Masquerade

by Hannah Fielding

  Adalia took the seat that Doña Lilliana had vacated and sipped the last of her sangria. ‘I think my brother is quite taken with you, Doña Luz.’ She looked at her over the rim of her glass. ‘But then you must be used to having that effect on men …’

  Luz shifted uncomfortably in her chair. Her experience with men so far was a little too painful to contemplate. ‘Well, I don’t know about that.’

  Adalia waved a perfectly manicured hand. ‘Oh, come on, you must have noticed how men look at you! You’re so gorgeous, it’s hard not to. Any man would be madly attracted to you.’ She gave a high laugh. ‘Lorenzo is clearly smitten. As for our dear Andrés, he can’t stop singing your praises. It really is getting rather silly. I told him that he needed to be a little more professional or it wouldn’t be fair on you. After all, you’re trying to get a job done, which I’m sure you’ll do admirably. The last thing you want is your boss being f lirtatious.’

  Luz flushed. ‘Andrés is just being charming.’ Silently adding to herself, and it’s really none of your business.

  Adalia arched a finely shaped eyebrow. ‘Yes, he’s very good at that, isn’t he?’

  Luz glanced down at her glass. ‘Andrés is an ambitious, powerful man. I think charm goes with his job.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sure.’ Adalia stared at her again then her elegant lips broke into a smile. ‘Our family has a substantial number of Eduardo de Salazar’s artworks, you know, in our private collection. I’m sure you’d find it useful to see them for your book. You must come over to the house one day.’

  Luz’s eyebrows went up in surprise. ‘Your private collection,’ she repeated. Why had Andrés not mentioned this himself? Wasn’t it a significant piece of information she should have known? No matter. Though she wasn’t about to admit her embarrassing ignorance of the Herrera collection, she had to concede that this would be very useful indeed for her research.

  ‘That would be fascinating, thank you,’ she replied enthusiastically. ‘The more of Eduardo’s originals I can study, the better.’

  Luz hardly admitted it to herself but she was also curious about Adalia. She couldn’t help but be charmed by her despite her meddling tongue; she was also curious about the young socialite’s relationship with Andrés. Clearly Adalia felt proprietorial over him. That could be simply the protectiveness of an old friend, almost like a sister, but somehow Luz doubted it. Her heart gave an unpleasant squeeze at the thought of the intimate bond the two clearly shared. She was being ridiculous; why did this bother her?

  Luz broke out of her thoughts and met Adalia’s smiling eyes. They don’t miss a trick, she couldn’t help thinking, a little uncharitably.

  Adalia seemed quite genuine in her invitation, eager to have Luz visit their house: ‘It’s the least I can do to help. I don’t know if Andrés told you but my parents were friends with Eduardo, though sadly I never met the great man himself. Our family is keen for your project to be a roaring success, too. From what Andrés tells me, with your talents we could well have a bestseller on our hands.’

  Luz looked uncomfortable. ‘Gosh, I don’t know about that. I’m still at the research stage so it’s a bit soon to be making any predictions.’

  Adalia was far more subtle and agreeable than her brother, but Luz still found that she couldn’t feel entirely comfortable around her. For one thing, it was hard to know how to react, other than awkwardly, to the young woman’s lavish compliments. Luz was much too down-to-earth for social gush. Nonetheless, she couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for having branded Andrés’ friend patronizing and unfriendly. She would certainly accept Doña Adalia’s invitation to view the Herrera private collection; she just hoped that Lorenzo would not be around.

  Adalia seemed intent on bringing the conversation back to Andrés. This time she gazed closely at Luz for a moment, a picture of solicitude. ‘You do look very tired. I hope that old tyrant isn’t working you too hard, Doña Luz. You must let me take you for lunch one day. We could go shopping, give you a break from the book. And from Andrés, too,’ she added, giving Luz’s arm a little squeeze. Adalia leant in to whisper in her ear, her eyes dancing mischievously. ‘I can tell you all about his wicked ways and how to avoid them.’

  Luz thought back to the kiss on the beach and coloured a little. ‘Oh, I don’t think I’ll need any help on that score. Andrés has been professional throughout,’ she lied. ‘We’ve already had some very productive meetings and the project’s shaping up well,’ she added, trying not to think about just how unnerving those encounters had been. Then, not to seem rude, she thanked Adalia warmly. ‘Lunch would be nice, that sounds lovely.’

