Her thoughts turned to Salvador. She could see that, of the two men, he was the one to blame for the fight. He had struck the first blow, and there seemed no solid argument in his defence. Why should a man, considered by everyone to be reasonable and balanced, act like a moody adolescent whenever a situation involved her? And start a violent brawl simply because he’d found her in the arms of another? That he may indeed love her seemed the only explanation. Alexandra’s heart lurched keenly in her chest with a bittersweet pain. But if that were true, why did he continue to ignore her and brazenly pursue his liaison with Marujita under this very roof? Why did he flirt with Doña Isabel and Mercedes at every opportunity? Either he didn’t want to care for her, or he didn’t care for her at all. She decided that it must be the latter: Salvador didn’t love her, he simply took delight in playing a pointless game, cruel sometimes, and unworthy of the gentleman he claimed to be. She had heard of men like that.
Exhausted, she finally closed her eyes and gave in to sleep. It had been a long day, and one that had changed things between herself and Salvador irrevocably.
* * *
Alexandra stirred in her sleep as sunbeams filtered through the heavy silk curtains, summoning her to yet another glorious day. Only half awake, she was vaguely aware of doors banging and general commotion on the floor below. A brightly coloured butterfly flew in and fluttered round for a few seconds before settling on the linen sheet next to her. Alexandra raised herself on one elbow and watched it through drowsy eyes, admiring the velvety texture of its delicate wings. She was tempted to stroke it with her fingertips and moved a hesitant hand towards the quivering creature but it was too quick for her. Abruptly taking off, it beat round the room in wide, alarmed circles as if stricken by a sudden panic at being prisoner of those white walls. Still numb and drowsy, Alexandra’s gaze followed it for a moment and, as she remembered flashes of the previous evening, she too experienced a desperate need to feel less closed in. She climbed out of bed and drew the curtains back. The sun shone through, flooding the room with a brilliant light. A fresh breeze wafted into the room. The butterfly drifted gracefully towards the open window and disappeared into the clear morning air.
Alexandra returned to bed and snuggled into the warmth of her bedclothes. She cast a quick glance at the clock on the bedside table: it wasn’t yet eight. The noise of which she’d been aware earlier had stopped. She wasn’t sure how long she lay there, her thoughts floating in that state between sleep and wakefulness, when the mind confuses wonderland with reality and gives our fantasies a semblance of truth, yet it seemed only a few minutes later that somewhere a door banged and the rattling sound of a horse and carriage drifted up to her. In her drowsy state, she couldn’t tell whether it was heading for the coach house or leaving El Pavón.
‘Salvador,’ she whispered. But what would he be doing at this early hour? Perhaps it wasn’t Salvador but Fernando Lopez off on estate business. She recalled her cousin’s lean profile and the bitter twist of his mouth the night before. What had her grandmother said as she wished her goodnight? Something to do with the heart of an unhappy man … Well, Salvador’s fate was in his own hands. Anyway, what did it matter now? It seemed she was powerless with regard to him and, that being the case, she should simply look after herself. In daylight, everything became simple and ordinary again.
The sound of a light swish of skirts forced her eyes open. Agustina was standing there with a tray in her hands. Alexandra blinked, surprised. She wasn’t accustomed to being served breakfast in her room.
‘The house is all topsy-turvy this morning,’ said the duenna in answer to Alexandra’s raised eyebrows. ‘I thought you might prefer to have breakfast in your room, instead of getting yourself involved in the uproar.’
‘What’s the matter?’ enquired Alexandra, alarmed by the housekeeper’s expression.
‘She’s finally flown the nest, gone. She couldn’t put up with the lie any more,’ Agustina announced gravely. Then, delighting in pushing the suspense to the limit, she added dramatically, ‘What love is to the heart, so freedom is to the soul. You can’t keep it prisoner, even in a golden cage.’
Alexandra raised herself up on the pillows. There was no doubt that the residents of El Pavón delighted in speaking in riddles, and pompous ones at that. Her whole conversation with her grandmother the night before had been strewn with strange sayings about fire, the devil, and monks being unable to get a donkey to bray. Now, the old servant was mumbling yet another proverb. It was far too early in the morning for such nonsense.
