Sweet Revenge

by Anne Mather

  She swayed now. 'Senhor, your opinion of me is not important!'

  'You are wrong, senhorita. It is very important - in some ways. The morals of a woman are always important !'

  'My God!' Toni shook her head. 'What am I supposed to have done? Pretended to be Paul's fiancee, that's all. Is that a crime? I haven't seduced him or anything.'

  He caught her angrily by the shoulders, shaking her violently. 'I will tell you, senhorita, what you have done. You attempted to seduce the husband of a good friend of mine - Miguel de Calle!'

  He let her go, and she fell, supporting herself weakly against the chair. 'You - you're crazy,' she gasped. 'I didn't do that!' She moved her head helplessly. 'Your friend believes what it suits her to believe! That is the truth!'

  The Conde looked derisive. 'You are telling me that Miguel forced his attentions on you? That he ignored Estelle, his wife, to attempt to make love to his children's governess?'

  'Yes. That's exactly what he did do!' Toni was pale.

  The Conde gave a shake of his head. 'Oh, senhorita, do you think I am fool? Do I look so gullible? Am I perhaps still wet behind the ears? No! No, senhorita, I am not a fool. Miguel is a rich man. A woman like you would not object to a rich man's attentions, should he find you attractive!'

  Toni was aghast. 'How dare you!'

  'You will find, senhorita, that I dare a lot of things!' He linked his hard fingers about her slim wrist, drawing her relentlessly towards him. Toni struggled desperately, trying to free herself, but she was close against the muscular length of his body and the movements did peculiar things to her metabolism. Her breath was swift and breathing was difficult; she could feel the smooth, expensive material of his suit, and smell the faint odour of shaving lotion and the heat of his body; his hand hurt her as it twisted her arm a little cruelly behind her, but his mouth disturbed her most of all. It was only inches above her own, smiling mockingly, his eyes darkened with contempt. 'So, senhorita,' he murmured, 'what do you say now?'

  Toni felt her head throbbing, but as swiftly was aware of the change in his attitude. One moment he was holding her mockingly, derisively, jeering at her futile attempts to free herself, and the next his eyes had strange lights dancing in their depths, and his hold brought her closer against the firm hardness of his body. He stared at her for a heart-stopping moment, shaking his head slowly, and then with a muffled exclamation he bent his head and she felt the searing pressure of his mouth parting her own.

  It was the kind of lovemaking Toni had never experienced. She had thought she knew almost everything about kissing, but she at once realized how mistaken she had been. There was an expertise in his touch that aroused her to the full awareness of her own body and its needs, and she felt her resistance slipping away from her. Instead of struggling, she wanted to wind her arms about his neck and let him have his way with her. Gone was the arrogant, self-controlled Conde della Maria Estrada, and in his place was a man, with a man's desires and appetites that hungered for satisfaction. When Toni had almost forgotten everything, her surroundings, her antagonism towards this man, and most important of all his contempt for her, he thrust her savagely away from him, a cruel smile twisting his mouth.

  Toni swayed on her feet, grasping the chair to support herself, while he continued to stare at her with mocking eyes. 'So, senhorita,' he said, harshly, 'it is as I thought. You do not find my lovemaking so unpleasant !'

  Toni buried her face in her hands. 'Go away,' she muttered unsteadily. 'Go away!'

  The Conde straightened, and smoothed his hair with j a lazy hand. 'I will go when I am ready, senhorita. And now you cannot deny that I have proved my point.'

  Toni looked up wearily. 'What point?'

  'That you are weak and promiscuous!' He drew out his cigarette case, extracted one, and lit it with deliberate ease. Then he looked at her through a haze of blue smoke. 'Nevertheless, I cannot deny that you are a - how shall I put it? - beautiful woman,' he spoke dispassionately, surveying her appraisingly, 'and maybe Miguel would not require too much encouragement—'

  'I did not encourage him!' Toni clenched her fists. 'For heaven's sake, senhor, leave me alone! I didn't want to come here in the first place, and I will leave as soon as I'm able!' She stiffened her back. 'And don't think because I'm incumbent upon your generosity that you are entitled to treat me as you will! Whatever your misconceived beliefs may be, I do not subscribe to them!'

