Doctor at Villa Ronda

by Iris Danbury

  Nicola fled through the main entrance of the Villa, raced up the beautiful staircase with its wrought ironwork, its spacious landings decked with flowers, and did not stop until she reached the safety of her own room. Even here she could not face this growing suspicion that of all men, it was Sebastian Montal who attracted and repelled her, rendered her nervous in his presence and overjoyed her with those rare moments when he laid aside his iron reserve.

  She fought down these ridiculous fancies, yet she knew that if tonight it had been Sebastian instead of Patrick who showered on her those fierce, savage kisses and held her in his arms as in a vice, she would have yielded to his endearments, returned him kiss for kiss.

  CHAPTER V

  Nicola lay awake for what seemed like hours, then had only fallen into a doze when a tap at her door was followed not by Adrienne, as she had expected, but by the girl's maid, Inez.

  “Senorita, Adrienne is not here? You have seen her?” the maid asked in Spanish.

  “No,” Nicola answered sleepily.

  “Gracias.” The maid went out and almost immediately Dona Elena came in.

  “When did you see Adrienne last tonight? Where?” she asked urgently.

  Nicola sat up in bed, wide awake now and already alerted to fears of some mishap. “Not since about the middle of the evening, I think.”

  “We cannot find her.”

  “She hasn’t come home?” Nicola queried.

  “No. You must please come downstairs.”

  Elena hurried out, and Nicola flung a housecoat around herself and followed quickly. The sound of voices coming from Dr. Montal’s study directed her.

  The maid Inez was outside the door and motioned to Nicola to enter. With the only lighting a desk lamp and a couple of wall brackets the grouping resembled a scene from a play. Ramon stood with folded arms by the book-lined wall. Dona Elena sat tensely in an armchair while Sebastian was giving instructions to Ignacio, the chauffeur.

  When the man had gone, Sebastian came towards Nicola.

  “Did you see Barto there tonight?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “No, I didn’t, but there were so many young people there, and a lot of them in costume.”

  “What was Adrienne wearing when you last saw her?”

  “Her sardana costume,” replied Nicola.

  “We found those clothes in the playa casa, the beach chalet. Her swimsuit is missing.”

  Nicola gasped. “You don’t think that—”

  “We know nothing,” snapped Sebastian. “We have sent men to search the sea for her.”

  “But she could be—somewhere else—in the grounds of the Villa?” hazarded Nicola.

  “She is not in the ...Villa or the gardens,” declared Sebastian. “It is possible that she has gone somewhere with Barto.”

  “Then that will be entirely your fault.” Ramon spoke for the first time since Nicola had entered the room.

  Sebastian stared, his cold, arrogant gaze fixed on Ramon.

  “I’ve told you before, Sebastian, that you’ve driven her too hard. You should have had more sense than to interfere in a simple friendship with a fisher-boy. If you hadn’t pulled so tight all the time the affair would have worn itself out by now.”

  Nicola glanced at Ramon with quickened interest. His was a logical view to take, but in the circumstances she was surprised, considering that he was expected to marry Adrienne.

  “And will you stand there as calmly if we find that my niece—”

  “Barto would never harm Adrienne’s little finger,” Ramon interrupted before Sebastian could complete his dangerous sentence. “The boy knows that a Montal girl is not for him. Anyway, we do not know that they are together.”

  “If Adrienne had not been allowed always to do as she pleased,” Dona Elena said, “this might not have happened.” She shot a hostile glance at Nicola. “I understood that Senorita Brettell was paid to act as Adrienne’s companion. Tonight she does not seem to have carried out her duties well.”

  Sebastian made an impatient gesture. “Do not let us start blaming each other, Elena. After all, you were also at the beach party and you could have kept a friendly eye on Adrienne.”

  Elena jumped to her feet, her eyes blazing. “You forget, Sebastian, that you asked me most definitely not to appear to spy on her. How could I know what thoughts she would have? Or where she would go?”

  “I have my responsibility to her father,” Sebastian said in a low tone.

  “Adrienne is not only her father’s daughter,” declared Elena indignantly. “She also had a mother.”

  Nicola, the unwilling witness of this stormy scene between Sebastian, Ramon and Elena, fidgeted in her chair, praying for a signal of dismissal from Sebastian, but he gave none. Perhaps she could slip out of the room unnoticed. She rose, but instantly Sebastian’s dark eyes glared at her.

  “You—you don’t need me again?” she queried.

  “Please stay, Nicola. I may want to ask further questions.”

  She felt Elena’s sharp turn of the head, probably at that easy use of “Nicola” instead of “Senorita Brettell.”

  Suddenly Ramon exclaimed, “You don’t think that perhaps Adrienne has gone to the Clorinda?”

  “How would she get there without a boat?” demanded Elena.

  “Barto would have a boat—or be able to borrow one,” returned Ramon. “Of course! Stupid of us not to have thought of that before.” He was halfway out of the room when Elena’s voice halted him.

  “Why would she go there? To remain on board without a chaperone would be very indiscreet.”

  “Well, I’m going down to the harbour to find out,” Ramon said finally. “I’ll telephone you, Sebastian, if there is any news.”

  Elena stood staring at Sebastian. Then, recovering her more usual dignity, she said, “I will stay here tonight as it was planned, but tomorrow I shall return to my own house, even though I have let my servants go away for a holiday. I will send Inez now to remain with you and Senorita Brettell, if you have other business to discuss.”

  She walked out of the room, leaving the door open, and a pale-faced Inez came timidly into the room. But Sebastian had changed his mind about any further questions, for he waved the maid away and said gently to Nicola, “Go back to bed now. There’s nothing more we can do until I have news of some sort.”

  “I hope it’s good news,” Nicola answered.

  In her room she noticed that it was now past five o’clock. Soon it would be daylight and there was little sense in trying to sleep. Instead, she took a shower and dressed, then sat on her balcony waiting for a dawn that might bring tragedy to the Montal household. Even then she must have dozed through sheer lack of sleep, for she became aware of full daylight and the pearly colours of sunrise fading into pale green and saffron.

  She went through her room and downstairs to the main part of the Villa. The servants were already hurrying about attending to their duties, but their faces were grave instead of smiling and they spoke in anxious whispers. Did they know what had happened to Adrienne?

  She found Inez who spoke a little English and good French through her association with Adrienne. “Any news of Senorita Adrienne?” Nicola asked.

  The girl shook her head. “No, senorita.”

  Nicola wondered if Sebastian had remained in his study and with some hesitation she knocked on the door. There was no answer, and she entered. Sebastian was slumped across his desk, his dark head resting on his sprawled arms. The lights were still burning, the curtains drawn, the windows shuttered.

  Nicola stood for a moment, uncertain, a great cloud of fear threatening to envelop her. She moved towards Sebastian, noting that he had flung his white dinner jacket on the floor. She picked it up, held it for a moment as she watched the rise and fall of his shoulders. Then a sigh of relief escaped her and she put down the jacket, pulled back the curtains, but found she could not manipulate the heavy shutters. Her efforts roused Sebastian, who dragged himself up to a sitting posture, r
ubbed his eyes, thrust his fingers through his tousled hair and stared dazedly at Nicola as though she were a ghost.

  “Adrienne?” she whispered.

  He shook his head and yawned.

  “I’ll have some coffee brought to you.” She went out towards the kitchen, met Rosana, the housekeeper, and asked for coffee to be sent to the doctor’s study.

  “Si, senorita.”

  When she returned to the study, Sebastian had already opened the shutters and daylight revealed the greyness of his face. It was unnecessary to ask him if he had heard anything new. Her glance, as she looked away, fell on a framed photograph on his desk. She realised that it had been close to his hand when she first entered the room, and he did not adorn his desk with personal photographs. He moved towards the desk, picked up the silver-framed photograph and replaced it in a drawer, but not before Nicola had seen that it was a portrait of a young and beautiful woman. Elena? Nicola thought not.

  A maid brought in the coffee tray and Sebastian poured cups for Nicola and himself.

  “Thank you, Nicola.” He spoke at last after the long silence. “It is good to have someone who does not ask stupid questions.”

  “I know that if there is anything to tell me, you will do so,” she answered quietly.

  “Let’s take our coffee outside. I can’t bear any more of this room now. Our house is old and the rooms have heard many bad announcements as well as good news, they have seen quarrels and gaiety.”

  Nicola nodded. She was overwhelmingly grateful that he allowed her to be with him at this agonising time. She was about to pour more coffee when she heard steps coming along the patio. She jumped to her feet.

  “Adrienne!” she cried out, and ran towards the girl approaching, accompanied by Barto.

  Nicola flung her arms around Adrienne’s neck but the girl gently disengaged herself and her face became composed and unsmiling. Nicola stood aside, aware that Sebastian was facing his niece and her companion.

  “Buenos dias, Tio Sebastian,” Adrienne greeted her uncle calmly.

  The boy Barto bowed to Sebastian. “Senor.”

  “Well, Adrienne? Where have you been?”

  Nicola was puzzled by Adrienne’s black dress. Why had she changed into this, leaving her sardana outfit in the beach chalet—unless the reason was to cause as much anxiety as possible?

  “In the church. All night,” returned Adrienne.

  “With Barto?” asked Sebastian.

  Nicola walked a few steps away. She did not want to hear Sebastian forcing an explanation from Adrienne.

  “Don’t go, Nicola,” Sebastian ordered. “You must hear Adrienne’s explanation from herself and not secondhand. But we will go indoors to hear the story.” In the study he turned towards his niece. “I asked whether you were with Barto.”

  “No, senor,” the boy answered quickly.

  “Adrienne? I asked you.”

  “I was alone. I met Barto this morning by the harbour.”

  “I want the truth,” pursued Sebastian. “Not a parcel of lies.”

  “I am not lying,” Adrienne answered coolly. “Nor is Barto. It’s his unhappy misfortune that he insisted on accompanying me here so early in the morning.”

  Sebastian shook his head. “Leave Barto out of this. I will deal with him later.” After a pause, he asked, “Why did you go to church? And when?”

  “I warned you last night, Tio Sebastian, that I would not put up with Dona Elena residing in this house. It is enough that I have to suffer her visits.”

  “So you chose this childish way of making us all anxious about your safety.” Sebastian’s lip curled in derision. “If you want to be treated as a woman, you must learn to behave like one, not a spoilt baby.”

  Nicola reddened with shame that the doctor should so humiliate Adrienne in front of herself and the boy Barto.

  “We sent men down to search the sea for you, Ignacio scoured the town looking for you, Ramon was worried and Nicola has had no sleep.”

  Adrienne smiled. “And you, Sebastian? Were you anxious, or did you sleep soundly and not bother?”

  “You haven’t told me why you went to the church.” He ignored her jibe.

  “I wanted to hurt you,” Adrienne said vehemently. “To run away and make you sorry. If I had wanted, I could have gone to Barto’s house, but that would have dragged him into the affair, so I went to the church.”

  “After midnight? It’s always locked before then. How did you get there? Did you walk along the road and through the streets?”

  “No. Some of the guests gave me a lift in their car down to the village.”

  “Without recognising their hostess?” Sebastian’s tone was incredulous.

  “I wore a black dress and veiled my face.” Dramatically, Adrienne withdrew from the pocket of the dress the black lace mantilla that most Spanish women wore in church.

  “And how did you get in the church? Or does your imagination fail?”

  “The door was not locked, and I pushed it open and went inside.” Adrienne was defiant.

  “So you stayed there until a short while ago? Then you decided to return here and on the way you happily met Barto?”

  “He had been out with the fishing boats and had just landed, so he escorted me here.”