  Luz took a sip of sangria and then, almost as if she couldn’t help herself, she asked nonchalantly: ‘Do you know much about his wicked ways?’ She sensed it was probably not a great idea to gossip about her employer with one of his dearest friends, but she was curious to know more about the man.

  Adalia’s eyes gleamed a little more brightly as she regarded Luz. ‘Oh, I like to think I have a special relationship with Andrés. I probably know him better than anyone. I’ve seen many women come and go, and he tires of each one sooner or later. Yes, I’ve learned something of his tactics by now.’

  Before Luz could absorb this remark, or find out what those tactics might be, Adalia smiled an inscrutable smile and nodded over Luz’s shoulder. ‘Oh, look, I think those dancers are wanting you to join them, Doña Luz,’ she said, watching another line of people approach the table, one of whom reached for Luz’s arm.

  As she was pulled from her chair and away into the crowd, Luz didn’t have time to stop and watch the smile fade from Adalia’s lips.

  * * *

  The week of festivities went by quickly with different activities taking place each day. There was the great San Fermin procession through the old part of Pamplona featuring a statue of the saint and the gigantes – huge papier-mâché puppet figures, twirling through the streets to the sound of loud traditional drumming music – sporting competitions, bullfights and fireworks every evening, all interspersed with drinking, singing, dancing and general merriment. Luz attended the parade of giants, and that of the picadors on horseback, with Alba and Carlos, and she watched the running of the bulls twice more. Whenever she got a moment to herself, she roamed the streets of Pamplona, her eyes always searching in the hope of bumping into Leandro but he was never anywhere to be seen. Their sudden meeting had taken the carefree and happy edge away from her holiday. She missed him dreadfully and ached for him every moment of the day. There was no doubt in her mind that the scales of love were tipped against her happiness. How had she managed to get herself in such a mess?

  One night Carlos took Luz and Alba down to the lower part of the old city to watch the bulls for the next day’s run being driven from the reception pens on the outskirts and taken to the temporary corral in the Calle Santo Domingo, where they would spend the night. Luz was not particularly enthusiastic about going but to refuse would have been impolite.

  They stood in a recess of a building waiting for the bulls to pass by. It was the dead of night when they heard the muted rattle of hoofs in the distance. Suddenly, the magnificent creatures loomed out of the shadows, a picador on horseback at their head. A shaft of silver moonlight fell on their glistening skins as they hurried on past. Their panting echoed eerily in the darkness as they went, leaving in their wake a waft of animal smell that was carried on the night breeze. The peons, their keepers, ran beside them armed with stone slings; agile young men with long hair who reminded Luz of Leandro. There was a nobility and dignity in their physical bearing so like that of the young gypsy that she was for a moment entranced. In seconds the ghostly convoy had gone, swallowed by obscurity, the drama ended.

  Lorenzo had rung several times during the week, wanting to invite Luz for a tête-a-tête lunch or dinner. She always declined sweetly but firmly. Carlos and Alba were a little bemused: they couldn’t understand their friend’s antipathy towards the torero.

 
; ‘Most women would give their lives for a glance from Lorenzo, let alone the attention he’s lavishing on you,’ Alba noted, regarding her friend with curiosity as they both dressed in her room for dinner one evening. ‘Are you just playing hard to get?’

  ‘No, I don’t play those sorts of games, Alba, you should know me better than that,’ she answered tersely. ‘There’s something about that man I find a bit creepy. He’s too smooth, too slippery. You know, like quicksilver …’

  Alba gave Luz a slanting look. ‘You like them rugged, the rough diamond types, do you?’ she said teasingly.

  Was that it? ‘Maybe,’ Luz murmured wistfully as she thought of her beloved gypsy, ‘but I don’t think so.’ She pondered on that thought for a few seconds. ‘No, there’s something deeper than that, something I can’t put my finger on, and which I find a little, well … repulsive about Don Lorenzo,’ she ended with conviction.

  ‘Luz! That’s a little harsh, don’t you think?’ Alba looked at her indignantly for a moment but then breathed a sigh of relief. ‘So, in that case, I take it that you won’t mind if I make a beeline for him at his party tomorrow night?’

