by Anne Hampson
She had seen little of her husband, who had gone to Lisbon on business and decided to stay there for several days. Isobella had called before he went, and the haste with which she departed had left Hydee in no doubt that her brother had admonished her for what she had done. In turn Isobella retaliated in the way Hydee had expected her to; but when approached by Carlos, Hydee had been more than ready with her answer.
‘And if we were kissing each other, what of it? At least we weren’t sleeping together!’
His teeth had snapped together and his dark eyes had smouldered like embers newly fanned. ‘Nor did Arminda and I sleep together. I’ve already told you, I didn’t stay with Arminda in the way you believe.’
Hydee let that pass, but it had remained with her, as it had when he first said it. Although she found herself believing him, accepting that he and Arminda were not lovers, at the same time she was agonisingly conscious of the admission he had made about caring deeply for the girl.
Hydee was in the nursery when Luisa and Ramos bounded in from school, full of life, eyes taking on an added glow as they saw Hydee there, busying herself with simple tasks, the one on which she was presently occupied being the tidying up of Ramos’s bookshelves.
‘Oh. . . . Is there anything to eat, Mama?’ Luisa stood before her, looking up, a dovelike expression in her eyes. ‘I like you being here when we come in,’ she said. ‘Sometimes you aren’t here, and it’s . . . it’s funny.’
‘She means strange,’ elucidated her brother knowledgeably. ‘The nursery seems like it is when we’ve been away on holiday and we come back—empty and sort of . . . cold.’ Ramos looked at Hydee and added, ‘Do you know what I mean?’
She nodded her head. ‘Yes, Ramos, I do know what you mean. I must try always to be here when you come in, mustn’t I?’
‘Papa said you have to go out sometimes.’
‘He did? When?’
‘I can’t remember. But I talked to him about it when you weren’t in one day. Caterina came soon and said she was making our tea and having it with us instead of you.’
‘You like Caterina, though?’
‘Yes. She’s nice, but we want you, Mama—always! Don’t we, Luisa?’
For answer the child hugged Hydee’s knees, rubbing her face against her skirt. ‘Mama will be here always,’ she stated. ‘She’s come to stay forever. Papa told us that when he and Mama got married.’
‘Yes, I remember.’
With a sigh Hydee put the child from her and rang for the tea to be brought up. When it was eaten, they went out to the garden and played ball on the lawn in front of the house. Hydee saw Gasper’s car bowling along the drive and after a moment left the children to play on their own.
‘Hello,’ he greeted her as he examined her face, subjecting it to an intent scrutiny. ‘How are things? I wanted to get over yesterday, but we had problems. My estate manager has taken ill and is in hospital in Lisbon. He might have to have an operation.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry.’ Hydee had met Henrique and liked him enormously. He had always treated her with the greatest respect, and never had she seen any of those covert glances which Bento so often sent in her direction. ‘Will it be a serious operation?’
‘Could be. However, let us hope for the best.’ He was standing by his car, tall and distinguished, clad in casual slacks of fine white linen and a forest-green shirt open at the neck. ‘Shall we go inside, or are you fully occupied with the children?’ His eyes slid over to them, his hand lifting. They waved back, but there was no eagerness to run to him. Hydee felt sad at the lack of affection between the children and the man they called uncle, and knew it was owing to their father’s disinterest in his cousin. Hydee found herself hoping that as they grew older, the children would come to see the good qualities in Gasper and not take the attitude of the rest of the family, joining them in lining up against him. Not that he was in any way troubled by the opinion of his family. Gasper took it all in stride, and his attitude was one of indifference not unmingled with disdain and a certain measure of pity. They were so self-centred, living in their own narrow but exalted world, concerned with no one but themselves and their circle of high-bred friends.
‘I can leave them,’ she decided. ‘They had their tea a few minutes ago.’
‘When do you expect Carlos back?’ Gasper inquired a few minutes later as they sat on a large gold velvet couch flanking the massive fireplace, drinking sherry.
