by Anne Mather
‘Thank you.’
Fernando hesitated. ‘We are going to the bullfight. You would not enjoy the spectacle.’
‘Are you asking me or telling me?’ she inquired, defiance in her eyes.
Fernando’s fists clenched. ‘Until this evening, señorita,’ he stated formally, and walked away down the corridor without looking back.
Susannah turned towards the stairs, but as she did so she realized that Marla was accompanying Fernando and his aunt to the bullfight. She felt slightly sick. If it was not a spectacle for her, how could he consider taking a child to see it? By the time she reached her room, however, these thoughts had been superseded by other anxieties. She had had no right to speak to Fernando as she had. He had not invited her to come to the Casa d’Alvarez, and their situations here were vastly different from in England even without the added complication of his marriage. Besides, she should have known better, she who had always prided herself on not getting involved.
Dinner was served in her room at eight-thirty, and by nine-thirty she was a mass of nerves. She had known this would happen, of course. That was why she had gone to see Fernando earlier on the spur of the moment before she had had a chance to have second thoughts. Now she had them in plenty, and a worrying sense of inadequacy.
She had changed out of the dress she had worn earlier into a long straight amber-patterned gown which was completely plain apart from the two slits at the sides. It fastened round her slim waist with a sash and drew attention to the curving line of her hips. She tied back her hair with a chiffon scarf, checked her make-up, and then descended the stairs to the lower corridor.
Fernando answered her tentative knock immediately, opening the study door himself, and standing back so that she could enter the room. He closed the door behind her and Susannah stood in the centre of the room feeling rather like a schoolgirl summoned to the headmaster’s study for some misdemeanour. But at least he was alone, of that she had assured herself in those first few seconds.
Fernando walked behind his desk as though deliberately placing a barrier between them, effectively signifying that this was no personal assignation. He gestured towards a chair opposite him. ‘Won’t you sit down, señorita?’
Susannah hesitated, and then went forward to sit where he had suggested, folding her hands in her lap. Fernando leant forward to extract a cheroot from the box on the desk and her eyes were drawn to the brown skin rising from the opened neck of his dark blue silk shirt. He, too, had changed from his previous attire and now a wine red velvet jacket clothed his broad shoulders. He had a sombre arrogance and she marvelled at her own temerity in coming here. How could she have imagined that things remained the same? That people didn’t change? But even so, she could never have been expected to appreciate the whole circumstances of this affair.
Fernando lit the cheroot to his satisfaction and then seated himself in the black leather swivel chair at his side of the desk. ‘Now, señorita,’ he began, with all the cool assurance of his breeding, ‘why did you wish to see me?’
Susannah looked down at her hands. So the charade was to go on. If she let it…
She looked up., ‘I wanted to speak to you about Marla, señor.’
‘Yes?’
He was superbly confident, and she wondered if the decanter of brandy at his elbow had anything to do with it.
‘Yes,’ she said now, forcing herself to speak as coolly as he did. ‘Our—that is, the arrangement for Marla’s tuition is not very satisfactory, señor.’
‘No?’ He frowned through a veil of tobacco smoke. ‘Why not? I understand it works very well.’
‘And from whom do you understand that?’ she asked shortly, forgetting for a moment to say señor.
Fernando’s dark brows drew more closely together. ‘My aunt keeps me informed of your progress, señorita.’
‘Yes, I thought she might.’ Susannah’s nails dug into her palms. ‘However, I disagree.’
‘With what? Her reports on your progress?’
Susannah swallowed the ready retort that sprang to her lips. ‘No,’ she denied carefully, ‘I disagree that the arrangement works well, señor.’
Fernando’s nostrils flared. ‘I see.’ He paused. ‘And of course you can elaborate on that.’
‘Of course.’
‘Then go ahead.’
‘Marla spends too much time in the company of—of Señora d’Alvarez—your aunt.’
‘What has that to do with the unsatisfactory arrangements for her tuition, señorita?’
