The Butterfly Box

by Santa Montefiore

  with a chuckle, omitting to mention that Cynthia’s love was at times claustrophobic and his father’s overbearing.

  ‘I think you probably deserve it. You must have suffered terribly,’ she said, and squeezed his arm compassionately.

  He frowned at her. ‘You’ve suffered, haven’t you?’ he said gently, tilting his head to one side. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’

  Federica found herself letting him into her life. Her tongue loosened with the alcohol and the beauty of the surroundings, allowing all the pain to slip out uncensored. She hadn’t meant to, but there was something in his eyes and his smile that drew her to him. He seemed to see right through her, slicing away her defences with each piercing gaze and understanding what he saw. ‘You poor darling thing,’ he said, noticing that she had begun to shiver and putting an arm around her shoulders. ‘You need someone to look after you. I grew up with too much love, you’ve grown up with too little.’

  ‘Not at all,’ she said, attempting to blink away the light feeling in her head. ‘I’ve been very lucky.’

  ‘Don’t fool yourself, sweetness, everyone needs a mother and a father. If

  you’re lucky like me to have a wonderful stepparent, that can make up for the loss of a natural parent in many ways. But Arthur’s obviously not a patch on your father.’

  ‘He certainly isn’t!’ she exclaimed hotly. ‘I can’t stand him.’

  ‘Well, it’s time you had someone to think about you for a change. Your mother didn’t think about you when she left Chile, did she? Your father didn’t put you first either. You need someone to put you first.’ He pulled out another rug and wrapped it around her. She suddenly felt emotional but didn’t know whether it was because she was talking about her father or because he had said that he was too old for her. She wanted to tell him that he wasn’t too old for her, but she didn’t have the courage. Silently she opened her heart to him and hoped that he might notice.

  ‘Don’t be sad,’ he whispered, watching her eyes glitter like the water of the Thames.

  She shook her head. ‘Oh, I’m not sad,’ she replied and smiled wistfully. ‘I’m very happy. I’m happy to be here sharing this beautiful night with you. You’ve been sweet listening to me. Don’t get the wrong idea. I’ve had a magical childhood and I’ve been very happy. Some people, like you, suffer the death of a

  parent, sometimes a whole family. I really have nothing to complain about. Papa’s not dead, is he?’

  ‘No, he’s not dead, just thoughtless,’ he said, squeezing her. ‘I’m going to make you very happy,’ he avowed. He lifted her chin with his hand and wiped away her melancholy with his thumb. ‘I’ve found you now,’ he said before kissing her salty lips. She responded with eagerness as his rough face scratched at her skin and his wet lips parted hers to penetrate her innocence and claim it for himself. In those moments of intimacy Federica forgot Sam’s tender kisses because she had finally found a man who promised to love her and protect her and erase the scars of abandonment.

  Chapter 30

  ‘Fede’s in love,’ Hester said to her mother who stood at the foot of the Christmas tree directing Sam with a vague wave of her hand.

  ‘No, darling, a little more to the left, there,’ she said, ‘now let’s see if Angus will fly in.’

  Sam stepped down from the ladder and looked up at the nest that he had secured firmly onto the top branch. ‘Who’s she in love with?’ he asked, folding the steps away.

  ‘He’s so handsome you’ll faint,’ said Hester. ‘He’s dark with the palest green eyes you ever saw. Sends her presents all the time. Do you know, Mum, he flew her off to Paris just for the day and bought her bags of clothes. You won’t recognize her now. She’s so sophisticated.’

  Sam flopped onto the sofa, stretching his legs out in front of him and placing his hands behind his head.

  ‘To think she was once in love with you,’ Hester added with a grin.

  ‘No she wasn’t,’ Sam replied aggressively. ‘At least not since she was a child.’

  ‘Where’s Angus. ANGUS!’ Ingrid shouted, casting her eyes about the room. ‘He was in here a moment ago,’ she complained, her agitated fingers playing with the monocle that hung between her large bosoms.

  ‘He’s probably flown outside,’ Sam said irritably.

  ‘In this cold, I doubt it,’ she replied, sweeping into the hall with the skirts of her ethnic dress billowing out behind her like the sails of a ship. ‘Molly, have you seen Angus?’ she said as Molly wandered past her into the sitting room.

