The willing hostage

by Elizabeth Ashton

  CHAPTER THREE

  FROM the outside die Castillo de las Aguilas looked grim and forbidding, suggesting ah austere discomfort. The great hall into which Rosalie stepped did nothing to dispel such expectations. Stone-floored, it reached the whole height of the building to a raftered ceiling far above her head. A huge brick fireplace occupied one wall, in which stood a charcoal brazier indicating that the logs for which it was intended were difficult to procure. Narrow windows at intervals in the thick walls replaced what had once been arrow slits, and a stone staircase ascended to the upper regions. The place was scantily furnished with a few wooden benches and in one corner a suit of mail was a relic of the former garrison which had once inhabited it. After the heat of the day outside the hall struck chill, as Don Rafael closed the ponderous front door. Jacobo stood blinking in the dimness, clutching Rosalie's case, waiting for instructions. 'Take it up to the alcoba de felicidad,' his master commanded him. "The senorita will lodge there during her stay.' The happy bedroom@that sounded auspicious, Rosalie thought, but what an odd name for a chamber, unless it was a nuptial one. She darted a glance at Don Rafael and saw he was smiling enigmatically. The old man looked surprised, but he picked up her case and proceeded to toil upstairs with it. 'So you intend to keep me here?' Rosalie asked. 42 s@- .I? 'For the present, yes, until you have told me all I wish to ||now.' @|' She clenched her hands. 'I will tell you nodiing!' It He did not speak, but his face set in implacable lines. |rhe sinister hall in which she was standing was not reassuring and she shivered in her diin suit. fei 'What's die use?' she went on, trying to speak reasonably Ein spite of her growing apprehension. Don Rafael was ob|viously quite mad and she was at his mercy, if he had any. i-'-By now they will be far away where you can't reach them. [I'm sorry about the diamonds, but you said perhaps the ^bracelet can be redeemed.' i' 'Maybe, when I have discovered what those thieves have | done widi it.' i, 'But after all, the bracelet was a gift. Senorita Nunez. :,may have thought she had the right to dispose of it.' ; 'So you defend her? But her conduct is indefensible!' 'His eyes glinted evilly. 'I will keep you until I am recom' pensed.' So his intention was to hold her to ransom. She won;dered if Uncle George would stump up or whether he would consider that she must get herself out of the pre; dicament in which she had landed herself. He had warned 'her against just such an eventuality. As for Philip and Consuelo, she doubted very much if they would give her a mought. They would be too absorbed in each other and : their own problems, and if Senor Gomez reported that she 'had gone, they would imagine she had departed upon some < adventure of her own choosing. She reflected with satisfaction that the Conde would have no idea whom to approach for ransom money and she did not intend to enlighten him. But his next words gave her an unpleasant jolt. ; 43 'Having lost one woman I have obtained anodier as a substitute,' he observed significantly. A remark Rosalie found ambiguous and with difficulty repressed a shudder. Did he mean to wreak vengeance upon her for Consuelo's infidelity, and if so, what form would it take? Her eyes travelled slowly round her forbidding surroundings, In such a place there would be dungeons, even oubliettes, chains and instruments of torture, but the Conde's implication was much less crude than physical punishment and far more shameful. Summoning all her resolution, for nothing would make her cringe before him, she said coolly: 'I'm afraid I'm a poor substitute for the beautiful and wealthy,' she emphasised the last word, glad that her captor did not know she was co-heir to die Pas empire, 'Consuelo Nunez.' Again the evil glint in his eyes. 'Nevertheless you may be able to console me. I find your fair skin very appealing, and you have a spirit which it would be very amusing to tame.' 'What are you going to do to me?' she asked fearfully. 'That I have not yet decided,' he told her. Whatever dark thoughts he was harbouring, his face suddenly cleared and he continued almost affably: 'My ancestral hall is not the most cheerful of reception rooms, we can do better than dlis, and you will be in need of diat drink I promised you. Suppose we go out into the arcade? My mother is there.' Rosalie experienced a rush of relief; she had forgotten diat the dowager Dona Teresa also lived at the castle. Surely Rafael could not be contemplating any excess with his modier present, and perhaps she could appeal to her for protection. The Conde opened a door on the further side of the hall 44 beckoned to her to go through it. As she did so, she glinked in the dazzling light which met