I’ve no idea. We don’t communicate much these days,’ she added, and the sad inflection in her voice could not possibly escape him. He sighed exasperatedly.
‘He’s a fool if ever there was one! Arminda’s beautiful, but that’s about all she has to offer any man. She’s hard and mercenary, with a love of herself stemming from pride in her beauty and her station. She has no real concern for anyone else, and what she wants from Carlos is nothing more than the status of being a marquesa.’
‘He might be a fool, as you say, Gasper, but he happens to love her. And love is the most important thing. He can’t help himself any more than I can help myself.’
‘You still love him, in spite of everything?’
‘I shall love him until I die,’ she whispered. ‘What I feel for him is something very different from what I felt for Noel.’ She had confided in Gasper about Noel right at the beginning; he had said she was better without him, and she now admitted that Gasper had been right.
He stayed for dinner, and although profoundly aware of Bento’s disapproval, Hydee ignored the man except when it was necessary to give him an order.
‘I’d have that fellow out of here if I were Carlos!’ snapped Gasper when Bento had spoken to him in Portuguese and been admonished for it. ‘He’s insolent!’
‘I’m not worried about Bento,’ Hydee assured him in a soothing tone. ‘I shan’t be here much longer. I’ve told Carlos I shall definitely be leaving immediately after Christmas, so if he doesn’t replace me as nanny for Luisa and Ramos then, Caterina will have to look after them.’
‘I hope we shan’t lose touch?’
‘There’s no reason why we should,’ she said, managing to produce a smile. She was watching Felix drawing the cork from a bottle of wine with an expertise which revealed regular practice. ‘Perhaps you will take a holiday in England and we can meet.’
‘Undoubtedly I shall meet you in England,’ he declared. And then, lifting his glass after it had been filled, ‘Here’s to Christmas, and we’ll not think beyond that for the present.’
Carlos arrived home the following day. Hydee happened to be on the balcony of her bedroom as he slid from his car and glanced up, catching sight of her even though she instinctively drew back, hoping the stone balustrade would hide her from his view.
Within five minutes he was in her bedroom, stepping through the window onto the balcony. She could only stare in surprise, twisting her neck in order to look at him. His eyes studied her intently for a moment before he spoke.
‘Hydee, I’m going to ask you to stay here indefinitely.’ Moving to one side, he reached for the vacant chair, turned it to face her, and then sat down. ‘I’ve been thinking seriously about our situation. I never meant it to end like this—’
‘You must surely have known it would end like this if you had no intention of giving Arminda up,’ she cut in sharply. ‘Besides, do you suppose I ever imagined it would be like this?’ The pain of loving him and yet quarrelling this way was that of a dagger thrusting deep into her heart, but she felt she must resist any persuasion he might attempt to make. Getting away was becoming an obsession which made Christmas seem farther away than ever, causing the days to pass slowly, the nights in fitful tossing and turning. She spent the long hours counting the days off in the mental calendar of her mind.
‘If you go back, you have no one, Hydee,’ he persisted patiently. ‘I’ll give you money, of course—’
‘I don’t want your money!’ she flashed at him, insulted by the offer. ‘As for my having no one—why should you care
? We’ll get a divorce, and that will be the end of it.’
‘Here in my country we don’t speak so lightly of divorce as you are doing,’ he chided.
‘It’s the only answer when two people don’t get along. Doreen had a divorce, and she’s a lot happier for it.’
Carlos frowned impatiently and made no comment; it would have been irrelevant anyway, Hydee now admitted as she waited for her husband to speak again.
‘You’d have come as a nanny, remember?’ She merely nodded, too emotionally upset to answer because she was thinking of her optimism when, after the first shock of being asked to be a mother and not a nanny, she had looked forward to a happy future. How little she knew at that time! How deeply she regretted not having taken her friend’s advice. ‘Well,’ Carlos continued, ‘I am asking you to be a nanny, to stay with the children at least until they no longer need you.’
