Beloved Tyrant

by Violet Winspear

  “It has to be, Glenda.” There was a leashed quality to his words. “At the end of things I believe I want to be able to say that I have lived completely because I have loved utterly. In short, I want the heaven and the hell of it.”

  “My dear man, I could surely give you both,” Glenda murmured, but the words carried to Lyn, who now sat holding a cushion against her as though to shield herself from the things she was hearing.

  “Sex, Glenda?” he asked, almost wearily. “The false pearl that is sold so cheaply in the market?”

  “There’s nothing false about me, Rick.”

  “No,” he agreed, "not to the outward eye.”

  “You - you brute!” It was an echo of Lyn’s accusation. “You don’t spare a woman, do you?”

  “I’ve spared you another unhappy marriage,” he rejoined.

  “Thanks.” Her laughter was brittle. “For nothing!”

  High heels made their way to the door, it opened and the footsteps faded away across the hall. There was a long silence in which Lyn prayed for him to go as well. He mustn’t find her ... he must never know that she had overheard so intimate a conversation ... her relief was acute when his heavier tread made its way to the door. A second later the door closed behind him, and Lyn sank back against the couch, giving him time to be out of sight before she hurried from this room which still seemed to reverberate with the tensions of the past fifteen minutes.

  It was in the middle of the night when Lyn woke suddenly from her dream-haunted sleep. A scream of terror had pulsed through the hacienda, and Lyn’s hand was shaking as she snapped on her bedside lamp. She fought free of tangled bedcovers, scrambled into her slippers and robe, and emerged on to the gallery as two other doors flew open.

  “I heard a scream!” Rosa looked tousled and anxious.

  “I think it was Concetta.” Rick strode past the two girls, making rapidly for the suite at the far end of the gallery. Rosa and Lyn sped in his wake. He flung wide the door of Concetta’s room, and Lyn heard him exclaim: “My dear fellow, what has happened?”

  Julio sat with a pallid face on the foot of his wife’s bed. Concetta, her dark hair streaming loose, was holding his left hand to her breast as if to ease it.

  “Julio has been bitten by a snake.” Her dark eyes dwelt with agony on Rick’s face. “I was unable to sleep. I switched on my lamp and right away I saw the snake gliding across from the veranda. I screamed. Julio came running in and, O, Madre, it struck him! A marked snake, Rick. Venomous!”

  “My dear,” Julio’s smile was achingly tender, though deep lines etched the sides of his eyes, “you must not be so upset.”

  Concetta’s face was contorted as she murmured his name and carried his snake-bitten hand to her lips. Lyn went cold with emotion at the look that appeared on Julio’s face. Gone was his cold austerity ... it was as if he came fully alive to love again in this moment when he carried the chance of death in his veins.

  “Get on the phone to the bunkhouse, they will have some serum over there,” Rick rapped at his sister. “Afterwards call Dr. Judson.” Then his glance flashed to Lyn. “You go along to the child, Lynette. She may have been aroused by her mother’s scream and will need you.”

  Lyn turned at once to obey him, almost running into Dona Estella, who stood in the doorway, a ringed hand grasping the edges of her robe, her eyes fixed upon Julio.

  “You must not worry, Aunt,” Julio said to her. “There is serum, and Rick knows how to administer it.”

  “The doctor must be summoned,” she shrilled.

  “Rosa will see to that.”

  “It will kill me if anything happens to you, Julio. You are like my very own son—”

  “Aunt Estella, please don’t become hysterical,” Concetta pleaded.

  “It should have happened to you!” The woman spat the words. “You inadequate creature, of no use to a real man!”

  The wounding words carried to Lyn, followed by fiery ones from Rick. “Were I my brother,” he thundered, “I would order you from this house!”

  “It is true what she says, Rick.” Concetta half-sobbed the words. “I wish I had been the one to be struck.”

  “Please leave us alone, Aunt.” Physical and mental pain sounded in Julio’s voice. “Concetta has been tortured enough by a reproach that now torments me. Go - please!”