her. After the shadhall it was blindingly brilliant so diat for a second she not take in her surroundings. Then her vision cleared she looked about her curiously. y From stone tower to stone tower a long arcade ran along jifae length of the building under the floor above, supported |by plain solid pillars, between which a wrought iron railing Jenclosed it. Beyond the railing the castle walls formed a Quadrangle, and directly opposite was a whitewashed win-Idowless wall of some other building up which grew a vine. |In the centre of the square thus formed was an ancient Pwellhead, which no longer supplied die household widi iwater, but was used, Rosalie was to learn later, to water the ''cultivated terraces, which covered the hillside beyond die white building. Against die walls on either side, several 'orange trees displayed dieir glossy leaves and golden fruit. ;The strong sunlight threw die shadows of the railing and pillars across the floor of die arcade for half its width, the ,odier half was in the shade of its roof. At first sight the place seemed deserted, wrapped in noontide silence and |heat, the black bars of the railing looking a little sinister. l-Then Don Rafael indicated that she should turn to her left [and she saw wicker chairs and a small iron table were set in jthe shaded part of the arcade, and seated there was the |dowager Condesa Teresa de Santaella y Morena, for in @pain a married woman places her maiden name after her jfausband's, though she is never addressed by it. |, She had die same narrow high-bred face as her son, dark .eyes and hair as yet untouched widi grey. She was dressed |n widow's black and an old-fashioned black lace mantilla |overed her proudly held head. | Rafael said casually: 'Madre mia, permit me to present I' 45 the Senorita SmeeA. She will be staying with us for a while,' and turned his attention to the jug of lemonade and tumblers on the table, pouring out two liberal glasses full. 'Is that so?' Dona Teresa enquired. 'Felipe Smeeth is her brother,' the Conde told her significantly, lengthening the vowel sound in Smidi. 'Sit down, senorita.' He handed Rosalie the drink. 'I am afraid the ice has melted, but it is still cool.' Rosalie sipped it gratefully. Don Rafael's moods seemed oddly at variance; one moment he was threatening and now he was playing the attentive host, possibly for his mother's benefit. The Condesa's dark opaque eyes slid comprehensively over the girl's face and figure. 'Smeeth?' she said dioughtfully, using the same pronunciation as her son's. 'There are many Smeeths in England, is it not so, senoritaY 'It is a very common name, madam,' Rosalie confirmed. 'I came to Spain to work as a waitress because I wanted to see the country.' Dona Teresa seemed to be following some train of thought of her own. 'Senorita Smeeth,' she repeated. 'What is your first name, chicaY 'Rosalie, madam.' There was a tiny pause while the Condesa's eyelids flickered. 'A pretty name,' she remarked. 'Too pretty for a waitress. Rosalie glanced at her dubiously. Surely in this remote part of central Spain her name could convey nothing to her hostess? Philip Alexander had never advertised his family and her clothes and her occupation were hardly what would be expected of an heiress. 46 'Our house is yours,' Dona Teresa went on, using the conventional Spanish welcome to a guest, 'and I hope you will enjoy your stay.' Her English was as good as her son's. @ Rosalie began to think that she must be dreaming. After what had gone before the Condesa's words seemed almost farcical. She took a quick look at Rafael's inscrutable face. He was lounging gracefully against one of the pillars of the arcade, and his moudi curled satirically. He could not have prepared his mother for her advent, since he had not known he would encounter her. He had said luck had been on his side, but Dona Teresa, whatever she thought about Rosa-lie's unexpected appearance, was too courteous to express any surprise. Explanations would come later, she supposed. Surreptitiously studying Teresa de Santaella's fine face, while she chatted conventionally about
the country and its visitors, Rosalie could not believe that she would lend herself to any dark scheme of vengeance her son might be hatching, and felt reassured. 'You have been shown your room?' the Condesa asked her. 'Not yet.' 'Where is she lodged?' she enquired of her son. Rafael said unconcernedly. 'El alcoba de felicidad.' The Condesa raised her brows. 'But that is...' -'Precisely, madre,' he interrupted her.I Dona Teresa gave Rafael an intent look and said in a low |voice in her Castilian Spanish: |: 'My son, in your frustration, do not do anything that is faworthy of you, and your family.' II He returned her gaze with a moody stare. H'.'You do not understand, this woman may appear sweet demure, but she is a cunning schemer and deserves to Re taught a lesson.' The Condesa's regard returned to Rosalie, who had not been able to follow their soft rapid speech, her own Spanish was rudimentary and of not nearly such a pure vintage. 