Masquerade

by Hannah Fielding

  At one o’clock in the morning Luz had to accept that Andrés was neither coming nor was he going to call her. Sapped of energy, she went to her room, undressed slowly and crept into bed. In spite of the cool breeze that came through the window she felt stifled, hemmed in, too weary to sleep and too numb to feel anger or any other emotion. Perhaps she had always been waiting for something to punish her for her reckless desires and disprove the truth of her happiness.

  Now that hovering dread eased its cold fingers into her soul, she gave herself up to her deepest fears, raking over the past months. Had Andrés ever truly loved her? He had only said the words while making love to her. Maybe they didn’t count. He had neither made any promises nor had he asked her to commit to anything. They had enjoyed a day-to-day, carefree relationship. Had all the dreams, the plans she dared to make about him during the past weeks, been one-sided? She questioned everything miserably but it all seemed confused and unreal. What a mess; her head ached. How could she have walked twice into the same trap? She was full of vain regrets for Leandro and overwhelmed with longing for Andrés. Both had used her and then swept her aside without a second thought.

  A lump rose in her throat and her eyes misted with a sudden rush of tears that she fought back. It was useless to cry now. Even though there was so much she still did not understand, she must forsake all those naïve dreams and look to her future instead. Perhaps it was inevitable that she and Andrés would have to part for good. She shuddered at the thought. Despite Adalia’s put-down she had still planned to be with him at his party at El Ecrin. Now she could not see herself turning up at his home for the first time, not knowing if he wanted her or not, with the added possibility that she might be humiliated among all those people, including Adalia. Finally, her mind exhausted and her body weary from tossing and turning, she fell into a dreamless deep sleep.

  * * *

  Luz woke very late with a headache. Memories of the previous day flooded back, with all their attendant pain and hurt. Frustration at her own stupidity overwhelmed her. She rolled over, hid her face in her pillow and sobbed bitterly. After a few moments the door opened slowly. Luz looked up through a haze of tears to see her mother entering the room with a cup of steaming chocolate, which she placed on the bedside table. Alexandra perched on the side of the bed, took one look at her daughter and held out her arms. Luz leaned into her mother’s embrace, hugging her tightly, her tears now spent.

  ‘Agustina telephoned us, and your father and I arrived in the early hours of this morning,’ Alexandra explained, gently offering her daughter a handkerchief to dry her tears, ‘before Carmela had a chance to clear the table,’ she added pointedly.

  Luz glanced at her mother, whose expression of grave concern was mixed with the tender patience of maternal curiosity. Her parents, having noticed the table still laid with candles for a romantic dinner, wine standing in the cooler, the food lying in the kitchen, untouched, would have known what conclusions to draw.

  Salvador appeared in the doorway and came over to his daughter. Leaning down, he cradled her face in his hands and kissed her forehead.

  ‘Niña, how are you?’

  She smiled weakly. ‘I’m fine, Papá, really. I’m glad you’re both here.’

  ‘So who has made my little girl so unhappy?’ Salvador asked, settling himself in a chair as he gave his wife a meaningful glance, which didn’t escape Luz’s notice.

  ‘How much have you guessed?’ she asked with a sigh, leaning back against the pillows and eyeing them both apprehensively.

  Alexandra placed a comforting hand on Luz’s knee. ‘We guessed that you’ve been seeing Don Andrés since the charity ball at the Yacht Club. You seemed happier than we’ve ever seen you, and then we got this call from Agustina and knew that something had happened …’ She glanced at her husband. ‘And we know that Adalia Herrera set about to create mischief between you both.’

  Luz stared at her mother, not knowing where to begin. ‘She said so many things about Andrés and me … and about you and Papá. I know it was all hideous lies,’ she added quickly as she saw her mother’s face darken with anxiety.

  ‘Luz, we will explain everything to you, I promise,’ said Alexandra, intent eyes never leaving her daughter’s face, ‘We had our reasons for not talking about certain things in the past.’

  Salvador nodded. ‘Your mother’s right, but there’s plenty of time later to deal with all that. For now, what is more important is finding out what has caused you such distress.’

  Just having her parents there cheered Luz immensely and she felt a weight lift from her chest, no longer having to keep secrets from them. She drank her hot chocolate and slowly told them about Adalia’s visit. They both listened without interrupting until she had finished.

  ‘Are you sure you love this man?’ Salvador asked when there was obviously nothing more for her to tell.

  ‘Yes, Papá,’ she whispered. ‘I’ve never felt like this about anyone before.’

  ‘And he loves you?’

  ‘He obviously doesn’t, judging by his cavalier treatment of me. He didn’t even have the courtesy to ring and apologize.’

  ‘Umm … not necessarily true.’ Salvador scratched his chin as he got up and paced the room. ‘If the lion bares his teeth, don’t assume he is smiling. Things are not always what they seem, you must know that, querida.’

  Alexandra sighed. Luz could see her mother was deeply upset. ‘If this woman is as wicked as her aunt, then God preserve us!’

  Salvador frowned and looked at his wife. ‘Simple,’ he said. ‘If Luz loves him, she must confront him.’

  Luz, however, did not seem convinced. ‘What about my pride? I’m not going to run after him,’ she said grimly.

  Salvador shrugged. ‘Pride … pride … What about your pride, niña? Either you want this man or you don’t, there are no two ways about it.’ He looked at his wife. ‘Don’t you think, querida?’

  ‘Don’t look at me. I’m the last one to give advice on that front,’ Alexandra said, shaking her head. ‘I made such a mess of things and nearly lost you with my foolishness. If it hadn’t been for the kindness of Doña Inez, you would have never known the truth and I’d be still in England, pining for you.’

  Salvador slanted a mischievous smile at Alexandra before turning to his daughter. ‘You see? Your mother admits that her English pride nearly got the better of her. There is no sense in anyone staying in bed and crying for love,’ he told her, an inflexion of indulgent humour in his voice as he gazed at her anxious face. ‘You agree, niña?’

  Luz nodded and smiled up at her father. ‘I guess so, but I’m not quite sure how to go about it.’

  ‘Have you rung his office?’ Alexandra enquired softly. ‘He might still be away.’

  Luz looked a little sheepish and caught her lower lip between her teeth. ‘No, not yet,’ she admitted. ‘I’ve never rung him at work before. I feel a little awkward doing it, especially with the situation being what it is.’

  ‘He seemed a perfectly reasonable young man with excellent manners. I can’t imagine him behaving so discourteously, even if he doesn’t want to see you any more. I don’t think you should cross your bridges before you come to them,’ Alexandra told her daughter.

  ‘Listen to the voice of wisdom, niña. As usual, your mother sees the sensible way forward.’ He gestured with his head towards Alexandra and made a show of lowering his voice. ‘Well, at least now that she’s grown out of her young “foolishness”.’ He grinned broadly at his wife, who merely cocked an amused eyebrow. ‘Your words, querida, not mine.’

  But Luz had no time to reply as there was a knock at the door. ‘Come in,’ she called out. It was Carmela bearing a huge bunch of flowers. ‘Oh, red roses,’ Luz gasped as she leapt out of bed and ran to take them from the housekeeper. The last time she had received some, they had been from Andrés.

  ‘I’m sorry, Doña Luz,’ said Carmela, her hand resting contritely on her ample bosom. ‘Madre de Dios! I gave the de
livery boy a clip round the ear. These are a day late,’ she explained. ‘That boy has the face of an angel but the brain of an ass,’ she muttered as she hurried off in the direction of the kitchen.

  With trembling hands, Luz unfastened the small envelope attached to the cellophane and impatiently tore it open. The typewritten note was brief and to the point: ‘So sorry – I will have to miss dinner tonight. I have been unavoidably held up. I’ll see you at my birthday party at El Ecrin on Saturday night. With my best regards.’ It was signed Andrés de Calderón. Luz was a little disappointed. He had obviously not written it himself, no doubt leaving it to his secretary to send this rather formal note on his behalf. Still, the flowers came as a huge relief and now she would be able to attend the party on Saturday without being dogged by the fear that he had somehow cast her off without a word of explanation.

  Nonetheless Luz still felt uneasiness in her bones; she sensed something was not quite right. Why had he not rung her instead of sending her this bland note? It seemed the obvious thing to do. When she aired her misgivings, Alexandra was sanguine.

  ‘“Absence carries its reasons,” goes the Moorish saying,’ she said. ‘Don’t jump to conclusions, it’s one of Agustina’s favourite sayings.’ She laughed lightly. ‘Those endless proverbs used to irritate me but some of them are very wise. Your Andrés may have a perfectly good reason and he will tell it to you in due course.’

  Luz gave the roses another thoughtful sniff. ‘What do you think, Papá?’

  Salvador smiled indulgently at his daughter, shook his head and left it at that.

  ‘Papá!’ Luz prompted.

  ‘Do as your mother tells you, give the man a chance to explain. If the explanation doesn’t convince you, then we’ll rethink.’

  * * *

  The few days between then and Saturday stretched uncomfortably for Luz; she half expected Andrés to appear at the front door at every moment. Why should he not? After all, he owed her an explanation and this silence was unnatural. The roses, the note, had only gone a small way to allay her fears. He was forever in her mind, her emotions on a constant seesaw. Treacherous voices whispered and hinted, infiltrating her heart with unpleasant doubts. She swayed from being elated, on the one hand, in anticipation of seeing him again, to melancholy on the other. It was the thought of Adalia’s place in his life that kept creeping insidiously into her mind. Clearly they had a business relationship; after all, he had introduced her and Lorenzo as his partners. But so much suggested that their bond did not end there: the way he had let himself be monopolized by her at La Fortaleza and all those other little private, personal signs more eloquent than words. But if they had been intimately involved in the past, were they still? In Andrés’ mind, was Adalia the future wife and Luz some sort of stop-gap mistress, as the socialite had implied?

  As she dressed for his birthday party, it suddenly occurred to Luz again that this was the first time Andrés had invited her to El Ecrin, his home. Always before they had met either at L’Estrella or at Puesta de Sol, his uncle’s house. She had never questioned it, never found it strange. But now the thought hit her out of the blue and it threw ice water on any excitement she felt at the idea of seeing him again. She drew a breath. Her naïvety beggared belief; things were adding up. It was only now that she understood how unrealistic she had been. With an effort, she cast those negative thoughts aside. No matter what the harsh truth might be, she would keep her chin up and concentrate on the task at hand, which was to look her best tonight.

  ‘Te ves divina, you look divine,’ her father exclaimed as she walked out on to the terrace. ‘An ode to romantic glamour!’

  Luz burst out laughing; her father could always bring a smile to her face even at the most miserable of times. ‘No wonder Mamá fell head over heels for you. You do say the most beautiful things,’ she said, putting her arms around his neck and kissing him.

  Salvador and Alexandra surveyed the understated elegance of their daughter. She did indeed look divine in her floor-skimming periwinkle chiffon bustier gown. The sophisticated look lay in the perfect cut of the garment: the bodice was tight fitting, ruched at the top of the heart-shaped décolleté, while the skirt flowed gently to the ground in draped panels, slightly shorter at the front. Sparkling, dainty high-heeled strappy sandals adorned her feet, her pretty painted toenails peeping out of them like little pearly enamelled shells. Luz held herself like a queen. She had her mother to thank for that, Alexandra having insisted her daughter took ballet lessons as a child, hence her perfect posture.

  ‘I haven’t seen that necklace before,’ Salvador commented on noticing the delicate strands of pearls, diamonds and amethysts adorning Luz’s slender neck. ‘It’s quite lovely.’ She had lifted her heavy, lustrous raven-black hair up on to the crown of her head and the necklace set off the pure line of her swan-like throat, drawing attention to the perfect curves of her bust and beautifully smooth, tanned shoulders.

  ‘Aunt Geraldine gave it to me with these earrings when I graduated. It has a matching bangle and ring, which would have been too much for tonight,’ she told him. ‘I probably showed them to you in their box at the time, but I have never had the occasion to wear them. Purple isn’t usually my first choice of colour.’

  ‘But it really does suit you,’ Alexandra declared. ‘It gives your eyes an interesting violet tint.’ She went over to Luz and cupped her cheek tenderly. ‘You are so beautiful, my lovely daughter. I simply refuse to believe that Andrés would prefer that dreadful woman to you. She is handsome, I grant you that, but so are statues and that is not what usually moves men.’

  Luz kissed her mother affectionately and gave her an indulgent smile. ‘You are biased, Mamá,’ she told her lightly. ‘I’m your only daughter and Adalia has not only been beastly to me, but she is the offspring of someone who hurt you and Papá rather badly.’ She gave a little self-deprecating laugh. ‘Says it all, doesn’t it?’

  ‘None of that tonight,’ her father reprimanded softly. ‘Go off and show them all what an elegant, sophisticated, ravishing young woman Luz María Cervantes de Rueda is. I guarantee, men will be falling over themselves to dance with you.’

  Luz smiled bleakly. She did not care about all the other men in the world: for her the only one who counted was Andrés.

  * * *

  The party was in full swing when Luz arrived at the striking hacienda that was El Ecrin. Already there were several other cars in the car park. At the ornately panelled oak front door, a major-domo took her through the hall to the tall open French windows that led outdoors. The furniture was minimalist. She had just time to notice a very large painting of a beautiful fair-haired woman, given pride of place at the top of the wrought-iron staircase, before she was ushered outside.

  A crowd of guests had congregated on the lawn of the garden overlooking the sea. The house was not as big as Luz had anticipated, neither was the garden. As far as she could make out, the building had been skilfully carved out of an enormous cliff, all of its rooms facing the Atlantic. Painted white all over, it lay like an exquisite fragile treasure of lace-like ironwork and gilded outside decoration, with terraces of greenery surrounding it: a jewel box made out of rock. Everything about it was of a sophisticated simplicity, quite different to the complicated fantastical creation of Puesta de Sol. Here, the genius of a visionary was just as much present as it was in Eduardo de Salazar’s hacienda. The airy feel and lightness emanating from it was due to the artful contrivances of the builder, some skilled engineering and, most of all, the splendid artistic touch of the architect who had dreamt it up. Pure romance.

  Though the night was still young, a dancefloor had been set up on the emerald lawn of one of the terraces overlooking the ocean and the dancing was in full swing. A golden full moon rode in a sapphire sky, studded so brightly with stars that they shone like lights in the heavens. Its vibrant rays gleamed on black, oily waters and on the white sandy beach dotted with dark shapes of boulders lying at the edge of the shore.

>   Luz immediately spotted the small group where Andrés was holding court, standing tall and distinguished. Her heart sank when she saw Adalia at his side. As usual she looked stunning in a lightweight maxi dress that was golden-beige and skin tight. It was a one-shoulder design with a twist strap and ruched detail on the bodice but the clinching factor that made it unique and so provocative was the thigh-high split on one side, which showed off the length of her shapely legs when she moved.

  A tight fist squeezed Luz’s heart. He’s mine, she cried out silently. Still, how could she compete with that?

  ‘He’s not yours to have,’ someone whispered in her ear.

  She turned sharply to find Lorenzo standing behind her, an ugly smirk on his handsome face. His eyes met hers with a gleam she found intensely offensive. She moved away without answering, but he caught her arm.

  ‘Why don’t you try me instead?’ he suggested in sickening, sugared tones. ‘I’m faithful, generous, famous and much richer than he is.’

  ‘Would you please leave me alone,’ said Luz, desperately trying to control the tight knot of apprehension growing inside her. Her fists clenched so hard that she could feel her nails biting into the f lesh of her palms.

  Lorenzo released her, but not before letting his hand stroke caressingly down the satiny naked flesh of her arm.

  Her stormy eyes withered him with their glance. ‘Don’t!’ she snapped.