“Darling Cat and Honey,” she would say. There would be tears in her eyes. How lonely she must be without us.
He said: “Of what are you thinking?”
“Of my mother. She will be sad thinking of me and my sister. Both of us to have been snatched away. What a tragedy for her and there have been so many tragedies in her life.”
I was silent and then he said: “You are smiling now.”
“I am thinking of our going back. She will love Roberto, her grandson. Dearly she loves children. I think I inherited that from her. And Carlos shall not be forgotten! I shall say, ‘Mother, this is my adopted son as Honey was your adopted daughter. He belongs with us now.’ We shall be happy again.”
His face was impassive and I went on: “Roberto is one year old. He is old enough to travel. Now you must keep your promise. It is time for us to go back.”
He shook his head. “You cannot take the child,” he said.
“Not take my son!”
“He is my son too.”
“Your son. What is he to you?”
“He is my son.”
“But this child is part of me. He is my own. I would never give him up.”
“He is part of me. Nor shall I give him up.” He smiled at me gently. “How your eyes blaze! There is an alternative. I would not rob a mother of her child, and as I will not give up my son, if you will keep him you must stay here.”
I was silent. Then I said: “Always you have led me to understand that you wished me no ill.”
“Nor do I.”
“You have told me that it is only because of a vow you made that I am here. You led me to believe that when you had fulfilled that vow I should be at liberty to go.”
“You are at liberty … but not to take the child with you.”
I stood up. I wanted to get away to think. He was at the door before me, barring it.
“You will never leave your child,” he said. “Why not accept what cannot be avoided? You can be happy here. What is it you want? Ask me and it shall be yours.”
“I want to go home, to England.”
“Ask anything but that.”
“It is what I want.”
“Then go.”
“And leave my child behind?”
“He shall lack nothing. He is my son.”
“I believe you are glad that he is born.”
“I was never more pleased with anything.”
“You could have been had he been born of Isabella.”
“He would not have been Roberto. He has something of you in him.”
“And that pleases you?”
“It pleases me, for if you ever went away there would be something to remind me.”
“And you wish to be reminded?”
“I do not need the reminder. I shall never forget.”
Then he drew me to him and held me against him.
“I would,” he said, “that we could have more sons like this one.”
“How could that be?”
“It is not beyond your power to understand.”
“You have a wife. Have you forgotten?”
“How could I forget?”
I said: “You never see her.”
“She screams at the sight of me.”
“She could be cured.”
“She can never be cured.”
“You loved her once.”
“I have loved one woman,” he said. “I still love her. I shall do so to the end of my life.” He looked steadily at me.
“You cannot tell me that you feel love for me, your victim? You hated coming to me as much as I hated it. You had to pretend I was Isabella. You had to remind yourself constantly of your vow.”
He took my hands and held first one to his lips and then the other.
“If you loved me,” I said, “you would wish to please me. You would let me go.”
“Ask anything but that,” he said.
I felt exultant. It was a victory. Fate had turned the tables. He was at my mercy now, not I at his.
“Tell me,” he went on, “that you do not harbor resentment against me. Tell me that you do not hate me.”
“No,” I said, “I don’t hate you. In a way I’m fond of you. You have been kind to me … apart from your violation of me, and that I will admit was conducted in a courteous manner … if one can imagine rape so being. You have tried to save me from the evil laws of your country. But you do not love me well enough to make me happy, which you would do by letting us go.”
“You ask too much,” he said. “It will be different now. You do not hate me. Could you grow fond of me?”
I said: “You cannot offer me marriage, Don Felipe, which could be the only gateway to the path you suggest.”
“Tell me this,” he said, “if I could…”
“But, Don Felipe, you cannot. You have a wife. I know she is mad and no wife to you and that is a grievous state of affairs. I know that Jake Pennlyon was in part responsible. But was he entirely so? How mad was Isabella before she came here? Let me go now. I want to think of what you have said.”
He stood back, but he still held my hands; then he kissed them with a passion unfamiliar to him. I withdrew them and with a wildly beating heart went to my room and shut myself in to think of this revelation.
Don Felipe left next morning. I had spent a disturbed night. That I could consider the possibility of marriage with him seemed absurd. Yet it was not so. He was the father of my beloved child and the child was a bond between us. Roberto was already beginning to show an awareness of him and Don Felipe was always gentle and tender toward him.
It’s ridiculous, I said; but I had to confess that I was intrigued by the situation.
I was a little disappointed to learn that he had left the Hacienda. I was restless and wanted to know more about his feelings for Isabella.
That afternoon, when most people were indulging in the siesta, I left Jennet in charge of the children and wandered off in the direction of Isabella’s house.
The sun was warm; everything seemed sleeping behind the wrought-iron gate; and as I stood there the subject of my thoughts appeared in the doorway. She was carrying the doll I had seen before and as she walked across the patio she saw me. She hesitated. I smiled and she came toward me, murmuring a greeting. I knew enough Spanish now to be able to converse a little, so I replied. She stood looking at me, which gave me an opportunity to study her features. If beauty is perfection of feature, then she was indeed beautiful. Her face was without blemish and without expression; this was indeed a beautiful shell; there was no intellect to give character to the face.