Instinctively she shook her head, recalling her initial conviction that he would not try to keep her. ‘I can’t stay indefinitely. I’ll stay until Christmas is over, and then I’m leaving you, Carlos.’ Her tone was sad because she could not altogether hide her feelings, suppress her emotions, nor even control her expression. Carlos stared, a grimness playing about his mouth, his eyes dark, unfathomable. That he was emotionally affected was evident, and Hydee felt the stinging barb of jealousy pierce her heart because his thoughts must be with Arminda.
‘Christmas isn’t very far away,’ Carlos reminded her. ‘It won’t be long.’
‘Long enough for you to find a replacement for me.’
‘One does not find a replacement for one’s wife.’ Soft the tone now, and almost gentle, but the change only served to anger her.
‘Don’t!’ she flashed. ‘Keep your gentle tone for the woman you love.’
He seemed unable to find anything to say, and in the uneasy silence Hydee rose from her chair and stood with her palms resting on the heavy stone railing, her gaze on the crystal spray of the fountain, glistening like a cascade of pure white diamonds in the light of a moon that was almost full. The air around her trembled; even at this time of year perfumes floated on the breeze. The grounds were chequered with shapes and patterns and colours—jade and emerald, smoke-grey and dun where shadows veiled the moonglow. Misty clouds pressed down on the valley sides, presaging a cool, dewy aspect when the light of a new day crept into the valley.
Hydee shivered and turned, saying quietly, ‘I’m going in, Carlos. It’s late.’
He did not move, and she left him sitting there, hoping he would not stay long, although he need not disturb her, since he could go into his own room via the balcony. To her surprise, he was in her room less than two minutes after she entered it herself. Frowning, she snapped, ‘What do you want, Carlos?’
No answer, and suddenly his expression changed and he shortened the distance between them. Hydee stepped back, the colour receding from her face.
‘Don’t speak to me like that, Hydee,’ he almost snarled. ‘You’re my wife!’
‘In name only!’
‘You could be expecting my child.’
‘Your child?’ He had mentioned it before, but now the situation had changed. ‘Is that what you want?’ She shook her head instantly, denying her own question. ‘No, you’d never want my child, but it would keep me here, or so you believe. Well, let me disillusion you. I’d not stay even if I were having a child!’ Nor would she let him know, she thought, praying with everything in her heart that she had escaped an eventuality such as that.
He moved again, and she took another step back, bringing her legs into contact with the huge four-poster bed. ‘Go away,’ she ordered, eyes flashing. ‘I told you I didn’t want you in my room again!’ A mistake—perhaps not in the actual meaning of her words but in the way they were phrased, and also in the way they were delivered. Carlos’s eyes smouldered, narrowing to dark, menacing slits.
‘You’re my wife!’ he gritted. ‘If I want to come to your room, then I shall come anytime I like.’
Hydee’s disbelieving eyes were drawn to the slender brown hands coming up from his sides. She needed no extraordinary perception to guess what he had in mind. And yet part of her brain refused to accept the obvious, because for him to take her now would not only mean a lowering of his pride but also increase the contempt she already felt for him.
‘I’m your wife in name only,’ she repeated. ‘I’ve just reminded you of it.’ White to the lips now, she watched with fascinated eyes as his hands came forwards. But despite her position, which was one of near-imprisonment, for he was threateningly close, Hydee was galvanised into action, and even as his hands came out to grasp her arms, she pivoted on her heels, almost knocking him off balance by the urgency and violence of her manoeuvre. She sped to the door, but even as she reached it she felt his steely fingers close round her wrist and she came up against his muscular frame with an impact that left her panting and dazed. She stood staring up at him, tall and overpowering, masterfully arrogant, his body dominatingly flexed. A nobleman whose innate superiority was sustained even though his basic male instincts were swiftly reverting to the primitive.
