. The scent of the pine trees was intoxicating, while the roar of the sea was a crescendo in their ears.

  They halted in an arbour where a stone seat surrounded a marble fountain which spouted its unending stream of water unceasingly. Toni sat down on the seat, and looked up at Francesca reflectively.

  'Why did you do it?' she asked.

  Francesca shrugged. 'What?'

  'You know - tell your grandmother that the argument I had with your father was not about her.'

  Francesca shrugged. 'Whatever else I may do, I do not hurt my grandmother heedlessly,' she replied. 'Do not imagine I did it for you, senhorita. I do not care what happens to you!'

  Toni sighed. 'I see. Well, thank you anyway. It got me out of an awkward situation, even if you were directly responsible for that situation.'

  Francesca allowed her fingers to trail in the waters of the fountain. 'Tell me,' she said, surprisingly, 'do you love Paul?'

  Toni was glad the night hid her blushes. 'I - yes, I suppose so.'

  Francesca straightened, wiping her hand on the skirt of her dress. 'Aren't you sure?'

  'All right, yes, I am.' Toni was irritated.

  'Good.' Francesca looked at her piercingly. 'Just don't get any other ideas, will you, senhorita?'

  'I don't know what you mean!'

  'Yes, you do, I mean - my father!'

  'What!'

  Francesca looked a trifle mocking. 'Don't pretend you don't find him attractive!'

  Toni stood up. 'Your mind appals me!' She shook her head. 'It's more devious than a maze!'

  'Mas' I am usually right.' Francesca wrinkled her nose. 'But in any case I do not think I have to worry. You are not the type to appeal to my father. He already finds Laura Passamentes more than a distraction.'

  Toni pulled out her cigarettes. 'And you don't mind that?' she asked curiously, extracting a cigarette.

  'Who? Laura Passamentes? Of course not. My father is of the age where he is too young to remain a widower, and too old to fall in love. Laura Passamentes is herself a widow, with a boy only a little younger than me. If they marry, the situation will be ideal!'

  Toni felt nauseated suddenly. To have this thirteen- year-old girl standing here, talking so callously about her father and his needs, his emotional needs moreover, was positively sickening.

  Francesca looked scornfully at her. 'You find it distasteful, I can tell,' she said mockingly. 'Why? Are you English so adept at choosing your marriage partner that you cannot countenance a marriage of convenience?'

  'I think you talk a lot of rubbish,' retorted Toni, with distaste. »

  'Well, be warned!' said Francesca with more violence than she had shown so far.

  'I don't need the warning,' retorted Toni angrily. 'I'm not interested in your father one tiny bit, and I can't imagine why you should think it's necessary to tell me this. Unless you have your own doubts!'

  Francesca gave a scornful laugh. 'Oh, no, senhorita, I have no doubts,' she returned impudently.

  The next morning Toni woke early again. Looking at her watch, she saw that it was only a little after six- thirty, but she was no longer tired and she refused to lie in bed just thinking of the beautiful day outside, when she could be part of it.

  She got up, and rummaging in a drawer produced what she was looking for, a dark blue one-piece bathing suit. There was also a bikini hidden in her suitcase, but she knew they were forbidden on public beaches. Not that the beach below the castelo was public, but she did not want to antagonize the Conde still further. She put on the swimsuit, and a dark blue and green towelling beach dress, which barely covered her thighs. Sandals on her feet, and a towel about her neck, she descended the staircase silently, emerging into the courtyard without mishap. She did not know how to reach the door Francesca had used, so instead she walked out through the main entrance and round the castle walls to the stretch of grass which led to the cliff- top.

  The beach appeared deserted, and she went down the steps, revelling in the new-found freedom. The sun was already beginning to warm the cool air, and she felt vigorously healthy. On the sand, she stepped out of her sandals, shed the beach dress and towel, and ran eagerly into the creaming waves. The chill had her gasping, but it was wonderful, and she swam out eagerly, her hair divided into two bunches with the elastic bands soon soaking about her shoulders. After a while she swam back to the beach, and walked up the sand wringing the water out of her hair. She was completely unaware of another presence until the man's shadow fell across her path. She almost jumped out of her skin, and she said coldly:

  'Must you continually appear without warning? Like some evil genie out of a bottle!'

  He half-smiled, rather mockingly, and said, 'Desculpe, senhorita.'

  She looked at him for a moment, registering everything about him from the close-fitting dark denim trousers he was wearing together with a mustard- coloured knitted nylon shirt, to the mat of dark hairs which was faintly visible above the opened buttons of the shirt. The sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, and a gold watch glinted among the dark hairs of his wrist. Round his neck he had a slender gold chain, suspended from which was a circular medallion. Toni felt the magnetism of his attraction like a living thing around her, and shivering, she turned away, picking up the towel and beginnning to dry herself.

  'Did you enjoy your swim?' he asked lazily, propping one foot up on a rock and gazing out to sea for a few moments.

  'Yes, thank you.' Toni was short.

  He half-smiled again. 'You appear to have done so,' he murmured, surveying her intently.

