‘Will you examine the well now, Señor Perez?’ Maria Teresa demanded, gazing around anxiously at the waiting villagers.
‘Yes,’ he said, shooting a glance at Annalisa.
‘A well! That really is more than I deserve!’
The look Ramon slanted at her suggested she might be right.
‘It will be an attractive feature in the courtyard, as well as performing a practical function,’ he said.
‘When did this happen?’ she said incredulously when they turned a corner and she saw what the villagers had built for her.
‘Is it a good surprise?’ he murmured.
‘How did you keep it hidden from me?’
‘Camouflaged with trimmings…think of it as a gift.’
‘Another gift,’ she said, remembering the shirt. ‘I really can’t accept anything for myself until everyone knows about the back pay.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Ramon said, holding up his hands. A hush fell as he began to speak, then one or two people interrupted.
‘What are they saying?’ Annalisa demanded anxiously as she watched the negative gestures amongst the villagers.
‘No one is prepared to accept back pay,’ he translated for her.
‘But they must—’
‘You can’t force them to take the money,’ he pointed out. ‘They say the success of the finca is reward enough. They are pleased to have this opportunity to repay your father’s generosity.’
Annalisa’s mouth opened and shut again. She was running out of arguments, running out of ghosts… Turning round to include everyone in her reply, she said, ‘Gracias…le agradecen cada uno—’
‘I’m impressed,’ Ramon growled. ‘You’re a quick study.’
‘I have a good teacher.’
‘And you’re a great student,’ he said in a soft drawl that made her feel warm all over.
Then Maria Teresa intruded unwittingly as she cried excitedly, ‘And now the well, Señorita Wilson.’
As the crowd parted Annalisa clapped her hands with delight. ‘It’s lovely! Thank you all so much! And, thank you, Ramon!’ Throwing her arms around his waist, she hugged him impulsively. But the warm, hard feel of him was dangerously seductive, and as a cheer went up she ricocheted back in time to hear his mellow voice.
‘Maria Teresa—el honor es el tuyo.’
Grabbing her by the wrist, Maria Teresa pointed to the sturdy black handle.
‘What?’ Annalisa mouthed to Ramon.
‘You have to draw the first bucket of water,’ he said, lacing his explanation with a slow-burning smile. ‘For good luck.’
But the handle turned far too easily. ‘Is it dry?’ she whispered anxiously to Ramon.
The corners of his mouth tugged down, as if there could be a problem. ‘I’m sure there’s something down there,’ he said, frowning as he leaned over to peer into the well shaft.
‘But if the bucket’s empty—’
He straightened up and speared a look at her. ‘Break the mould, Annalisa. Take a chance.’
The timbre of his voice was low and challenging. She lobbed the dare straight back. ‘OK. If you’re so confident, come here and help me.’
‘My pleasure,’ he said, moving through the crowd.
An expectant hush dropped like a blanket around them as he placed his hands over hers. As they began to turn the handle together shouts of ‘Arriba! Arriba!’ grew around them, until the bucket burst into the sunlight and jiggled between them on its tough hemp rope.
Grabbing hold of it, Ramon brandished it in the air to even louder cheers.
‘I told you,’ Annalisa said, plucking at his arm. ‘There isn’t any water.’
‘And I say you’re wrong,’ he insisted fiercely. ‘About that and a great many other things.’
‘Let me see,’ she insisted. The silence now was tense and expectant. What if the bucket was dry? What if Ramon’s system had failed? Annalisa couldn’t bear to think about it, and, flashing an anxious glance at Ramon, she dipped her hand in. There was nothing except maybe an inch of water sloshing about in the bottom. Pressing her lips together, she shook her head.
‘Check again,’ Ramon growled softly.
‘I have checked,’ she shot back tensely. ‘There’s barely enough for two coffees—’
‘I had something stronger than coffee in mind.’ He flashed her a grin.
‘This is hardly a time for celebration,’ Annalisa pointed out, shooting anxious glances at the waiting villagers.
‘So you still don’t trust me?’
‘What on earth has that got to do with—?’
‘Get your hand back in there,’ he ordered, grasping her wrist.
