The Bay of Moonlight

Home > Other > The Bay of Moonlight > Page 6
The Bay of Moonlight Page 6

by Rose Burghley


  She stopped him.

  'Nothing for me, please.'

  But he insisted on pouring her a sherry, and she stood sipping it thoughtfully, still in front of the portrait.

  'It seems to me that you are a very generous brother- in-law, senhor,' she heard herself remark, although she was not at all sure it was within her province to do so. 'Remarkably generous!'

  He smiled.

  'In England you have a "thing" about in-laws, is that it?' he asked. 'They are not always welcome—'

  'We have a joke about mothers-in-law, but ordinary in-laws don't come under the same heading. If, for instance, your sister-in-law was still living in England, and had been married to an Englishman, I doubt whether her late husband's brother would be so willing to provide for her and the members of her family, even if his financial position made it possible. He might think up some way in which he could help her—'

  His shapely black eyebrows ascended.

  'But surely, when a woman is without resources there is only one way in which a relative can help her?' he suggested. 'And that is by making her his responsibility!'

  'His entire responsibility?'

  'Of course!'

  She shook her head, in some amazement.

  'And what happens when you yourself marry, senhor?' she inquired. 'Will your wife have no objections to raise because you are burdened with the responsibilities for two families?'

  He smiled as if with amusement because she had so plainly got it all wrong, and yet it was not surprising since she was English.

  'Not my wife, senhorita,' he assured her with confidence. 'She will understand perfectly. And in any case, the situation simply will not arise because—' And then he broke off. 'But I think we have talked enough of my family and their problems for the moment. Shall we go in to dinner?'

  The dining-room was much more sombre than the sala, but it was very impressive. The furniture was all handsome Portuguese mahogany, and it was very old and beautifully preserved and gleaming with centuries of continuous high polish. There were no flowers on the table, but it was loaded with silver and there was an enormous high-piled dish of fruit as a centrepiece. Sarah unfolded her napkin that was beautifully embroidered and edged with lace, and glanced with some awe in her expression from the magnificent display on the table to the portraits in ornate frames that surrounded them on all sides of the room - each one highlighted from above by a special system of veiled electric lighting - and inquired because she suddenly felt intensely curious whether this was typical of the other houses belonging to him of which Philip Saratola had already spoken to her.

  He glanced up from unfolding his own napkin and answered on a faint note of surprise:

  'Typical? Why, no, most certainly not. This is a seaside home used for holidaying, and that sort of thing. I have brought the children here because of the sea and the quality of the air, and because it is an easy house to run and involves few complications when children move in. Senhora Delgado and her brother can cope perfectly adequately whether I am here or not... and that is important since I shall be here only very infrequently.'

  'I see,' she said.

  He smiled a trifle quizzically, his eyes resting on the soft dark gold of her hair, and then roving a little to take in the slender proportions of her figure and the light azure of her dress that was extremely simple and unadorned by anything apart from a neat gold cross that was attached to a fine gold chain about her neck.

  The expression of his eyes altered. They grew intent in a rather interested way for a moment, and then, with the arrival of the first course, their expression altered again, and he looked detached and aloof.

  'If you are interested in Portuguese houses,' he remarked, as he poured wine into her glass, 'I will arrange for you to be shown over my house in Lisbon at some time in the future when you and the children are on a visit there ... or possibly when they rejoin their mother in Lisbon. My principal home is a little farther north than this, and that, too, would possibly interest you. It is in the centre of a winemaking district, and I like to be there at harvest time because there are many celebrations in connection with the harvesting of the grapes. The architecture is traditional Portuguese, and my forebears have lived there for several centuries.' His long eyelashes flickered and between them his dark eyes gleamed at her. 'Is there anything else you would like to be told about my various homes, Miss Cunninghame?'

  She shook her head, flushing.

  'No, thank you, senhor. It was simply - simply that I am interested,' she explained.

  He smiled inscrutably.

  'Of course,' he observed. 'Architecture is a fascinating subject,' and she wondered whether he disapproved of her curiosity on the grounds that it was rather too obvious.

  She felt annoyed with herself for venturing to lead the conversation. It was up to him, as her employer, to ask questions, and for her to answer them, as she suddenly realized ... and she fell silent during the soup course and permitted him to gaze a trifle abstractedly up at the portrait of one of his ancestors, while Senhora Delgado's brother, impeccably attired as a manservant, moved quietly and soft-footedly at the far end of the room, and Senhora Delgado herself, on the other side of a hatch, handed over piping hot dishes that she had prepared herself and looked as unmoved as if she had not recently had to cope with an unexpected arrival but had spent a lot of time over a hot stove since then.

  The food was delicious and Sarah realized that Senhora Delgado must be a very valuable person indeed to her employer. There were several courses, and each one surprised her, because it was slightly more delectable than the last.

  She refused to do more than sip at her wine, having, as yet, acquired no real taste for it, and this brought down on her a head a small homily from Philip Saratola.

  'We must educate you in such matters,' he said, frowning. 'I do not in the least deplore your abstemiousness, but a knowledge and an appreciation of good wines is important. It is almost as important as a knowledge and appreciation of good food.'

