“Isn’t that your own fault?”
“Partly. But perhaps I will do this thing in spite of him. It is my wish to live here on San Palos, independently of Marcus, as soon as it can be arranged.”
“Have you discussed it with him?”
“Marcus does not discuss, senorita. He makes statements.” The dark eyes laughed at her again. “I am sure he did not propose to you. It is far more likely that he watched you for a while in England and then, one evening, he told you that you must come to Las Vinas decorously, with your mother, and if you fitted into the scene he would marry you.” After a mildly electric pause he added, “I am sure you have never deluded yourself about Marcus. You are no more in love with him than he is with you.”
Sally managed a quick reply in a light tone. “You’re hardly equipped to analyse other people, Josef. If you’re really so keen to get a small factory, why not talk to the business men in Naval Town—Captain Northwick, or even Mr. McCartney? They might help you.”
Josef’s full lips pulled slightly, making his smile unpleasant. “I hate business men, and I want this creation to be my own. No interference, no directions from people who know nothing about ceramics, no poking of the long business man’s nose into my methods and accounts.”
“You’ll have to convince Marcus, then, won’t you? Do you hate him as well as resenting him?”
With a quick change of expression Josef shrugged this off. “I cannot like him ... it has been no more than that, till now.” Still seated, with both arms about the back of his chair, he regarded her with disturbing seriousness. His voice, rounded and alien, seemed almost to throb. “At times I have envied Marcus this house and the estate, his relationship with Dona Inez. But possessions are restricting and I have always coveted freedom ... till the last year or two. Now I find myself more frustrated and jealous than I thought possible. He has you.”
The final word hung on the air between them for fully thirty seconds before Sally was able to say, without a tremor, “That’s a very nice compliment, Josef, but I suspect it’s a conventional one from a Spaniard. I’m sure you don’t want to make my life difficult...”
He jumped up and came to her. “I want to make your life beautiful,” he said urgently. “You are young and very pretty, you need a man who will give you excitement and joy and more love than you can use! How can you possibly be happy here? Marcus wants only a mistress for his house, a mother for his children. His whole life is the estate of Las Vinas and that actress in London!” He caught himself up, smothered an exclamation and burst out, “I did not want to mention that, chica, but it has been in my mind. Do not tremble—I will tell you about it if you wish.”
“You’ve said enough,” she exclaimed, white-faced. “From now on, you can keep that sort of thing to yourself.”
Again he threw out his hands in the typical eager gesture. “I am so angry with myself for saying that. There was no need for you to know. This woman—the actress—is the good friend of Marcus. In London I called at his hotel and saw them together. I did not wait to speak to him because...”
“Because you wondered if the information you’d accidentally picked up might be useful here on San Palos! Whom were you going to tattle to—Dona Inez?”
He drooped his head dejectedly. “You think I would do a thing like that? I did not stay to speak to Marcus because I guessed the actress was his ... amante. You understand? A man who takes trouble to keep the partner of his affair so far from home...”
“I don’t want to hear any more!”
“But I cannot bear to have hurt you. You are young, but you are full of sense. When you agreed to become the fiancée of Marcus you must have known how things would be—that he would be your husband here at Las Vinas, and the lover of someone else on his trips to England and elsewhere. I am not blind, senorita. No one could convince me that your engagement to Marcus was not arranged for the sake of Dona Inez and the del Moscado Durant family.”
“Will you please stop it!”
His tones lowered, became soft and pitying. “I am so very sorry my thoughtless mention of this woman should hurt you. And I am very much ashamed to admit that to a degree you were right when you said that I had thought to use the information here on San Palos. At first it seemed that it might procure for me the money I need for my business; Dona Inez would have bought my silence.”
“The senora is in precarious health—she must never hear of this,” Sally flung at him. “You’re just a common blackmailer.”
