The Arrogant Duke

by Anne Mather

  Juliet subsided into the chair again, and linked her hands in her lap, the demure attitude belying the strength of her convictions.

  'So, senhorita,' he began, 'I will tell you about Teresa. As you know she is sixteen years of age, and reasonably intelligent. Prior to the accident she attended an academy in Lisbon, my brother lived near there, you understand, but on her parents' death, and her own subsequent disability, she was brought here - by me.' He drew on his cheroot. 'Teresa was not my brother's child, but the child of his wife, and her first husband.'

  'Yes, Teresa told me,' replied Juliet, and he frowned.

  'I see. She must have been singularly confiding this afternoon. Still - as I have said, after the accident, I brought her here. There was no one else. Her mother's family - parents, at least, were dead, she had no brothers or sisters. The child was quite alone. Naturally J as she had taken my brother's name, she was as much his child as any blood relation could be.'

  'I see.'

  'The accident - it was tragic. The usual motorway pile-up, with Teresa trapped in the wreckage for hours. Hours when she was conscious, and suffered much j mental torture.' He sighed. 'The hospital could find little wrong with her; there is no injury to her legs, no spinal damage, she simply refuses to walk! It is as simple - or maybe, as difficult — as that!' He leant forward. 'And that is why I do not wish her to become emotionally disturbed, in any direction! She already is disturbed, and only time, and affection, and patience can cure her. She has a nurse, Miss Madison is a very capable woman. But she is old, in her fifties, and consequently can provide little companionship to a girl of Teresa's age.'

  Juliet sighed. 'Then why create so much difficulty about employing a companion for her?' she exclaimed.

  The Duque frowned. 'You are a very curious young woman, Miss Summers. I do not know that I care for your attitude!'

  Juliet's colour deepened. 'Why? Don't you like plain speaking?'

  'Plain speaking? What is this? The right to be impertinent if one so desires?'

  'No. It's just being truthful, and calling black black.'

  'Hmm! Well, I will reserve judgment, senhorita.'

  'And are you going to tell me why you refused to employ me?' Juliet determined to have it all out with him.

  He shrugged. 'Estelle did it all, senhorita. As she did before. Only then the girl was an American, Laura Weston. It was a disaster. Teresa disliked her, and there were continual bouts of disharmony in the household. In addition - oh, well, that at least is of no interest to you. So, senhorita, what do you think now?'

  Juliet sighed. 'Of course I should like the job,' she j admitted. Teresa presents a challenge. I never could j resist a challenge.'

  He smiled, this time without mockery. 'You have courage, pequena.'

  Juliet wished he had said nothing. There was that awful sensation in her stomach again. She got hastily to her feet.

  'Do you want me to tell Teresa?' she asked.

  'A moment,' he answered, rising also. 'Tell me, your remark at the commencement of our discussion - what exactly did you mean?'

  'What remark?' Juliet pretended not to understand ; him.

  The Duque's frown returned. 'You know exactly j which remark,' he averred coldly. 'You said that Teresa imagined herself in love with me.

  'I said she was in love with you,' replied Juliet quietly, bending her head. 'At sixteen, a girl like Teresa is very intense.'

  'And you really believe there is some truth in this?'

  'Of course.' Juliet looked at him. 'It's simple really, j Child psychology, if you like. You represent everything to her. You rescued her from a life of loneliness and possible poverty, and brought her to an island rich in beauty and wealth.. How else could she regard you but as a kind of knight in shining armour! In addition, you apparently spend much time with her, entertaining her, charming her!' Juliet shrugged. 'She is an impressionable creature, senhor. And without friends, which is very important.'

  He chewed his cheroot savagely. 'And what would you have me do, senhorita? Ignore her?'

  'No. That would be unnecessarily cruel. If I stay, I should like your permission to cultivate friends for Teresa among children of her own age group. Maybe then she will realize how - well, futile, are her hopes.'

  The Duque nodded thoughtfully. 'Yes, I suppose you are right again.' He gave a short exclamation in his own language. 'It seems I may yet have reason to be grateful to you, senhorita.'

  Juliet walked to the door, and then looked back. 'And Teresa? Shall I tell her?'

