by Anne Hampson
‘You’re making things even worse,’ she pointed out quietly.
‘Because I have my back to the wall,’ he retorted, and again she detected a hint of anger in his voice.
‘It’s very plain that Carlos’s visit to London has some kind of mystery surrounding it.’
‘That’s not so,’ he immediately denied. ‘Carlos often goes to London on business—’ He broke off as Bento knocked quietly and entered, with the information that Dona Isobella had called.
‘Didn’t you tell her that Dom Carlos is away?’ said Hydee with a frown.
‘I did, senhora, but she then said she would like to see you.’
‘What now?’ said Gasper, exchanging glances with Hydee. ‘Not a friendly, affectionate sisterly visit, I’ll be bound.’ He seemed troubled, she thought, which only served to add to her puzzlement and disturbance of mind.
‘I could very well have done without a visit from my haughty sister-in-law at this particular time,’ she sighed, voicing her thoughts aloud.
‘Shall I show her in, senhora?’ Bento’s voice sounded a trifle pained and, as usual, stolid. Why did he make her feel so inferior? wondered Hydee with a swift spurt of anger. Would the time ever come when he would treat her as an equal with her exalted husband and his equally high-bred relatives?
‘I am in, Bento, thank you.’ The clipped and arrogant voice actually startled Hydee, because she had not expected her sister-in-law to take it upon herself to come in without first having Hydee’s invitation conveyed to her via the butler. Isobella stood just inside the door, her dark unfathomable eyes moving slowly from one occupant of the couch to the other before Gasper, remembering his manners, rose reluctantly, undisguised dislike imprinted on his face.
‘Good day to you, Isobella. I trust you and your family are in good health?’
‘If you mean Pedro and his father, then, yes, Gasper, they are both in excellent health.’
So formal and stilted! Hydee felt that Isobella would have better fitted into a society existing a hundred years ago.
‘Do sit down,’ she invited, rising from the couch to tug at an ornate bell rope. ‘What refreshments can I get you?’
‘None, thank you,’ answered Isobella tersely, her eyes wandering to Gasper, standing there, tall and aristocratic and almost as good-looking as Carlos, it would seem I’m interrupting your little tête-à-tête, so I won’t stay.’
‘But Bento said you wanted to see me,’ put in Hydee as Isobella turned towards the door through which she had only just entered. ‘What is it?’ Cool the voice, composed the manner, but underneath it all Hydee was trembling, for she felt herself to be vulnerable to great danger, knew a sensation of being poised on the edge of a precipice over which it would take no more than a puff of wind to make her fall. In her imagination she could see Isobella talking to Carlos, then very casually letting it drop that she had called and Gasper had been there sitting close to Hydee on the sofa. Yes, Hydee knew by the woman’s expression what was running through her mind, what plans she was making to bring about her hated sister-in-law’s downfall. Carlos’s first wife was fond of other men, had been unfaithful, so it was logical to assume that Carlos would be furious about Gasper being there, especially as he had told Hydee not to cultivate his friendship.
‘It was nothing really important—’ began Isobella, when her cousin interrupted her.
‘Nothing you can speak of before me, Isobella? Do you want me to remove myself so that you can talk to Hydee in private?’ Although he had asked the question, Hydee had the impression that the last thing he wanted was to leave them alone together.
‘No, don’t go, Gasper. As I said, it was nothing of any real importance.’ Suddenly her whole manner changed and she smiled in the most disarming way. ‘I will have a drink, after all, Hydee,’ she said, moving over to a chair and sitting down. Her eyes sought Hydee’s figure, sweeping over it to take in the exceptionally pretty dress she wore—a full-skirted dress of pale blue cotton with a tight-fitting bodice and dainty trimmings of narrow brown lace on the edge of the short sleeves and on the hemline. ‘So, Carlos is in London,’ she murmured softly. ‘I wonder if he’ll run across Arminda.’
‘Arminda?’ repeated Hydee, eyes sliding to Gasper, and narrowing as he glanced away, refusing to meet her gaze.