Susannah sighed. ‘You’re deliberately misunderstanding me, señor.’
‘Am I?’
‘You know you are!’
Susannah felt frustrated. She was trembling and she took several deep breaths, trying to calm herself. This would never do. She would get nowhere if she didn’t argue coolly and sensibly, and not allow him to disconcert her.
Pressing her moist palms down upon her knees, she went on quietly: ‘Marla and I are only permitted to see each other in the mornings, señor. At twelve o’clock we are expected to join your aunt for chocolate, and after that…’ she spread her hands. ‘I’m expendable.’
Fernando rested his elbow on the desk and regarded her closely. ‘And are you not perhaps confusing your own boredom with the quality of Marla’s education—’
‘No!’ Susannah clenched her fists, ‘No, I’m not. There’s more to being a governess than sitting in a schoolroom giving lessons. Marla and I should have some free time together. We could go to the coast. Swim! Play tennis! Mix with other people!’
The heavy lids with their thick lashes veiled his gaze. ‘Marla is no different from any other girl of her age and background.’
‘In Spain, I suppose you mean.’
‘ Naturalmente, señorita. ’
Susannah sighed. ‘Well, I think it’s unnatural! The clothes she wears! The hours she spends just sitting and listening to Señora d’Alvarez talking about the past! It’s unhealthy!’
‘Señorita, you forget yourself!’
He was angry now, but Susannah didn’t care. How could anyone be so blind? Marla was being stifled in this atmosphere. She was already half-way to becoming a facsimile of her great-aunt.
‘Don’t you think, remembering your own childhood, that Marla should be allowed a little more freedom?’ she exclaimed urgently. ‘You said yourself—’
‘Basta!’ Fernando’s fist came down hard on the desk and he rose to his feet. ‘We are not concerned with me, señorita, only with Marla. What would you have me say? That she should run free with you like some charity child?’
Susannah uttered a strangled gasp at the callousness of his words, and suddenly he seemed to realize exactly what he had said.
‘Por dios, Susannah,’ he muttered, ‘I did not mean that!’
Susannah rose to her feet and grasping the back of her chair dragged herself behind it, supporting herself as she faced him.
‘I don’t think there is anything more to be said, señor,’ she managed chokingly. ‘It’s obvious the opinion you have of me. Very well, I’ll make no more pleas on Marla’s behalf. I can even appreciate why she makes no attempt to plead with you herself.’
‘Susannah!’ A pulse was throbbing noticeably near his jawline. ‘Susannah, you do not understand—’
‘No, I don’t. I don’t understand how you can say the things you do, feel the way you do, and yet still persist in keeping me here until your wife returns? What is it? Some sort of perverted justice?’
She stared at him bitterly for a long time and finally his eyes fell before hers. He stubbed his cheroot out savagely in the onyx ashtray, and said: ‘You should not have come here, Susannah.’
She gestured impotently. ‘Do you think I don’t know that?’
‘Then why did you?’ He looked at her again, his eyes mirroring a little of the anguish of mind he was experiencing.
She moved her shoulders helplessly. ‘I’ve asked myself that several times.’
Fern
ando flexed his shoulder muscles wearily. ‘Dios, you must have known we were bound to meet! What good has it done? Could you not have accepted that when I left England, what had been between us was over—irrevocably.’
Susannah’s fingers probed the fine veneer of wood on the back of the chair. ‘Do you imagine I would have come here if I had known you were Monica’s husband?’ she exclaimed painfully. ‘How could I connect Fernando Cuevas with Don Fernando d’Alvarez?’
‘Did it matter whose husband I was? I was married. Was that not enough?’ he demanded.
Susannah’s lips parted in dismay. ‘Do you think I knew that?’
Perplexity clouded his eyes. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Dear heaven, Fernando, I didn’t know you were married! Do you imagine I would have agreed to—to our spending a weekend together if I had thought—’ She broke off, pressing a hand to her throat. ‘Oh, God! What kind of a woman do you think I am?’
She stumbled towards the door, but his voice halted her.