‘For heaven’s sake, Agustina,’ she said brusquely, rubbing her eyes. ‘Please get to the point. I don’t understand a word of what you’re saying.’
‘I am talking about Doña Esmeralda,’ Agustina explained, a little huffily.
‘Well …?’ prompted Alexandra who, by now, was beginning to guess what would follow.
Agustina set the tray down in front of her. ‘She’s eloped with the man she loves. Your grandmother is beside herself. In all my years in service at this house, I’ve never seen her so distraught. Even when your father married your poor mother she didn’t take it this badly. She’s made herself ill and Don Salvador had to call the doctor to prescribe a sedative. Now he’s gone to the ranch in the hope of finding the lovers there.’ Agustina shook her head. ‘Going off with the hired help, even if he’s from an honest family, is not what well bred señoritas do.’
Alexandra pushed the tray away sharply and leapt out of bed. ‘Poor Abuela, I was the one to upset her last night and now this. I’d better go to her.’
Agustina watched her inscrutably for a moment and then left the room. Alexandra washed and dressed hastily, leaving her breakfast untouched. She was pleased for her cousin and almost envied her. How must it feel to have a man show such devotion that he would flout convention and risk a life of uncertainty for the sake of love? Perhaps it was not so foolish to be romantic after all. Esmeralda was finally free to follow her heart, free of El Pavón. Another disappointment for her grandmother.
Alexandra slipped into her shoes and hastened along the corridor. She was determined to do her best to reassure the Duquesa. Perhaps she could at least try to convince her to forgive Esmeralda’s decision, even if she couldn’t find it in her heart to accept such apparently indiscreet behaviour right now. She ran down the great marble staircase but before she could reach her grandmother’s apartments, she found her way blocked by the horsy figure of Doña Eugenia.
‘Good morning, my dear. Where are you going in such a hurry?’ Her stepmother, eyes narrowed, looked like a poisonous salamander guarding its eggs. ‘If it’s to see Doña María Dolores,’ she added, without waiting for Alexandra’s reply, ‘I’m afraid you’re out of luck. The doctor has given strict instructions she mustn’t be disturbed under any circumstances. Anyhow, I would have thought that after your little jaunt yesterday, you’d have the good sense, if not the decency, to keep out of sight for a while.’
‘I was coming to—’
‘The reason your grandmother has taken Esmeralda’s elopement so hard,’ Doña Eugenia cut in sharply, ‘is because she was already deeply distressed by your scandalous behaviour yesterday. She knows now, as I’ve always done, that you could never fit in here. And I’m quite certain she wouldn’t welcome a visit from you.’
‘Let me be the judge of that,’ retorted Alexandra, trying her best not to get upset.
‘You’ve done enough harm already, and I won’t let you make matters worse …’ Doña Eugenia leaned in and lowered her voice. ‘Do you think I’m not aware of the plans that are going on in your scheming head? That I don’t see through your manipulation of your grandmother? The saying “Como la madre como hija, like mother, like daughter” has never been so true.’ Her eyes were ice. ‘Get out! Take your intrigues and leave before your true personality becomes clear to everyone and your disloyalty damages this family for good.’
There was something in Doña Eugenia’s calm and cold delivery that m
ade her venomous words more hurtful than had they been shouted furiously. Alexandra clenched her fists. ‘I don’t need to explain myself to anyone, least of all you,’ she managed to say in a trembling voice. ‘You vile, hateful woman!’
With as much dignity as she could muster, Alexandra turned and stalked off down the corridor, almost colliding with Salvador, who was approaching in the opposite direction. He made to grab her by the arm, and threw her a questioning look, but Alexandra rushed past him and out of the house, her face burning, trying to hold back the tears of frustration.
Still running, she crossed the lawn and dived into the shadowy avenue of willows that bordered the irrigation canal. She stopped at last, out of breath, her cheeks crimson. Humiliation in the face of the completely unfounded but damning insinuations of her stepmother suddenly gave way to hatred. She was surprised by the violence of her resentment, which raged like an angry beast within her breast.
