by Anne Mather
'No, thanks.' Teresa glanced round and saw the Duque descending the path again. 'You're just like Laura Weston, do you know that?'
'The other companion?'
'Yes. I'll bet my uncle did not tell you why she was dismissed.'
'He said you didn't like her.'
'No, I didn't.' Teresa sneered. 'But that wasn't why she was dismissed.' She put the tips of her fingers together. 'She made a fool of herself over Felipe, that's why she was dismissed!'
Juliet felt the colour wash over her body. 'Well,' she said, speaking quickly before the Duque arrived, 'you need have no anxiety in that direction, so far as I am concerned.'
'No?'
'No.'
The Duque reached them. 'There you are, Teresa,' he said, smiling. 'Some coffee, and some dark glasses. We won't be very long.'
Teresa shrugged, apparently accepting the situation, but Juliet wondered whether her mind was already pondering possibilities of her new companion making a fool of herself over her uncle, and thus bringing about her own dismissal.
In consequence, as they walked across the sand together, Juliet felt tongue-tied, and the Duque studied her expression thoughtfully.
'I am quite aware of my niece's facility for causing dissension,' he remarked surprisingly. 'Teresa is young and painfully aware of her vulnerability. Maybe that is why she clings to me.'
Juliet shrugged, not answering, and he said, a little impatiently: 'Senhorita, at the risk of appearing conceited, I must confess you do not appear to enjoy my company as much as any other woman of my acquaintance.'
Juliet stared at him now, her cheeks burning. 'I am sorry, senhor. I was thinking of other things.'
'Obviously. Might one ask what "things"?'
She sighed. 'You didn't tell me Miss Weston was dismissed because -she became - well, infatuated with you.'
He smiled now, completely without mockery, and Juliet was struck again by the magnetic appeal he emanated. 'Deus,' he exclaimed, 'you are the most forthright young woman I have ever met. You do not - how do you say - pull your punches, do you?'
'Is it true?'
He shrugged. 'Maybe.'
'In other words - yes.'
He did not reply, and then they reached the boat- house, and he extracted a bunch of keys from the pocket of his riding breeches, and inserted one in the lock.
Inside, it was gloomy and a little damp-smelling, as though the wood might be rotting in places. There was a sleek motor boat, painted red and white, lying in the centre, and along -the sides of the building were hung rubber diving suits, oxygen cylinders, masks and goggles, and all the other paraphernalia common to skin-diving.
Leaving the door wide to admit the light, the Duque showed Juliet how the cylinders worked, and she had to appear completely ignorant of the technicalities.
The Duque climbed into the motor boat, examining the fuel gauge, turning on the ignition, doing all the usual checks a boatman might do. He went down on his haunches, climbing into the small covered cabin of the craft, while Juliet interested herself in a map she had found hanging on the wall. When the Duque emerged again, swinging up on to the wooden planking, several of the buttons of his shirt had become loosened, leaving his chest bare to his waist, darkly tanned, and covered with dark hairs. He walked past Juliet, wiped his hands on a cloth, and said:
'I see you are examining the chart. The crosses mark the dives that have already been made.' He came to stand beside her, but that was too much for Juliet. There was something wholly disturbing about his almost animal sensuality, and her own emotions were rapidly disturbing her.
With jerky movements, she brushed past him, intending to get out into the sunshine as soon as was possible, but her foot slipped on the planks, her ankle turned, and she stumbled and would have fallen had he not caught her, grasping her arms, and pulling her up so that momentarily she was against the hard warmth of his chest. She felt the smoothness of his skin with its overlying layer of hair beneath her fingers, and knew that she wanted to slide her arms round his neck, and put her mouth against the firm lips of the Duque. Everything Teresa had said swam dizzily through her mind, and with a wrench she was out of his arms and out of the boathouse with superhuman speed.
CHAPTER FIVE
THE journey back to the quinta was uneventful. Only Teresa seemed aware that something was amiss, and her eyes had narrowed curiously at Juliet's sudden return to her on the beach, minus the Duque. He came a little while later, strolling lazily across the sand after locking up the boathouse again. He spoke to Teresa, relaxed with her, and completely ignored Juliet:
After lunch, which was a silent meal, the Duque Excused himself, Teresa was taken by Nurse Madison for her rest, and Juliet was left to her own devices. She decided to stay in her own room, and read a little before lying down and allowing her thoughts free rein.