  “Julio, you can’t order me to go!”

  “I can!”

  Lyn cast a wide-eyed glance over her shoulder and saw Dona Estella hustled from the bedroom by Rick. The door thudded shut, and Lyn almost ran into Leoni’s room. Thankfully the child had not stirred, and Lyn sank down into a chair and felt herself trembling all through her body. Outside in the corridor she heard footsteps passing back and forth, the sound of the foreman who had brought the serum, and other men who would hunt out the snake and dispose of it. Later came the boom of Dr. Judson’s voice, and Lyn prayed quietly to herself that he came in time and could save for Concetta the man who was plainly her very life.

  As dawn’s light began to seep into Leoni’s room, the door quietly opened and Rosa entered. “All’s well,” she breathed. “Poor Julio has had a bad time of it, but now he’s sleeping and is going to be fine.”

  “I’m so very glad,” said Lyn, thankfully. “And how’s Concetta?”

  “Dr. Judson insisted she have a sedative, otherwise she would still be sitting beside Julio, eating him, very nearly, with those enormous eyes of hers.” Rosa yawned and stretched her arms. “ ‘What concentrated joy, or woe, in blest or blighted love,’ ” she quoted. “Shall we go downstairs and see if there’s any coffee to be had?”

  “Sounds the perfect idea,” Lyn agreed, and after glancing at Leoni to make sure she was still fast asleep, Lyn went down with Rosa to the lounge. Rick was there, clad in a black sweater over his slacks, his black hair ruffled above the brilliant energy of his eyes. “Hullo, you two, you are just in time for some hot strong coffee.”

  “What a night it’s been, Rick!” Rosa sank into a chair with her cup of coffee, to which he had added brandy and lots of cream. Though his own cup was black, almost, as the strand of hair across his forehead.

  He smiled and lounged against the mantelpiece. “You will miss the fury and the fun of life among the Corderas when you leave us, Lynette,” he said.

  “So you know I’m going?” She buried her nose in her cup, needing to avoid his eyes upon her face.

  “Rosa told me. When exactly are you making the break?”

  “Rick, you make it sound as if Lyn is in jail and planning to escape,” Rosa said drily.

  “Do I?” His lips twitched.

  “My departure depends on how soon I can give your brother my notice,” said Lyn. “I shall have to wait until he’s quite well.”

  “Julio is tough, he will get well soon, and you have your own life to lead, Lynette.” Rick spoke firmly. “I am going to urge Julio strongly to allow Leoni to go to school at Amijo.”

  “What about the aunt?” Rosa asked. “I’m sure her main objection to the idea is that she doesn’t want Leoni to mix with the local children.”

  Rick’s face hardened at the mention of Dona Estella. “I think Julio saw for himself last night that she can no longer stay here. She is jealous of Concetta and she talks against her. Strange that the bite of one serpent should have driven out the venom of another.”

  “I pity her in a way,” Rosa sighed. “She really thinks the world of Julio.”

  “She has encouraged him to behave like some lord who must have a son,” Rick said crisply. “He should thank heaven Concetta still loves him after the way he has treated her. Do you know what she told me last night? She said she would divorce him, though she loves him, so that he might have a son by another wife. Dios, that is love! And now I hope he realizes what he almost lost.”

  Restless, somehow leashed, Rick stirred and wandered to a window. He stared out at the brightening day, then suddenly he swung to face Lyn, his eyes brilliant as sapphires in his dark face.
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br />   “You must allow me to give you a farewell dinner before you leave Monterey,” he said.

  “Let’s make it a foursome?” Rosa suggested. “I’ll bring Cort.”

  “Will you agree,” Rick’s eyes sparked their blue fires at Lyn, “now you have a pair of guardian angels?”

  “You seem to be threatening the poor girl instead of inviting her out to dinner,” Rosa laughed. “I’d refuse you, you tyrant, if you spoke like that to me.”