  He gave an amused laugh. 'Senhorita, you are unique! You expect me to believe your story when I have it from Miguel de Calle himself that you deliberately tried to entice him into your bedroom—'

  'What!' Toni was horrified.

  'Sim! Do not bother to deny it again. Did I not myself witness the predicament you had got yourself into that day in Lisbon? Another case of mistaken encouragement, no doubt! What a record you have, senhorita! Not content with this, you then come here posing as my nephew's fiancee. Unfortunately, for you, Senhora Passamentes is a close friend of Estelle de Calle. She remembered vaguely seeing you there, and after I had checked her story with the de Calles, your masquerade was over.'

  Toni sank down on to the chair. That was why Laura Passamentes had seemed familiar that night! Naturally, as the children's governess she had had no direct contact with guests in the house, but she would be seen about her duties.

  She looked up. 'All right, all right,' she said, shaking her head. 'I don't want to hear any more. I've said I'll leave as soon as I can. But as Paul hasn't been to see me for days we haven't been able to finalize the arrangements.'

  The Conde walked lazily towards the door. 'Paul has returned - to England, I imagine,' he remarked coolly. 'He left three days ago. You are staying!'

  'What!' Toni stood up again. 'What do you mean? I won't stay here, whatever nefarious plans are running through your mind!' Her head was throbbing quite badly now, and she couldn't assimilate this sudden change of events.

  'Oh, but you will, senhorita. I will explain the details at some later date, when you are more able to understand—'

  Toni felt sick. 'But I don't want to stay here,' she exclaimed, panicking a little without really knowing why.

  'Maybe not, at the moment,' he murmured softly, 'but you will.'

  'But - but - if Paul has left, how can I stay here? What - what will Francesca say? Or your mother?'

  The Conde smiled sardonically. 'Oh, didn't I tell you?' he said lazily. 'You're to be Francesca's new governess!'

  CHAPTER SIX

  WITHIN a week Toni felt completely normal again, if achieving a recovery from the severe knock on her head was feeling completely normal. She felt stronger and could leave her room without feeling tired, except in the evenings, and she had already been down to the beach alone, and paddled in the clear warm water. They were like days out of time, she thought to herself. She was left almost entirely to herself, except for meals, which she shared with either Francesca, the Condessa, or both. The Conde had returned to Lisbon, she was informed, and as the Condessa continued to call her Janet she assumed the rest of the family had not been informed of her altered status. It was all strange and incredible, and she sometimes wondered if she had dreamt that scene in her room when the Conde had held her in his arms and made savage, passionate love to her, before lashing her with his tongue and then astounding her by telling her she was to be Francesca's governess. It was all too fantastic, but as yet she had not the strength to make any definite arrangements about leaving, so she stayed on, and continued to play her part.

  Of course, that didn't stop her from wondering why Paul had left so abruptly. Surely he hadn't given up his ideas of becoming rich so easily? It didn't sound at all like Paul, who was nothing if not persistent.

  Sighing, she refused to consider the problem any longer, and collecting her swimsuit she made her way down to the beach. Stretched out on the sands she felt warm and content, and could almost forget the disturbing ache she felt in her stomach whenever she thought of the Conde.

  Francesca found her the
re, and sat down beside her, speaking to her for the first time since that day in her bedroom.

  'My father rang this morning,' she said thoughtfully, examining a shell with concentrated attention.

  'Oh, yes!' Toni was wary. She had not yet recovered from the way these della Maria Estradas treated her.

  'Yes. He asked if you were still here.'

  Toni felt sarcastic. 'Did he imagine I might leave?'

  'No.' Francesca was calm. 'He told me you were staying indefinitely.'

  Toni sat up, and rubbed her head a little ruefully as the sudden movement brought a faint pounding. She looked at the girl. 'Did he tell you why?' she asked.

  Francesca shrugged. 'He said you were to become my governess. He said your name wasn't Janet West at all, but Antonia Morley. Is that right?'

  Toni swallowed. 'Toni Morley,' she amended slowly. 'No one calls me Antonia.'

  Francesca sighed. 'You're not Paul's fiancee, then?'

