Fascination
Page 5
‘What did Ellie say?’ His brusque demand was no less disconcerting because it was expected. Hydee looked up into his eyes and asked him to forget it, but he shook his head, repeating the question. She bit her lip, groping for words, and when at last she spoke, it was in a tone of resignation not untinged with anxiety in case she should anger him.
‘She said that as we were married it was very likely that . . . that you would . . . would assert your rights.’ Warmth and bright crimson rushed into her cheeks. ‘I . . . I expect she was wrong though,’ added Hydee in an attempt to moderate what she had said.
A brittle silence followed as Carlos stared down into her anxious face, his expression inscrutable except for the humourless, unpleasant smile that twisted his lips.
‘Time alone will tell if your friend was wrong,’ was all he said. But he added over his shoulder as he moved towards the communicating door, ‘We shall dine early tonight—at seven o’clock. In the meantime, do what you like—find your way around.’
She stared at the closed door and wondered bewilderedly why a hurtful cloud of tears had built up behind her eyes.
Chapter Six
The shadows of twilight were veiling the gardens, and the whole aspect was one of peace and tranquillity, with the birds and insects resting after the activities of the day.
Hydee loitered among the flowerbeds, for it was still light enough to appreciate colour and form and beauty. She had been at the Palacio for almost a week and had spent most of the time profitably in exploring her surroundings and in getting to know the servants. She had hoped to see Doreen before she returned to England, but was disappointed. The children would be coming to the Palacio tomorrow, brought by their Aunt Isobella, and for some inexplicable reason Hydee was conscious of a strange feeling of uneasiness which at times actually over shadowed the excitement with which she awaited the arrival of the children. It was nothing tangible that caused her to be apprehensive of the meeting with her husband’s sister, and yet, subconsciously, she expected it to be an ordeal.
However, she told herself that nothing could be gained by idle speculation, and she managed to thrust her new and unknown sister‐in‐law from her mind and to concentrate instead on the glories of nature which surrounded her. The grounds were so vast and rambling that there were still regions she had not explored, and now she directed her steps away from what had become familiar and proceeded towards an arched wrought‐iron gateway above which was the Manrique crest in red and gold. It led to a pathway made shady and silent by the interlacing branches of the stately laurel trees overhead. She walked on, savouring the peace, her mind now and then insistently bringing the face and figure of her husband before her eyes.
For the past three days she had known strange stirrings of pulse and heart when in his presence. She was becoming aware of his maleness and magnetism . . . and of the fact that he was her husband. . . .
Determinedly concentrating on where she was going, she continued along the path for another few minutes before stopping abruptly with a gasp of pleasure and appreciation. Before her was an exquisite little fountain whose waters were dancing in an oval, wide‐edged poo! along which were earthenware pots containing sweetly perfumed flowers and small trees with yellow and crimson foliage. Around the outside edge were charming stone benches, their high backs decorated with the branching coat‐of‐arms of the Manrique family. Fish darted about in the crystal‐clear water, and even in the fading light their colours could be seen and Hydee surmised they would be iridescent when caught in sunlight. Another path caught her eye, and she moved to look along it. Its entire length was a stupendous mass of colour from the thousands of dahlias bordering its sides, and at the end was a gazebo constructed in the form of a Doric temple. Between its fluted columns were windows around which jasmine grew in abundance. What a picture it would make when the flowers were in full bloom in the late spring and early summer!
‘Oh, but I’m looking forward to the thrill of seeing each season come and go!’ she said aloud. ‘What a lot I have to look forward to—’ Her voice died abruptly as a sound caught her ears. She swung round, heart thumping. ‘Oh . . . it’s you. . . .’ Her sigh of relief was almost audible.
‘You’re going to be caught in the dark.’ Carlos’s voice was smoothly impersonal as he came up to her from behind. ‘Have you not been along here before?’
She shook her head, pulses fluttering. He was close—too close; she could smell his after‐shave mingling pervasively with his own male fragrance, and the startling knowledge invaded her mind that she was fighting an emotion that was physical desire.