“But no,” he said, and the pain in his eyes was bewilderingly genuine. “Dona Inez would not have seen it that way. And I promise that I shall say nothing to her; she has been too ill, and you must believe that I am fond of the old one. She has done much for me.”
Her breath came a little heavily. “If Marcus knew what you’ve been contemplating he’d have you off the island within an hour.”
His smile returned. “Less than an hour,” he said gaily. “But you will not tell him, cara mia. This foolish indiscretion of mine will remain between us. I shall say nothing to Dona Inez and you will say nothing to Marcus. It is a pact between us?”
“It has to be, doesn’t it?”
“Perhaps, but please do not let it make you unhappy. I want very little in return for forgetting that I saw Marcus and his actress in London—only some support from you, your friendship.”
Unbearably tightened up, she said, “What does that mean, exactly?”
“Your friendship,” he repeated. “That is all.”
She moved blindly towards the door. “I’ll be friendly towards you as long as it suits me,” she said in strained tones. “I can’t think why you should try to hurt me...”
“Hurt you?” he cried, distressed. “I wish only to help you. You are too good for the half life you would have here. I beg of you not to make official this engagement. Some day quite soon I will be able to offer help in an acceptable form. Please believe me.”
But Sally did not stay to hear more. Through a sort of miasma she forced herself out of the room, and somehow her legs carried her along a short landing to the main corridor. Then she realized she was still clutching the tin of dressings, stopped and turned, to come face to face with Marcus as he stepped out of his room.
“I’ve been looking for you,” he began. Then, swiftly, “What’s the matter? Feeling grim?”
“No. No, I’m fine. I was just going to return this to the end bathroom.”
“I’ll do it.” He took the box and turned it in his hand. “Have you been using these?”
“Yes. Carlos asked me to dress Josef’s wound.”
“You’ve done nursing,” he said, still eyeing her keenly. “You wouldn’t feel faint over a thing like that.”
“I don’t feel faint.”
“Did Josef upset you?” he probed.
“I’m perfectly all right. Why did you want me?”
“I haven’t had time to go down for a bathe since we arrived. Thought you might like to try out our nearest beach with me, but if you’re not up to it, just come for the ride.”
“I’ll go some other time, thank you, Marcus.”
“Some other time won’t do,” he said sharply. “You’re coming now.”
The violet eyes became huge in the pallor of her face. “I intend to catch up on correspondence this morning. Please let me pass.”
“Look here, Sally...”
A door opened at the end of the corridor and Katarina emerged. All Sally saw was the gaunt yellow face before she was gathered tightly within Marcus’s arms.
Through the thunder of her own heartbeats she heard Marcus clip out, close to her ear, “She can see your face. Close your eyes and pretend you’re not detesting every second of it!”
But Sally’s eyes remained wide and staring for a further moment. She saw the minute, wrapped figure on Katarina’s arm, the pause while the fierce little glance took in the scene down the corridor and the queer smile of satisfaction.
Then Sally closed her eye
s tightly and whispered, “Please take me away. I can’t speak to Dona Inez. I can’t!”
He managed it so smoothly that it might have been an act he had rehearsed a dozen times. Without turning, he raised his shoulder and drew her round, so that she was almost completely hidden from the tiny woman who was taking her first few faltering steps outside her bedroom. Slowly, as though it were prearranged, he walked Sally back along the corridor to the main landing and turned with her to descend the staircase. By the time they had reached the hall his arm had dropped from her shoulder, but his hand was at her elbow, guiding her into the morning room.
Sally stood just inside the door and looked at him. Her lips were pale and felt as numb as if they had been violently kissed.
“What was all that?” she asked.
“It’s part of the reason I’d decided we’d go out together this morning,” he said curtly. “Every two or three days Dona Inez gets touchy about this engagement business. I took in her breakfast this morning, and she got on to the subject again—said we were not to treat her as an invalid. She kept on about unnatural behavior, the care you took not to look at me, that we don’t even touch hands in her presence. She made a crack about even Spanish customs permitting endearments and other things in public. From her balcony, yesterday, she saw me go out and leave you sitting outside with your mother; for her, our parting was too casual.”