  “Do you think me a tyrant?” he asked Lyn.

  An uncontrollable smile shook her mouth, and she had only one answer to give him. “Yes, Rick.”

  Dr. Judson returned to the hacienda that afternoon to check on Julio, and Lyn was in the ball removing some drooping flowers when he came downstairs with Concetta. Lyn was amazed and delighted by the change in her. She wore a most attractive dress, and a smile played over the delicate symmetry of her features.

  The doctor greeted Lyn, chatted a few minutes, then left to make a call on another patient. Concetta tucked an arm through Lyn’s and they went out to the sunlit patio, and it was there that Lyn told her she was leaving.

  “How much we shall miss you, my dear.” Concetta looked a little sad for a moment. “You have been so good for Leoni.”

  “Thank you.” Lyn smiled, for right now Leoni would be enjoying a ride on one of Cort’s ponies. Rosa had taken her to the ranch for the afternoon.

  “When do you wish to go?” Concetta asked.

  “May I go on Monday?”

  “So soon?”

  Lyn’s smile was quavery. “It will be better if I go quickly.”

  “You plan to return to your former work?”

  “Yes - I think so.”

  Concetta plucked a rose and stroked it against her cheek. “Lyn, do you recall the evening we spoke together down at Spanish Cove?”

  “Yes, I remember.”

  “I wanted to die, you know. I thought I was losing Julio’s love, and I was out of my mind with misery. A woman is a dead thing without love - she needs it as this rose in my hand needs the sun. There was no sun for me when I thought Julio no longer cared for me - you see, Lyn, my fall downstairs was no accident. I felt a hand push me - I thought that hand was my husband’s.”

  Lyn caught her breath, then she said quietly, “There was another person here at the hacienda the afternoon of your fall, Concetta. Your aunt was here!”

  “Yes. Oh, it’s all right!” Concetta smiled and squeezed Lyn’s hands. “I am no longer in danger from her. Last night I broke down and cried in Rick’s arms. I told him my fears, and he guessed who had hurt me. He decided that Dona Estella should leave.”

  “I saw him driving off with someone—”

  “He has taken her to the station. She has money of her own and I don’t think she will trouble us again. Rick was quite prepared, you see, to tell Julio everything if she refused to leave, and she loves Julio. She wouldn’t want him to know that she was ready to kill me for his sake.”

  Suddenly the eyes looking at Lyn were ablaze with happiness. “There is nothing more wonderful than to be utterly certain again that you have love in your life. Lyn, you too must - find a man to make you happy. A career is not enough - it does not fully compensate.”

  “I know,” said Lyn, and when Concetta returned to her husband’s side, she had a sudden longing to walk to the places she had come to love, and to say a quiet goodbye to them. Cypress Ridge looked a little lonely, and she went down the cliff steps to the cove, where the pale sands sloped to the sea. For a long moment she stood at the edge of the sands and gazed to where the horizon dropped a silver shield across the pacific blue. A sudden unspeakable pain gripped her by the throat. She had grown to love this place ... and the people who belonged to it.

  Something, then, made her turn from the sea. A tall, wide-shouldered figure walked round from the twin cove, and for at least a minute only the gulls and the sea and Lyn’s heart had movement. Then Rick began to cross the beach towards her.

  His black hair had a raven glint under the sun, and he wore a slash-throated shirt tucked into narrow black trousers ... a gaucho ... a corsair ... always she would think of him like that.

  “Are you bidding goodbye to Spanish Cove?” he asked.

  “Yes.” Her eyes were dark in the sudden pallor of her face.

  “You have grown fond of Monterey, eh? I hope when you are back in England you will remember us, now and again.”

  “I’m sure I shall.”

  “I shall think of you, Lynette, when I paint in the garden of my house in Andalucia. When I wander alone through the Spanish twilight. When I ride to a chapel garden to listen to the bells.”