  The Duque hesitated, and then shook his head. 'No, I suppose not. This is something I must do. I suggest you wait until the morning before you present yourself again to my niece. She may not appreciate your company today.'

  Juliet thought this was a vast understatement. Teresa would very likely hate her as she already hated Estelle Vinceiro. Juliet felt a faint feeling of sympathy towards the Duque's cousin-in-law. Obviously, she was as aware of Teresa's affections as Juliet was.

  The Duque watched her open the door, and then said: 'I am dining out this evening, but I will probably see you tomorrow to ascertain your progress. Boa tarde, senhorita!

  Juliet said good afternoon, went along the corridor to the main hall, and up the stairs to her room. Once there, she collapsed weakly on the bed, unable for a moment to grasp everything that had happened during the last half hour or so. It was incredible that she had had the courage to speak so fearlessly to the Duque, and yet it had worked, and she had won her small victory.

  She slid off the bed and walked to the window, and out on to the balcony. Here the ground shelved away below her to low dunes and then to the beach. The smooth, silky waters of the Caribbean lapped on sand that was warm and inviting. She leaned on the balcony rail, revelling in the warmth of the sun, inhaling the fragrance of the climbing plants that grew in such abundance. A palm was within reach of her fingers, with broad leaves looking as though they had been newly polished. Was it only this morning that she had arrived? It seemed much longer than that. And despite the uncertainty of all that had happened, she knew she wanted to stay.

  CHAPTER THREE

  SHE slept soundly and awoke next morning to the shrill sounds of the sea birds crying, and the gentle roar of the waves on the grey rocks. Sliding out of bed, she went first to the window, throwing wide the shutters, and stepping out on to the balcony. Although it was early, the air was warm, and taking a deep breath she smoothed her hair behind her ears, allowing the atmosphere to envelop her in its warmth and fragrance. She could hear the sounds of activity emanating from the servants' quarters, and the melodious singing voice of one of the gardeners working in the formal gardens which flanked the front entrance. Her room was on that side of the building that faced the sea, but away to the left among the density of trees that backed the quinta, she could see outbuildings which might be garages or stables. Obviously the Duque rode; yesterday, at the time of her first encounter with him, he had been wearing riding clothes, and she remembered the whip very well that he had held in his slim brown hand.

  Thrusting thoughts of the Duque away, she tried to estimate the distance out to the bows of a sleek, white yacht, that lay at anchor in the bay. This part of the island seemed sparsely populated, although probably there were villages which did not encroach too closely on the private environs of the quinta. She wondered whether there were many other European families on the island, and if so, how they amused themselves. Of course, with the Duque's resources, he could visit Barbados or St. Vincent or Martinique, for entertainment. She sighed. Of course, with all the outdoor facilities available, like riding, skin-diving, water-skiing and sailing, together with the more prosaic pastimes like tennis, golf or fishing, there was plenty to occupy the time. Hadn't her father always maintained that the West Indies provided the best of both worlds, a temperate, yet a sunny and dry climate?

  Turning back into the room, she entered the bathroom, and was just drying herself after a shower, when there was a knock at the outer door.
Calling 'Come in,' she peeped round the bathroom door in time to see a young maid leaving a tray on her bedside table.

  'Oh, thank you,' said Juliet, smiling, tucking a towel securely round her, and coming into the bedroom. 'Where does Miss - I mean, Senhorita Teresa usually have her breakfast?'

  The maid frowned. 'Senhorita Teresa eat on — er — patio,' she said, with difficulty, and then smiled at her achievement. 'Sim?'

  'Thank you,' Juliet nodded, and poured herself a glass of fresh fruit juice from the jug on the tray. It was a mixture of orange and lemon and lime, and was delicious. The maid left her, and Juliet dressed in a short red pleated skirt, and a white blouse, with three-quar- ter-length sleeves, and a demure cuffed neck. She spent several minutes securing her hair, deciding it was easier to braid it first, before attempting to put it up. Then, after two cups of coffee from the coffee jug which was also on the tray, she collected the tray and left her room.