She determinedly thrust all thoughts of Duque Felipe de Castro out of her mind, and thought instead about Rosemary, and her father. She wondered whether he had made any progress in endeavouring to find her. It seemed much more than six days since she left England. The life there, her friends and activities, seemed a world away. A world moreover to which she had no desire to return. That was the frightening thing. Whereas, in the beginning, it had begun almost as an escapade, now it had achieved the proportions of something large and important, and she no longer wanted to jeopardize her chances of remaining on Venterra, even if it meant humouring Teresa.
In this, of course, she was helped by Estelle Vinceiro's attitude, and also that of the Duque himself.
The Duque!
Her thoughts raced. What had happened in the boathouse that morning? Had he been aware of her nervousness, of the primitive sensations he aroused in her? Had he sensed her controlled withdrawal had been brought about by a supreme test of will-power?
She rolled on to her stomach, recalling the feel of his body against hers. She had never felt that way before. She had swum with boys, kissed boys in bathing suits, so why did the Duque disturb her so much? She had always criticized girls who allowed their emotions to rule their heads. She had always thought they were foolish and weak-willed. But now she was beginning to feel the strength of an attraction that cared little for will-power, or convention. After all, the Duque was much older than she was, and obviously more experienced. Who could say but that maybe he had indulged in a light affair with this girl, Laura Weston, and then after her dismissal had pretended she had been the guilty party! Maybe he indulged in affairs often. Maybe, as she was young, and a new face around the quinta, he thought she might enjoy it too.
Then she squashed these ideas. Whatever else the Duque might be he was not promiscuous. She didn't know exactly how she knew this, but she did. A man who lived life lightly, uncaring of a person's feelings, could not inspire such love and devotion in his people as she had witnessed in Venterra that morning.
She rolled on to her back again. It was ridiculous really, she thought, sighing. Even indulging in this kind of mental pondering. After all, sooner or later Robert Lindsay would find her, and then . ..
The Duque had visitors for dinner that evening, so Juliet asked Consuelo if she could have her dinner in her room. It seemed apparent that Nurse Madison intended keeping Teresa with her for the remainder of the afternoon when her siesta was over, so that Juliet's involvement with the girl was very slight. Apart from the morning, she was obviously going to be left to herself, and she had no desire to intrude on any dinner party the Duque might be giving. Consuelo had told her that there were to be six for dinner: Estelle Vinceiro; the Duque's sister Amalia and her husband, Juan Bestado; a young Spaniard called Francisco Valmos, as well as Teresa and the Duque himself.
The next morning, she breakfasted with Teresa as usual, and then had Miguel assist her to persuade the girl to go in the car. They drove to Venterra, and Teresa stayed moodily in the car while Juliet did some personal shopping. She had offered to assist the girl into her wheelchair, but she wouldn't listen to her, and in consequence Juliet felt guilty aga
in.
The Duque was not present for lunch, and Consuelo said: 'Your uncle asked me to give you a message, senhorita.'
Teresa looked more alert than she had done all morning. 'Yes?'
'He has had to fly to Barbados on business, and may not be back for a few days, senhorita. Apparently it was a sudden decision, brought about by a telephone call this morning.'
Teresa looked sullen. 'Oh, really!' She chewed at her lip angrily. 'Is that all?'
'I think so, senhorita. If you had been at home at the time—'
'Of course. If!' muttered Teresa, with passion. She looked at Juliet. 'I suppose you imagine this will give you the chance to treat me as you like.'
Juliet gasped. 'Of course not!'
'It is as well, for you will be disappointed!' said Teresa harshly.
Juliet gave a sigh. 'Why must you persist in this ridiculous antagonism?' she exclaimed wearily. 'Can't you see I'm here now, and there's nothing you can do about it!'