  A sob arose, broke past the barrier of pain about her throat, and escaped from her lips. “P-please leave me alone, senor.” She turned aside so that he couldn’t see the tears in her eyes. “I am going to make a fool of myself.”

  “I’ll leave you alone - if that is what you really want.” He spoke almost harshly. “But be very sure, Lynette, because when I walk up those cliff steps, I walk out of your life.”

  Her eyes found his face, and she saw through her tears that it was curiously drawn. Then he began to move away from her. His sandals churned the sand, and her throat was locked, though his name clamoured there. She was blind to the reason for an eternity of seconds ... he was close to the steps, about to mount them when his name broke free.

  “Rick!”

  She stumbled towards him. His arms closed hard, warm and bruising about her slenderness. Again his name broke from her as his mouth came down on hers, thrilling her, ravishing her, demanding that she give her heart.

  It was given, and her mouth was soft with surrender beneath his, and it was peace, heaven, joy beyond expression to let herself be lost in his arms at last.

  “My little love.” He cradled her face in his hands, and love was a kind of lambency in his eyes, playing over them like a soft fire. “My love, but so maddening at times. Dios, you will never know what a hell-fire torment it has been, thinking myself unwanted by you. Each moment with you was to be in heaven tormented, do you know that?”

  “You bullied me unmercifully,” she smiled. “How could I guess that you - loved me?”

  “I’m a proud man, and that you must know. I wasn’t going to risk revealing the state of my heart while I remained so unsure of yours. I could never be certain whether you truly disliked me, or whether your coolness was a retreat from being hurt again by loving a man.” He gazed down at her and his eyes blazed blue flame. “There were times when you seemed to hate me!”

  “Because my heart was fighting you.” She touched his warm, hard cheek, and he took her hand and turned it to that flame that was his mouth. He gave her the smile of a lover even as a devil lurked in his eyes.

  “What gambles I took when I told you to leave the hacienda - but I knew you were comparing me to a dead man, seeing faults he did not have. Seeing a Latin face instead of a Saxon one. Seeing pride and passion instead of kindness and tolerance—”

  “Oh, Rick.” She pressed her face against him. “David was a good man, and I thought it wrong that I should learn to love again.”

  “Love me completely, chiquita,” Rick warned. “I’m a possessive man and I shall want you always as I want you now, with a heart on fire.”

  Lyn could feel his heart beating close and hard against her, and she felt love for him burst into flame in her own heart. A different kind of love from that other, for she had gone through the mill of sorrow and emerged a woman rather than a starry-eyed girl. Rick wanted a woman, warm-hearted, and with courage, such as she had displayed on the night they had almost died together.

  With shyness and with ecstasy she buried her face against his heart. “What is it?” His voice, teased and caressed her. "Why do you hide your eyes from me?”

  “Because you make me shy, I think.”

  “Good, I like that.” He laughed softly. “It appeals to my Latin nature.”

  “Rick, you are a t
yrant!”

  “But you love me.”

  “Rick—” Now she looked at him. “If I hadn’t come down here to the cove this afternoon we might never have said all this to each other. We might have parted—”

  “Little one, I naturally meant to force the issue before you went away.” He drew his hands down her soft hair. “So pretty, with eyes into which a man might lose his heart and not find it again. Lynette, I shall love you all my life and beyond it, for that too is in my nature.” Then his eyes grew a little wicked. “Are you not going to ask me about Glenda? I know you thought I cared for her.”

  Lyn thought of the conversation she had overheard, but she chose not to speak of it. “I believe I knew differently when you called her painting a resort poster,” she said. “You can be cruelly honest, Rick.”

  “I can also be kind, my dearest. You must believe that.”

  “I believe it, darling.” She met his eyes, saw their homage, savage and sweeping, and was in heaven from such a look. There was just one more thing she longed to know. “Rick—?”

  “Yes, little honey-throat?” His warm lips were buried against the curve of her soft neck.

  “Oh - it doesn’t matter.” She smiled as he took her lips. Her last and final question was answered.