  ‘Yes, he’s in the library with Nuno. He’s trying to teach him to read.’ She sighed, rolling her eyes. ‘For God’s sake, he’s a dove, not a parrot!’

  ‘So, Mol, what’s Federica’s new boyfriend like?’ Sam asked, recalling out of the mists of his memory the innocent evening he had shared with her in the barn and the brief walk they had enjoyed on the hill.

  ‘He’s nice,’ said Molly, sitting down next to her brother. ‘Great tree!’ she exclaimed. ‘But I don’t think Angus is going to like it in there, he’s happier in Dad’s dressing room.’

  ‘Is that all? Nice?’ he persisted curiously, wondering why he felt rattled.

  ‘Well,’ said Molly, pushing her auburn hair off her face. ‘He’s handsome and charming . . . but. . .’ She paused, trying to put her thoughts into words. ‘He’s

  a little too good to be true,’ she said decisively. ‘Mind you, Fede looks marvellous. I tell you, Sam, you won’t recognize her.’

  ‘She really does,’ Hester agreed.

  Molly loathed talking about Federica and Torquil. Every time she saw them together she felt a nagging jealousy and hated herself for it.

  ‘Is she happy?’ Sam asked somewhat grudgingly.

  ‘She’s infatuated,’ said Molly tightly.

  ‘Yes, she’s happy,’ Hester replied. ‘I’ve never seen her so happy. He gives her so much attention. Calls her all the time, takes her out. She’s blossoming.’

  ‘He looks like her father,’ Molly stated.

  ‘Her father?’ Sam exclaimed, appalled. ‘How old is he, for God’s sake?’

  ‘Thirty-eight,’ Molly said, raising her eyebrows at her brother, indicating her disapproval.

  ‘What the hell is she doing with someone so old!’ Sam retorted crossly. ‘He’s twenty years older than she is.’

  ‘Age doesn’t matter if they love each other,’ Hester argued.

  ‘Yes it does,’ Sam interjected. ‘She’s impressionable.’

  ‘What’s the difference? She’ll be impressionable with whoever she goes out

  with.' said Hester.

  ‘I don’t like the sound of it at all.' Sam sighed, taking off his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose between his finger and thumb.

  ‘Well, you can tell her yourself, she’s coming over for drinks tonight,’ Molly suggested. ‘But she’s not bringing Torquil,’ she added in disappointment.

  Sam marched across the cliffs with Trotsky and Amadeus, his mother’s new spaniel, watching the waves wrestle with the rocks below, covering them in white foam before retreating to gain momentum for another lashing. He braced himself against the icy wind, pulling his coat around him tightly and hunching his shoulders in an effort to keep warm. Trotsky strode along behind his feet, using him as a shield against the wind, while Amadeus rushed about in a hurry to sniff everything. He thought about Federica crossly, unable to understand why he cared. The kiss in the barn had been a sweet moment of innocent pleasure. It had meant nothing more than that: a kiss on a rainy night. He hadn’t planned on kissing her, it had just happened. Afterwards he had felt guilty for taking advantage of her. It was so obvious that she adored him. Then he had impulsively offered to drive her back to her uncle’s house one autumn

  day and they had walked in that heavenly golden light. He had wanted to kiss her up there overlooking the sea. It had been the most romantic moment of his life. That sky, that colour, those smells and Federica looking innocent and et
hereal. He couldn’t admit his longing, even to himself. She was so much younger than him. He could have anyone he wanted, but Fede had been too young and out of bounds. He thrust his hands into his pockets and sighed heavily. He had felt guilty for desiring her, so he had avoided her again. A cowardly way to go about things, but it was all he could do. He had managed to convince himself that he felt nothing for her whatsoever. But now she was in love with someone else. He wasn’t used to not being the focus of her affections. He hoped the relationship wouldn’t last. First relationships often didn’t.

  This Torquil Jensen rings a bell,’ Toby said as they drove up the lane to the manor.

  ‘You won’t have met him,’ Federica replied from the back seat.

  ‘We have met him,’ Julian insisted, shaking his head. ‘But I can’t remember when.’

  ‘He’s a bit old for you, Fede.’

  ‘He’s older but not too old,’ Federica replied happily ‘Love strikes regardless of age. And we love each other.’