  Toni hastily donned the beach dress. It was not very satisfactory as a covering, but at least it gave her a little more confidence. She was completely unaware that standing there, slim yet curvaceous, in the dark blue swimsuit, her hair tied in the elastic bands, with no make-up to spoil her faintly tanning complexion, she looked little more than Francesca's age.

  'What have you come for, senhor?' she asked, linking her fingers together.

  'Must there be a reason?'

  Toni turned away. 'I would think so, senhor. I can't believe that overnight your opinion of me has changed so utterly.'

  He straightened, thrusting his hands into his trousers pockets. 'You are very terse, senhorita.. Do not Englishwomen accept a man's presence without question?'

  Toni glanced at him. 'No. Not when the man is Conde Raoul Felipe Vincente della Maria Estrada,' she retorted.

  'You remembered my name, senhorita. That is interesting. An
d now I have been told yours - by Francesca. Janet West, is it not?'

  Toni did not reply. The Conde extracted his cigarette case and opened it. He studied Toni deliberately for a mogient, then put a cigarette between his lips and lit it from the combined lighter. Toni turned away. He was just trying to infuriate her, and he was not going to get away with it.

  She picked up her towel and sandals, and began to walk up the beach away from him. As before he halted her. 'Senhorita!'

  She sighed and turned. 'What is it?'

  'I am giving a small dinner party this evening, for a few friends. Naturally you and Paul will attend as usual. However, I would suggest you tried to show a little less antagonism when you speak to me. I do not care to have to parry your kind of verbal sparring in front of my friends.'

  Toni stared at him, her lips pressed together. Then without another word she marched away up the beach. Oh, he was insufferable! Absolutely insufferable!'

  During the late afternoon Paul took Toni into Estrada, the small town a couple of miles down the coast where most of the trade of the district was executed. There was a small market place where one could buy anything from fish to a carved linen chest, while rich rolls of material caught Toni's eye. She stopped to admire the soft velvets and satins and chiffons, wondering who bought such extravagant luxuries in this place. Deciding she might as well have something with which to fill her time, she bought two lengths to make herself two dresses. One was black velvet and the other apricot chiffon, and after buying cottons and zips, and some lining material, she felt well pleased with the results of their expedition.

  Then Paul took her down to see the harbour where the fish was auctioned when the boats came in. The women carried the fish in flat-bottomed baskets on their heads, and Toni winced when she thought of the smell of their hair. Women stood about talking, watching the two strangers with interest. They wore gold rings in their ears and brightly coloured dresses, and Toni thought it was all very picturesque. She half-wished she had brought a camera to record the scene for dull days back in her bed-sitter in London.

  Then it was time to return to the castelo and Toni thought uneasily of the dinner party ahead of them. She was not looking forward to it at all, and considered crying off with a headache. Despite the fact that the headache was real enough, she would not admit defeat and instead took two aspirins before going for her bath.

  Afterwards she studied the contents of her wardrobe with some misgivings. Most of her clothes were very casual, for she had not thought to be attending a formal dinner party with a Portuguese count and his family. However, there was a red embroidered cotton with a roll collar on which were sewn dozens of tiny sequins, and she thought it would do admirably. It had a low back, a short semi-flared skirt, and a close-fitting bodice. She left her long hair loose for a change, and after putting on a little eye make-up and a colourless lipstick she left her room.

  She descended the staircase without meeting anyone, and when she reached the small hall she heard the buzz of conversation which exuded from the lounge. She stood for a moment, listening to all the strange voices and panicking a little at the role she was expected to play. Then, with a mental stiffening of her shoulders, she pushed open the door and entered the room.

  Her first impression was that the room was filled with people, but as faces distinguished themselves she saw that there were really only four strangers, apart from the Conde and Condessa, Paul and Francesca. There was also a boy of Francesca's age who looked rather pale and thin.

  Her second impression was the most disturbing one. All the women wore black or black and white in varying degrees. Her own red dress with its reasonably short skirt stood out like a colour supplement amongst the regular copies of The Times, and her face suffused with colour.

  As though sensing her embarrassment, the old Condessa came over to her smiling warmly.

  'Ah, Janet, my dear child! We were beginning to wonder where you were.'

  Toni lifted her shoulders, her silvery hair swinging silkily. 'I apologise, Condessa. I'm afraid I took longer than I expected. I hope I haven't kept you waiting.'

  'Only a moment,' replied the Condessa smoothly. 'Come, let me introduce you.'

  Toni glanced Paul's way, and he nodded approvingly. Her eyes flickered over the immaculately clad figure of the Conde, pausing only momentarily to register that he was not alone. A small, delicately made woman stood beside him, her fingers lingering caressingly on the expensive material of his dinner jacket. She was looking up at him, completely oblivious of the other members of the company, and he was inclining his head towards her to listen to what she was saying. His eyes met Toni's, and she immediately looked away. He would not see that she was at all affected by his antagonism.