Alexandra sat down on the fallen trunk of an ancient willow on the bank of the canal, brushing aside a few wisps of hair that had slipped across her face. The serenity of the spot had something mystical about it, almost bewitching, and had a calming effect on her. Here, silence was king; there was not a sound, just the hush of the shadows. Alexandra picked up a few pebbles and tossed them into the canal, each one making multi-coloured ripples, like fleeting rainbows in the stagnant waters.
A mockingbird flew out of the undergrowth with a shrill screech, disturbing the peace. The beat of its wings startled her. A breeze brushed her cheek lightly and further rippled the surface of the water. With a faint sigh it swept through the weeping willows as though to share a secret with her, its confused whisper like the rustling of silk.
Alexandra passed a hand over her throbbing forehead. It felt as if a steel vice were squeezing her temples. A strange sadness swept over her. The intense loathing she had experienced towards Doña Eugenia a moment before gradually gave way to a feeling of total helplessness and desolation.
When she had first arrived at El Pavón, she had hoped to find in its residents the welcoming, caring and loving family that she had lacked in childhood and which her heart, hungry for affection, had yearned for all those past years. Instead, most of the family had been condescending or downright spiteful towards her; some had even been openly hostile. Her own father had often treated her as a stranger. His reaction to her distress the previous day seemed proof enough that his love for her was only skin deep, their relationship not the one she had hoped for. Only Ramón had offered his friendship spontaneously.
Doña María Dolores, true enough, had welcomed her into her home as a privileged member of the family. She had been attentive and interested in her granddaughter, had given without apparently expecting anything in return. However, now Alexandra could not avoid noting with cynicism the old woman’s ulterior motives: the Duquesa, disillusioned with other members of her family, had turned to Alexandra in the hope that she would take on the tiller of the sinking ship. Her grandmother had spent the best part of her youth caring for the family and El Pavón. If no one were able to take over, then all the years of fighting, all the sacrifices, would have been for nothing. What a waste that must seem. Salvador was quite able to take on the job but he needed someone to shoulder the responsibility with him.
At that moment, Alexandra could see through her grandmother’s eyes and all the things she was trying to achieve. Her granddaughter had been her hope and genuine comfort. Was that such a terrible thing?
I’ve disappointed her, too, she thought bitterly. I’m no better than the others.
Alexandra must have been sitting there for the good part of an hour when she caught sight of Salvador coming along the path. His leg couldn’t have pained him much since he was now walking quite briskly. His head was bent, but as he reached the canal, he raised his gaze, as if by instinct. Had he noticed her? Alexandra’s heart missed a beat as his eyes locked on to hers and he made his way towards her. Her first impulse was to run away — anywhere — to escape him. Yet she remained rooted to the spot as if mesmerized by some invisible spell. Her heart was racing so hard that she was afraid he would hear its uncontrollable beat.
‘Good morning …’ His voice was unexpectedly friendly as he approached. ‘I didn’t know you liked this spot.’
Alexandra attempted a smile. ‘I came here by chance,’ she replied softly, her senses trained to be wary at his every change of demeanour. They remained silent a while. He stood beside her, and once again she inwardly cursed as her eyes couldn’t help but wander surreptitiously over his lean, sharply defined profile, his high forehead, and determined jaw. She noticed, with a slight jolt, the livid gash across his cheek. In daylight, the wound appeared much worse than the previous evening and she felt a pang of remorse.
Salvador bent down and picked up a pebble. Absentmindedly he turned it over in his hand before tossing it casually into the water. He remained motionless for a time, staring at an invisible point beyond the undergrowth, deep in thought — stern, haughty and aloof. Then he lit a cigarette. His hand trembled imperceptibly as he drew deeply on it and contemplated the glowing tip.
‘I think I owe you an apology for the way I behaved yesterday,’ he said roughly, his eyes narrowing a little. ‘I was angry. I acted on impulse and mishandled the situation,’ he went on, in a voice barely discernible, as if talking to himself. Then, raising his tone slightly, he added: ‘Can you forgive me?’
