by Mariska
"I understand that he's a first-class engineer and a good businessman," she said with reserve.
"He's more than that. They actually postponed installing the hydroelectric plant at the Falls till he was free to superintend it. And he seems to have a sort of instinct for minerals. He found your beryl—I didn't."
"Doesn't he ever live in Spain?"
"When he takes leave he divides his time between San Feliz and London. He was born in San Feliz—it's a marvellous island off the North African coast—and he was educated in Spain till he was of an age to attend an English university. He and I were at Cambridge together, and we joined the Air Force together, too. After the war he went back to San Feliz for a while to help install a hydroelectric project there; the island is mountainous, and there's plenty of rushing water. Fernando loves San Feliz, but there's not enough construction work on the del Cuero estate for a man of his temperament, so he leaves a manager in charge. You should see him there—the grand caballero!"
"I can imagine it," she said drily. "Even here he has everything well in hand."
"He is an autocrat," Neville agreed, "but he's done me many a good turn. This Amanzi job is another. I shouldn't be surprised if it isn't the best thing that's happened to me, both financially and otherwise!" he ended, his brown eyes glinting.
She caught his meaning and laughed, her cheeks bright. "I must confess that I'm glad you're not a Spaniard!"
He took his seat and thumbed the starter. "So long!" he called through the window space. "I can hardly wait to move in!"
Lesley was still smiling when she went indoors to her father. He had spread himself on the divan and was staring, his expression remote, at the asbestos board ceiling. However, he turned his head her way and said affectionately, "Things are moving fast, aren't they? Madison's a nice fellow. I don't think he has Fernando's ability, but we'll find him a good companion. Too bad he couldn't stay to supper."
"We only caught two trout!"
"You'd have thought Fernando would have come with him, wouldn't you?"
Slowly Lesley answered, "I don't somehow think our senor will come to the house again, without an invitation." And in a way she hoped he wouldn't. With a man such as Neville Madison one knew more or less where one stood; he would philander a little in a complimentary fashion; he would jest and generally enjoy himself. From the fact or two he had let drop, he couldn't allow himself to be taken seriously by any woman, which suited Lesley perfectly. The less she saw of the Spanish caballero the better.
CHAPTER II
THE spare room needed a more thorough cleaning than Lesley had anticipated. Their trunks and boxes had been stored against the walls,
and she was appalled to discover that they had joined themselves to the plaster by a thick green fungus which must have appeared since the last rains. A film of mildew she had been prepared for, but this smelly growth was something quite outside her knowledge. Together, she and Solomon swept and scrubbed, but the walls were irrevocably stained. There seemed to be nothing for it but to apply a new coat of distemper and keep the window wide open. Lesley did the distempering on Tuesday, finishing at about half-past five with such abominably aching shoulders that she was half-inclined to stay away from Anna Pemberton's campfire party. Had it not been for the fact that Anna had detailed her brother-in-law to pick up Lesley, she would certainly have remained at home with her father. But Tod Pemberton breezed in at seven-fifteen and expressed himself willing to wart just ten minutes while Lesley got into a sweater and skirt, so she braced herself and tried to hurry.
It was a glorious night. A wind plucked at the big leaves of the teak trees and rustled drily through the thorns. The sky was spangled black velvet except where it was touched by the glow of the camp fires which had been lit just beyond the Pembertons' garden in the lee of a group of old coffee trees.
It was nearly eight, and the smell of grilling sausages and lamb chops
was remarkably appetising. Trays full of rolls, baked earlier in the day, were keeping warm near the brick fireplace, and a table was laden with plates and glasses and heaps of fresh fruit.