  ‘Please tell me he hasn’t deflowered you yet, sweetheart?’ Julian asked anxiously. ‘I’ll kill him if he’s laid a finger on you.’

  Federica laughed. ‘No, not yet,’ she replied in amusement, feeling a shudder of excitement at the thought of making love to Torquil for the first time.

  ‘Thank God for that!’ Julian sighed.

  ‘Don’t let him push you into doing anything you don’t want to do. He’s a man of experience but you’re a child.’

  ‘Darling Toby, I’m not a child any more,’ she said. ‘I’m eighteen.’

  ‘So grown up,’ Toby replied sarcastically.

  ‘Just don’t do anything stupid. You’ll go through lots of boyfriends before you find Mr Right,’ said Julian. ‘And we want to vet all of them.’

  ‘Well, you can meet Torquil whenever you like,’ she said, leaning forward between the seats. ‘You’ll love him. He’s handsome, funny, sophisticated, worldly • • •’

  ‘He must have some faults,’ said Toby. ‘We all have faults.’

  ‘Not Torquil.’ She sighed dreamily. ‘He’s perfect.’

  Toby and Julian locked eyes, but it wasn’t the moment to share their wisdom.

  When Federica walked into the sitting room at Pickthistle Manor, where her mother, Arthur and Hal were already celebrating Christmas Eve with glasses of champagne and admiring the pretty white dove that sat at the top of the tree observing them, Sam felt as if someone had just thumped him in the stomach. She looked radiant in a pair of black leather trousers and pale blue cashmere sweater that clung to her slim frame, emphasizing the swell of her breasts in the V of the neckline. Her long white hair shone with health and fell about her shoulders, setting off the pale skin of her face and the depth of her tanzanite eyes. She embraced Hester and Molly and remained a while by the door talking with animation. Sam felt his throat constrict and drained his glass of champagne in an effort to loosen it. He watched her without distraction. Molly and Hester were right, she looked different. She looked happy.

  Nuno was the first to mention the transformation. ‘Cara mia,’ he sighed his approval. The duckling has grown into a swan.’

  ‘Pa, she was never a duckling,’ said Ingrid in Federica’s defence. She

  brought her cigarette holder up to her scarlet lips and dragged in exasperation, the way she always did when she found her father’s comments inappropriate.

  ‘Compared to the swan, my dear, she was a duckling,’ he retorted firmly, smiling at Federica.

  ‘Thank you, Nuno,’ she laughed. Then her eyes fell on the tortured face of Sam, who still watched her from the sofa. She returned his gaze with a smile, but he didn’t smile back. He turned to Toby who was seated beside him as if he were ashamed to have been caught looking.

  ‘It’s the new London life,’ Helena said. ‘Hal’s going to go to university, though,’ she added, desperately trying to lure her son out of his sulk with compliments. But Hal scowled at his mother. He knew he’d never get into a university and had no desire to go. He had only come to the drinks party because she had begged him to. He didn’t like Lucien much, he was too clever, just like his brother Sam, whom he didn’t like either. They both made him feel inadequate. He watched his sister in the doorway and resented the attention she was getting; he wasn’t used to the spotlight shining on her. But when she sat down next to him his bitterness mollified and he allowed her to coax him out of his mood.

  ‘How’s it going at school?’ she asked. He shook the black hair that fell over his forehead and looked up at her with their father’s dark chocolate eyes.

  ‘All right,’ he replied impassively.

  ‘You’re frustrated there, aren’t you?’ she said sympathetically.

  ‘I want to leave as soon as possible.’

  ‘And university is not an option,’ she added, noticing the rebellious curl in his mouth when he grinned.

  ‘Right,’ he said, glancing across the room at Helena.

  ‘Don’t worry. You won’t have to go. You can do what you like. Come to London. You’d love London,’ she said enthusiastically.

  ‘The minute I leave school I’m out of here. I’m sick of Cornwall.’ He scowled. ‘I’m sick of living with Mama and Arthur. It’s claustrophobic. I need my space. I don’t need anyone looking over my shoulder all the time.’

  ‘It’s not for much longer,’ she said. ‘Then you’ll be free.’