With a frown she tried again. There was something at the bottom…
‘Don’t give up,’ he warned.
She froze suddenly and, drawing her hand out, stared straight into Ramon’s eyes. ‘Is this a joke?’
‘I’m not laughing.’
‘So what is it?’ she demanded hotly.
‘What the hell do you think it is?’
Her hand closed around the ring. ‘A rather large emerald-cut diamond?’ she managed faintly.
‘Correct,’ Ramon confirmed. ‘Give it to me.’
As she handed it over to him sunlight refracted through the stone, shooting rainbow colours through the blue-white diamond. ‘I’ve never seen anything like it…’ she murmured.
‘I should hope not,’ he said dryly.
‘Who is it for?’
‘The mother of my child.’ Selecting her ring finger, he stared deep into her eyes. ‘For the mother of my child,’ he repeated steadily, ‘and—’ he put a finger over her lips so she was forced to let him finish ‘—the woman I love.’
He turned briefly to acknowledge the cheers of the villagers, but when he turned back to her only Annalisa saw the passion in his eyes. ‘Annalisa, tu me hara el honor de acordar hacer mi esposa?’
‘I think I can answer that in Spanish.’
‘I’m waiting,’ he warned softly.
‘Sí, mi amor,’ she breathed against his lips.
Her wedding dress was the first thing Annalisa saw when she woke up. A gauzy mist of the finest white lace ruffled by the breeze coming through the partly opened shutters. And on a similar blue silk padded hanger hung the boned bodice and fine lawn petticoat that were to be worn beneath the transparent overdress. Ramon had flown her to Paris to find it, and now the most beautiful dress in the world belonged to her.
She had planned everything down to the last detail. And now this matchless summer morning heralded the most perfect day…her wedding day.
She stretched luxuriously as she contemplated the pleasure-filled agenda. There was nothing left to do but bathe, step into the dress and wait for the antique barouche Ramon had arranged to take her to the tiny village church.
The clatter of horses’ hooves made her swing around to look at the clock. The carriage was supposed to arrive at midday, and it wasn’t yet nine.
Leaping out of bed, she hurried to the window. Perfectly matched Andalucian mares stood patiently in front of a highly polished open carriage. She could only see the crown of the driver’s wide-brimmed black felt hat…he didn’t respond when she leaned over the balcony and called to him.
Dressing quickly in a pair of faded jeans and an old T-shirt, Annalisa slid her feet into a pair of flip-flops and raced out of the bedroom.
‘No one’s here yet,’ she said, shading her eyes as she hurried across the yard. Her first proper sight of the carriage made it hard to contain her excitement. And the horses had been groomed to glossy perfection, their long manes falling in silken waves over their ebony withers. ‘Won’t you come inside?’ she suggested, coming round so she could talk to the driver properly. ‘Let me make you some breakfast. You can wait in the house while I get ready—’
Her torrent of words dried up when he turned to stare. The expression on the face of Ramon’s chauffeur was as disdainful as ever. The shock of seeing who it was
unsettled Annalisa, but she had no intention of allowing anything to spoil her day. ‘It’s still very early. If you want to untack the horses they can go in the small paddock.’
‘The carriage is to be decorated, señorita,’ he said coldly. ‘The horses too—’
‘Well, at least take them to wait in the shade,’ she said firmly.
‘As you wish.’
‘There’s a water trough under that rattan canopy.’
She couldn’t help wondering about the man’s discontent. Ramon treated all his staff with the same courtesy and consideration, whatever their position in his household. She judged the chauffeur to be in his middle fifties, with the physique of a much younger man. But his face was always pleated into the same sour expression, as if there wasn’t enough happiness in his life to iron out the creases. Marking it down as another project to work on once she was married, Annalisa turned back to the house.
While she was soaking in the bath she smiled as she listened to the activity building in the yard. Maria Teresa had arrived and was bustling around in the kitchen. The reception was to be held at the finca, and as the orange groves had just yielded their best ever crop of first-class fruit the occasion had suddenly been transformed into a double celebration.