Turning to her now, she saw that the hard expression that had distorted his features the night before had softened. Salvador seemed strained and tired as he searched Alexandra’s face. His eyes had lost their metallic coldness, and the tenderness in them set her heart beating faster.
Though used to his sudden changes in behaviour, she was not accustomed to such humility on the part of her cousin and it unsettled her. Alexandra shrugged her shoulders, feigning indifference in her confusion. ‘What does it matter anyway?’ she said, trailing her fingertip along the bark of the willow trunk next to her.
She noticed the dark rings deepening under his eyes. His expression looked nothing if not wretched. He shook his head and sighed, almost defeated: ‘Alexandra, why do you so stubbornly refuse to understand me?’
‘I don’t refuse to understand you,’ she scoffed. ‘I just find it impossible to do so!’
Salvador gave a short, bitter laugh. ‘Will you believe me when I tell you that I act always in your best interests?’
She stood up and tossed her head defiantly.‘Not really.Why should I?’ she asked harshly, looking him in the eye before turning away.
Ignoring her scornful words, he went on: ‘Don’t you trust me?’
Alexandra hesitated and gazed round at him. He had moved away now, averting his gaze, and seemed to have once more withdrawn into his shell. Her anger was bubbling up again, but feeling him slipping away, she instinctively wanted to pull him back to her: this time there was something different about him.
‘I don’t know,’ she admitted in earnest, hugging herself. ‘I don’t know what to believe when it comes to you, Salvador.’
A long silence followed. ‘You’re right,’ he murmured at last, sadly. ‘Yet if you’d listened to me, if you’d left when I’d asked you to the first time, all this wouldn’t have happened. Do you remember that first night on the terrace, Alexandra?’
How could she forget? Memories of that faraway evening at the masked ball came tumbling back with a freshness and clarity that made her limbs weak, consuming her entirely as though all strength had drained from her. She could actually feel his burning lips on hers with a vividness that made her almost dizzy. Was he playing with her again, pushing her to the limits in the way only he knew how? No one but this man could make her feel such anger, desire and despair all at once.
Suddenly, innumerable sensations were assailing her, confusing her, so it was impossible to distinguish between them. Was it tiredness, passion, lust, anxiety, sadness or shame? Alexandra’s throat constricted and her eyes stung. Clo
sing them tightly, she tried to suppress the hot tears that threatened to spill over.
All at once Salvador was next to her, pressing her fervently against him. Through the thin linen of his shirt she could feel the wild thundering of his heart, that secret heart that hid its own truths and rejected her. He looked at her and his eyes seemed to hold myriad emotions, fighting one another for supremacy. Whatever iron control he usually exerted was palpably crumbling, as she too lost her resolve, falling into the hunger of his gaze.
‘Alexandra,’ his voice was husky as he whispered her name, searching urgently for her lips. His mouth closed over hers, his kiss fierce and so demanding it took her breath away. Her lips parted to the commanding thrust of his tongue, and she responded eagerly to the familiar taste of him, raising her arms around his neck, pressing her body sensually against his hard, masculine arousal, urging him not to stop. She moaned softly with pleasure, welcoming the fiery response to his touch, deep between her thighs.
She knew now, without doubt, that he wanted her as badly as she wanted him. It would have been so easy to let him make love to her there and then, under the willow trees, to give in to this storm of feelings that threatened to carry them both away to the point of no return. At that moment Alexandra no longer cared about what was right or wrong; she only knew that this all-consuming flame of passion was tearing them both apart.
Yet already Salvador was regaining control. He broke off from the kiss, his chest rising and falling fast, and brushed the top of her head with his lips. After breathing in the fresh, clean fragrance of her hair, he tore himself away, as if the very scent of her threatened to send his senses off on a new wild escapade. Gently, but resolutely, he stepped back a few paces, leaving her breathless and still trembling with insatiate desire.
He saw the look in her eye. ‘No,’ he said in a soft voice, controlled now, and devoid of emotion. ‘This is wrong and unfair, querida. I mustn’t deceive myself or you. I can’t make promises, I can offer you nothing at the moment. It was callous and quite inexcusable of me to take advantage of you again. Please forgive me. You are—’
Indiscretion Page 34