“So you decided to be a little less ... casual just now. Does it mean her health is improving?”
“I hope so.” Exasperated, he shoved his hands into his pockets and took a pace or two. He stopped and looked at her, smiling faintly. “I’m beginning to hate this almost as much as you do. Try to believe that and you may not feel so badly about it all.”
“Isn’t there something we can do? It was rather hasty, that bit of play-acting upstairs, and maybe it wasn’t very wise. When the bump comes it’ll hurt her all the more.”
“Then we’ll have to see there’s no bump, won’t we?” He gazed for quite some time at the Spanish figurines which adorned a side table. “Last night I asked Carlos whether she could stand an emotional shock, and he said he doubted whether she’ll ever be able to stand one if it concerns me.”
She gazed at him blankly. “But ... but what can we do about it?”
“Ever since I spoke with Carlos I’ve been thinking it over. I was going to have this talk with you down at the beach this morning, but events upstairs rather precipitated things. You’ve told me several times that you like the island and Las Vinas.”
“Yes, I do.”
“You thought of settling here as a nurse, so it’s possible you feel you could stay here more or less indefinitely. Before I go any further, tell me something. Do you find Carlos physically attractive?”
A faint flush crept up from her neck. “No. I like him, but that’s all.”
“Do you find me physically attractive?”
The flush became a flare of scarlet. “I refuse even to think about it. I told you the other day, when...”
“Yes, I remember,” he said coolly. “It was just something I would have liked to know before I made my proposition. Will you marry me?”
Her head went back and she gave him a long appalled stare. “Are you ... joking?”
“I was never more serious. We can become officially engaged right away and marry in about six months’ time. In fact, we simply validate this bogus situation and make a good thing of it.”
“How could you possibly think I’d agree to it?” she breathed. “You may not believe in the love match, but I do. I’d have to be madly in love and have someone madly in love with me before I’d marry!”
“Mad love,” he said with sarcasm, “explodes or fizzles out quicker than any other kind. In Spain, a woman...”
“I’m not Spanish!”
“Very well, look at it another way,” he said reasoningly. “Your mother is a thousand times happier than she was when I first met her, on the ship. She has a purpose in life, a couple of admirers and a home here at Las Vinas until she marries again. Oh, yes,” as she let out an exclamation, “she’ll certainly marry again; she’s not complete without a husband. I think you may be sure that she intends to stay permanently on San Palos. But you, subconsciously if not consciously, had decided that the time would come, perhaps within a few weeks, when you’d have to leave the island.”
“I’ve never thought of leaving.”
“It’s there, just below the surface; you even have your excuse ready—-that you want to complete your training.”
“What does it have to do with ... with what you’ve already suggested?”
“Only this. If you left your mother here you’d be lonely and wretched. You’d have no proper home, and though you might be one of the lucky few who marry doctors, you might just as easily be one of the others who marry the first man who’s willing, for a home and security. You have an appealing personality, Sally, and you have the gentle touch. I wouldn’t have you buffeted about while you wait for some crazy love affair to end in marriage.”
“I ... I don’t think I’m going to marry at all,” she said jerkily.
His smile was almost brotherly. “Oh, yes, you are. You know, the real trouble is that you didn’t know young Peter Mailing for long enough. If you’d got beyond the dreamy stage with him, you’d have fallen straight into the depths when you two parted—and you wouldn’t be so dogmatic about love at this moment. It would have done you the world of good.”
“How can you be so ... so nonchalant about it?” she demanded shakily. “A minute ago you called this a proposition, and that’s what it is. A cold, hateful, impossible proposition! I want nothing to do with it.”