  'No.'

  'Does my father—' she flushed, and rested her chin on her updrawn knees,'—does my father - is he - well, are you his mistress?'

  Toni's eyes widened. 'No!' Then she frowned. 'But you said that so calmly. I-I always thought you were - well, jealous of him! Wouldn't you care - if it were true?'

  Francesca lifted her shoulders. 'My father told me I was not to question you about - well, personal things. I thought naturally - oh, I don't know what I thought.'

  Toni studied the girl compassionately. T really believe you do care about your father,' she exclaimed. 'I thought you were rude and spoilt and jealous! But it's not that-is it?'

  Francesca looked at her fully. 'I want my father to be happy!' she said passionately. 'No one who had anything to do with Paul could make me like them!'

  Toni sighed. 'But why? Why? Francesca, tell me why?'

  Francesca shook her head. 'No. It's not my story to tell. Besides, like you said, you're not interested in my father.'

  Toni knelt on her knees, allowing the sun to beat down on her bare shoulders. 'The only thing is, Francesca, I have no intention of staying here. Of becoming your, or anyone else's, governess, in Portugal!'

  The girl looked aghast. 'Oh, but you must, you must!'

  'Why must I?'

  'Because - well, because he said so!'

  'Well, he will have to find someone else,' retorted Toni shortly. 'I don't want to stay here, and he can't make me!'

  Francesca studied the shell again. 'I wouldn't say that, senhorita.'

  Toni got to her feet. 'For heaven's sake, call me Toni. I'm sick of hearing that word senhorita!'

  Francesca shrugged. 'All right. Now where are you going?'

  Toni shook her head. 'I don't know. I don't know. Why did Paul leave?'

  'My father made him go. He paid him money.'

  'What!'

  Francesca looked up. 'You didn't expect him to go without money, did you?' she asked, with unexpectedly adult candour.

  'I see.' Toni gave a short laugh. 'I wonder why he didn't pay me off?'

  Francesca shrugged. 'I don't know. There's something strange about it.'

  Toni shivered. Even standing there in the heat of the sun she felt cold. She remembered the Conde too well; he could be completely ruthless, and if her own body aroused him to an acute awareness of her, she was infinitely more vulnerable. She had everything to lose, with a man who thought she was easy game.

  She gathered her things together, and Francesca looked up at her with eyes which were uncannily like her father's.

  'Don't leave,' she said simply.

  Toni stared at her, compassion welling up inside her. The child had had a raw deal with her mother dying like that, and having to live her life with a man who was withdrawn and perhaps embittered by the incident in his life that had scarred him so savagely.

  She tried to thrust away these thoughts. When had any of the della Maria Estradas shown any compassion for her, except perhaps the old Condessa?

  'Your grandmother—' she began.

  'Need never know who you are. You can say you used to teach, before you took up office work. She is out of touch with the modern world. She would have no reason to disbelieve you. If my father says it is so, it is so!'

  At the mention of the Conde Toni felt her melting compliance harden into distaste. She would not stay, she could not stay. There was too much at stake, and something inside her warned her that it was more than her self-respect.

  'I - I must go and get changed,' she said, changing the subject, trying to ignore the pain she glimpsed in Francesca's eyes before the perpetual mask resumed its place.

  'Of course, senhorita,' she said coldly, and resumed her examination of the sea shells.

  Toni hesitated a moment, then without another word turned and walked back to the castelo.

  However, despite Francesca's attitude on the beach, Toni found in the days that followed that the child followed her almost everywhere, even suggesting they should take walks together, exploring the surrounding countryside. There were horses in stables at the castelo, but as Toni had only ridden very occasionally at a riding school, she refused to join Francesca at this particular pastime.

  So they walked, and talked, and Toni found Francesca quite a stimulating companion. Once her initial antagonism was conquered she chattered away quite naturally, telling Toni about her previous governess, Mademoiselle Dupont, who had been middle-aged and frumpish, and completely incapable of controlling a high-spirited girl like Francesca.

  It was strange, she thought, how Paul's departure had changed the child's personality, but Toni began to feel pangs of anxiety as she realized that soon she must make definite arrangements for leaving herself.