  Although the quinta was large, she had no difficulty in finding her way to the main hall, for a glance out of the windows confirmed her whereabouts. When she had brought Juliet's dinner to her room the previous evening, Consuelo had given her a brief outline of the layout of the building, and now Juliet knew that Teresa had her rooms in that side of the building furthest from the sea because she did not like the sound of the waves. Juliet was obviously not to be encouraged to leave her room, she had thought a little dryly, when Consuelo arrived with the tray, but the housekeeper had explained that as the Duque was out, and Teresa was dining in her room with Senhorita Madison, her nurse, it would have been a lonely meal downstairs in the dining room. Even so, Juliet had taken the opportunity after dinner, of taking a walk in the gardens, enjoying the scents and sounds of the night, her senses stirred by the sound of a calypso band playing not too far distant. She thought that perhaps a party was going on in one of the villas further round the coast, and she had felt a faint pang of envy.

  But this morning, all that was forgotten, and she was even beginning to wonder, with something less than fear, what her father had done about her letter. No doubt he would be furious, and she hoped when he saw Rosemary he would not treat her to one of his furious rampages. Not that Rosemary wasn't more than capable of dealing with him; she was a very sensible and determined young woman.

  Juliet now found her way to the kitchens, and, left the tray with the smiling maid, who confirmed that Senhorita Teresa was already on the patio. When Juliet emerged from the building, she found Teresa had started her breakfast, a simple meal of fruit and rolls accompanied by fruit juice, and did not even look up when Juliet came to join her at the table.

  'Good morning, Teresa,' said Juliet lightly. 'Did you sleep well?'

  Teresa did not answer, and Juliet poured herself a cup of coffee, and told the maid who had appeared that she too would have fruit and rolls. When the maid had gone, she sipped her coffee thoughtfully, viewing the young girl over the rim of her cup, wondering what thoughts were at present torturing Teresa's mind. Teresa was studiously avoiding looking at her, concentrating on her meal with intense single- mindedness.

  Juliet accepted the rolls the maid brought her, buttered one and began to pare a peach slowly. She looked across at Teresa's bent head, and said: 'Are you going to maintain this silence indefinitely? Or will you tell me what is annoying you and be done with it?'

  Teresa gave her a scornful glance, but still refused to speak. Juliet's appetite deteriorated. This was hopeless! If the Duque appeared now and saw Teresa's reaction he would imagine the worst.

  'For Jieaven's sake, I thought you pretended to be adult!' she exclaimed, realizing that only by antagonizing Teresa would she produce any reaction at all.

  Teresa's glass clattered as it hit the glass surface of the table. 'Don't try to infuriate me!' she snapped coldly. 'Your presence here can produce nothing but dislike between us! I told you I didn't want you here - and that still stands!'

  Juliet swallowed a mouthful of coffee. 'I see. Is there something about me that you particularly dislike, or is it just companions in general?'

  Teresa gave her a doubtful look. 'Stop trying to be clever! I don't know what you said to Felipe, but whatever it was you won't persuade me as you appear to have persuaded him!'

  'Your uncle realizes that you need company — of your own age!'

  'You're not my age!'

  'I know. But I'm a lot nearer your age than anyone else here!'

  'So what? You know nothing about me! I don't particularly get along with - with - women!'

  'Don't you? Oh, that is a disappointment!' Juliet's voice was slightly teasing. 'Then we'll have to see about getting you some — boy-friends.'

  'Don't you dare!' Teresa's face was flushed now. 'If you're thinking of bringing some of the other boys and girls on the island here to meet me, forget it! I won't see them!'

  'Why not?' Juliet was curious in spite of herself.

  'Because they bore me stiff!'

  Juliet frowned. 'How do you know? If you've never met them?''I don't want to meet anybody.'

  'Oh, I see.' Juliet looked thoughtful.

  Teresa seemed to get more annoyed at this. 'Now don't go imagining it's because I'm in a wheelchair!' she exclaimed. 'My condition hasn't altered anything. I never did like - boys!'

  Juliet compressed her lips. Teresa seemed completely self-sufficient. Why was it that she sensed that she was not?

  Changing the subject, she said: 'Well, as we are here, and I am staying, what shall we do this morning?'