  ‘Of course not, Alba, don’t be silly!’ Luz felt suddenly embarrassed that she hadn’t attempted to hide her vehement dislike of the man. ‘I had no idea … I’m so sorry. He’s probably perfectly nice, just not my type,’ she added hastily, unable, however, not to privately wonder at her friend’s taste in men.

  Alba flushed pink. ‘I’ve been in love with him since I was eighteen and went to his first corrida. He’s all I’ve ever dreamed I wanted in a man. Can you blame me? He’s handsome, charming, courageous and rich. Surely, you have to admit that?’

  Luz nodded, not trusting herself to comment. Luckily Alba wasn’t looking for a response. The relief her friend clearly felt in unburdening herself was coming out in a flurry of chatter, the words tumbling over themselves.

  ‘What more could a woman ask for?’ she added, her eyes shining, before their expression became rueful. ‘Look, it’ll probably come to nothing – he’s never shown much interest in me. But at least I can be honest with you now: I was afraid you liked him and were just biding your time. I’m so relieved that’s not true! Mind you, I can’t believe there’s a woman on earth who wouldn’t be f lattered by his attentions.’ She nudged her friend teasingly. ‘Well, apart from you, clearly. Luz, you are a strange girl sometimes.’

  She paused to give Luz a little hug before rattling on again. ‘Anyhow, he isn’t attached, as far as I know. The newspapers would have been full of it if he were.’ She smiled. ‘Carlos thinks I stand a chance, you know. We’re quite well matched when you come to think of it. Our families have known each other for ever.’ She paused again, looking earnestly into Luz’s face. ‘But you know, don’t you, Luz, that if you were in the least bit interested, I would have stepped aside. I would never want to compete with a friend.’ The side of her mouth quirked up. ‘Particularly not one as ridiculously pretty as you.’

  Luz was touched. ‘Well, you can rest assured, Alba, I have no interest whatsoever in Don Lorenzo Herrera. I will be only too happy if you monopolize him at the party. And that is the solemn truth, I promise,’ she ended firmly. ‘Actually, I’ve half a mind to say I’m too ill to go tomorrow. Besides, I’m really not in the mood for a party.’

  ‘Oh no, Luz! You can’t, that would look really rude. Anyhow, he’d guess it’s a lie. He’s rung every day and you’ve turned down every single one of his invitations. You’ll simply have to go to this one. After all, it’s not as though you’ll be alone with him.’

  Luz sighed deeply. ‘Yes, I suppose so.’

  Alba eyed her friend with concern. They had been close since childhood and had seen a lot of each other, on and off, over the years. ‘Anyway, what’s come over you? You used to love parties. I can tell something’s the matter. You seem too quiet. It’s as if you’re only half-present these days.’

  Luz put on a bright smile. ‘Nothing’s the matter, honestly. I still love parties, I’m just a little weary at the moment.’

  ‘Something tells me there’s a man behind this. Are you in love?’

  Luz looked away, her throat suddenly painful. ‘A man? Me, in love?’ She let out a small, bitter laugh. ‘Never!’ she breathed with a catch in her voice, forcing the smile back to her drawn face. And then, unable to contain her grief any longer, she burst into tears and sobbed her heart out.

  Alba put her arms around her. ‘Hush, hush.’ She smoothed Luz’s hair away from her tear-stained face. ‘So, it’s rather more serious than I thought,’ she murmured. ‘Who is this scoundrel? Do I know him?’

  Luz gave half a sob and shook her head. ‘He isn’t a scoundrel … actually, quite the reverse. He’s rather decent, and no, you don’t know him.’

  ‘Is he Spanish?’ Alba prompted. ‘I know most people in our circle.’

  Luz shook her head again. ‘I don’t want to talk about it, Alba, I’m sorry. It’s just that the pain is too raw at the moment,’ she explained haltingly, blowing her nose roughly with the tissue her friend had handed her. ‘One day, maybe, when it doesn’t feel so painful.’

  ‘You’ll get over it,’ Alba told her with an encouraging smile. ‘One always gets over it. No man is worth the heartache. Look at me, for instance. I’ve been pining over Lorenzo for so many years but, in the meantime, I’ve still managed to fall in and out of love more than once and each time I’ve thought it was the end of the world. Soon enough I was proved wrong, every time.’ She hugged her friend. ‘Mark my words, you’ll get over him.’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Luz insisted in a broken voice. ‘You don’t understand. I’ve never felt this way about any man before.’

  ‘Nonsense! Every man is different, anyway. No two experiences are the same,’ Alba declared emphatically. ‘If you can feel this way about one man, you can feel it for another.’

  Luz smiled sadly; she could really do without all this pain and humiliation. ‘I hope you’re right,’ she replied with a shaky sigh. ‘I really do.’

  * * *

  The dashing silver car climbed and snaked its way among extensive fruit plantations as Luz, Carlos and Alba motored to Lorenzo’s Navarrese home outside Pamplona. Carlos drove quickly, familiar with each bend in the road. Luz was lost in thought, looking at the countryside out of the window without seeing it, and Alba, who could not contain her excitement, made up for her friend’s silence with her constant chatter.

  La Fortaleza, the family home of Lorenzo and Adalia’s mother, Paloma Castillo-Gomez, was an impressive hacienda set on a plateau on the banks of the River Arga in the midst of the green countryside and surrounded by mountains. Its grey walls had stood there for two centuries, grand and imposing among landscaped gardens and ancient specimen trees. The grand house had been the home of the Castillo-Gomez family uninterruptedly during all that time. Rumour had it that their wealth had its origins in smuggling, but today they were respectable traders, holding large corporations in Spain and over the border in France. The marriage of Don Felipe, Lorenzo’s father, into this wealthy old family had been viewed by many as one of pure convenience and continued self-interest on the part of the Herreras. In later years, La Fortaleza had been divided by the Herrera and Castillo-Gomez families into individual large apartments to accommodate various sons and daughters and their offspring, when they came to spend their holidays there, while the main core of the house was shared by everyone for parties and other social gatherings. Tonight, Lorenzo had the run of his mother’s ancestral home to entertain a cluster of handpicked guests.

  Twilight was passing into darkness as they arrived. Shadows were expiring in the dusk and the pale evening star shone in the sky. The remains of a setting sun gilded the dark-grey bastion with a special but fleeting glory. At the edge of night it stood out mysteriously with its background of mountains, the essence of repose and solitude.

  ‘It is rather grand,’ noted Alba as the car turned into the long drive.

 
‘It’s eerie, that’s what it is,’ Luz shivered. It suits Lorenzo’s persona to a tee, she thought, but kept that to herself. ‘It should be called Castillo de los Vampiros.’

  Alba was a little put out at Luz’s thinly veiled slight. ‘That’s such an unfair thing to say,’ she exclaimed. ‘It’s pretty impressive, if you ask me. You’re biased. Just because, for some reason, you find the man insufferable …’ She gave Luz a sideways look. ‘I sincerely hope you don’t intend to spend this evening being the ghost at the party.’

  Luz laughed. ‘Well, I wouldn’t be out of place, would I?’ she teased, her sense of humour returning, blue eyes glittering with mischief.

  As they came in sight of the ancient gateway, grey and massive, the gloom that had oppressed her all week rapidly seemed to lift and a tingling sensation of excitement swelled into a greater emotion that appeared to engulf all other feelings. She was surprised at this abrupt mood swing, and couldn’t account for it, but welcomed it all the same.

  Alba was right: she had always loved parties. Tonight she wanted to forget Leandro and the heartache he had caused her. With time, she would forget him. Someday she would meet someone new … maybe it would be tonight. How she wished it would be tonight so this heartache would stop.

  CHAPTER 7

  Carlos parked the car in La Fortaleza’s large gravel parking area and together they strolled across a quaint old bridge over the River Arga that ran through the estate. They made their way through an ancient stone horseshoe arch that interrupted a wall overgrown with ivy and into a broad courtyard planted with pollard trees that led to the house. The hacienda itself was a large pile of dark-grey granite, imposing in its magnitude but with scarcely a trace of beauty, Luz thought, as they approached the great central portal. La Fortaleza’s crenellated walls and hard angles made it resemble a brooding fortress more than a home, and the heavy wooden doors stood open like the cavernous roar of a huge beast.