‘I need to go.’ She started towards the side corridor, picking up her glass as she passed the table. Another drink suddenly seemed like a very good idea after all. She stopped abruptly.
‘Luna, mi querida, is that you? I didn’t know you were in Cádiz! How long have you been in Spain? Why didn’t you let me know you were coming?’ Isabel Herrera, Marquesa de Aguila, fixed a pair of blue, reproachful eyes on her great-niece.
It took Luna a second to realize who this perfectly coiffed woman was, then her face froze in shock. She touched her fingers to her lips, still swollen from Ruy’s kiss, and her discomfiture was acute.
‘Aunt Isabel!’ she gasped.
She hadn’t seen her great-aunt in over a decade, not since the Marquesa had stayed a night with Luna and her father en route to see her son Lorenzo. From what Luna remembered of the visit, Isabel Herrera had spent most of the time reminiscing about Luna’s mother. Then, whenever Luna’s father was out of the room, making things even more uncomfortable by insinuating how tragic it was that Adalia had married Montgomery Ward, whom she blamed entirely for Adalia’s decline into drink.
Luna’s shock gave way to dismay as she stared at her aunt and, for a moment, words failed her. She had wanted to avoid getting embroiled with the Herreras for as long as possible while in Spain. Ideally, she had hoped to avoid them altogether.
The Marquesa kissed her great-niece on both cheeks. ‘Did Lorenzo know you were coming? You’d have thought he might have mentioned it to me. I get so few family visits. Then again you know how he is, so busy and important these days …’ Doña Isabel’s loud cascading laugh, which in her day had made many a man’s heart beat faster, cut through the awkward silence, almost making Luna wince.
Her fingers holding her glass began to shake slightly, so that she had to hold them steady with the other hand. ‘No, I didn’t tell him I was travelling to Spain.’
Doña Isabel’s faded blue eyes then noticed Ruy, who, having recovered his composure, had emerged from the alcove and was now standing silently behind Luna. Isabel’s tone, though polite, became noticeably cooler.
‘Dr Rueda de Calderón.’ Her lips formed the words almost stiffly as she held out her hand to him.
‘Marquesa.’ Ruy was regarding Isabel Herrera silently, his features impassive. As politeness dictated, he took the Marquesa’s outstretched hand and kissed it, though the gesture was perfunctory; then he stared hard into Luna’s agitated eyes.
‘You know my aunt?’ Luna searched his expression, noticing he had become pale, his blue eyes darkening.
‘Our families are connected,’ answered the Marquesa instead. She raised her chin and assumed a dignified air. Despite her advanced years she was still handsome, fortunate to have the type of skin that reacted favourably to face lifting. Over the years she had submitted herself to numerous operations to fight the signs of time and safeguard her beauty. Although the effect on her features was one of stillness, Luna thought, a lack of animation on a surface as smooth and brittle as bone china. Unconsciously, her mind recalled the gentle laughter lines of Ruy’s mother, Luz.
‘How is your grandfather, Salvador?’ Doña Isabel asked, without a shred of warmth. ‘I haven’t seen him in years, but then it’s been a while since I’ve been able to attend the El Pavón balls.’
‘He’s very well, thank you, Marquesa.’ Ruy scooped up his own glass and took a gulp of champagne. ‘You’ll have to excuse me, but apparently someone has been waiting to speak to me.’ He barely looked at Luna before turning and striding away towards the main reception.
Luna stared after him, a frown marring her smooth forehead. She was still quivering from his explosive touch. On the one hand, she was hugely relieved to see him go but, then again, she imagined him hurrying back to Vaina’s side and jealousy pricked at her even more sharply than before. Now here she was, stuck talking to her great-aunt alone.
‘Good, now we can talk properly,’ murmured Doña Isabel beside her. She eyed her niece closely. ‘Do you know that man?’
Luna blinked back at her, marshalling her thoughts. ‘We’ve been introduced,’ she said vaguely. Wanting to change the subject, she added quickly: ‘I haven’t seen you since I was a teenager, Aunt Isabel. I’m surprised you still recognize me.’
The Marquesa gazed at her affectionately. ‘Madre de Dios, you look so much like your poor mother! I would recognize you anywhere.’