'It may be you are mistaken, mi hijo.' 'I do not diink so,' he returned shortly. Dona Teresa rose to her feet. 'Come, chica, you will no doubt wish to arrange yourself before lunch, which has been kept back for El Conde's coming. I will show you the way.' She looked back at her son and said in Spanish: 'I will speak with you later when we are alone.' Rafael shrugged his shoulders. 'As you please. Mama.' The room into which the Condesa ushered Rosalie was above the arcade and looked out upon the square below. Through the windows were grilled with die Spanish reja, it in no way suggested a prison. The floor was polished wood with several fine rugs upon it, die furnishings though scanty were in handsome, carved wood. The bed was enormous, a fourposter covered with a blue silk coverlet. Adjoining the bedroom was a small tiled bathroom, evidently installed at a much later date. Before conversion it had been a powder closet. Dona Teresa looked round the room widi a loving eye. 'That was my marriage bed,' she said, 'and there Don Rafael was born. Alas, he was the only one.' 'But, madam, am I turning you out?' Rosalie exclaimed, aghast. 'No, chica, I went into a smaller room when my husband died. This one was too full of memories. It was to have been Don Rafael's when he wed.' She looked dioughtfully at Rosalie. 'I do not understand why he wishes to put you in here.' Rosalie went cold as her eyes went towards the great bed, 48 jpffie-one her host had hoped to share with Consuelo. Was to be his subtle vengeance? But surely he could not ^iean to seduce her. Jig.'Madam,' she began faintly. 'The Conde is an honourable ...' and stopped, for she did not know if his mother a part in what had transpired. She might condone the (action he meant to take. B* 'Most honourable,' the Condesa reassured her. 'He will o you no harm, chica. It's a pity ... others have not his gligh sense of duty.' She compressed her thin lips. 'But ay I'itfe mi, die young ones of today have not die integrity of theIpast.' I 'You're thinking of Senorita Nunez,' Rosalie suggested, I'but I don't believe in arranged marriages, madam. A wo|man has a right to marry the man she loves even if he isn't |very well off. Money can't buy happiness.' ; 'There is not much happiness without it,' Dona Teresa [retorted drily. 'But claro, your brother expects to benefit [from Senorita Nunez's fortune, unless her father disinherits ;her.' ' Stung by the Condesa's contemptuous tone, Rosalie began: 'Philip won't be dependent upon his wife's money...' 3and stopped as she met her hostess's interrogative eye. 'He earns a good salary,' she concluded lamely. i 'What does he do?' ' *0h, he's in business,' Rosalie said vaguely. It would 'never do to mention Pas. Dona Teresa looked down her straight nose, and told her haughtily: 'It is only of recent years that we of die aris:ocracy have admitted business men into our closed circle.' 'But isn't Spain a republic?' The Condesa sighed. 'Si, chica, and many of our landed gentry have to work in offices, but they are still proud of 49 their tides.' She looked at her watch and told Rosalie that she would return shortly to bring her downstairs. Rosalie was about to tell her not to bother, for she could find her own way thither, when the Condesa slipped swiftly from the room before she could intercept her, and she heard die key turn in the lock on die outside of her door. There was something very disagreeable about the sound, and Dona Teresa's sudden exit, as if she were ashamed of what she had to do. It was a reminder of her real position, and she experienced a return of the apprehension which the Spanish woman's friendliness had almost dispelled. Would she protect her from Don Rafael's vindictive temper, or was she in league widi him? She had said her son would not harm her, but the locking of her door had a baleful significance. Meanwhile a wash would be very welcome also a change of apparel. The water was nearly cold, but it was refreshing. Delving into her case, Rosalie regretfully pushed aside the trousers and floral top which she would normally have worn. Such a garb would only increase Don Rafael's poor opinion of her character. She had several plain nylon dresses with her, which did not take up much room in her case, and though diey were sleeveless, she hoped they would not offend Spanish susceptibilities. She noticed her wrist was becoming discoloured where the Conde had gripped it. That was hardly surprising, and the man was a brute. Yet even as she came to that conclusion, her stomach churned in retrospect as she remembered his bruising kisses. Her northern frigidity had been stirred by his soft sensuous voice, the