Dear Conquistador

by Margery Hilton

  ‘I think that’s a fairly universal failing,’ she defended. ‘It isn’t confined to us.’

  ‘We will leave the universal aspect out of it for the moment,

  I think, and confine the discussion to us.’ ‘Us?’ Her glance swept sideways.

  He gave an almost imperceptible nod. ‘Narrowing our canvas, metaphorically speaking. I am interested in the exchange of comparisons regarding our diverse temperaments.’

  ‘Do you think we should exchange such comparisons?’ she said after a long hesitation. ’

  ‘You mean on a personal basis?’ He took a bend at fifty and the car held the road effortlessly. ‘You object?’

  ‘N-no, I don’t object.’ She stared straight ahead, ‘But I am not very sure what you mean by a personal basis, senor.’

  ‘Our assessments of - I shall say “foreigners”, although I dislike the term - must be based on our reactions to them and their culture, and coloured by the impression we gain of their behaviour. Impressions which can be misleading. You agree, senorita?’

  ‘Oh, yes. Entirely.’

  ‘Good! Then you realize that discussion and exchange of viewpoint between differing nationalities is essential to promote clearer understanding. True, senorita?’

  ‘Yes, senor,’ she said after a moment’s hesitation while the suspicion came that he was indulging his sardonic humour at her expense. Suddenly she twisted round to face him and burst out impulsively: ‘You consider me too outspoken, don’t you, Senor Conde? You are trying to tell me tactfully not to opine in anger but adopt a more rational attitude, because of this afternoon. Well,’ she added firmly, ‘I did not intend to give offence to you personally, but I haven’t changed my mind. ’

  Not a flicker disturbed the aristocratic lines of his profile. He said, ‘I should be disappointed if you had.’

  She was startled. ‘Disappointed? I don’t understand.’

  ‘I dislike sycophancy, almost as much as I respect honesty,’ he said calmly, ‘therefore, although your views constitute sheer heresy, I endeavour to understand that you are quite genuine in your wish to avoid personal offence.’

  ‘Oh, I do!’ she cried. ‘It’s all a matter of principle. I—’ ‘Yes. The principles of life, particularly when the underdog is concerned. That is the one thing guaranteed to set the most stolid of Englishmen aflame. He will remove his blinkers, set forth for foreign shores and proceed to point out the errors of his hosts’ way, completely oblivious to the fact that equal injustice exists at his own front door.’

  ‘Oh, no! I’m sure we don’t!’ she said hotly. ‘I’m sure that

  is exaggeration. ’

  ‘Is it?’

  ‘It’s biased, put like that.’

  ‘I am not so sure, even though I am not disputing your genuine belief in your motives. If you will consider it you will find there is truth in what I say. ’

  The impulse was strong to deny and protest, but she caught in his tone an echo that recalled a discussion between her parents only a short time before she left home. For a moment the phrases came back as clearly as though her mother were there at her side, frowning over her sewing as she exclaimed: ‘I don’t see why we can’t mind our own business for a change and keep out of international troubles’ and her father immediately launching into explanations of just why Britain was committed to following her current foreign policy at all costs. Hilary had giggled, as she often did when her parents had their comfortable little domestic differences, and promptly forgotten it - until a quirk of memory unexpectedly turned it up in somewhat different circumstances. Now it had the same effect on her, making her forget touchy national pride and want to laugh. Biting her lip, she denied that impulse as well and assumed a sober expression.

  ‘Senor, is this a declaration of war?’ she asked gently.

  ‘It hardly seems a declaration of better understanding! Nevertheless, it appears to be causing you some amusement,’ he observed dryly.

  ‘Actually, it isn’t.’ She risked another sidelong look, safe in the assumption that his attention must be occupied mainly by driving. ‘We’re nearly there, aren’t we?’

  ‘A few miles, three at the most,’ he said. ‘Why, is something concerning you?’

  ‘No, not really.’ She subsided back, aware now of the people at journey’s end crowding back upon the scene of her thoughts and wishing that she could push them away for a little longer. ‘I - I hope they won’t think my behaviour too bad this afternoon. ’

  ‘Because you fled the corrida?’