There was the usual crowd. Tod had brought his young wife in from the forest reserve where he worked; the young farmers were here with wives and sweethearts; there were a couple of bank clerks, the doctor's son, and the twin daughters of a colonel who farmed citrus. And at the other campfire, about twenty yards away, Lesley saw, thrown into relief, the dark, distinguished head of Fernando del Cuero. She moved back into the shadows and out of the range of those scorching flames, and with an oddly quickening pulse she watched Fernando toasting a steak fillet as if he were used to doing it every night of his life, and talking with an air of smiling charm with the middle-aged doctor's wife. Against the orange glow his face and throat were burnished copper. One knee was drawn up, and he rested an elbow on it carelessly.
The accordion was suddenly very loud, and those who had finished eating began to sing. Fruit was offered and the dishes replenished, and gradually the guests withdrew from the dying fires and sat on folding chairs or cross-legged on the grass. The doctor's son sung a Dutch song which his father had taught him, and the colonel's twins, who were pretty if rather empty-headed, rendered popular tunes learned from the radio.
Then Tod said, "What about a Spanish song, Señor del Cuero?" Fernando smiled, showing those very white teeth in the flickering darkness. "I am no singer. Even our national anthem I sing off-key."
"Well, tell us about Spain—appropriate subject on a night like this. What is it like in the land of grapes and wild honey?"
"It is very beautiful," he answered calmly. "Very beautiful indeed, and the cities are highly civilised. In the island of San Feliz it is like the Costa Brava of Spain. We still have some Moorish architecture and the lands are rich with fruit trees, canes, olives and palms. My own house there has a fine colonnaded patio which has existed for four hundred years, and in the season we hold a wine feast in the gardens and patio for our vineyard workers. We try to make it possible for every islander to visit Spain at some time, but they all come back."
Bill said heartily, "They say your Spanish women are the most beautiful in the world."
Fernando gave an airy flick of his long fingers. "It may be true. They have good skin and clear eyes, vivacity, and an inherent simplicity because their lives are sheltered. And, being simple, they make good wives!"
"Better than English women?" demanded Anna.
"Only in Spain would I dare assert that! Many of our men have married women of other nations, and I believe—" with a light, wicked laugh—"they have made good husbands. One can take it that such a marriage is not dull. But then, the Spanish are never dull!"
Lesley wanted to ask questions, to find out more about the laughing señoritas, the fiestas, the cathedrals and palaces of Spain. But Anna was at
her side, whispering, "Will you be a dear and run up to the house for me, Lesley? Just look into Terence's bedroom and make sure he's sleeping."
Lesley left the crowd which was scattered between the two fires, and walked through the trees to the garden path which curved round through a shrubbery and crossed the wide lawn to finish at the back door of the farmhouse. It was very quiet. A lamp was turned low in the kitchen, and another was placed on the narrow table between the doors of the main bedrooms. Terence's bedroom door was ajar, and she tiptoed into the room and over to his bed, to look down in the darkness at Anna's son.
She smiled down upon the boy as a woman will, for no other reason than that a sleeping child is good to look upon. The smile was still on her lips when she returned to the kitchen. It froze there because the door was open, and Fernando stood in the doorway. She stared at him in the dim light for a long moment, then recovered quickly. "You frightened me," she said.
"I am sorry." He remained there, unmoving and wordless for a few seconds. Then brusquely, "I wish for a word with you." He cast a glance at the hard white chairs and added, "But not here."
She passed him and stepped down to the pat
h. He pulled shut the door and took her elbow in a light, firm grasp, and she was suddenly conscious of his nearness. His nod indicated the front of the house, and she walked with him to the garden bench below the front veranda. Because he seemed to expect it, she sat down. He dropped down beside her and leaned back, half-facing her. Warblers and weavers were restless in the trees, and Fernando said, "The birds do not care for campfires and singing after dark, and you, I think, have sympathy with them. You did not appear to be enjoying yourself back there."
On the point of remarking that her shoulders ached and she was tired, Lesley checked herself. "I like campfire parties," she said firmly.
"Do you mean That you would be enjoying this one if I were not here?"
"Not at all. As a matter of fact, I was quite interested in the little you told us about Spain. It sounds charming."