She had chosen to share the day with the villagers rather than opting for a grander ceremony at the cathedral in Mahon. Her love for Ramon needed no elaborate endorsement. It was enough to have Margarita as her attendant and little Aurelia to scatter petals. She closed her eyes as she tried to picture her own child, Ramon’s child…
Climbing out of the bath, she snatched up a fluffy towel and padded barefoot to the head of the stairs. ‘Maria Teresa…can you come and help me dress?’ But before she received a reply she heard a knock at the front door. ‘That’s probably Señor Perez’s chauffeur,’ she called down. ‘Will you see to him first? Make sure he has everything he wants.’
She waited for Maria Teresa to call back. But after a few minutes there was still no sign of her. Quickly putting on the underskirt, Annalisa couldn’t resist a twirl in front of the mirror before going to the door to call again.
‘May I help?’
Ice ran through her veins. Claudia was supposed to have left the island. Ramon had parted with a huge sum of money to make sure of it…and to acquire the ancient fishing rights belonging to Claudia that cut across both their beaches. Annalisa gasped as she turned to stare. ‘Where did you get that?’ The diamond necklace her stepmother had slipped over her head had only been delivered late the previous evening. It was Ramon’s wedding gift.
Claudia answered with a faint smile.
‘Give it to me,’ Annalisa insisted, tensely holding out her hand.
Pausing in front of the mirror to admire the reflection of the glittering stones against her own neck, Claudia sneered, ‘I’m not sure I will.’
To see her mother’s tormentor toying with Ramon’s precious wedding gift infuriated Annalisa. ‘You agreed to leave the island,’ she said tightly.
Raising a soft manicured hand, Claudia wafted the agreement away. ‘I’m entitled to second thoughts, just as you are. Perhaps I didn’t ask enough for the fishing rights…perhaps this will appease me. It is very beautiful—’
‘But it’s not yours,’ Annalisa pointed out icily.
‘You’re very direct…too direct.’
‘If you mean I tell the truth, I’d agree with you,’ Annalisa said, skirting warily round her stepmother. ‘Give it back to me. Now.’
With a scowl, Claudia tossed the necklace onto the dressing table as if it was a worthless bauble. ‘Shouldn’t you be getting ready? You don’t want to miss your wedding.’
‘And you don’t want to miss your flight,’ Annalisa retorted. ‘I’ll call Maria Teresa to see you out.’
‘I have dismissed her.’
‘You had no right—’
‘Don’t you dare presume to tell me what my rights are! At least your mother knew her place.’
‘Yes. You made sure of that,’ Annalisa interrupted coldly. ‘But I’m not my mother. And I’m asking you to leave.’
‘Señora Fuego Montoya is not ready to go.’ Ramon’s chauffeur was standing in the doorway.
‘What are you looking so surprised about?’ Claudia demanded triumphantly.
‘I thought Don Alfonso…’ Annalisa stopped as everything fell into place.
‘Don Alfonso!’ Claudia exclaimed derisively. ‘What? That old has-been? Surely you couldn’t imagine that Don Alfonso and I—?’
At least Don Alfonso was a gentleman, Annalisa thought, straightening her shoulders as she levelled a steady gaze at the pair of them. ‘I’m sorry to disappoint you, but this is a very busy time for me.’
‘Was a busy time,’ Claudia said, examining her red-painted talons. ‘Everyone’s left for the church…everyone but you.’
‘Maria Teresa would never leave without me,’ Annalisa said confidently.
‘Maria Teresa does what I tell her,’ Claudia said. ‘Her family has served mine for generations. And she has been working for you for…how long?’
‘I can’t believe she would—’
‘Not so sure of yourself now, are you?’ Claudia cut in coldly.
‘But Ramon—’
‘Is waiting at the church, with a smile on those arrogant lips of his—waiting for his bride.’ Annalisa’s stepmother paused to allow the impact of what she was about to say reach its target before continuing. ‘But when you sign over your share of the fishing rights he has just purchased from me, Señor Ramon di Crianza Perez will be reduced to begging on the streets.’
Annalisa’s short harsh laugh startled them. ‘You really don’t know anything about Ramon…or me, do you Claudia?’