Luna smiled thinly. ‘Yes, that’s what I’m told. I find I can’t really remember what Mamá looked like and only have a few photos of her. She didn’t figure very strongly in my childhood, to be honest. I was very young when she left.’
‘Your mother was a passionate woman, used to being pampered and adored. Your father was too busy amassing his fortune to give her the attention and love she needed, but let’s not go there,’ she said, waving her hand gracefully. She sighed and shook her head as if gently scolding a child. ‘Luna, darling, why didn’t you tell me that you were in town?’
‘I’ve only been here a week or so.’
‘Tell me, where are you staying? There’s plenty of space at my house in Jerez.’
‘Thank you, but I’ve rented a house quite close to the clinic where I work.’
The Marquesa looked warmly over her great-niece. ‘Well, my dear, my home is always open to you if you get bored living on your own. I must say, you look so like Adalia, it nearly takes my breath away.’ Her blue eyes misted. ‘Of course, you were always nothing like her, or your poor dear sister for that matter. You were so quiet and serious …’ She shook her head. ‘I never agreed with the idea of your father keeping you in America. We could have brought you out of yourself here in Spain.’
‘I’m sure Mamá could have kept me here with Juliet if she’d really wanted to,’ replied Luna more tersely than she intended. Not that she would have wanted to stay with her mother, but Adalia’s rejection still left a rawness in Luna to which she had never entirely become reconciled.
Doña Isabel caught the edge in her voice and suddenly looked awkward. ‘Yes, well, Adalia didn’t always make the best decisions. Your father wanted you with him and she agreed it was for the best, though I did try to talk some sense into her. She didn’t listen to anyone else when she got an idea in her head, though. Proud and stubborn. She and poor Juliet were very alike in that respect.’ Her face brightened. ‘Let me invite you to dinner. We have so much to catch up on.’
Luna smiled apologetically. ‘I’m afraid I came with a friend tonight.’
‘Not that de Calderón fellow?’
‘No, not him,’ she was quick to clarify. ‘My friend Charo, who’s around here somewhere.’ She scanned the room and saw Charo laughing animatedly with a group of people.
Doña Isabel looked visibly relieved. ‘Well, I don’t want to keep you from your friends, but it’s been such a long time since I’ve seen you, my dear. You’re all grown up now. It would make me so happy to hear all about what you’ve been doing with your life.’ She felt free to push, as old people do. ‘Why don’t you let me take you to a new place I know? Come on, humour your old aunt.’
‘Well, I …’
The Marquesa ploughed on. ‘There’s a small nightclub I’ve heard of where the food is apparently first-rate, run by a young Croatian and his father. There’s a band too, and I’ve been told the singer is a most talented musician.’ Her alert blue eyes softened. ‘Go on. Surely you can keep a lonely old lady company for one evening?’
Put that way, Luna could hardly refuse the invitation. At least if she had supper now, she could justify not seeing her great-aunt again for a while. In the back of her mind, she also welcomed an excuse not to witness any more of Vaina’s proprietorial behaviour with Ruy.
‘Of course, Aunt Isabel. I’m sure I can change my plans,’ she acquiesced as graciously as possible.
Isabel Herrera grasped her arm with delight. ‘Wonderful! Cadencia Tzigane is not far from here, we can walk to it.’
Luna left her aunt briefly to find
Charo and explain her predicament, apologizing for leaving without meeting the famous Miguel.
‘You will be missed, and not just by me and Miguel,’ noted Charo with a raised eyebrow and an impish grin. ‘But go, do your duty with your aunt.’
At Cadencia Tzigane, the owner, Radić Senior, welcomed them at the door. When Doña Isabel complimented him on his establishment’s excellent reputation, he gave a satisfied nod. ‘People who understand food and music usually find their way to my club. No need to spend money on advertising,’ he told them with a wave of his hand as he steered them towards their table, overlooking Plaza San Antonio.
Luna was aware that the people dining there had taken great pains to dress up and that she and her aunt were very much on view, being scrutinized with interest by the other diners as they walked through the bar, passing under high archways to get to the more secluded dining room. Obviously one came here to see and to be seen. No wonder the Marquesa had been so keen for them to dine here. Luna’s father always said that Adalia’s family were shocking snobs – it was one of the main reasons Luna did not like mixing with them.