She held out the doll to me. I smiled and she smiled too. Then she opened the gate and I went into the patio.
I had not been there since that day when I had taken Carlos away. She took my hand confidingly and led me to the seat. We sat down and she chattered about her doll. I gathered that she took the doll everywhere with her. She kept saying the word muñeca. Pilar made clothes for it which came on and off.
Then suddenly her face puckered; she showed me that the doll was wearing only one shoe.
“She has dropped it,” I said. “We’ll look.”
She nodded conspiratorially and I began to search the patio while she followed me around. I was delighted to find the shoe near the gate. She clapped her hands and we went back to the seat and put it on the doll.
Suddenly she stood up and, taking my hand, drew me toward the door and led me into the house. I noticed the faint perfume with which I had become familiar; it was dark inside, for the house, like the Hacienda, had been built to shut out the sun.
There was an imposing staircase leading from the hall with its blue mosaic floor. The banisters were exquisitely carved and the ceiling of this hall was painted with angels floating on clouds. It was more splendid than I had thought it would be.
Isabella, still holding my hand, took us into a room which led from this hall; it was dark as I had come to expect and there was in it a brooding sense of
mystery—or perhaps that was my mood.
Isabella indicated that I should sit down. Pilar appeared suddenly and hovered at the door. Isabella began to talk excitedly about the doll’s shoe which I had found and then she announced that she wanted to show me more of her dolls. I should come up and see.
“Bring them down, Isabella,” said Pilar.
Isabella pouted.
“Oh, yes, that is best,” said Pilar. “Come, we will go and get them.”
She took Isabella by the hand and I was left alone in the room. I looked about me at the rich draperies and the elegant Spanish furniture. This was his house, I thought, and she is his wife for all that she has the mind of a child.
It was a strange situation into which I had been thrust. I kept thinking of the passion in his eyes when he had said he would marry me. How could he while this childlike creature stood in his way?
The door opened suddenly and a young girl came in. She had dark hair and big dark eyes in an olive-colored heart-shaped face.
She said: “Señorita, forgive me.”
“Who are you?” I asked.
“I am Manuela and I work here. I wish to speak to you if I may, Señorita.”
“What is it you wish to say?”
“It is the boy … the little fellow.” Her face was illuminated by a pleasant smile. “Carlos.”
“Oh, yes.”
“I wanted to know. He is happy now?”
“He is happier than he has ever been.”
She smiled. “He is good boy,” she said. “What a boy. Maria was so cruel to him.”
“Maria? Is that the woman who lives here?” I waved my hand in the direction of the courtyard where I had first seen Carlos playing.
She nodded. “She was the boy’s foster mother. It was wrong. She is a stupid woman… She has no love for children though she has five of her own. The boy should not have been put with her. I used to speak to him.”
I warmed to her. She had been kind to Carlos; I could see by her face.
“You need no longer worry,” I told her. “I shall see that Carlos is well looked after.”
“I used to take him sweetmeats. Poor child, he had no love, and children need love as they need sweetmeats. Thank you for taking him away, Señorita.”
“You must come and see Carlos for yourself.”
“May I? You are good.”
I said: “What work do you do here?”
A faint frown appeared between her eyes. “I help in the boudoir. I am Doña Isabella’s maid.”
“You are not happy?”
“I love children, Señorita. Doña Isabella is a child in so many ways.”
“I see,” I said. She curtsied suddenly and hurried out. I wondered whether she had heard footsteps, for very shortly afterward the woman Pilar came in. Isabella was not with her.
“She is sleeping,” said Pilar. “You understand. When she reached her room she had forgotten you. It is thus sometimes.”
“Poor soul,” I said.
“Poor soul indeed.”
“Did I do wrong to speak to her?”
“She was happy to speak with you and you found the doll’s shoe, which pleased her. But she forgets from time to time.”
I said: “This did not happen overnight.”
She was silent for a while. Then she said: “She was always a little simple. She could not learn her lessons; it was not important with a lady of such high degree. She was destined to make a good marriage; her dowry was great; her family had connections with the royal house.”
“So her simplicity did not matter.”
“It was thought she would be a good wife … she would produce children and she was betrothed to Don Felipe. He is a nobleman of some wealth and he was high in favor at Court. It was a good match.”
“Even though she still played with her dolls.”
“She was a child. Fifteen. We used to say: Wait until she has a child of her own; then she will grow up.” Pilar’s eyes narrowed. “If I could lay my hands on her ravisher I would inflict on him such tortures that the world has never known. He has ruined this young life.”
“Was it not ruined before he came? From birth she was not as other children are.”
“She would have grown out of it; she would have had children.”