  Teresa finished her fruit juice, and wiped her mouth on her napkin. 'I don't know what you're doing - I'm going to sit here and read, and listen to my radio.'

  Juliet sighed. 'Oh, is that so? What if I insist that you accompany me?'

  Teresa frowned. 'You couldn't!'

  'Oh, couldn't I?' Juliet ran her tongue over her lips. CI think I could. Your uncle has made me your companion - and I mean to be just that!'

  Teresa gripped the arms of her chair. 'You can't force me to do anything,' she exclaimed hotly.

  'No, not force exactly!' Juliet finished the peach, drained, her coffee cup, and then lit a cigarette, savouring it lazily. 'Tell me, Teresa, do you swim?'

  'No!'

  'Why not?' Juliet blew a smoke-ring into the air. 'Can't you?'

  'I could - I did, until I had my accident.' Teresa bent her head.

  'You ought not to be reminding her of that, Miss Summers,' remarked a woman's voice in an accent that could only be American.

  Juliet glanced round interestedly. So this was Miss Madison, Teresa's nurse. As the Duque had said, she was a much older woman, slim and gaunt-looking, her greying hair drawn back into a tight knot. Not a very inspiring companion for a rebellious sixteen-year- old.

  'You must be Miss Madison,' said Juliet now. 'I'm pleased to meet you. However, I don't think there's any point in hedging about something which must have become quite inescapable to a girl as imaginative as Teresa.'

  The older woman came to stand before her. 'Are you qualified to give psychiatric opinions, Miss Summers?' she asked coldly.

  Lord, thought Juliet, another one!

  Aloud, she said: 'No. Not at all. Merely imaginative myself!'

  'What do you mean?'

  'Simply that keeping Teresa a prisoner of her own thoughts never helped anyone!' Juliet controlled the ready flow of words she felt like uttering. Instead, she said: 'I've just been suggesting that Teresa ought to swim. It might give her confidence in the use of her limbs.'

  Miss Madison stiffened. 'Teresa has never wanted to do any of these things, and it is not good for her to be upset.'

  Teresa was watching this interchange with some enjoyment, and Juliet knew it.

  'I don't think Teresa gets upset as easily as all that,' she replied, praying she was right. 'Anyway, as I shall be here to keep her company, we may yet persuade her — between us.'

  'I am employed as Teresa's nurse,' replied Miss Madison coldly. 'The Duque gives me my orders. When he suggests that
Teresa ought to go swimming then I will endeavour to accomplish it.'

  Fiddlesticks, thought Juliet impatiently, but she merely smiled, and refrained from replying.

  The nurse seated herself beside Teresa, and began to speak to her in fluent Portuguese. Juliet wrinkled her nose, and said:

  'Do you mind? I don't speak Portuguese. What are you telling Teresa now?'

  Miss Madison gave her a haughty glance. 'I suggest you attempt to learn the language, Miss Summers, if you intend to stay here. The Duque probably thinks you speak fluent Portuguese, as I do. Of course, as Senhora Vinceiro hired you I don't suppose she bothered to find out. So long as Teresa is out of her way, she will be happy.'

  Juliet felt a sneaking sympathy for Estelle Vinceiro. She also felt disturbed at what Nurse Madison said. Her words had proved where her sympathies lay, and Juliet doubted whether it was good for Teresa to have a woman so obviously willing to console her as her constant companion. Still, this was only her second day on the island, and it was far too soon to begin wreaking havoc with the Duque's employees.

  Getting to her feet, she left them, walking across the courtyard to the fountain and trailing her fingers in the cool water. It was a beautiful morning, much too nice to spend cooped up in the quinta.

  With decision, she turned and said to Teresa: 'Does your uncle have a car which you can use if ever you want to go down to the village?'

  Teresa frowned. 'There is an estate car which is seldom used. Why?'

  'You and I are going out. You can take me on a guided tour of the island.'

  Nurse Madison got to her feet. 'Teresa usually spends some time with me during the mornings, senhorita. There are exercises—'

  'I think we can leave them just for one morning, don't you?' remarked Juliet sweetly. 'And please, call me Rosemary - or Miss Summers. Although I am sure your Portuguese is impeccable, calling me senhorita is really carrying things too far, don't you think?'