‘Just sign this and we’ll be on our way,’ her stepmother suggested, taking a step forward and brandishing an official-looking document at Annalisa. Following her lead, the chauffeur also came a menacing step closer.
‘Not a chance,’ Annalisa informed them both coldly.
As Claudia lurched forward, Annalisa darted past and went racing down the stairs. Tearing through the kitchen, she burst into the yard. Blinded momentarily by the brilliant sunlight, she stopped abruptly. But then, hearing heels rattling across the kitchen tiles, she sped off again.
Her bridal shoes held her back, but their dainty ankle straps would take precious time to release—time she didn’t have. Scrambling up the path, she had almost reached the cliff-edge when she heard the sound of hysterical yapping—unmistakable yapping. She stopped short, panting for breath, and swung around to scan the rocks in an attempt to find Fudge. And then she saw him—a small barrel of loyalty, attempting to keep Claudia and her lover at bay. Sensing Annalisa’s abrupt halt, the old dog turned to look at her. Wagging his tail uncertainly, he came trotting after her. It seemed to Annalisa then that the whole scene played out in slow motion as Claudia dipped down to pick up the red ball and took aim…
It smacked against the rocks and Fudge stopped to watch, his head lifting and falling as he followed its hypnotic progress. It bounced once, twice, and then disappeared completely down a jagged gap—with the old dog careering after it.
‘Better get down there after him before he drowns,’ Claudia called across to Annalisa. ‘Oh, and don’t worry about signing this.’ She waved the contract at her. ‘I’ll just take the necklace instead.’
Annalisa could only ball her hands into impotent fists as she watched them go. Ramon’s chauffeur must have worked for Claudia’s father at one time, she thought, furious with herself for not thinking of it sooner. She channelled her mind determinedly to the present. ‘Don’t worry, Fudge. I’m coming!’
But even as she was scrambling over the rocks with her underskirt scrunched up around her waist she managed a fierce smile. Claudia belonged to the past. Ramon and their child were the future.
Annalisa inched her hand cautiously through the rusted grille to feel around and realised that Fudge had blundered into some sort of under
ground cellar. When he had fallen he’d dislodged the cover. The hinges were so stiff it took all her strength to lift it, by which time her hands were cut and her nails smashed to smithereens. Lowering herself down gingerly, she found a foothold on some treacherous steps. Blunted by slime into more of a slope, they made the rescue of the old dog doubly perilous.
Just when she made out his luminous brown eyes she heard an ominous clang as the cover slammed shut again. And then she noticed the basement was flooding with seawater. If she didn’t take care she’d slide straight down and they’d both be trapped. Hardly stopping to think, she began to unhook her sturdily constructed couture bodice. Tugging it off, she unfastened the straps on her white satin shoes. Using the heels to scrape away at the build-up of moss and lichen, she made a reasonably flat surface, laid the bodice down and stepped onto it. The cover yielded easily now she had a firm foothold, and she made a bundle of the bodice, putting it on the ground to wedge the grille open if it should fall again.
Fudge’s howls told her he was getting tired. Waves were sweeping into the cellar and at any moment he could be lost. She needed a rope…something to attach to his collar to bring him back up the steps. Casting around desperately in the gloom, her eyes lit upon her sodden petticoat. The lace edge was perfect for what she had in mind. Ripping the pearl-strewn trimming off its filmy lawn base, she twisted it into a rope and tested it.
‘Perfect,’ she murmured with satisfaction.
Taking her time over each step, she slowly descended into the cellar and knelt down in the murky water next to the shivering dog.
‘Annalisa! Annalisa! Thank God! What on earth are you doing?’
‘Ramon!’ Rocketing back on her haunches, Annalisa stared up at the circle of sunlight above her head. ‘Fudge fell down…’ She watched as he quickly discarded his short formal jacket and tugged off the traditional wedding shirt embroidered with the black silk into which she had so painstakingly added the last few stitches.
‘How is he? Is he hurt?’ he called.
‘No. He’s fine,’ she called back. ‘I’ve got him here with me.’
A Spanish Inheritance Page 17