‘Yes.’ Isobella smiled as she leant back and crossed her shapely legs. ‘She went over a couple of days ago. She has an aunt living in Mayfair whom she visits two or three times a year.’
A chill passed over Hydee’s body, spreading into her heart to slow its beating, and for one wild moment of sheer misery she thought that if she were dying she would not mind. For with vivid perception she now understood her husband’s refusal to tell her what his business was. And then there was Gasper’s attitude, his swiftly curtailed exclamation on being told that Carlos was flying to London that day.
Hydee looked towards the door with a swift frown as Felix, a young manservant working under Bento, entered in answer to Hydee’s summons.
‘What will you have, Isobella?’ she asked, but Gasper spoke at the same time, actually telling Felix to leave the room. ‘What . . . ?’ Hydee stared blankly at him, noting the arrogance and the hard, steely expression which reminded her of Carlos in one of his less attractive moods.
‘I think you had better leave, Isobella. You’ve done what you came for, although you chose to go a long way about it, just for effect I guess, knowing you as well as I do.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Gasper!’ Isobella said something in Portuguese, and Hydee saw Gasper’s teeth clamp together and his fists close at his sides. He moved closer to where his cousin sat and stood over her, a menacing figure, his handsome face dark with fury.
‘I told you to leave,’ he gritted. You called here for the specific purpose of letting Hydee know that Arminda’s in London, because you want to hurt her! Also, when you saw my car out there you were curious as to what was going on in here! Well, now you know—and you’ll put your own interpretation on it! But I warn you, Isobella, be very careful about blackening Hydee’s name, either with her husband or with any other members of our family! I can retaliate, remember—remember?’ The words were deliberate, with an undertone of contempt. ‘Yes,’ he sneered as the blood rushed to Isobella’s face, a betrayal of her guilt over some indiscretion obviously known to her cousin, ‘I see that you do remember! So think before you let that venomous tongue of yours get you into trouble. And now,’ he added finally, ‘you can go!’
‘You’ll allow Gasper to order me out of my own brother’s home?’ The question was thrown at Hydee, who could only stand there trembling from head to foot, the icy chill of wounded pride spreading through the hollowness within her. ‘Well?’ snapped her sister-in-law, her mouth beginning to twist convulsively, the result of an all-consuming fury that seemed to pervade the entire atmosphere of the room.
‘Your brother’s home?’ from Gasper when Hydee still remained dumb. ‘I’m ordering you out of Hydee’s home. Now, go before I forget I’m a gentleman!’ He was at the door; Isobella rose with difficulty but marched from the room with head held high, the imprint of hate and arrogance in every step she took.
Although the atmosphere in the salon seemed lighter and fresher when Isobella had gone, the two who were left found difficulty in breaking the long silence which followed the slamming of the door. But at last Gasper spoke, moving to put a comforting arm around Hydee’s drooping shoulders.
‘Try to forget her, Hydee, dear. She’s just about the worst of a family I am certainly not proud to belong to.’
Eyes misted with tears were lifted to his face. Hydee saw his expression change and answered his question before he had time to ask it. ‘Yes, Gasper, I love him. It was bound to happen. I know that now.’
‘What a mess! And him caring for . . .’ He stopped, but Hydee finished for him, ‘. . . Arminda. They planned to be together didn’t they?’ No answer and she went on, ‘You knew Arminda was going to
London, didn’t you?’
‘Yes,’ he replied after a fleeting pause, ‘I did.’
‘And it was a shock when you knew Carlos was there, too.’
‘It was a surprise, certainly.’ He looked down into her face, and before Hydee had time to avoid what she realised was coming, Gasper had bent his head to kiss her full on the lips.
It was at that moment that Isobella returned, throwing open the door and saying coldly, ‘I left my handbag. . . .’ Her tall figure seemed to dominate the room as Hydee and Gasper fell apart, not with any special haste, because it was too late for that. ‘So I wasn’t mistaken when I suspected an affair,’ sneered the woman triumphantly. ‘Oh, well, as Carlos is also having an affair, I don’t really blame you—’
‘Carlos is not having an affair!’ seethed Hydee, sparks of fury igniting in her eyes. ‘You’re just trying to make mischief, Isobella, because Carlos didn’t marry the girl you wanted him to! But it’s wicked to say he’s having an affair with Arminda, because you know it’s all lies!’ Control was almost gone, but by a supreme effort Hydee recovered, and her head was lifted with pride, her shoulders squared, as she looked into the arrogantly hostile face of the woman who had hated her from the moment of their first meeting—no, even before that, before they had even met.