  ‘Not exactly. But perhaps I should have gone back, or waited for them.’

  ‘I have already taken care of that,’ he said coolly. ‘And it has also occurred to me how remiss I have been. ’

  ‘In what way?’ She was surprised.

  ‘We have made no formal arrangements for your free time. You should have reminded me,’ he added with a touch of unconscious arrogance that made Hilary smile secretly to

  herself.

  ‘We did leave that in the air,’ she recalled. ‘It was to be arranged to our mutual agreement. ’

  ‘We had better leave it in the air no longer,’ he said firmly. ‘When do you wish to have your free time? At the weekend?’

  ‘If that is convenient, but it seems to have worked out already that I have a great deal of leisure. Joaquin spends half of each day with his tutor, and being companion to Juanita isn’t like work at all,’ she added.

  ‘Nevertheless, I insist that you have time when you feel completely freed from any demands we may make of you. We will work out a suitable time-table when we return to Lima.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, then forgot formality. ‘But I don’t object in the least to it being elastic, senor.’

  ‘Elastic?’

  He sounded puzzled, and she said quickly: ‘I mean that if I was needed any special week-end I’d be quite happy to fit in with the family arrangements. Equally, if the occasion should arise when I especially wanted some free time in the middle of the week I should like to think that I could ask you let me re-arrange the routine. Not that it’s likely to happen,’ she added, ‘but just in case.’

  ‘Just in case you form a rather special friendship in Lima? Yes, I quite understand, senorita.’ He paused, and swung the car into the narrow side turning that led to the Navarre place. ‘But I feel I must warn you before you venture forth in your impetuous British way to seek out new friends. There is this proposed visit to the flamenco, to begin with, which my secretary suggested. It would have been wiser if you had not accepted it. ’

  A small cold shock ran through Hilary. ‘You do not approve, senor??

  ‘I do not.’ His voice had gone crisp. ‘I am well aware that you consider it perfectly all right to accept an invitation from a total stranger to accompany him alone. But not with Ramon, and here.’

  ‘And what’s wrong with Ramon?’ she demanded. ‘I’m sure you don’t employ anyone of a disreputable nature.’

  ‘I do not speak in a personal way of Ramon. Of course he is of unquestionable integrity, but I am trying to tell you that what would be perfectly acceptable in your own country, or even here with someone of your own or American nationality, is not acceptable in our society. We do not respect a young woman who forms casual relationships with one of the

  opposite sex and frequents cafe society.’

  She sighed. ‘Yes, I know. Dona Elena also warned me about this, only the other day. ’ She hesitated, looking towards him. ‘Senor, I do appreciate your concern for me, but unless I get to know people and mix with them how am I to see the real country and understand the people? I want to get behind the facade the tourists see, not be cloistered so safely I will know little more of this fascinating country when I get home than I do now. And I can look after myself, senor,’ she added softly.

  ‘ Can you? I wonder. ’

  There was an abstraction in his tone that surprised her, and she realized that his concern was something more than courteous responsibility for a new me
mber of his household. He sounded genuinely worried, and the thought made Hilary forget her hard-won ability to dissemble.

  She said hastily: ‘Oh yes - don’t worry. I have an instinct about people and as long as I follow it I’m all right. It only let me down once in my whole life,’ she added with a wry smile, ‘and I think it was because I wouldn’t listen to it.’

  ‘It would have to be a man, of course, this isolated instance?’ he said dryly.

  ‘How did you guess?’ In the shadows, her mouth curved with bitterness, then relaxed into resignation. ‘So I’m not likely to be deaf a second time.’

  ‘I should not be so sure of that, senorita,’ he said coolly. ‘There is wisdom in logic but rarely in instinct.’

  She sighed and stayed silent, thinking sadly of Juanita and the promise she had made to her, a promise that was going to be more difficult to keep than she had imagined. But for once the antagonism the Conde so often invoked was slow to spark. It was easy to tell herself that he had no right to play the autocrat with her and criticize what she chose to do in her personal life. But she couldn’t deny that he was proving a man of integrity who held himself responsible for the welfare of his family and household, and he had chosen to extend that responsibility to herself. Her parents would approve, she knew. In fact, they would feel a great deal happier if they knew just how strictly she was going to be protected — if the Conde had his way!