Desire. . . . Shyness and embarrassment swept through her, and she could not lift her eyes to meet his gaze lest she reveal what her emotions were. How furious he would be if he were to read her mind, to discover that in this short period of time she had found him attractive.
’I asked you a question, Hydee,’ he reminded her, and before she quite knew what was happening, she felt the hard pressure of his long lean fingers as he tilted her head back, forcing her to meet his all‐examining eyes. The contact with his flesh sent a quiver of pleasure rippling along her spine. She wanted those fingers to move from beneath her chin to her throat, to hypersensitive places she had learned about when she was engaged to Noel. She wanted to feel his hand cupping her breast, his moist lips exploring it. . . . Hot colour flooded her cheeks, and she sprang away from him, ashamed and angry at her secret thoughts and wishing with all her heart she had not decided on this particular exploration but had kept to the more public part of the grounds.
‘I haven’t been in this part before.’ She managed at last to answer his question, vitally aware of his frowning puzzlement at her action in springing away from him so abruptly. But why had he touched her? His manner with her was always one of cool politeness, yet just now he had actually made what could only be described as an intimate gesture, proprietary, as if she really were his wife in every sense.
He made no response to her quiet words, and an uneasy silence dropped between them as they stood there looking at the gazebo, its mellowed stone dark and shadowed as twilight dissolved into the enveloping folds of night. Suddenly all Hydee’s tensions were dissolved, too, as if the mothy darkness had provided a protective barrier against her unwanted emotions and impossible desires.
‘Shall we make our way back?’ Carlos broke the silence at last, and she lifted her eyes to meet his. ‘You’ll not want to stay out here alone, surely?’ No concern in his voice, and no interest, either. Hydee wondered if his attitude towards her would change once his children were back with him.
‘No, of course not.’ She fell into step beside him as he moved, taking the way past the fountain and pool to enter the path bordered by the high laurels. There was just sufficient room for them to walk side by side, and although she did not suppose he would be happy if their bodies touched, she also knew that he would not expect her to walk a few paces behind him. Of course, she could have gone on in front, but she chose to keep by his side, becoming intensely aware, as they went along, that the barrier protecting her emotions was being effectively attacked; she was vitally alive to his nearness and the intimacy that it inevitably created in her receptive senses. She deliberately moved so that her body rubbed against his; she let her hand touch his, and hoped he would presume it to be by accident rather than the deliberate act that it was.
Throbbing pulse and racing heartbeats; yearning and desire in a riot of conflicting emotions that threatened to sweep away all control and lead her to remind her husband that they were in reality on their honeymoon! What was the matter with her that this feeling had come with such force and turbulence? Why hadn’t it come slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, so that she would have been warned and armed and able to quench the fire even before it began to smoulder? As it was, she felt herself to be consumed by flames that could in the end destroy her altogether, because there was no hope of reciprocation on her husband’s part, no future for them physically. . . .
/> Or was there? Perhaps, but if ever Carlos did take her, asserting his rights as prophesied by her friend, it would be done on impulse to assuage a craving of the flesh, and she would be left hurt and bruised and nursing an aching heart. It would be far better to make sure that she never gave away her secret, never allowed him to suspect that he would meet with success should he make approaches, reminding her that she was his wife.
They walked on in silence; the sun’s last lingering light had gone, but the moon was up, creating a scene of celestial splendour, with intrepid stars piercing the indigo as the sky darkened swiftly over the gardens and vineyards and the river below.
‘I’ll see you at dinner,’ Carlos said as they entered the Palacio at last.
‘Yes,’ she returned briefly, and left him, ascending the magnificent balustraded stiarcase while he strode away to the end of the great hall where his study was located in the west wing of the house.