‘Am I expected to believe that you didn’t know?’
She turned, holding her head erect. ‘I don’t actually care what you believe, señor,’ she stated tremulously. ‘And as I already know how you think of me, what you think of me doesn’t seem very important!’
‘Susannah!’ His harsh tones could still generate a devastating current of awareness along her veins. ‘You worked for the Castanas. Do you really mean to tell me that Lucie never regaled you with my history?’
‘Why should she?’ Susannah’s knees felt disturbingly unsteady. ‘You were never a subject for discussion between Señora Castana and myself. I am sorry to disappoint you—’
‘Be silent!’ He came round the desk, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. ‘Surely you must have known…’
‘Why? How? How could I? You didn’t say anything! You seldom spoke about yourself at all. And I thought you were merely reticent. How wrong you can be!’
Fernando moved his head disbelievingly from side to side. ‘But my letter—the letter I left behind—’
‘What of it?’ Susannah’s voice almost broke then. ‘I cherished that letter. I foolishly imagined that because you thought you were too old for me…’ She broke off, gathering her composure. ‘Well, anyway, I obviously read more into it than was intended.’ She reached for the door handle. ‘Can I go now?’
Fernando took another step towards her, but then a kind of iron self-control hardened his mouth and he halted abruptly. He stood for a moment just looking at her, and then, drawing a deep breath, he said: ‘I find your explanation—difficult to believe, and yet…’ He shook his head. ‘I must reconsider. The situation calls for it.’ He tugged absently at the hair at the nape of his neck. ‘You wished to leave, did you not? I will make the necessary arrangements at once.’
Susannah couldn’t believe her ears. ‘You’re dismissing me?’
‘Is that not what you wanted?’
‘Yes—no—that is—’ Susannah put a bewildered hand to her head. ‘I—I can’t go now. At least, I’ll stay a little longer. For Marla’s sake.’
His scowl returned. ‘Why? You said yourself that the arrangements were not to your liking.’
‘No. But they could be. Don’t you see?’ She moved her arms desperately. ‘Fernando, I’m not a puppet to be manipulated at will. I came here to do a job, and I should like the chance to do it. Give me a chance! Besides, what will Marla think if I suddenly depart?’
‘Marla will accept what I tell her.’
‘Oh, yes, of course she will. I’d forgotten the more ridiculous aspects of the situation. Marla will do exactly as you tell her, won’t she? Poor misguided creature!’
‘Have a care, Susannah!’
His jaw was taut, and she felt an unexpected quiver of anticipation run through her. Suddenly their situations were reversed and she had only just realized it.
Linking her fingers together, she said: ‘If you love your daughter, you must know she’s not happy.’
He gestured impatiently. ‘How can you say that? Has she said so?’
Susannah moved her shoulders. ‘No. She’s too—subdued to say a thing like that. And that in itself should be proof enough. Dear heaven, why do you spend so little time with her? Leaving her constantly to the care of an unsympathetic old woman—’
‘You overreach yourself, señorita,’ he snapped coldly. ‘None of this concerns you!’
‘I disagree.’ Susannah held up her head. ‘When I came here—before you forced me into a position of becoming involved with Marla—your affairs meant nothing to me. Now they do. Now I’ve got to know Marla, to like her, to realize that she’s being stifled in this cloying atmosphere—’
‘That is enough!’
‘No, it’s not.’ Susannah was becoming more and more reckless. ‘You made me stay here. You created this situation. Now you’ll have to face the consequences. What are you afraid of? That Marla will let the Alvarez family down? Or that she’ll exhibit a little of the spirit you always used to have—’
Fernando crossed the space between them in two strides, his face twisted with rage. ‘Do not dare to stand there and say such things to me!’ he ground out furiously. ‘What right have you to stand in judgment on things of which you know nothing?’
He glared down at her, and for a moment she thought he was about to strike her. But then he turned away, breathing heavily.