  When she mentioned this to Francesca, she frowned, and said: 'I really think you ought to stay until my father comes back from Lisbon.'

  Toni shook her head. 'Francesca, the nurse has long gone, and even Doctor Rodrigues admits that I am fully recovered. There's nothing to keep me here. I'm a working girl! I've got to get another job!'

  Francesca pouted, displaying the face Toni had grown used to seeing in those early days. 'Why can't you stay here? Surely this job is as good as any other, and I am quite sure the salary will be very generous.'

  Toni sighed. 'It's no good, Francesca. Look, you know I came here as Paul's fiancee. It was all supposed to be a bit of a laugh. Nothing serious, you understand. Then when we get here I find that Paul is trying to take his grandmother for every penny he can get, and I wanted to leave - at once. Then there was - well, the accident — and other things, and now I've been here over two weeks and it can't go on.' She hunched her shoulders. 'I don't know why your father sent Paul away, but I do know that I'm not going to be used by him in some nefarious plan that I don't know about. I've had enough of intrigue. As it is I cringe every time your grandmother calls me Janet. I want to revert to being me again, Toni Morley, a plain, ordinary girl without any pretensions to grandeur. It's no good, Francesca. Can't you try to understand?'

  Francesca sighed. 'I'm trying to, Toni, honestly I am. It's just - I want you to stay!'

  There was a knock at the door and a maid entered, speaking in Portuguese to Francesca. They were sitting in the lounge reading magazines today, for a heavy mist had descended that morning, and now in the late afternoon the day was dull and dismal. Toni thought it reflected her mood, and she barely listened to what the maid was saying. Then she heard the words Senhora e Estevan Passamentes, and frowned.

  Francesca glanced at her, as the maid nodded and withdrew. 'Laura Passamentes and Estevan have arrived.'

  Toni rase to her feet quickly. 'I'll go to my room.'

  Francesca put a hand on her arm. 'Of course you won't. You are not a servant, you are my friend. You will stay and have some afternoon tea with us.'

  Toni looked down at the close-fitting navy pants and chunky mustard-coloured sweater she was wearing. Her hair was in a ponytail today, and she looked little older than Francesca. 'Honestly, Francesca,' she was saying awkwardly, '
I'm not dressed for visitors,' when the door opened to admit Laura Passamentes, followed closely by her son.

  Francesca gave Toni a rueful smile, then rose to greet her guests. Laura was wearing black again, a black suit of heavy crepe, that moulded her small, delicately proportioned body. Her hair was a snug black cap against her head, and her face was perfectly made-up. Estevan looked young and boyish, and grinned cheerfully at . Francesca.

  'Francesca, my dear,' Laura was saying, speaking in English for Toni's benefit. 'It is nice to see you. Estevan was so lost at home today - the weather, you understand, and he begged me to come and visit you.' She gave Estevan a fond smile. 'I couldn't refuse him. Are you well?'

  Francesca answered her, asking about Laura's health, and generally behaving as a hostess should. Then Laura turned her attention to Toni, taking in the picture she made, assessing every item of her clothing with an experienced eye.

  'So, senhorita,' she said, 'you are still here!' There was a veiled insolence behind the words, and Toni flushed uncomfortably. She was aware that Laura must know her true identity, and despise her for her deception.

  'Yes, senhor a' she replied now. 'But I shall be leaving very soon.'

  Laura shrugged her slim shoulders. 'It was - unfortunate - that you should have that accident so - inopportunely !'

  Francesca glanced at Toni. 'It was as much my fault as - as - Toni's,' she said, turning back to Laura. 'If I had not been careless, Toni would not have slipped.'

  Toni smiled at the girl. It was the first time Francesca had admitted her own part in that affair.

  'I see.' Laura looked sceptical. 'So it is Toni now, is it? You were forced to reveal your true identity, senhorita?'

  Toni managed a small smile. 'At your instigation - yes, senhorita,' she said politely.

  Laura looked a little taken aback. 'And your grandmother, Francesca, does she know—'

  'No!' Francesca was swift to reply. 'I - I don't think we should tell her. My father will tell her when he considers it necessary.'