The children arrived the following afternoon, and Hydee was introduced to their aunt. Isobella’s manner was cold, but her brother seemed not to notice, and within a couple of minutes of her arrival he was called to the telephone, leaving the two women with the children, who immediately decided to go out to the garden and play. Isobella moved with the grace and sleekness of a cat and took possession of a chair. Hydee looked at her from a small distance, noticing the impassive face and black, long‐lashed eyes below curving brows. Her skin was dark and clear, her neck arched above gently sloping shoulders. Pride was written in every line and curve of the slender body, and Hydee disliked her with an intensity that seemed absurd, since they were still strangers.
‘ Your marriage to my brother came as a shock,’ the woman said at last, her tone glacier cold, her eyes narrowed and glinting. ‘We all suspected that Carlos would take a step like that, but we hoped the new marquesa would fit the position she was to occupy. But you . . . .’
Blood rushed to Hydee’s cheeks at the outspokenness of the woman who was her sister‐in‐law, the contemptuous words stinging more painfully than the lash of a whip. But by some miracle Hydee remained both calm and dignified, for she was suddenly determined not to let herself be regarded as inferior, even though she felt she was unfit for the position she now occupied.
‘As I am sure you regret your uncalled‐for rudeness just now, I will allow it to pass. As for your remark about my marriage to your brother coming as a shock—well, as you had no idea whom he was marrying, and as you had never set eyes on me until a few moments ago, I’m afraid I’m baffled as to exactly what you mean.’
It was Isobella’s turn to colour up, and in that moment Hydee knew she had made an enemy, for dark venom looked out from her eyes, and her mouth was twisted into an ugly, almost evil line. ‘You’re impertinent!’ she hissed. ‘You’re a nobody—a girl who’s obviously congratulating herself on having landed a millionaire, with a title thrown in as a bonus!’
Hydee could only stare, trying to maintain her dignity and to hit back in a way this woman would understand. It seemed incredible that she could be so uncontrolled and cruel, and Hydee felt sure there must be some very good reason for it.
‘I think,’ she said coldly at length, ‘that we had better not carry on this . . . er . . . conversation any longer. I must go and join my stepchildren, who, I am sure, have been waiting eagerly to come home to join their father and me. It’s hardly fair to leave them out there. If you will excuse me . . .’
‘Just a minute!’ Isobella’s voice was harsh and commanding; it was also strongly accented, which it had not been before. ‘When I said my brother’s marriage to you was a shock, I meant that we had heard he had married someone who had applied for the post of nanny—’
‘Who told you that?’ broke in Hydee, then realised it must have been Doreen, who, no doubt, had merely mentioned it in passing, never for one moment suspecting it would be used in this derogatory way.
‘It isn’t important,’ snapped Isobella tautly. ‘My brother ought to have chosen a woman who was his equal; we all expected it of him, and as he knew this, we naturally took it for granted that he would respect our wishes!’
Hydee could not help smiling. ‘I should have thought you would know your brother better than that,’ she said. ‘Carlos is not the man to be told what to do.’ Had he chosen her, Hydee, as an act of defiance towards his relatives? she wondered, then immediately rejected the idea. Carlos would not be so petty. He had chosen her for no other reason than that he considered she would be a suitable person to bring up his children—with his help, of course.
‘There is another woman who would have suited him far better.’ Isobella’s voice was scarcely audible, and Hydee realised she was talking to herself.
She said quietly, ‘It was plain that Carlos did not consider this other woman to be suitable.’
‘As a nanny?’ with a raising of the immaculately trimmed eyebrows. ‘That is all you are; I suppose you realise that?’
‘The children will soon come to regard me as their stepmother,’ replied Hydee with conviction and dignity.
‘An optimist, eh?’ Isobella’s sudden laugh was in effect a sneer. ‘How long do you expect to last? There have been other nannies—’
‘Perhaps,’ interrupted Hydee, looking straight at her, ‘you will tell me what this is all about?’
There was a glacial silence before the Portuguese woman spoke. She had been debating, Hydee thought, and her words served to strengthen this idea.