Evenly, he said, “When we really understand each other there’ll be nothing cold or hateful about it, I assure you. I need a wife, I’m fond of you and want to make you happy, and I don’t need to point out that you’re accepted and liked here. Once the difficulties of the situation have disappeared you’ll feel more relaxed, and the distaste, or dislike, or whatever it is, will fade out.”
She put an unsteady hand to her cheek. “To you it’s all very simple. You had a fiancée in England...”
“Let’s not discuss that.”
“It’s part of the whole,” she said huskily. “I know why you think it’s a pity I didn’t have an affair with Peter. If it had ended unhappily it might have left me weak and willing. Yours was rather more than an affair, but you’re a man, so your reaction was rather different. You lost the woman you wanted, so any presentable woman will do now, and if she happens to be young and tractable...”
“Good lord, no one could call you tractable!”
“... so much the better,” she ended the sentence, as if he had not spoken. “You can’t blame me if I feel insulted!”
His posture did not alter by a fraction, but his whole body and the hawk like face became taut; his eyelids narrowed, so that the irises of his eyes looked like flashes of jet.
The odd foreign intonation came into his voice as he said, “That is a peculiar reception for the greatest compliment a man can pay a woman. You know me well enough to be sure that I’m not acting impulsively. You are also capable of weighing up the benefits to yourself. For my part, I shall be only too happy to have this situation eased and the future planned. Needless to say, my wife will always be my first consideration, in everything.”
“But you won’t be in love with her, because some other woman...”
“Others are irrelevant!” he said, at last allowing anger to become audible in his tones. “You must think it over sanely, and we’ll talk again in a few days. It will help you if I go out for the rest of the day. Tomorrow morning we’ll go out to the beach, perhaps—or wherever you wish. We’ll see more of each other, alone. I shan’t want your decision till you’re quite ready to give it.”
“You have my decision,” she said unsteadily. “For Dona Inez I’ll go along as we are for a while, but beyond that ... nothing doing.”
“Think it o
ver,” he said again. “Ask yourself what it is you really hate. Is it me, or is it a situation in which a caress becomes a stage gesture? Take your time over it. We won’t discuss it again till you’ve thought about it.” Without another word he went from the room, and Sally was left standing as she had stood throughout the interview, only a pace or two inside the door with the back of a chair behind her, for support. She slumped back against it, with the ridge of its high back across her shoulder blades. Soon, she was sure, it was going to be almost impossible to believe what she had just heard from Marcus.
CHAPTER SIX
IT was a long and totally unreal day for Sally. There was lunch outdoors with an effervescent Viola and a smiling, watchful Josef; Katarina serving them herself, while the senora slept, because she liked Josef to have the titbits he preferred. There was a strange, hazy afternoon in the garden and then tea alone with her mother.
Viola, dabbing her neatly crimsoned mouth with a wisp of lace, said this was certainly the life, wasn’t it, darling? “You go on for year after monotonous year, comparatively happy—because you’ve no experience of anything different. I’m not being disloyal to your father, Sally, but he was rather stuck in a groove, and because I was so fond of him he kept me there with him. Once he’d given me the continental honeymoon I wanted, Devonshire and the Lakes were as far as he wanted to go, and frankly, I used to find our annual leave rather a bore. I longed for something that I knew must exist, and now I’ve found it, right here on San Palos!”
“You wouldn’t be so keen on the island if the Navy weren’t here.”
“No, of course not. They turn Naval Town into a busy little slice of England, and the officers are great fun. If you hadn’t been snatched by Marcus I could have found you a nice husband among them. Mind you, they get a bit serious at times. At the moment they’re worked up because one of their launches was stolen the other day. It turned up again, but it had been used by someone who had no respect for Navy property. Seems that so far they haven’t had to guard their small craft, but they’re setting a watch, now.” She sighed, but not deeply. “You can’t imagine anything really horrid happening on San Palos, can you? Lilac harvest, grape harvest, wine-making, fiestas ... work and play, but no intrigue.”
Perchance to Marry Page 11