‘This conversation is getting us nowhere, señorita,’ he said, through clenched teeth. ‘You will please to go to your room and pack your belongings. I will have Morales drive you to Seville in the morning. It should not be too difficult for you to get a flight back to England. I will see that you are generously reimbursed for your trouble!’
‘No!’ Susannah stared at him desperately. ‘Fernando, I won’t go back to England. All right, I accept that our relationship is over, but at least let me try to help your daughter. Give me a chance to show you how happy Marla could be.’
‘It is impossible!’ His tone was harsh.
‘Why? Why is it?’ Susannah felt like shaking him. ‘If—if Marla’s mother was here she would agree with me!’
Fernando turned to face her. ‘Oh, yes, I am sure,’ he nodded bitterly. ‘But perhaps you should ask her why she spends so little time with the girl. If she is so concerned for Marla’s welfare, why does she disappear for weeks on end without word?’
Susannah bent her head. ‘That’s nothing to do with me.’
‘I agree. None of this is anything to do with you. So go!’
‘And what will you tell your wife when she eventually does come back? That you found my services unsatisfactory? Or that as I had known you in London, I was becoming an embarrassment to you?’
Fernando’s face grew even grimmer. ‘What are you saying now? That if I do not accede to your demands you will tell my wife of our association?’
Susannah gasped. That he should think such a thing of her! She stared at him for several agonized seconds and then she realized that he did not really think that at all. He was simply saying it to put her on the defensive, to achieve what plain speaking had not been able to achieve. But there were possibilities which even she had not considered until now.
Taking a deep breath, she said: ‘Would you call that bargaining power, Fernando?’
His fists clenched. ‘You would use it!’
Susannah shrugged. ‘Give me two weeks with Marla. Two weeks of freedom. Not from lessons—they’d continue as usual. But allow us some time to get away from the casa.’
‘And if—Monica returns in the meantime?’
Susannah bent her head. It would not be easy. Her impulsiveness had not considered the possibility of Monica’s return. For some reason she had expected her to be away.
But Fernando was awaiting her answer, and she could not let him see how deeply she was disturbed by him even now.
‘You can say you’re employing me for a—probationary period,’ she ventured at last.
He
made a disgusted sound. ‘You realize I can report this conversation to the policia, do you not? I believe it is known as—blackmail!’
Susannah winced. ‘Do not be so dramatic, Fernando. What am I asking, after all? Two weeks—out of a lifetime of years!’
There was silence for a few minutes and then he turned and walked back to his desk. She saw with a sense of contrition that there was a curiously defeated air about him, and she longed to go to him and comfort him and show him how much she loved him still.
But she could not. She no longer believed the things he had told her in London. It had been expedient to tell her he loved her, but it had almost ruined her life, and she was being incredibly foolish even staying here and risking further humiliation. But Marla was his daughter, and Susannah’s compassion for her outweighed her own anxieties.
‘Very well, señorita,’ he said heavily, taking another cheroot from the box. ‘You may stay.’
‘And the arrangements?’
‘I will permit Morales to drive you where you want to go, señorita. But you are not to leave the car except in his company, and if you disobey these instructions Morales will report to me.’
Susannah sighed. She had won. But what a hollow victory!
CHAPTER TEN
THE following morning, Marla was astonished when Susannah told her that after her siesta that afternoon they were going out.
‘But where are we going, Miss King?’ she asked in surprise. ‘Tia Amalia expects me to take tea with her on the patio at four o’clock.’
Susannah forced a smile. ‘I know. But your father has given us permission to go for a drive with Morales. Doesn’t the idea appeal to you?’
Marla was clearly fighting with her loyalties. ‘Of course, I should enjoy going for a drive, Miss King, but Tia Amalia may not wish to do so.’
‘Tia Amalia!’ Susannah caught back the retort that came to her lips. ‘Marla, there is just to be—the two of us. Not Tia Amalia as well.’
Marla looked, if anything, even more astounded. ‘We are to go out alone, Miss King?’
‘Well, if you can call going with Morales alone, I suppose so.’