‘I was a very great friend of Eunice, his first wife. I am also a friend of the woman who expected to marry him: Arminda Venancio. You are an interloper in my eyes, and I am sure that all Carlos’s relations will regard you in the same light. You’ll never fit in,’ she added contemptuously, casting her eyes over Hydee’s slender figure before deliberately bringing them back to rest upon her face. ‘A lowborn—what was he thinking about!’ The words were spat out from lips that were twisted with fury. ‘I wouldn’t give the marriage more than six months at the most!’
Hydee, very pale now and trembling, looked at Isobella for a long moment in silence before, turning on her heel, she left the room and went out to join the children.
It was ten days later that Hydee met Arminda Venancio. The other woman drove up to the front of the Palacio in a long black car which she brought to a stop on the forecourt. Hydee was in her bedroom, standing at the window. She was free until half‐past three, when the children came home from the small private school which they attended five days a week. Hydee’s eyes flickered with perception as she looked down, instinctively knowing that this was the woman who had hoped to marry Carlos. She was small and dainty, her steps swift and urgent as she hurried from the car to the door of the Palacio. Hydee stared broodingly at the car, her thoughts turning to her encounter with her husband’s sister. Those blatant insults seemed unbelievable, looked at in retrospect. Isobella might have breeding, and blue blood in her veins, but her manners certainly left a great deal to be desired. What would Carlos say if he knew how his wife had been treated? He had seemed to get along very well with Isobella, and Hydee had no doubts about her being able to effectively hide her shortcomings from him.
A quiet knock on her bedroom door brought her head around. ‘Come in,’ she invited, and Caterina entered.
‘The senhor wishes to see you,’ she said with her usual ready smile. Small and dark, with flashing eyes widely set below delicately curving brows, Caterina was a most attractive girl in Hydee’s opinion. Her disposition was carefree and lively; she was eager to please in every way, while at the same time respecting Hydee’s wishes for privacy. She had learned never to appear when Hydee was dressing or in the bath. She was observant, and Hydee felt sure that she had guessed that Carlos never visited his wife. But Hydee was also sure that whatever Caterina suspected was never talked about to any of the other servants.
‘Thank you, Caterina,’ she returned graciously. ‘I’ll be down directly.’ She paused a moment in a mood of indecision. ‘Er . . . he has a visit
or with him, I think?’
Caterina’s face was impassive as she said, ‘Yes, Dona Hydee, he has.’
Hydee licked her lips. She ought not to put questions to her maid. Carlos would be furious at such undignified behavior, but of course, he would never know. Hydee just had to ask about Arminda, because she very much feared she would be equally as hostile towards her as Isobella had been.
‘The young lady is a very good friend of Dom Carlos, I believe?’
Caterina nodded, looking straight at her. Silence reigned for a space before she said in a quiet, respectful voice, ‘We all thought that the senhorita would marry Dom Carlos. They were very good friends, as you say, senhora, but it was obvious that Dom Carlos did not love her, and so he married you.’
‘She comes from an illustrious family, I’m told.’
‘But, senhora,’ said Caterina in the same respectful voice, ‘it is not always breeding that is important. Dom Carlos’s servants are very happy that he married you and not Dona Arminda.’
Hydee looked at her through eyes that were suddenly bright. ‘Thank you, Caterina,’ she murmured simply, and went past her from the room, leaving her to close the door behind her.
‘Ah, there you are.’ Carlos smiled as Hydee entered, and beckoned her over to where the Portuguese woman was standing, her aristocratic features rather drawn, her dark eyes brooding and dull. Hydee cast her husband a searching glance, wondering what had passed between him and Arminda before he sent for her to join them. He met her eyes, but she read nothing from the mask that had fallen over them.
Carlos introduced them; Hydee saw the woman flinch when Carlos mentioned the word ‘wife.’ Her handshake was surprisingly limp and conventional, her manners rather better than those of her friend, for she murmured a polite ‘How do you do? Your marriage to Carlos came as a surprise to many people.’
She was bearing up well, thought Hydee, admiring her for it while at the same time aware that she could never like the girl. Her disdain was too obvious; like Isobella, she considered Hydee to be the most unsuitable woman Carlos could ever have chosen as a wife.