"You must travel there some time," he said with irony. "You would find that we are not all made to pattern. The fact that we are more capable of love than are the English should not deter you. You have much to learn about life and the passions of men!"
Lesley blinked. She hadn't expected this kind of comment from Fernando.
She stole a glance at him, saw that the irony still lingered in his expression and gave a humorous twist to the well-cut mouth. He was laughing at her! "That is enough of Spain," he stated, before she could think up a retort. "I would like you to remember sometimes that I am as much English as I am Spanish. I wanted to speak with you about Madison. He tells me you have invited him to stay in your house."
She nodded. "You haven't seen our sheds, or you wouldn't have suggested his living in one of them. The thatches are threadbare."
A shrug. "It would take only a day or two to effect repairs. He has lived in much worse places."
"There are double doors, and the log walls let in the rain."
"There are also remedies for those things. Señorita, a word of warning. Madison is my cousin, and I have no desire to speak against him, but I must tell you that he has a reputation for infidelity. A few years ago he broke off an engagement to a delightful Englishwoman, and since then he has been transferred twice for reasons into which I will not go. At the time he made that girl in England very unhappy; I should not like to think he would do the same to you."
"He won't," she replied confidently. "He seems nice, but .. ."
"Neville always seems nice—increasingly so as one knows him better. But underneath there is the instability, the lack of character."
"If you don't mind, I'd rather wait and weigh him up for myself," she said coolly.
He looked at her, his face taut as if he were on the verge of anger. "You are small, but very independent, Miss Norton, and when you take a dislike to someone you do it thoroughly. Well, I do not object to that; I am a thorough man myself. But there appears to be one aspect of this of which you lose sight. Your father and I are in business together, and your name does not come into the agreement. If I order that one of your sheds is to be made habitable for Neville, it is to be done, and he is to live there. It is understood?"
Vexation had risen so precipitately to her throat that she had to swallow hard in order not to make a choking sound. With an air of nonchalance she was far from feeling, she said, "You don't have to bark; I'm not hard of hearing. What do I do? Turn him away when he arrives on Thursday?"
"No. If as you say, the log walls are not weatherproof, I will send over two boys and some sheets of boarding of a type we are using for partitioning in our own settlement. Neville may sleep at your house till the shed is converted."
"I'm sure he'll be very grateful," she said drily.
There was a brittle silence between them. Muted came the blare of the accordion mingled with many voices. For some reason they were singing "Annie Laurie" with comic pathos; at least, it was comic in the distance. Lesley knew an absurd desire to laugh hysterically and to try the high notes; she was suddenly strung-up. But Fernando appeared quite unconscious of the singing. He was leaning forward with his arms along his knees. And when he spoke he seemed to have forgotten that her last words had been tinged with acid. "The nights here are good, not unlike the nights in San Feliz. Often when I am alone I take a walk before bed. The air at the Falls is unbelievably clear and invigorating at midnight, a compensation for the steamy mornings."
"Where were you before you came to Kalindi Falls?" she asked curiously.
"In the Western Congo." He gave a shrug and a brief laugh. "We were
deep in the jungle. In twenty months I saw only three women; two of
them were wives of Government officials, and the third was the sister of my assistant. She had fever and we sent her home."
"An English girl?"
"Yes, perhaps a year or two older than you. She was plucky and sweet."
Lesley knew an inexplicable thrust of—it couldn't be jealousy? She pulled herself up sharply. As if she cared whether he married or remained an arrogant bachelor! It was only that it was odd to discover that he had once been acquainted with a girl—an English girl—whom he had presumably liked and admired. Though she had known him only a short time, she had formed the habit of thinking of him as lone and aloof. Somehow it had helped to regard him as somewhat invulnerable where women were concerned. "Don't you ever hanker for a more social life?" she queried quickly.
"Yearning for something which is perhaps three years away is a waste of time. We have card-parties and picnics. We are friendly with the officials, and I know several people on this side of the river. In a few months I shall be moving on."