  Once more she raised her eyes to find them unwittingly lock into Sam's. He got up with the excuse of going to get another bottle of champagne from the kitchen and disappeared out of the room. Federica left Hal to wallow in self-pity and followed him.

  ‘Hi, Sam,’ she said, finding him alone patting the dogs. He looked up at her in surprise and his face broke into a small smile.

  ‘Hi, Federica,’ he replied casually. ‘How are you?’

  ‘I’m well. Do you have anything soft?’

  ‘Soft?’

  ‘To drink.’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ he replied, feeling stupid. ‘Lemonade, Coca-Cola, orange juice?’ ‘Orange juice would be nice. Thank you.’

  He opened the fridge and pulled out a jug of freshly squeezed juice. He poured it unsteadily into a glass and wondered why after having known her for over ten years she suddenly had the power to make him nervous.

  ‘I gather London is treating you well,’ he said, endeavouring to extend the conversation in order keep her in the kitchen. Federica noticed that he was beginning to lose his hair. It was no longer blond but darker and cut very short. He looked older and less glossy than before. He blinked at her from behind his glasses and handed her the drink.

  ‘I really enjoy it,’ she replied, leaning back against the worktop.

  ‘I hear from Molly and Hester that you’ve got a new boyfriend,’ he said,

  trying to look pleased for her, but all he could muster was a tight smile that sat awkwardly on his face.

  Federica was barely able to contain her excitement. When she talked about Torquil her eyes sparkled and her skin glowed. Sam felt his stomach churn with resentment.

  ‘Yes. He’s lovely,’ she said and grinned broadly. ‘Molly and Hester have met him.'

  ‘What does he do?’

  ‘He works in property,’ she replied. ‘He has his own company.’

  Sam raised his eyebrows, trying to look impressed. ‘Good. I look forward to meeting him,’ he lied.

  ‘I never see you these days,’ she said, shaking her head regretfully. ‘Funny, we all live in the same city and yet, you don’t even come around to see your sisters.’

  ‘I know.’ He sighed, wishing he had been around more often. ‘We move in different worlds.’

  ‘Time goes so fast, doesn’t it?' she mused. ‘I’ll never forget that day you rescued me from the lake.’

  ‘Or the time I kissed you in the barn.' he added and looked at her steadily, silently wondering why on earth he had brought it up.

  Federica’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. ‘It was nice.' sh
e replied tightly, trying to dissemble. ‘It seems eons ago.'

  ‘It was your first kiss.' he said, watching her carefully.

  ‘But not my last,’ she retaliated boldly. He lowered his eyes, remembering the dreaded Torquil and stared into the bottom of his glass. ‘It was nice of you to initiate me into the world of romance, Sam. I should thank you,’ she said coolly, recalling the pain his indifference had caused her and wanting to punish him for it. ‘I’d better get back to the sitting room. They’ll all wonder what we’re doing in here. After all, it wasn’t so long ago that I had a crush on you.’ She laughed flippantly. ‘But we all grow up in the end, don’t we?’ she said before leaving Sam alone to chew on her words.

  But Federica didn’t go back into the sitting room. She went into the bathroom and locked the door behind her. She sat on the seat and waited for her heartbeat to slow down and for the colour to drain away from her hot face. She was no longer afraid of Sam, but he had hurt her and she couldn’t forgive him for that. He had played with her feelings for amusement and then dropped her

  once his fun had been had. She was no longer infatuated with him. She felt little more than the sweet afterglow of her first innocent love. But she recognized in his eyes a glimmer of regret, a glint of disappointment. She sensed that her new relationship with Torquil infuriated him and it gave her pleasure. He was too late. She belonged to someone else. He had missed his moment and she hoped he would live to regret it.

  Federica soon forgot her brief confrontation with Sam. She returned to London after Christmas and into the all-consuming arms of Torquil. When he told her he was taking her skiing to Switzerland for a long weekend, just the two of them, she knew he was going to make love to her and hastily she booked an appointment with the doctor.

  She thought about sex often. When he kissed her she longed for his hands to explore her body and discover it as she had explored it and discovered it as a child. Her limbs ached from wanting him so much, but she needed to be sure that he was going to stay. Her deepest fear was of opening up and giving herself to him only to watch him walk out of her life afterwards, leaving her broken and humiliated. She had to trust him first. But little by little Torquil