'Isn't there? Isn't there just!' Teresa wheeled her chair away from the table. 'Consuelo! Get Nurse Madison. I want to go to my room.'
Teresa's rooms, Juliet knew, were on the ground floor for convenience, but as she had never been invited there, she didn't know where they were.
Leaving the table herself, she walked outside on to the patio, wishing Teresa was a simple ordinary girl, with ordinary tastes, and ordinary likes and dislikes, not ruled by an obsessive passion for her uncle.
With decision, she went up to her room, donned her black swimsuit, and throwing a striped black and white | towelling beach coat over all, she descended the stairs ! again, and crossed the gardens to the path leading I down to the beach.
Shading her eyes with dark glasses, she sunbathed for a while before plunging into the cooling waters of the Caribbean. Although the water was warm, it was refreshing, and she swam lazily, turning on to her back and floating.
Afterwards she lay on the beach again, and then returned to the quinta in time for afternoon tea, which was invariably served in her room. However, today as she crossed the' marble hall, Estelle Vinceiro appeared from the direction of the lounge, and said:
'Excuse me, Senhorita Summers. Have you a moment? Will you have tea with me?'
Juliet smiled. 'Well, if you will allow me to dress first,' she exclaimed ruefully.
Estelle inclined her small, delicately moulded head. ( 'Of course. I shall await you in the lounge.'
The lounge was a large but comfortable room, well endowed with deep armchairs and settees, its elegance coming from an intricately carved ceiling and tapestry- hung walls. A superb collection of china and porcelain were in a large cabinet, and there was a chiming French clock on the mantel above a magnificent fireplace.
When Juliet returned, feeling; more relaxed in a slim-fitting white shift of embroidered cotton, she found Estelle sitting on a skin-covered couch, in command of a silver tea service and wafer thin cups and saucers.
'Cream and sugar, senhorita?' she questioned.
'Just cream, thank you,' said Juliet, sitting down opposite her. 'It's a beautiful day.'
'Yes, isn't it? There you are!' She handed Juliet a cup of tea, offered sandwiches and cakes, and then taking her own cup, lay back lazily, crossing her legs, for all the world as though she were already mistress of the quinta.
Juliet sipped her tea, thinking desperately of something to say. 'The - er - Duque left this morning for Barbados,' she ventured.
Estelle smiled silkily. 'Yes, I know. Naturally, he telephoned me before his departure.'
Juliet smiled, nodded, returned her attention to her tea. Estelle was scrutinizing her very thoroughly, and although she liked the, woman, she did not like such appraising scrutiny.
Finally, Estelle said: 'Tell me, senhorita, how are you getting on with Teresa?'
Juliet sighed. She did not want to offend the other woman but nor did she particularly want to discuss Teresa with her.
'We - we are making - slow progress,' she said awkwardly.
'That I can believe. And the Duque? Does he take Teresa's part so that your job is doubly difficult?'
'No. That is - I don't think so.'
Estelle nodded, as though well satisfied. 'You may not know, Senhorita Summers, but at the time Teresa's accident occurred, Felipe - that is, the Duque and I, were planning to get married.'
Juliet stiffened. 'Oh, yes?'
'Yes. That is why, naturally, I am endeavouring to find someone to whom Teresa will take a liking. It is difficult, you understand. Felipe will not consider marriage while Teresa is so helpless - so dependent upon him.'
'I see.' Juliet finished her tea and stood down her cup. Estelle flicked open a cigarette box on the table, and said:
'Do you smoke, senhorita?'
Juliet said she did, took a cigarette, and accepted a light. Estelle did hot smoke, but folded her hands, and continued to survey her companion.
'Do you not have a boy-friend, senhorita? Someone at home, in England, someone special?'
Juliet shook her head. 'I'm afraid not.'
'That is sad. You are - how old?'
'Twenty-one, senhora.'
'Hmm. It is surprising. You are an attractive girl. Are your parents alive?'
'Only my father, senhora.
'Your mother is dead?'
'She died when I was born.''
Juliet was getting a little tired of this catechism. There were plenty of questions she would have liked to ask, but she doubted whether she would get answers for them.