  She said in a musing voice: ‘You see, senor, I instinctively thought of Ramon as part of the life here, and so I was delighted when he suggested taking me to the flamenco. I’m looking forward to it immensely.’

  ‘You care for our music and dance, senorita?’

  ‘I love it.’ She did not have to instil false enthusiasm into her tone, for it was true, she did love the fire and colour of the flamenco. She turned to glance at him, wondering if she dare make the suggestion that Juanita might come with her, but before she could venture to do so he was braking the car to a halt and turning to face her.

  ‘Why did you not mention this to me? I would have made arrangements for you to visit the flamenco. For that matter, I would have escorted you myself.’

  ‘You, senor?’ A small thrill of pleasure was unexpectedly intense. He nodded gravely, and she could not help smiling at a sudden prompting of the logic he apparently wished her to employ. ‘But how could I ask you, senor? I would have offended convention again, quite unwittingly.’

  ‘It would be somewhat different in this case,’ he told her with unconscious arrogance. ‘Meanwhile, please take care in future over your acceptance of invitations, particularly from whom you accept them. ’

  To her own surprise she found herself meekly acquiescing, and saw the small, approving inclination of his head before he got out of the car.

  Darkness had come almost unnoticed, and the lanterns glowed gaily across the gardens. Some of them were nestled in the branches of the trees, others were strung like a radiant necklace above the patio, and a cluster of them were reflected in shimmering rose and green and pearl on the surface of the pool. They lent a magic to the night, transforming the silent, deserted gardens into beckoning havens for romance, and a tiny sigh escaped Hilary as the Conde cupped a firm hand beneath her elbow as she alighted from the car.

  The clasp stayed, warm and guiding as he walked with her towards the house, and suddenly she was experiencing a strange confliction of impulses. One was to find something to say, quickly, wittily, and with laughter; the other was to stay silent, stay close, and simply enjoy this delightful intimate nearness to a man who was proving to hold a much more subtle attraction than she had realized. Not yet prepared to analyse her thoughts,, she waited until they had passed out of the shadows under the pergolas and had reached the patio before she stopped. ‘Senor ...?’

  ‘Yes?’ Perforce, he also halted.

  ‘I just wondered ... ’ She sought the shadowy planes of his features and was aware of diffidence as she encountered his questioning gaze. ‘May I ask a favour, senor??

  ‘It depends what it is,’ he said lightly.

  ‘About the flamenco. I wondered - could Juanita come with me?’

  She held her breath, wondering if it were her imagination or if his dark eyes were hardening with displeasure. Then she saw the glint of very white teeth as he smiled.

  ‘I think that could be arranged. Especially as I too have a request to make of you.’

  ‘Me?’ Half prepared for anything from downright suspicion to outright refusal, she felt a sense of relief that was quite out of proportion. It made her laugh softly as she exclaimed: ‘Thank you - but of course! Anything - as long as it doesn’t include taking Joaquin to the corrida!’

  ‘No, it has nothing to do with the corrida.’

  He looked down at her unguarded expression of pleasure and some of the amusement faded from his face. He touched her arm, indicating that they enter the house. ‘But it can wait for a little while. I only trust that the flamenco will find favour with you, senorita. Perhaps,’ he added in low mocking tones, ‘it may prove more appealing than the skill of the matador - and the misdeeds of my renowned ancestors!’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  RAMON was the first person they saw as they came into the light of the outer sala. He looked surprised, then flustered, and hurried forward.

  ‘ Senor! We were not sure if you were - they have commenced cena. But I will tell Senora Navarre that—’

  The Conde checked him with a brief gesture. ‘No need, thank you, Ramon.’ He turned to Hilary with the small gesture of indication that she was coming to know so well, and wordlessly she moved at his side in the direction of the dining-room. Somehow it was easier to follow where he led and as he decided...

  There was much chatter and gaiety in the big dark-panelled room. The sombre tones of heavy carvings, aged ebony and ancestral oil paintings were contrasted strongly by the glittering jewellery and colours of the ladies’ gowns. At least twenty-five people were gathered at the long polished table that gleamed with silver and crystal, and Hilary was suddenly conscious of the voices stilling and eyes turning to her as she entered. Instinctively she felt that they noted that she still wore the sleeveless coral slip of a dress she had donned to go to the corrida, and the Conde his lightweight town suit. But if he were conscious of any such notice he did not allow it to disturb his assured bearing. Still with the little prompting touch on Hilary’s arm, he steered her firmly to where Dona Elena and her hostess, Senora Navarre, were sitting.

  He took each of their hands, raising them in turn to his lips and smiling a smile which would have taken an extremely hardened feminine heart to resist, and said smoothly: ‘A thousand pardons, senoras. You will forgive us that we arrive so. But the senorita was indisposed at the corrida, and so it was necessary that she seek calm for a little while. And now, she is much distressed that we have interrupted comida, attired as we are.’ He bowed his head, and his closing words were lost in the two ladies’ instant response.

  All smiles for him, nevertheless there was genuine concern in their expressions as they made voluble protestations to his apologies and turned to Hilary. They were deeply grieved that she had felt indisposed. It was of course the heat and the noise. The little senorita was not yet used to the climate. Was she sure she was quite recovered... ?

  It was a little overwhelming and Hilary began to feel like a fraud. However, there was nothing she could do but smile and thank them, and take the place at table that was made for her.

  The ebb and flow of conversation was resumed, and, probably because of convenience in serving the food, she found the Conde seated next to her, almost immediately on the right of their host and hostess. A fresh carafe of wine was brought and a scalloped silver dish of seafood to begin with, and this was followed by barbecued chicken and mounds of white fluffy rice with a rich spicy sauce.

  After a small, polite interchange of pleasantries with her table neighbour to her left Hilary fell silent. She had a great deal to think of now as she looked
back over the day, and already it seemed ages since it began. But she suspected that it was really beginning now for the assembled company. According to Bruce Gilford there was to be dancing and high jinks! Quite a party. Now she realized that the siesta had its benefit!

  ‘You are very quiet! ’

  The Conde’s voice made her start guiltily. She said, ‘I’m sorry, senor. I was thinking. Did you say something?’

  ‘No.’ He reached for the carafe and topped up her glass. ‘Do not apologize. It is quite a refreshing change to find a woman who can appreciate silence.’

  She felt the warm colour of pleasure come to her cheeks and looked down into her glass.

  ‘Fruit?’ he queried softly.

  She hesitated over the heaped basket he drew forward, looking wonderingly at the exotic strangers among the more familiar grapes and peaches and glossy scarlet apples.

  He said gravely: ‘You wish to sample the things new and strange that our land has to offer. Try chirimoya, it has white, very sweet flesh. Or this, the granadilla, it is the fruit of the passion flower. ’

  The sense of word association was suddenly a little quelling and she selected a chirimoya, discovering that it was as he said - very sweet and white, almost too sweet.

  The Conde took a peach for himself, peeling it deftly with the small silver fruit knife by his plate. Again, as when in the car, she found herself watching his hands, the long dexterous fingers, the fine-boned lines and beautifully kept nails. The fingers stilled, and something made her glance up.

  Her own survey was being returned, and there was a quality in the dark, considering eyes that met her like an impact. Unsteadily, she forced a smile and exclaimed: ‘I - I could never peel a peach like that - not without getting bathed in the juice.’

  ‘There are more agreeable mediums in which to bathe, I agree,’ he said with a hint of amusement, ‘but a man must never allow himself to be mastered by a mere globule of fruit. ’

  She smiled again and rather hastily reached out for an apple, which was easy to deal with, and firmly refused to allow her gaze to be drawn back into that disturbing orbit. Perhaps it was the wine that was having this heady effect, or maybe she’d had too much sun today, she decided with an inward giggle at herself. She sought to attract the attention of Juanita, who was sitting farther down at the opposite side of the table, but Juanita seemed to be elsewhere - at least in spirit