  She smiled very faintly.

  'I am here to look after your niece and nephew, senhor,' she reminded him.

  'Exactly,' he agreed. 'But I do not approve of nursery meals, and you will have all your meals down here in the dining-room whether I am here or not. The children will be served exactly as we are being served tonight - except that, of course, they will not stay up to dinner, and they will not be present when guests are invited to the house. That is one rule I will have to insist you respect.'

  'Of course, senhor,' she agreed demurely.

  'And when there are guests, you yourself will take your meals all of them! - with the adults, making, arrangements for the children to be served separately.'

  'Yes, senhor,' she agreed again, but she plainly thought this a little unusual, and said so. 'I would not in the least object to having my meals with the children—'

  'But I would.' He was quite emphatic about it. 'For one thing, it might make things awkward for Senhora Delgado.'

  But she could not imagine why this should be so.

  'And by the way, senhor,' she said suddenly, remembering Maria's dislike of having no adult near her in the nursery wing, 'I hardly like to interfere with Senhora Delgado's arrangements, but the children are accustomed to having Carmelita sleeping near them, and their rooms here at La Cristola are a little out of the way, since I have been given one of the main guest rooms of the house. Carmelita's room - or the one she was to have occupied - is small by comparison with the one I have been given, but it its the advantage of being right next door to Maria's. She is rather highly strung and nervous, as you probably are aware, and if you could make it clear to Senhora Delgado that all her efforts to get the other room ready for me are much appreciated, 'but that I must be near the children—'

  'No!' He spoke with the same forcefulness as before, when he insisted that she must take her meals with any guests of his that might arrive at the villa. 'I am prepared to make a lot of concessions where these children of m
y late brother are concerned, but I am not prepared to pamper them. There is absolutely no reason why Maria should need an attendant in the next room. You will keep the room that has been made ready for you.'

  'But—'

  'There are no "buts" ... or none that I am willing to consider! Maria has Roberto to call to if she is alarmed at any time, and he certainly has passed beyond the stage of requiring a nurse in the next room.'

  'But he is very young—'

  'In Portuguese eyes he is not a baby.'

  'But still young—'

  'Please, Miss Cunninghame,' he requested, a faintly bored note in his voice that contrasted a trifle oddly with the icy flash in eyes. 'The subject has ceased to interest me, and I'm sure I've made my wishes clear. The children are to be handled sensibly and to be given as good a time while they are here as you can arrange for them, but there must be no falling over yourself to ensure that they have the last word in every situation, and no special cosseting. Remember that Maria, although diminutive for her age, is growing up quite rapidly, and may soon be sent to school in England, and Roberto is to be taken over by a tutor very soon. As a matter of fact, I meant to warn you that Senhor d'Albrantes will very likely present himself here at La Cristola within the next day or so. He has instructions to make contact with his new pupil as soon as possible.'

  'I see.' But for some reason his dogmatic decisions aroused a feeling of rebellion in her, and although she was aware that it was slightly unreasonable she had to continue the argument a bit further. 'And does that mean that he will be taken out of my hands altogether ... at any rate, during the daytime?'

  'It means that he will have to apply himself to lessons, yes.' He shrugged his shoulders. 'And what of it? The child has to begin to acquire some knowledge at some stage of his early youth, and I am all for it being as early as possible.'

  'But wouldn't nursery lessons be a better beginning than instruction by a tutor ?'

  'Most certainly not. The first thing Roberto has to learn is how to start growing up into a man, and that is something no woman can teach him. If you'll forgive my saying so, senhorita, I hardly think you are tough enough to handle him all the time.'

  Sarah bit her lip.

  'And this is a decision his mother agrees with? You don't think her ideas might be a little more - English?'

  'I can assure you they are not in the least English,' with undisguised disdain in his voice.

  'But nevertheless, she is English—'

  'She is. But where the education of her son is concerned she is entirely one with me and my ideas.'

  'I - I see.' She bit her lip again and turned away. 'Then between us Senhor d'Albrantes and I will leave Roberto little time to grow bored. He will work at his lessons for hours every day, and when he is not working at his lessons—'

  'You will see that he gets plenty, of healthful exercise on the beach, and that sort of thing.' He smiled tightly. 'The programme should be quite clear to you, Miss Cunninghame.'

  'It is - perfectly clear. If he is to have any time at all to play he will have to get up very early in the morning,' with great dryness. Her employer's eyebrows arched. 'I am a believer in early rising. And at this time of the year here in the Algarve it is an excellent thing.' He spoke dismissingly. 'Good night, Miss Cunninghame. I am sure you would like to retire to your room,' and he rose and stood somewhat stiffly beside his chair as she walked in the direction of the door.

  Sarah was relieved when she looked in on Maria to find that she was fast asleep, and Roberto was also enjoying very profound and healthy slumber.

  In her own room she undressed slowly and felt quite beguiled by the quality of the moonlight as it transformed the world outside her window and beyond her balcony. Her breath caught as she looked out at the sea, swaying rhythmically to the influence of the tide and extending as far as the horizon in serene and silvery splendour. There was something quite magical about the unearthly beauty of that sea, and it also aroused in her an extraordinary feeling of restlessness because she was not down on the white beach and approaching it with eager steps over what, she felt sure, must still be very warm and particularly seductive sand.