  Sebastian remained silent for a moment. Then his face became darker than ever with anger. “Adrienne Montal, you are not fit to be the daughter of my brother and your mother. How dare you stand there and tell me this fairy tale of nonsense!”

  Barto, who did not understand the rapid English of Sebastian and Adrienne, looked from one face to the other and shifted on his feet restlessly, but he understood the doctor’s angry tone. Nicola wanted to cry out that surely Sebastian could see Adrienne was telling the truth, whatever her mixed motives might have been for such alarming behaviour.

  “If you do not choose to believe the truth,” Adrienne began, “then I really will disappear. Perhaps I shall go to South America and look for my father. To be lost in the jungle would be better than staying under this roof.”

  Sebastian closed his eyes for a moment as though in pain at the reminder of his brother’s unknown fate.

  “Barto.” He spoke quietly to the boy, then continued in what Nicola thought to be Catalan. The boy, his large eyes unwavering in their honesty, answered with polite dignity. There was nothing cringing nor servile about him, and Nicola reflected the truth of the saying that all Spaniards consider themselves the equal of kings.

  There was a long pause, and then one of the manservants knocked and announced that Fr. Anselmo had called and would like to see Don Sebastian.

  Adrienne smiled triumphantly. “Of course he must come in.”

  The priest hurried into the room. “Your pardon, Don Sebastian,” he began in Spanish, “but these young people arrived here too quickly for my old legs. Senorita Adrienne has told you?”

  “Sit down and let me hear your story,” commanded Sebastian.

  Nicola could scarcely follow the priest’s rapid Spanish or Sebastian’s questions, but she gathered that his account corroborated Adrienne’s own story, and he had come up to the Villa for that express purpose.

  Sebastian sank heavily into the chair at his desk. In reply to Barto’s questioning glance, he nodded and indicated that the boy could leave. Then he stood up.

  “Adrienne, please offer Fr. Anselmo coffee and any breakfast he wishes to have. I am going out.”

  He went through the windows on to the patio and disappeared into the sunlit garden.

  Nicola was uncertain whether to go or stay, but finally she said, “I’ll be in my room, Adrienne. Perhaps later we can talk.”

  She wanted to rush after Sebastian, to comfort him in his defeat, to reassure him that in future she would stay close to Adrienne, act as her shadow and see that she did not upset the entire household by her wild-cat exploits. Instead, she went to her own room as she had promised and waited for Adrienne to come. The girl was not long in arriving. She had taken of
f her sober black dress and now wore a padded terylene housecoat embroidered with pink and white flowers.

  “Why did you do this mad thing?” was Nicola’s first question.

  Adrienne sat on the dressing stool and peered at her face in the mirror. “I was very angry with the way Sebastian had allowed Elena to come here and practically act as la madre in our house. She must wait to do that when she marries Sebastian—if that should ever take place—and perhaps by that time she will be a very old woman!”

  “But even allowing for your anger, why leave the Villa and not come home?”

  Adrienne swung round on the stool. “Perhaps it was a devil that entered me. I wanted to do something most desperate, to throw myself into the sea and swim far out so that I would be lost and not able to return. Then I wanted to throw Elena into the sea so that she would never come back and distress us. All this time the party was so gay, and underneath it all I was seething like a boiling pot.”

  “But the black dress?” queried Nicola. “Did you take it down to the shore with you so that you could conveniently leave your other clothes behind?”

  Adrienne smiled. “No. It was when I was changing into my swimsuit that I saw the black dress hanging on a peg in the beach house. There are always spare dresses down there. Sometimes they are mine, sometimes they belong to Inez or one of the other maids. So I had the idea that after my swim I would leave my sardana costume and slip away somewhere in the black dress. It did happen to be mine.”

  “But surely that was wrong of you! You were hostess at the party.”

  Adrienne shrugged. “In the house one could not leave the guests like that, but down on the shore it is different. Who will care whether the hostess is there or not? Everyone is enjoying themselves and in the darkness one cannot see where everyone is. I did not even meet your Patrick.”