  The Condessa was introducing her to a Senhor Vicarra. He was an elderly man, more fitted to be a friend of the Condessa's than her son, but there was a younger couple who were introduced as Senhor and Senhora Primeiro. Senhora Primeiro seemed very friendly and after a servant had provided Toni with a drink Isobel Primeiro said:

  'And how are you enjoying your stay in Portugal, senhorita?'

  Toni gathered her thoughts and smiled. 'Oh, very much, thank you, senhora. It's a very beautiful country. Do you live near here, too?'

  'Yes, at Cossima. a few miles north of here. You must get Paul to bring you on a visit to our estate some time. We grow flowers, and it can be most interesting.'

  'Thank you,' said Toni politely, sipping her martini. 'But I don't think Paul and I will be staying much longer.'

  'What!' Paul joined them. 'Honey, of course we're staying for a while. We can't just hurry away almost as soon as we arrive.'

  Toni compressed her lips, quelling the retort she wanted to make. 'You're forgetting my job, darling,' she said warningly, her voice cold.

  The old Condessa smiled roguishly. 'But your job is only important so long as you and Paul are unmarried,' she said. 'And I'm sure Paul is thinking of changing that status in the not so very distant future, eh, Paul?'

  Paul smiled too in a smug way that infuriated Toni. 'Naturally, Grandmother, I can hardly wait to make Janet my wife.' He caught her arm possessively. 'She's a beautiful girl, as I'm sure you've noticed.'

  Toni longed to wrench her arm out of his grasp. She had never felt so angry or so impotent. He must know he was embarrassing her, and there was an underlying note of truth in his voice that did not go unnoticed.

  Another man joined the group accompanied by a small dark woman dressed elegantly in a black silk sheath that moulded her small beautifully proportioned body. Toni was never so glad to see the Conde, although she was well aware of his motives for intervening.

  The old Condessa looked dismayed. 'My dear Laura,' she exclaimed, 'how rude you must think me! Of course, you have not yet met our other young guest, Janet. Janet, my dear, this is Senhora Passamentes, a great friend of ours.'

  Toni was relieved to release herself from Paul's grasp and go forward to take the other woman's languidly proffered hand. As she did so she looked fully at Laura Passamentes for the first time and felt a faint twinge of recognition. She frowned, as she became aware that Laura was looking at Jier strangely too, and then the moment was over and she forgot about it.

  'How do you do?' said Laura politely.

  Toni determined to make an effort to be friendly. 'I'm fine, thank you. The boy with Francesca - is he your son, senhora?'

  Laura's eyes flickered. 'Yes, that is Estevan, senhorita.' Then she looked up at Raoul della Maria Estrada, as though bored by the encounter.

  Toni became aware of the interested speculation of the rest of the group, and decided she was not going to get anywhere with this kind of conversation. She glanced at the Conde almost compulsively, seeing the half-mocking lift to his mouth, and felt furiously angry. Obviously, he had taken pains to inform Laura Passa- mentes of his own feelings towards his nephew's fiancee. As other members of the party began to speak again, Paul joined her.

  'Heavy going, isn't it?' he re
marked laughingly. 'I shouldn't attempt to catechize the Senhora. She and the Conde are like that.' He twisted his two forefingers together. 'I guess she doesn't like me either.'

  Toni shrugged her slim shoulders and gave him a cold glance. 'You yourself don't exactly pull your punches, do you? How dare you make such blatant comments about our marriage!'

  'Ssh!' Paul glanced round apprehensively. 'You know perfectly well that I have to behave like that.'

  Toni looked sceptical. 'I'm beginning to think you really intend getting me into a situation where there is no retreat.'

  'Aw, come on, Ton - Janet!' He flushed annoyedly. 'Look, let's keep these kind of arguments for when we're alone!'

  Toni finished her drink and accepted another. She felt a kind of awful fatalism overtake her, and determinedly swallowed the martini in one gulp, ridding herself temporarily of her feelings of guilt and unease.

  'Steady on,' exclaimed Paul, in a low angry tone, as his uncle paused beside them. The Conde studied Toni deliberately for a moment.

  'So, senhorita,' he murmured lazily, 'you do not drink.'

  Toni stared at him, then said: 'Give me a cigarette, Paul.'

  Paul brought out his cigarettes with angry, jerky movements, but Toni didn't particularly care if she was annoying him. Then to her relief a manservant appeared to inform them that dinner was now ready.

  The long table was fully occupied this evening, and Toni found herself between Paul and Estevan Passamentes. The boy seemed more friendly than his mother, and Toni found herself talking to him quite naturally. His English was very good, and she ignored Francesca, who was glowering at her from Estevan's other side. Paul seemed sullen and withdrawn, and she could only assume she had succeeded in arousing his real anger this time.

  When the meal was over, they adjourned to the lounge again, and Laura Passamentes was prevailed upon to entertain them. Toni, sitting on a low couch beside Isabel Primeiro, wondered how Laura was going to do this. Estevan was despatched from the room, and returned a moment later carrying a guitar case from which Laura took a beautifully polished instrument. It seemed obvious that her assumed reluctance to agree to the Conde's suggestion had merely been a kind of pretence.