"And do you take the same staff with you?"
"Not all of them. Some are engaged only for the contract, and have wives to go home to."
"Don't you encourage the men to bring their wives?"
"No. Wherever we go the country is crude, and in the first stages we are troubled by big game. Women are too nervy, and I . . ." He shrugged. "I must confess I am impatient of nerves; there is too much to be done. Also, this pioneering of women in the jungle is something I cannot tolerate. I appreciate that English women have much freedom, but I cannot say I agree with the system!"
"It's easy to see why you are not married," she remarked.
"Yes?" He slewed round to give her a disconcertingly direct stare. "I wonder how near you have come to the truth? Tell me what you think."
It was confusing to be gazed at like that. In this light his eyes were black and unreadable, but she could see that his mouth mocked, and it rekindled within her the spark of animosity. "There are probably two reasons," she said unflinchingly. "The type of woman you'd want to marry wouldn't line up with your idea of the sort of woman you should marry, if you are to live in wild places."
"How true!" he said with satire. "And the second reason?"
"The woman's viewpoint., I don't think you'd understand it."
Apparently intent upon following the discussion to its end, he said, "You mean I am not romantic in your sense of the word? But how can you know?" He snapped his fingers in a totally foreign gesture, and smiled tantalisingly. "I have it! I have disappointed you. We are alone in the dark, and I should have taken advantage of the fact instead of commanding that you behave carefully with Neville Madison. Any one of those young fellows—" with an inclination of his head to indicate the other end of the garden—"would by now have you in his arms. He would kiss you and tell you he loved you, and tomorrow, if you should meet, you would agree
that it was a good party and go your ways, unremembering." Then startlingly, he added, "Would you like me to take you into my arms and kiss you?"
"Good heavens, no!" she exclaimed, and sprang to her feet as if poised for flight.
He laughed, his head thrown back as he stood above her. His throat was brown and strong, his laughter short but entirely spontaneous, and though she knew it was directed at her particular brand of innocence, she was not, this time, annoyed. In a way even she was glad, because one of the strands of the barrier between them had snapped, and she felt able to br
eathe more freely in his presence. But she was still not entirely at ease.
"Don't be frightened," he said, still smiling. "I am not given to philandering. In a country like this it could be too distracting." He took her elbow again, but more gently and companionably. "Let us go back to the party. I must leave soon."
THE spare room at the farm was a sparkling pale yellow when Neville Madison arrived at noon on Thursday. Lesley had given him her own
rug and dressing-chest, and when Solomon had put up the camp bed and brought in several other articles which Neville presumably found indispensable on tour, she supplied fresh linen and blankets, and shared the task of bed-making and rearranging the chest and folding chairs. Neville professed himself highly satisfied with the result.
"Mustn't get too cosy, though," he said with his attractive grin. "Fernando considers it thoughtless of me to accept your hospitality. He says you've been working much too hard for two years and need a rest. I did remind him that a new friend about the place might be a good form of relaxation for you, but he wasn't amused. Did he tell you he's going to have your sheds repaired?"
"Yes, he told me." Unwilling to discuss Fernando, she turned to practical details. "You can have breakfast at whatever time you like. We mostly have ours at about seven-thirty on the veranda. Lunch is at one and dinner at seven. There's generally a cup of tea going at eleven in the morning and four in the afternoon."
"I'll fit in. I'm the most accommodating chap in the world. I shan't have much work to do till we get some men and the drill. Do you own a spare horse?"
"We've only two hacks, but I dare say you Can borrow my father's. They're dears, but unexciting."
"Which is what you aim to be yourself, isn't it?" he said whimsically. "To have lasted two years here without acquiring even an engagement-ring you must have lethal tactics."
She laughed. "I really haven't had time for love affairs."
"Well, you're free now! Let's go riding into the sunset this evening and see what happens!"