Different from the usual nightclubs, the décor here was bright and breezy; a big, soaring space with blown-glass chandeliers and mirrored walls. Floor-to-ceiling glass windows framed the view of the street and the square outside with its magnificent Isabelline Gothic architecture. Above the trees, the twin spires of the San Antonio church could be seen. Luna watched as waiters in their crisp black-and-white uniforms rushed steaming plates loaded with architecturally arranged food to the tables. This was restaurant theatre, serving drama on a plate.
Luna was just starting on an iced tomato and cognac soup, a sort of gazpacho with a twist, when she stopped, her spoon in mid-air. She stared across the restaurant at a couple seated at a small round table halfway across the room.
Isabel Herrera followed the young woman’s gaze. ‘Dr Ruy Rueda de Calderón,’ she huffed. ‘I didn’t realize he would be here too.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘How did you say you knew him?’
‘Professionally,’ Luna said noncommittally, trying to keep hold of her fury.
‘He’s having supper with Doña Vaina Jiménez Rivera.’
‘Yes, she’s the managing director at the Institute where I work.’
‘I’ve heard of the place. I’m surprised a proper scientist like you would have anything to do with somewhere like that.’
Luna didn’t comment. It would only end up in a conversation she could do without. Mind you, the alternative wasn’t much better. Before she could change the subject entirely, Isabel continued, her eyes narrowly watching the pair at the other table.
‘I thought they’d broken off their engagement.’
Luna stiffened but continued with her soup. ‘I’m not sure if they ever were engaged or not.’ She made a herculean effort not to look over to where Ruy was sitting with Vaina. Less than two hours ago he had been kissing her wildly, his hands all over her. How dare he appear at the same restaurant with another woman, rubbing her nose in it.
‘Well, she’s a good catch, I’ll say that. He couldn’t do better for a wife.’ Doña Isabel lowered her voice unnecessarily. ‘But he’s confused, a tortured soul. You see he’s one-quarter gypsy. The mixed gajo and Calés blood that courses through his veins pulls him in different directions. Can’t make up his mind who he is, or what he wants.’
Luna beckoned to the waiter to ask for some bread, in an attempt to call a halt to the conversation, but her aunt continued without pause: ‘He graduated as a mèdico de cabecera but gave up a proper career to open that so-called clinic of his. If you ask me, it’s full of quacks and a whole lot of nonsense.’ Doña Isabel’s gaze swung sharply to her great-niece as her mind evidently put the pieces together. ‘I really hope your having a job there doesn’t put a blot on your career, querida. It does seem a strange choice. I suppose, over in New York, you weren’t to know what sort of an outfit it is, though.’
A flush of irritation spread across Luna’s cheeks. She took a gulp of wine, waiting for her aunt to take a breath, or move on to another topic. Still, she went on relentlessly: ‘He dates the most beautiful women in Andalucía but, no, he can’t be satisfied with that. Torn every which way. It’s in his blood, you see. Keeps a gypsy mistress up there in the hills too.’ She waved her hand dismissively. ‘All this herbal nonsense is the gypsy influence in him. Then there’s more, but I wouldn’t even know where to start!’
Carefully, Luna made her face blank. ‘Why are you telling me all this?’ she enquired guardedly.
‘I thought I’d give you the whole picture since you’ve already met him.’ Doña Isabel eyed her great-niece closely. ‘Just mind you don’t get brainwashed by all the nonsense at that so-called Institute. I wouldn’t put anything past that man. I’ve heard he hypnotizes patients. It feels very dubious indeed to me.’
Isabel’s gaze softened for a brief moment as she regarded her great-niece and, as if suddenly remembering her familial duties, she took a new tack: ‘A little word of advice from one who knows about these things. You’re a very beautiful woman, my dear. I have no doubt he must be drawn to you like a bee to the honeypot. Be careful, Luna. I hear he never stays with one woman for long. We all know the type, all charm and good looks, but never the decency to put a ring on a girl’s finger. For all his respectable appearance,’ Isabel huffed, her eyes like flint, ‘I’m sure he gets that ne’er-do-well streak from his father’s side. At least the de Ruedas come from civilized stock.’