Slowly Isobella moved to the chair on which she had left her bag. it’s natural that you should try to convince yourself that what I’ve said is untrue,’ she sneered, ‘but if you don’t believe me, ask Gasper. He’s so clever, poking into the private affairs of every one of us so that he always has something to hold over us. Yes, ask him about Carlos and Arminda. They became lovers almost as soon as Arminda and her mother came to live in this district.’
‘Isobella,’ Gasper hissed through his teeth, ‘will you take your bag and get out of here?’
The door closed more quietly this time. Hydee turned to Gasper and said on a note of dull resignation, ‘What she said is true, isn’t it? Carlos and Arminda are lovers. They wouldn’t be together in London now if they weren’t.’
The frown that creased his forehead answered her, and something sharp and cruel slashed its way into her heart, coiling around it like a poisonous snake. Only now did she fully realise that, despite all that had occurred, all that looked black against her husband, deep within her she had clung to a ray of hope and trust. For although she had admitted that Carlos cared for Arminda, Hydee had been unable to accept that he was her lover.
‘I’m sorry, Hydee,’ said Gasper hoarsely. ‘I’d have done anything for this not to have happened. Isobella . . . she’s poison! I’ve said so before, and I say it again!’
‘I’d have found out sometime,’ said Hydee with a little choking sob. She could not help thinking about her new relationship with Carlos, a relationship which she had cherished with tenderness and the hope that, one day in the future, he would return her love.
And now there was no hope for her, no future, because she was unable to see herself living with a man who had a mistress as well as a wife. Yet what about the children? How could she leave them now that they had grown to love her?
‘Hydee. . . .’ Gasper’s voice recalled her and she looked at him through eyes shadowed by unhappiness. ‘What can I say, Hydee, dear? How can I help?’
A bitter smile twisted her mouth. ‘No one can help, Gasper,’ she answered gently. ‘My friend Ellie warned me I was making a mistake, and now I know she was right. I wouldn’t listen because I thought I knew what I wanted. It never occurred to me that I’d fall in love with my husband. . . . It all seemed so nicely cut and dried in the beginning, but fate stepped in, and now where are all my well-laid plans and resolutions?’
‘Try not to be bitter, Hydee. It will destroy you swifter than anything I know. Look at Isobella—she’s bitter over Carlos’s choice of a wife, and the bitterness is eating into her very soul.’
‘She’s still hoping that Arminda will one day become Carlos’s wife.’ A pause, but Gasper did not speak. He had pulled the bell rope and Hydee realised he felt the need of a drink—a strong one, probably. ‘Perhaps she’ll achieve her ambition—I don’t know. I can’t even think clearly.’
‘It’s understandable.’
‘Are you taking me out to lunch?’ She scarcely knew why she said that; all she did know was that a certain lethargy was slowly creeping over her, soothing her in some unbelievable way, almost numbing her mind to the pain inflicted on it within the last few minutes. Reaction would undoubtedly set in, she knew, but for the present she wanted only to get away from here, away from the Palacio and especially this particular room, which she felt she would always hate.
‘Shall we have it at my home, or would you rather go to a restaurant?’
She considered a moment. ‘At your home, I think, Gasper.’
‘You do know that Carlos won’t approve?’ Gasper watched Hydee intently as he spoke.
‘I shan’t tell him what I’ve been doing while he’s been away.’ Hydee’s words had an object tive quality which produced a frown on Gasper’s brow. She knew he was remembering that she was in love with her husband, and yet she had no incentive to guard herself against Carlos’s displeasure.
‘Very well, Hydee, my home it is.’