The Senhora seemed to realize this, for she said: 'I am sorry if I appear curious, senhorita, but as Teresa's - well - aunt-to-be, I feel a little responsible.'
'I see.'
'Please don't be offended.' Estelle smiled, and Juliet allowed herself to smile also, although a little of her liking for Senhora Vinceiro was evaporating. Her possessive attitude was rather annoying, and the way she acted as though she was already in charge was bound to infuriate Teresa if it annoyed Juliet. For all her friendliness, Juliet felt that Estelle was merely using her and that her friendliness was just a way of getting what she wanted. Maybe she thought that in Juliet she had an ally in her effort to get the Duque to agree to a marriage in the near future. What she couldn't know was the emotional chaos Juliet herself had been plunged into since her arrival on Venterra.
She even felt a sneaking sympathy for Teresa, and her unrewarding infatuation for the man who had brought her here. There was so much to like and admire about the Duque that it would not be difficult to fall in love with him.
Fall in love with him!
Juliet brought herself up short. She was allowing her imagination to run away with her. Just because the Duque was something outside of her experience, outside of the normal run of men, that was no reason to mistake admiration for infatuation.
All of a sudden, she wanted to get away from Estelle Vinceiro and the disturbing thoughts she aroused. She had done enough thinking the previous day. She had no desire to think any more!
Standing up, she said: 'Will you excuse me, senhora? I - I have things I want to do. Letters to write. You understand?'
Estelle Vinceiro studied her for a moment longer, and then said: 'Of course, senhorita. But I would like to say that I hope we can be friends. In this - er — in the quinta, you will find plenty of antagonism. I would like to think that any troubles you encounter, you might bring to me.'
Juliet bit her lip. 'It's very kind of you to say so, but I don't think—'
'You can never tell!' interposed Estelle smoothly. 'Aden's, for the moment.'
Juliet made her way to her room, on legs that were strangely weak. It must be the swimming, she thought, closing her bedroom door wearily. It must have tired me more than I imagined!
In the ten days that followed Juliet suffered a great deal of antagonism. To begin with, in her uncle's absence, Teresa refused to join her companion for breakfast, spending hours in her rooms with Nurse Madison. As each day passed, Juliet realized she had absolu
tely no control over the girl, and what was more she had no authority while the Duque was away.
It infuriated her, but there was little she could do, short of actually dragging Teresa out of her room, and as she didn't know where that room was, that prevented that. She could have questioned the servants, but it seemed such a menial way of going on, and she was not used to humiliating herself like this.
By the end of the first week that the Duque was away, Juliet was spending most of her time alone. She swam,' she sunbathed, she even played tennis with Miguel, but she was bored, for this was what she had left England for. She had questioned Consuelo as to where she might get in touch with the Duque, but after an abortive series of telephone calls to hotels in Barbados, she gave up. She could see nothing for it but to wait until the Duque returned.
Then, one morning, she had a visitor. He was a tall, lean young Spaniard, and introduced himself as Francisco Valmos.
Juliet smiled, glad of anyone new to speak to. 'You must be the Senor Valmos who dined here a week ago,' she exclaimed.
He smiled. He was very handsome, and obviously rather bemused by Juliet's cool, auburn-haired beauty after the dark and dusky-skinned women of his own race.
'That is correct, senorita,' he agreed enthusiastically. 'But now I am told Felipe is away.'
'Yes. In Barbados.'
'Ah, that is unfortunate, but yet pleasing, for now I can speak to you without fear of interruption. My - er - distant cousin, Estelle Vinceiro, told me a little about you.'
'And she didn't tell you that Fel— the Duque was away?'
He looked a little shamefaced. 'Actually, yes, I knew. But I wanted to meet you for myself.'
Juliet laughed. 'Oh, really!' She folded her arms, looking at him mockingly. Francisco Valmos was a little like the young men she was used to. With him she would have no difficulties.
'Yes. So senorita, will you offer me some chocolate, and we can talk, here on the patio?'
'All right. Why not?' Juliet summoned Consuelo. 'Two chocolates, please, Consuelo.'When they were seated on the patio, with their drinks, and cigarettes were lighted, Francisco said: