'And you think Federico was unkind to you?'
Rosanne could not imagine why he needed to ask her that, for she had shown his own opinion quite clearly. 'Don't you?' she challenged, and for a moment a gleam of warmth showed again in his eyes.
'I thought so,' he allowed, 'but you obviously think of me as in the same category, so perhaps I am not a fit judge.'
'Jaime- '
He caught her eye at once when she raised her head, and she found it too hard to go. Taking her hand, he pressed his lips to the soft palm for a second, then smiled in that slow, enigmatic way he had, and inclined his head.
'I must go—there is much to be done before Catalina and my aunt come back tomorrow, and I cannot leave it all to Beatriz.' Strong fingers squeezed hers bruisingly hard for a second, then let them go. 'Adios, Rosanne.'
He knew she had been going to raise the matter of his ban on her visiting Beatriz and he had neatly sidestepped it before she realised what he was doing, but Rosanne found it hard to forgive him the evasion as she watched him get back into his car. A hand showed for a moment at the window before he drove off, and she acknowledged it automatically, but she was strangely unquiet as she made her way through the patio to the house. He might condemn Federico for his unkindness, but he was immovable in his own verdict.
It was a couple of days since Catalina Ostera returned from Paris with her mother, and any day now her engagement to Federico would be announced. As Rosanne looked at the calendar she mused on the prospect of having Federico for a husband. Undoubtedly he was charming and good-looking, wealthy too unless she was mistaken, and he had proved that when it came to the point he would behave himself. But for all that Rosanne thought in Catalina's place Islie would not have trusted him an inch out of her sight. Fortunately Catalina would never know anything of his brief association with Rosanne; Jaime would make quite sure of that.
Looking absently at her own reflection, Rosanne brushed the hair back from her neck, and had to admit that she regretted losing Federico's company. She hadn't known him anywhere near as well as she had got to know Pablo, but the brief interlude had been very pleasant and she knew of no one else at the moment who could take his place.
For a second or two her mind flew to Jaime Delguiro, but she shook her head to dismiss that idea. Jaime was unlikely to offer himself as a substitute, no matter what Marta's opinion, and she was not sure she could cope with such a man, even if he did. Undeniably attractive though he was, he would never be an easy man to know, and she felt herself far too independent by nature to be always subjugating her independence to that arrogant pride of his.
Lunch would be waiting for her downstairs, and she wondered as she made her way whether she should confide everything that had happened during the past- days to Marta while they ate their meal. Marta loved to gossip, but she was such a determined matchmaker that Rosanne hesitated to give her more ammunition. One thing she must tell her was that Federico was no longer eligible, but she was curiously reluctant to say anything at all about Jaime.
She had changed out of the dress she had worn in the morning because she found it too hot, and the light blue cotton one she had substituted drew an approving nod from Marta. 'Very pretty,' she remarked as they sat down at the table. 'Are you going out this afternoon, Rosanne?'
What she really meant was was she seeing Federico, Rosanne knew, and she saw this as an opportunity to put Marta in the picture as far as he was concerned at least. Taking an experimental mouthful of albondiga, she bit warily, for although she liked the tasty little meatballs, Marta's cook sometimes had a too generous hand with the mixture of spices that seasoned them. This time they were just right, and she nodded and smiled as she looked across at her friend.
'I thought I might write some letters home this afternoon,' she told her. 'It's ages since I wrote.'
'You are not seeing Federico Sanchez?'
She was so obviously disappointed that Rosanne could not help smiling. Perhaps she should have given Marta some inkling of the betrothal before, but somehow it had seemed such a personal thing to the parties concerned that she had hesitated to say anything to anyone else. Her own involvement had been only brief and very uncomplicated and it was now at an end, but with the engagement soon to be official there could be no harm done by telling her now.
'Actually I shan't be seeing Federico again, Marta. No, I mean it,' she added firmly when she saw Marta's knowing smile that suggested she saw it as nothing more than a lovers' quarrel. 'He's getting engaged to Jaime's—Don Jaime's cousin any day now.'
'Beatriz?' The sudden news had put the sister in Paris quite out of her mind for the moment and she stared.
'No, of course not—Catalina, her sister.' Rosanne speared another portion of albondiga and studied it on her fork for a second or two while she spoke. 'Didn't Beatriz say anything about her sister getting married, Marta?'
Marta looked vaguely uncertain for a moment, then shrugged. 'I do not remember—perhaps she did mention that her sister was to become betrothed, but we had so much to speak of, not seeing her for so long.' She looked across at Rosanne with a slightly anxious look in her eyes, as if she feared she might be taking it more badly than she showed at present. 'My poor friend, you are naturally sad to know this about Federico Sanchez, eh?'
'Not particularly.' It was much easier now to talk about it without experiencing that niggling sense of resentment. 'I hardly knew him, in fact, Marta.'
'And he did not say anything about his betrothal to Beatriz' sister?'
'Well, yes, I have to admit he did, but in such a way that I was easily misled by it.'
'But you like him, hah?'
'I like him well enough.' She could hardly deny it when it was perfectly true—she still liked Federico. 'I just wish he'd been more honest about Catalina Ostera, though, instead of leaving it to Jaime to spring on me after he'd given me a good dinner and lulled me into a sense of well-being.' She smiled ruefully. 'I suppose he was trying to soften the blow, although I wouldn't say that compassion is one of Jaime's strong points I'
'Jaime?'
Marta echoed the name just as Federico had done, and with much the same implications, she knew. With a sigh of resignation Rosanne realised she had fallen into the same trap again. She just did not remember to call him by his formal title.
'All right—Don Jaime. I'm not very good at remembering your formal Spanish manners, Marta, you know that.'
'Ah-huh!' Marta's bright eyes sparkled happily, and without looking at her Rosanne knew she was watching for some sign of her being suitably embarrassed. 'But Don Jaime does not dislike for you to use his familiar name, then? Perhaps he also calls you by your name, is that so, Rosanne?'
To Rosanne his sudden use of her first name had been a startling and unexpected familiarity, like that stunning kiss the night before, but she did not believe it meant half as much as Marta was trying to make it mean; not to Jaime Delguiro anyway. Seeing her friend's hopeful face, she shook her head.
'It isn't unusual for people, even almost strangers, to use one another's first names, Marta.'
'For a man like Don Jaime it is not usual,' Marta insisted firmly. She ate in silence for a second or two, apparently musing on something, then she leaned forward again as if to impress Rosanne with what she was saying. 'I do not understand Don Jaime,' she confessed, and obviously the fact troubled her. 'What kind of a man is it who forbids you to visit his house and yet invites you to have dinner with him? Who behaves with such reserve and arrogance and yet uses the name of a pretty girl when he has known her for such a short time, hah? Is he not a strange man, Rosanne?'
Rosanne still gave her attention to her meal while she expressed her own verdict on Jaime Delguiro. 'He's certainly an adamant one, or stubborn, depending on your point of view. As you say, he took me to dinner, and ' She stopped herself in time from saying anything about the way he had kissed her when they returned from San Gregorio. 'And he uses my name occasionally, but he still won't consider changing his
/>
mind about me going to see Beatriz again.'
'You have asked him?'
Rosanne laughed shortly, remembering two abortive attempts to persuade him. 'I've tried,' she admitted. 'But he won't even listen.'
Marta, she thought when she looked up, was up to something, and she wondered what she had in mind when her friend left the table for a second to fetch a letter from her handbag. 'I have a letter here that will perhaps make a difference to Don Jaime's attitude,' Marta declared with obvious satisfaction. 'Since it is in Spanish I will read it to you—escuchar!'
'Just a minute!' Rosanne swallowed hastily and laughed. 'If you tell me who the letter's from it might help me to understand better what's going on. It isn't from Jaime—Don Jaime, surely?'
'No, no, no! It is from his aunt, Dona Elena Ostera.'
Rosanne gave up any pretence of eating and stared at her, her heart suddenly beating just a little faster. 'Pablo's mother wrote to you?'
In view of what Jaime had told her about his aunt being heartbroken at the loss of her only son, and his determination not to have her upset by confronting her with Rosanne, she dared not think what the gist of the letter was. She could hardly believe it was as encouraging as Marta seemed to think.
'Si, now listen to me while I read to you, mi amiga, hah?' She held the page some distance from her eyes and read slowly, translating as she went, into her slow pedantic English. '—I have heard from my daughter Beatriz that your English friend who is with you at' present knew my beloved son Pablo. If the senorita could bear to meet with me and speak of my dear son, I would be most grateful to her. Could you, Senora Segovia, beg that she accompanies you when you call to see us at the house of my nephew, Don Jaime Delguiro?' Marta folded the paper again and looked at her with bright, curious eyes. 'There is more, but that is the most important part, eh, Rosanne?'
To Rosanne, who remembered how hard she had tried to get in touch with Pablo's family after the accident that had killed him, the whole thing was too confusing for her to be sure of anything at the moment. Perhaps in that instance too, Jaime had spoken on. behalf of his aunt, without actually consulting her— knowing Jaime it was possible.
'I tried to contact them—Pablo's family, after he was killed,' she said, still frowning uncertainly. 'The police said I should forget all about it and go home, you remember that, Marta?'
'I remember, mi amiga.' She reached across and squeezed her hand reassuringly. 'But that was more than a year ago now, and the senora has had the hurt smoothed from her grief, perhaps.'
'Or she never knew I tried to see her,' Rosanne suggested, not wanting to blame Jaime in any way, but seeing it as all too possible an answer. 'Maybe Jaime was trying to prevent me from seeing her then too.'
Marta said nothing for a moment or two, and they both continued eating their meal, though with rather less enthusiasm, for they had other things on their minds. They had disposed of the first course before Marta mentioned the matter again, and she looked across at Rosanne with such obvious meaning that Rosanne frowned at her enquiringly.
'Rosanne—think, mi amiga!' She tapped her own forehead with a forefinger and smiled. 'Who has told Dona Elena that you were the one with Pablo, eh?' Rosanne stared at her, a sudden fluttering urgency in her heartbeat when she followed the inevitable meaning. 'Beatriz did not know of your connection with Pablo, we have agreed that, no! Is it likely that Catalina Ostera knew of it?' Marta was shaking her head, firmly convinced. 'It must have been Don Jaime himself, hah?'
'I can't believe he would, I mean She shook her head slowly. 'He wouldn't, Marta, not after all the trouble he went to keep me from seeing his aunt.'
'Then he must have had the second thought,' Marta decreed firmly. 'It is possible, even with a man as— stubborn?—as Don Jaime, eh?',
'I suppose so.'
'Then you will come with me tomorrow to Casa Delguiro, si?'
Rosanne looked at the letter now lying beside Marta's plate and nodded a little vaguely. 'I think I must,' she said. 'I can't very well refuse an invitation like that from Pablo's mother, can I?'
'Also you are curious, eh?'
'I'm curious,' Rosanne admitted, and could not suppress a sudden curl of excitement when she came up with a possible reason for Jaime telling his aunt about her. after all.
He was" not the kind of man to back down having once made a decision, but by putting the onus on to someone else he might achieve the same object; He must know his aunt pretty well, and he might well have had a suspicion that she would, after all this time, have decided to see her, whether she had wanted to initially or not. There were more ways than one of changing his mind—but it was his reason for wanting to that most interested Rosanne.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Rosanne had seldom been more apprehensive about visiting anyone in her life before. From her letter Senora Ostera sounded a very kind and pleasant woman, but she was Pablo's mother, and Rosanne could not forget that she was also Jaime's aunt. It was more than possible that she shared the same variable temperament with her formidable nephew. Jaime could, she recalled, be a very amiable man on occasion, but there was always that streak of ruthlessness to be reckoned with.
The possibility of Senora Ostera being anything like Jaime was the reason for Rosanne being so unusually quiet and subdued as she drove with Marta to Casa Delguiro, and it was inevitable that her mood would be noticed and remarked upon. 'Are you not happy about this visit, Rosanne?'
Unable to deny it, Rosanne pulled a face. 'I'm not exactly unhappy, just apprehensive,' she confessed, and laughed as the impressive walls of Casa Delguiro came into view amid a mass of shading trees. 'I can't help wondering if Jaime's going to be any more in favour of my coming, whatever his aunt thinks about it. I don't know it was him who put the idea into her head, Marta, do I?'
'We agreed that no one else could have done so,' Marta argued.
'And I can't help feeling just a bit guilty about Pablo. Oh, I know,' Rosanne hastened to add when she sensed an argument looming, 'I haven't really anything to reproach myself with, but Pablo was an only son and, according to Jaime, Senora Ostera doted on him. I can't help feeling that she must harbour some resentment because I came through the same accident virtually unscathed.'
'But Pablo was driving the car, mi amiga,' Marta reminded her. 'It could have been you who was killed, and then how much more guilty he would have felt, for he would have been to blame! No, no, no, Rosanne, I am sure that Dona Elena would not have asked for you to come and see her if she had not the wish to meet you in kindness.'
'Yes, I suppose you're right.'
'Be sure I am, Rosanne!'
While apparently willing to be reassured, Rosanne could not entirely dismiss the possibility of some emotion on the sen or a's part. But it was not so much the prospect of Dona Elena's reception of her that brought a more rapid urgency to her heartbeat, Rosanne realised as they approached the tall, guardian gates of the patio, it was the possibility of seeing Jaime again, and not knowing just how much in agreement he was with this visit.
The almost overpowering scents-of the gardens met them as soon as they set foot outside the car, and there was a soothing kind of restfulness in the tumbling masses of flowers, set amid high walls and cooled by the tinkling voice of water in the fountain. If it was not for the prospect before her she would have been content simply to enjoy the beauty around her, but the circumstances of her being there made that impossible.
Just as she had at the beginning of their last visit, Beatriz Manola came out to meet them almost before they were through the gates, and she at least showed no less warmth in her welcome than she had on the first occasion. She took Marta's hands and hugged her, then remarked frankly and enthusiastically on Rosanne's rose pink silk dress.
'It suits you because you are so fair,' she told her, and bright dark eyes admired Rosanne's shoulder- length light brown hair. 'I always wished that I might be fair-haired when I was a child,' she confessed, and laughed at the memory. 'I think it wa
s so that I might be different from the other children!'
Rosanne laughed, thankful for the lighthearted beginning they had made. 'I'm what is known as light mouse,' she told Beatriz. 'We have a lot of mousey- coloured people where I come from—most of us belong to one group or another; dark, light or medium 1' 'So,?' Beatriz looked as if she suspected she was being teased, but she smiled and took Rosanne's arm as well as Marta's while they walked across the patio. 'Mamd looks forward to meeting you, Rosanne.' From the way she hesitated it was evident she had more to say but was unsure how to put it. 'She will talk much of Pablo—I hope you will not be too disturbed by this.'
'Yes, of course she will, and I don't mind in the least talking about your brother. I liked him very much.'
'Ah!'
It was debatable just what the brief and curiously sharp sound was meant to convey, but Rosanne had heard it more than once from Jaime and it served once more to remind her of the possibility of meeting him. They were nearing the house and she wished she had more time to talk to Beatriz before she met her family; as it was, she had time only to try and explain her position the last- time they had met.
Image of Love Page 12