  The next day when she took the children down on to the beach she realized that she had been right. There was an unusually springy quality to the sand, and racing over it with bare feet provided one with a wonderful sensation.

  There was no interference at breakfast, during which the host did not put in an appearance. As it was very early in the morning Sarah wondered whether he was up - despite his approval of early rising - and she was guilty of hurrying the children in order to get them out of the house and away from any possible and unlooked-for supervision before they had had an opportunity of renewing their acquaintance with the beach.

  But she need not have worried. They had had several fairly strenuous games on the beach in addition to a revitalizing dip in the sparkling blue water before it was even half-way through the morning, and by that time they were all three a little tired and conscious of the increasing warmth of the sun, and preferred to lie stretched out in the shade of one of the curious, monsterlike rocks and call desultorily to one another.

  But it was not long before Maria was up and looking for sea-anemones, and Roberto went off oh some private investigation of his own amongst the rocks. It was quite easy for Sarah to keep track of where her charges were because there was absolutely no one else on the beach, and Maria wore a gay bright red swim- suit that made her very conspicuous against the incredibly deep blue of the sky and pale, unblemished gold of the sand, while Roberto was also fairly conspicuous in bright yellow trunks that in some way enhanced the pure yellow in his hair.

  Both children were deeply tanned, and in Roberto's case this made his appearance somewhat surprising. He was also a very sturdy little boy for his age, and Sarah found pleasure in watching him while, at the same time, she kept an alert eye open for anyone who might come looking for them along the beach - Senhor d'Albrantes, for instance, if he should choose to make his appearance so soon after their arrival. Shortly after eleven o'clock by her watch Philip Saratola emerged from between the gates of the villa, which she could see quite clearly from the beach, in his p ire white car, and drove off along the coast road and waved to them casually before he negotiated a sudden bend in the road and disappeared from their sight.

  When they returned to the villa for lunch they were informed by Senhora Delgado that the Senhor Saratola would not be joining them for lunch, and that he was, in fact, lunching with friends. Maria, who was always slightly in awe of her uncle, despite the fact that he treated her somewhat more kindly and considerately than he did his nephew, gave vent to a whoop of delight when she learned that there was to be only the three of them in the dining-room for lunch. She and Roberto were washing their hands in the bathroom and creating a good deal of noise with running water and a gurgling waste pipe when the housekeeper appeared at the door and broke the good news to them. Senhora Delgado's expression expressed disapproval, and she glanced at Sarah disapprovingly.

  Obviously she thought the children should not be encouraged to welcome the absence of their uncle, and no doubt if Carmelita had been in charge of them they would have received a sharp rebuke. But Carmelita was no longer in charge of them, and the English girl who was certainly relieved because everything she did and said for the next hour was not to be coolly criticized and commented on by the man who ill future would be paying her wages.

  And he had in fact already presented her with a month's wages in advance, which made her feel slightly guilty when she accompanied the children to the dining- room.

  Nevertheless, it was a lighthearted and fairly uninhibited meal - it would probably have been more uninhibited if Senhora Delgado's brother had not been waiting on them - and Maria seized the opportunity to upbraid Sarah for allowing her and Roberto to sleep alone in the nursery wing the night before. She had, she declared, been terribly frightened when she wakened in the early hours of the morning, while it
was still dark, and made the discovery when she crept into the room Cannelita would have occupied that there was no one there.

  Sarah explained to her that her uncle had quite bluntly refused to allow her, Sarah, to sleep in Carmelita's room, and she would have to remember that she was no longer a baby and resign herself to the knowledge that there was no one near her apart from Roberto in the night watches. Sarah tried to drive home to her the fact that she was not really alone, and all she had to do if she really needed assistance during the night was to make her way along the corridor to Sarah's own room.

  'I'm a light sleeper, and I'll come at once if you want me,' she promised. 'Why, I'd even hear you if you called out! But I wouldn't advise you to do that,' she added hastily, recoiling from the thought of what might be the result if Philip Saratola also heard her call out, and was awakened from his sleep by what he would almost certainly consider her childishness.

  Roberto, who was very brave in the daytime and had few fears at night, held his sister to scorn for feeling nervous when she was put to bed, and assured her that he could not imagine one solitary circumstance that would cause him to call out. Sarah could well believe him, for although his looks were his mother's looks and his reactions must be similar to hers in many ways, there was very little doubt about it, he was already a small edition of his uncle. He was an intensely masculine little boy, reared in the obviously hard tradition of the Portuguese.

  If Philip Saratola was anything to go by....

  After lunch it was too hot for the beach, and the children played in a shady corner of the garden. Sarah watched them from her balcony after she had written a letter to Aunt Constance in Istanbul giving her full details of ±e most unexpected job she had taken on; and, later, she and the children walked to the village and she posted the letter, and Roberto persuaded her to buy them all three an ice at the corner cafe that was already well patronized by early summer visitors.

 

‹ Prev