Luna ignored her aunt’s appalling snootiness, but her remarks about Ruy managed to put a knife into a very fresh wound. It might have been old-fashioned to assume marriage was the natural destination for all relationships, but hearing the Marquesa’s account of Ruy’s female conquests and womanizing behaviour made her chest constrict painfully. Not that any of this information came as a surprise, of course. She’d known about his reputation before she had even met him. Hurt battled with the anger already simmering inside her.
‘If what you say is true, why does Doña Vaina put up with it? As you say, she apparently has so much to offer a man. She must have plenty of admirers.’
‘If she has a sensible head on her, she won’t want to jeopardize her chances with Ruy. If she dates someone else, then she’s sure to lose him.’
It occurred to Luna that her aunt was an old hand at strategies for ensnaring men and getting exactly what she wanted. Typical of the Herreras, she thought grimly.
‘Perhaps they’re just friends.’
Doña Isabel gave a husky laugh. ‘My dear, when you’re my age you’ll realize there’s no such thing as friendship between a man and a woman. No such thing as love either. It’s all about hormones and chemistry. Money and status too, let’s not forget that.’
Luna frowned. ‘That’s a bit bleak, Aunt Isabel.’
‘On the contrary, querida. That way you always know where you stand.’
‘Well, since he apparently dates other people, she must be a fool not to do the same.’
Doña Isabel smiled indulgently at her niece’s naïvety. ‘If you are to spend time in Spain, Luna, you must appreciate our men have one set of rules for women and quite another for themselves.’
‘That macho hypocrisy is the one side of Spanish culture that I dislike intensely.’
‘Well, then you’d be wise to steer clear of Don Ruy. He’s as male as they come and commitment is not on offer,’ the Marquesa said pointedly.
Luna briefly closed her eyes, not wanting to hear any more. She felt slightly sick, feeling that between them, her aunt, Ruy and Vaina had somehow managed to sully her. There was something sordid in their little games and she wanted no part in it. Oh, for the clean white space of her beach house. She longed to lock herself in and take to her bed, close her eyes, and hope that when she opened them again all this would have gone away.
When she opened her eyes, however, she could not stop herself from glancing over at Ruy. She found him staring right at her and her mi
nd was instantly thrown into turmoil once more. The look on his face was completely unfamiliar to her, unreadable.
They had finished their main course and while waiting for dessert, Doña Isabel lit a long, thin cigarette.
‘I should also warn you against him for another reason,’ her aunt went on. ‘I don’t know how much you’ve been told, but there’s been bad blood between our family and the de Ruedas for many years.’
Luna had been about to ask the Marquesa if they could possibly talk about something else but this remark stopped her in her tracks. ‘What kind of bad blood?’
‘The kind that is not easily forgiven,’ answered Doña Isabel, her mouth pinched into a thin line as she blew out a plume of smoke. ‘The women in their family developed an unfortunate habit of stealing men from their rivals, shamelessly and ruthlessly.’ Doña Isabel gave an indignant sniff. ‘I myself was once engaged to Count Salvador de Rueda.’
Luna’s eyes widened, remembering the suave old gentleman who had been such a charming host at the El Pavón ball. The last thing she wanted was to admit to her aunt that she’d been invited there by Ruy, or that she’d met his grandfather, so she kept quiet.
‘Yes, I’m sure you didn’t know that,’ the Marquesa nodded selfrighteously. ‘But as soon as she arrived from England, Alexandra de Falla, that was her maiden name, managed to ingratiate herself with her Spanish family and proceeded to manipulate Count Salvador until I was quite forgotten. She even promised herself to my brother, Felipe, at the same time, and was caught with Don Salvador on the very night Felipe was to announce their engagement.’
Isabel Herrera’s faded blue eyes flashed with a look of disdain, which Luna thought something more akin to hatred. ‘It was truly scandalous and, I can tell you, for months our family was the subject of humiliating stories in aristocratic Spanish circles. To add insult to injury, history repeated itself a generation later when Luz de Rueda did the same thing to poor Adalia. Everyone knew that Adalia was virtually engaged to Andrés de Calderón. They were inseparable, but it didn’t stop Doña Luz.’
Legacy Page 25