gleam in his black eyes, a hint of smouldering fires. She looked at herself in the long glass in the bedroom, 50 I comparing herself with Consuelo Nunez, and could find little to recommend her. She had a good skin, the famous English complexion of roses and cream, her eyes were large and expressive, but there it ended. She had none of die Peruvian girl's sexiness, her feminine curves and lustrous 'hair and eyes. Her slight form looked childish and virginal, nodiing there to rouse a lusty Spanish male. But he had @.said she was beautiful when she was angry, and she should .not have slapped his face; it had been a useless provocative 'protest and would give him an excuse to inflict some further indignity. A knock on the door recalled her from her speculative @musings and she heard the key turn. K 'Come in,' she called, and her heart leaped as Rafael Unentered the room. I' He too had bathed and changed, and was wearing a I' cream-coloured suit, the jacket open to display a scarlet | cummerbund, which gave a barbaric touch of his appear-I' ance; almost she expected to see ear-rings in his ears. |; 'You!' she exclaimed nervously. 'What do you want?' I 'Only a few words with you before we join the Condesa.' I. His glance slid over her appraisingly. 'You look charming.' S" 'I don't want any compliments,' she said stormily, aware I that her pulses had quickened under his slumbrous gaze and I furious with herself for her reaction. 'Seeing that I'm held | in duress, they're a little out of place.' | 'Are they ever out of place? May I not show my appre| elation of my captive's charms?' He was smiling wickedly. | 'So long as you confine yourself to words...' she began, | and blushed hotly, realising her speech was ill chosen. I 'Well, what did you want to say?' she concluded briskly, ' wishing he would not stare at her so fixedly. 'Merely to ask you to give me your parole, it would make 51 life much pleasanter for all concerned.' 'Meaning that if I promise not to try to escape, I shan't be locked up?' 'Crudely put, but that is the idea. If you give me your promise we can treat you like a guest ... an honoured guest.' Her chin went up. 'And if I won't?' His eyes narrowed. 'I should hate to have to put you in chains.' Involuntarily she quailed. 'Surely even you couldn't be such a barbarian.' 'I never threaten what I am not prepared to perform,' he told her. 'But please do not try to provoke me. Won't you give me your promise?' 'Seeing that you've got such a low opinion of me, you can't expect me to keep it.' He gave her a long penetrating look, which Rosalie met without flinching, noticing how long were his eyelashes. They gave a deceptive look of softness to his really beautiful eyes. 'That is a risk I am prepared to take,' he told her. 'You will hand over your passport and your money, naturally, as an extra precaution.' He smiled, that swift charming smile that illuminated his normally stern face. 'Unlike Consuelo you are English, and on the continent we always used to say, "Word of an Englishman," meaning a promise would be kept. You would not wish to let your countrymen down, senoritaY Diverted by the mention of Consuelo, she asked: 'Did Senorita Nunez make you any promises, or did her father make them on her behalf?' He seemed to be considering, and then he sighed. 'Perhaps you are right, it was her father who arran
ged 52 the betrothal. I did not have much contact with the lady herself. It is not considered correct in dlis country, you know.' 'That's what's so wrong,' Rosalie declared emphatically. 'How can you get to know each other, decide if you're ' suited until too late?' He drew himself up haughtily and said coldly: 'A man does not take liberties with a woman he respects. I would not wish to get to know, as you put it, die woman I ' meant to wed before marriage.' He had misconstrued her words, but whether deliberately or not she was uncertain. One thing was obvious, he did not respect herself. 'But in England I know it is different,' he went on, 'and very different in odier northern countries. Por Dios, the Swedish beauties who throng our beaches in the summertime have first bewildered and then corrupted our young men.' His eyes kindled at some sensual memory. 'They are muy hermosa, but we would never marry them.' Rosalie suspected that he had not scrupled to avail himself of the favours offered to him by the girls he despised. 'But I'm not like that,' she said firmly. 'That time will show,' he returned imperturbably. 'Come, senorita, no more evasion, give me your promise.' She hesitated, for she would have to keep her word if she did so. 'Surely you would prefer to come and go as you please?' he said persuasively, and his eyes went to the ponderous lock on the door. 'But how long do you intend to keep me here?' she enquired. 'That rather depends upon your co-operation.' 