‘Let go of me!’ she cried, twisting her wrist in a furious endeavour to free herself and gaining nothing but bruises. Tears rushed to her eyes, stiffening her lashes, but Carlos was in no mood for pity, or even for noticing her distress. All that penetrated his consciousness were her anger and rejection of him. Ruthlessly he took both her arms, brought her against his granite-hard body and possessed her lips, covering them moistly in a fierce and sensuous kiss that temporarily robbed her of breath. She placed her palms against the iron hardness of his chest, employing her puny strength as she attempted to increase the tiny space she had managed to put between his body and her own.
He soon had her two small hands in his grasp, imprisoned behind her back, while his other hand slid with arrogant possessiveness down the length of her spine to bring her body to his, melding her pliancy against his hardness with the deliberate intention of forcing her to accept that there was no escape from him, that total compliance was his demand and his intention.
She stopped struggling and resigned herself to his mastery, to the determined caress of his hand kneading her quivering flesh as it gradually ignited her desire for him, crushing the last vestige of resistance. Desire licked at her senses, and when she lifted her eyes to the arrogant mask of his, she swayed in surrender, offering her glowing lips, then parting them obediently in response to the fierce pressure inflicted on them. She was aware that his hand was at her back, felt the tautness of her dress slacken as the zip was released.
The dress soon lay at her feet, and she stared down at it, lips tingling with the pleasure-pain of his kisses, cheeks coloured by embarrassment. Suddenly there was only her love, and she lifted her head to examine his chiselled male features in a sort of desperate search for any small sign that it was not solely lust that was driving him to assert his rights. But all she encountered in those dark foreign eyes was desire; they were smouldering fuses ready to ignite, and even as she stared she saw them blaze, heard a guttural sound in the depths of his throat, and before she knew it, she was being crushed to his body again, her slender frame hurt by his strength, her breasts hard against his chest.
He bent his head, taking her lips fiercely, savagely, before, in staggering contrast, his mouth began to make a gentle exploration of her face, caressing her cheeks, her temples, and down again to the tender curve of her throat, his eyes dark with a profound tenderness. His hands, too, were tender and gentle, quickening her own need to pulsating life so that he did not really need to curl his long lean fingers round her soft flesh in order to arch her body against his.
Minutes later he was with her on the bed, his restless hands gliding over her warm flesh, caressing her sensitive places, while his lips hovered against her breasts, light and teasing, fanning her desire to the fierce flame of urgent, all-consuming need.
‘Carlos . . . love me,’ she whispered, but almost silent
ly. He only saw her lips move, felt the current of yearning that swept through her lovely naked body, lying there beside him, in response to the questing freedom of his hands.
‘Hydee. . . .’ the word was uttered in a throaty bass tone, his lips against her cheek. The next moment their bodies were fused, the battering urgency of their mutual need swiftly transporting them to rapturous heights where all their earthly problems dissolved to insignificance.
Chapter Fifteen
On the day before the expected arrival of the honeymoon couple, Hydee sought her husband out in his study to ask if he would be willing to pretend that everything was all right between them.
‘It would spoil their honeymoon if Ellie thought I was unhappy,’ Hydee added unnecessarily. ‘If . . . if you won’t find it too difficult . . .’ She let her voice trail off as her mind drifted away from the present to that memorable night when he had come to her in anger and in the end made love to her so gently. Although he had not come to her since, his whole manner had undergone a change from that night onwards. He was more friendly and communicative, seeming to derive pleasure from her company; he smiled more often, took a keen interest in what she wore and how she looked generally, making remarks which, though appearing to be guarded, could only be described as flattering. He was more tolerant regarding her friendship with Gasper, although on a couple of occasions when she had come in very late she had witnessed something akin to anger in her husband’s attitude. On both occasions he had waited up for her, admonishing her for staying out so late. But Hydee had the impression that he was more pained than angry, and she supposed it was his pride that was being stung.
‘I assure you I shall not find it difficult to act as if I am a happily married man.’ Carlos’s foreign voice was low, tinged with an inflection which was impossible to define.
Hydee coloured at his words and forced a thin smile to her lips. ‘There isn’t any need for that, Carlos. Ellie knows the details regarding our marriage.’
‘She does?’