Chapter Eleven
A gentle breeze stirred the pine trees and chestnuts and the flag on the central tower of the Palacio as Hydee stood on the terrace listening to the children’s laughter and recalling vividly the first time she had heard it. So much had been at stake then . . . and so much had happened since that it was hard to believe it was little more than two months since she had come to Portugal and to the Quinta de Manrique.
Two short months since she had been plain Miss Merrill, and now she was the Marquesa de Alva Manrique, wife of a Portuguese nobleman with whom she had made a marriage of convenience and with whom she had been foolish enough to fall in love.
In love with a man who, she knew, loved another woman, the beautiful Arminda, whose background was as noble and illustrious as that of the man she had hoped to win for a husband.
Hydee’s thoughts returned to the children as she heard them laughing again, and then the laughter stopped and they were speaking in Portuguese. It was impossible for her to understand the conversation they were carrying on as they played and ran about, but she heard the word ‘mama’ and a smile touched her lips to give her face a glancing tenderness and enchanting beauty of which she was entirely unaware. She listened intently, hearing it again, this time from Ramos, who then said in English, ’I love her more than you do!’
‘No you don’t!’
Happiness lit her eyes despite the bitterness within her, and it was at that moment that she heard footsteps and swung around to look into the bronzed and handsome face of her husband. Her heart grew cold but her expression did not change to reveal her torment, and she heard Carlos say, ‘You look particularly charming today, Hydee. What is it?’
‘I was listening to the children,’ she answered coolly. ‘They were talking about me.’
‘Yes, I heard them. They were arguing as to which one loves you the most.’ He paused, but she had nothing to say. It was a silent moment, tense and with something unfathomable in the atmosphere.
‘It was wonderful to hear it,’ she said stiffly.
‘Very gratifying,’ he agreed. And then, ‘You’re obviously happy about the children and the way they’ve accepted you, but are you still happy about our relationship?’
Her eyes flew to his. ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she quavered, wondering if he were about to tel! her he had made a mistake in marrying her. He’d been home less than four hours, having arrived at half-past eleven that morning, and when she inquired if his business had been conducted successfully, he merely said yes, offering nothing more. But he had seemed preoccupied, and across the luncheon table Hydee had caught him looking oddly at her as if he had something on his mind which concerned her as much as himself. But he had gone to his study afterwards and she had not seen him a
gain until now.
‘I just wondered, that was all.’
‘It’s a strange thing to bring up, Carlos.’ Her voice was low and dignified; she seemed to be imbued with an added pride, as if nature were providing her with an armour against the feeling of inferiority she had known from the very first, caused mainly, she supposed, by the attitude of her husband’s family rather than by Carlos himself. ‘You must have a reason. What is it?’ Her words were a demand, and she saw his eyes darken a little as if he resented her temerity.
‘Never mind,’ he returned abruptly. ‘Forget it.’ And he strode away, going back to his study. The next time Hydee saw him was at the dinner table. It was an almost silent meal, and when it was over Carlos said he was very tired and was going to bed.
Hydee forced herself to take a stroll in the garden, choosing one of her favourite paths through delightful masses of flowers—azaleas and roses, arum lilies and camellias and many others, some blooming together, others having been planted for the purpose of having colour in the garden for most of the year. Now, in the moonlight, only the perfumes were real. Hydee inhaled over and over again, trying desper ately to divert her thoughts, seeking relief from the pressing agony of her situation.
As the moments passed, anger transcended all else, anger against the man who had brought something intimate and personal into a relationship which ought not to have been closer than that of nanny and employer. That was how it had begun and how Carlos had given her to understand it would continue. The fact that she had fallen in love with him had no bearing on the matter, because it was her own private affair, a circumstance unknown to Carlos, who had taken her for the pleasure of the moment without thought to what her feelings might be.
Her anger had abated somewhat by the time she was in her bedroom, yet as she stared at the closed door behind which her husband was probably sleeping soundly by now, she was assailed by a surge of indignation and humiliation which swiftly brought in its wake a resolve to keep him out of her room altogether. If he wanted physical satisfaction, then let him go back to Arminda!