I was not convinced. I did not wish to defend Jake Pennlyon; he had wantonly satisfied his lust and this girl was the victim. But the blame for her plight did not lie solely with him, yet he had shocked her into some sort of awakening which was like a nightmare; he had crudely broken into her half-formed mind.
I said: “Would you prefer me not to come here?”
“No,” she said. “Come when you wish. You understand her. You do her good. You have taken the child. That is good. He is no longer a burden to us. I cannot understand how you persuaded Don Felipe to keep him at the Hacienda.”
She looked at me searchingly and I wondered how much she knew. Would she be aware that I had been brought here to satisfy Don Felipe’s lust for revenge?
As I went out I saw a man working in the gardens. He was very tall and broad for a Spaniard. He stood up and touched his cap when he saw me. Pilar led me to the gate.
“That was Edmundo,” she said. “He is strong and can help me if need be. He knows what to do if Isabella is ill. He can pick her up and carry her with the greatest ease.”
I said good-bye and told her I would come and see Isabella very soon.
I told Honey what had happened, but she did not yet know, of course, that Don Felipe had talked to me of marriage.
We thought it sad that Isabella had been simpleminded and that it was incongruous that she should have been given in marriage to such a fastidious and intellectual man as Don Felipe.
I told her about the girl Manuela who had asked after Carlos.
“She was rather wistful,” I said. “She must have been fond of him.”
“We could do with help in the nursery. Do you think she could come here?”
“I’m sure of it,” I said, certain that Don Felipe would not refuse me such a request.
We discussed Isabella’s preoccupation with her dolls and Honey suggested we make doll’s clothes and take them to her. We did this—making a gown from some pieces of velvet and a lovely ruff in stiff lace.
Isabella was delighted when we took them to the Casa Azul. That was a peaceful afternoon. We sat in the patio and she had two dolls which she proudly showed us. She cried out with delight when she tried on the velvet gown which fitted the doll perfectly.
Pilar brought out a mint drink and with it some little spiced cakes. Isabella laughed gaily and prattled as a child will about the doings of her dolls.
The fact that Isabella was made happy by our coming meant that Pilar welcomed us.
After that afternoon we frequently called. Isabella would be waiting for us in the patio. Now and then we saw the big Edmundo at work in the gardens keeping his eyes on Isabella. Manuela was there sometimes, which gave Honey an opportunity to assess her. She thought she would make an excellent addition to our nursery.
And so the days passed until Don Felipe came back to the Hacienda.
The day he returned he asked me to come to the escritorio. Our meetings always took place there. Other rooms would not have afforded us the secrecy we needed; and the apartment which had become mine held too many memories of our first encounters which I knew would have been distasteful to him.
As soon as I entered he came to me and took my hands in his and kissed them with fervor.
“There is much I have to say to you,” he said. “I have been turning over these things in my mind while I have been away. I must find some way of bringing about our union. If I do not my life is as wasteful as the desert. I know that you do not hate me, Catalina.” He said my name lingeringly, giving it a quality it had not had before. “You could bring yourself to marry me.”
“But there is no question of marriage. How could there be?”
He sighed. “I have debated th
e matter with myself. A dispensation from the Pope would be impossible, I fear. Yet I have no hope of legitimate sons if I do not remarry; I could give sons to the church, to my country. Isabella’s family is influential, more so than my own. A dispensation would never be granted.”
“Then it is useless to continue these suppositions.”
“There must be a way. There is always a way. I must tell you this—in a short time Don Luis Herrera will be arriving. He is going to take over the governorship from me, but not immediately. He will need a year, perhaps more, to learn what I have to teach him. These islands are of the utmost value to Spain; they are the gateway to the new world. We must hold them and we are continually assailed. Therefore, the new Governor must understand what is expected of him. In a year … two at most … I shall return to Madrid. Catalina, I am going to take you with me … as my wife.”
“Do Spanish Dons have two wives then?”
“She is not healthy, poor Isabella,” he said slowly. “These fits are becoming more frequent.”
“You are willing her to die.”
He was silent for a moment and then he said: “What can her life be? What has she?”
“She seems happy enough with her dolls.”
“Dolls—and she a grown woman!”
“She is not a woman. She is a child. You loved her once.”
He looked at me steadily. “I have loved but once, and I shall go on loving one woman to the end of my days.”
“Don Felipe!”
“Do not say Don Felipe. To you I am Felipe. Say it as though you are close to me. It would give me great pleasure to hear you.”
“When I say it I will say it naturally.”
“It will happen,” he said. “I know it.”
“So you never loved Isabella,” I insisted. “Tell me the truth.”
“It was a worthy match. Hers is one of the greatest families in Spain.”
“So it was for this reason only that you wished to marry her?”
“It is for such reason that marriages are arranged.”
“And when you came back and found her after Jake Pennlyon had been, you were mad with rage, not for love of this simpleminded child but because of the affront to your pride. This had happened to her when she was under your protection. That was why you vowed to be revenged.”
Lion Triumphant Page 23