'Do you still imagine I can give you any information 53 about my brother's whereabouts?' 'I think if you will condescend to discuss the situation frankly, and tell me something of your history, I might gain a clue, or I might be persuaded to let the matter rest.' Rosalie's eyes became wary. What new development was this? Why did he wish to probe into her antecedents? Her life was an open book, but for the fact that she did not want to disclose to dlis seemingly rapacious Spaniard her connection with Pas. Since he had been defrauded of Consuelo's dowry, he might seek to recompense himself by cashing in upon her own expectations. She smiled wryly, picturing Uncle George's dismay if Don Rafael demanded a huge ransom. He would have to pay it to release her, and that would serve him right for his strict interpretation of her father's will. Don Rafael was watching die expressions flitting across her face and was right in concluding that she had somediing to hide, though her secret was not what he thought it was. 'Be diat as it may,' he said pleasantly, 'I am still waiting for your promise, and I am sure you must be hungry, as I am too.' She decided diat she had nodiing to gain by refusing and as he had said, existence would be much pleasanter if she were not kept under lock and key. 'Very well, I promise,' she agreed, 'and I do keep my word, senor.' 'Excellent, and now, please be so good as to hand over your passport, and any cash you may have on you.' In resentful silence, she opened her bag and extracted her passport and the wad of notes Senor Gomez had given her. 'That represents my return fare,' she said reproachfully as she handed diem to him. 54 'I thought you might have diat,' he said meaningly. He neticulously counted the money, and made a note of die mount in his pocket book. 'This will be returned to you in iue course.' He slipped money and documents into his acket pocket. 'Even if you are tempted to break your word, [ do not think you would get far penniless and without papers. And now shall we go and eat?' He pushed the half-closed door open for her and stood iside to let her pass. Rosalie stalked by him with her head in die air and bitter resentment in her heart. The meal was served not in the great hall but in a room to one side of it which looked out on to the quadrangle. It was furnished with shabby grandeur, a long polished table, carved chairs and sideboard, with somewhat moth-eaten tapestry upon its bare walls. It was a simple meal, cold chicken and smoked ham, tomatoes, home-made bread, goat's cheese and grapes, food that was all produced locally. Since die water was not fit for drinking, Rosalie accepted the manzanilla which was offered to her. 'It came from the south,' die Condesa told her. 'It is the wine of Sevilla where we have connections.' Rosalie began to lose all sense of reality. Her host and hostess chatted pleasantly to her as if she were in truth a guest, but she was not here by her own will, and she was aware of the surreptitious scrutiny of two pairs of nightdark eyes. The Condesa's were frankly curious, but Don Rafael's were completely unrevealing. Occasionally his lips curled as if he were enjoying some secret joke. Rosalie was relieved that.he no longer seemed menacing, but she could not imagine what he hoped to gain by keeping her there. She was still more relieved when at the conclusion of the meal he said he had business to attend to in connection with 55 'Claro, such dedication!' She guessed he had expected her to want to buy frip)eries, but she did not want to waste money on unessentials. She went back to join her new employer and help with he preparations for their departure. They were to start ;arly the next morning. The journey was to her one of sheer enchantment. Rosa-ie travelled in the back of Rafael's ageing but still servicehie car, while die Condesa sat beside her son. The dreary lun-coloured plains were left behind, when they reached he ragged battlements of die Sierra Morena. The sides of he Gorge of Despenaperros, which was the way through he mountains, were covered with a flower like a wild rose, .mong which the bees were busy. Romero, Dona Teresa aid it was called, and romero-flavoured honey was a speciality. The road descended to the plain where there were sphodels, acanthus and aspidistras. The first cactuses ap)eared, aloes and prickly ears, under a deep blue sky. It ras intensely hot. Rafael stopped at a whitewalled posada vith its sunblinds drawn down for a long cool drink. ^chsias, geraniums and ferns filled its windowboxes and tood in pots along its walls. Rosalie felt that at last she was eeing what she had thought of as Spain. Cordoba appeared on the horizon, visible several miles way. It had been the capital of the old Moorish Caliphate and yas built upon the banks of die Guadalquivir. The river livides the province, the mining and stockbreeding zones >