Masquerade

by Hannah Fielding

  ‘That first day, when I fell off Zeyna, had you set out to attract my attention?’ she said, inside reproaching herself for asking.

  ‘Yes, but it was not with the intention of distracting you. Unfortunately, fate intervened on that day and reshuffled the cards,’ he replied easily.

  Luz was unconvinced. ‘So when did you decide I was prey worth hunting?’ she asked shakily.

  ‘It wasn’t like that,’ he told her as he heaved a painful sigh. He paused and stood up, moving out of the moonlight to retreat into the shadows against the wall. ‘I will answer your question, but let me first put it in context.’

  Her laugh was sarcastic. ‘Oh, please do,’ she scoffed. ‘I’m dying to know what made you go to such lengths to set up that ingenious piece of theatre on the beach.’

  She got out of bed abruptly and wrapped herself in her silk kimono. ‘It’s stifling in here,’ she said. ‘Let’s sit outside.’

  They moved on to the veranda. Under the moonlight the ocean shone in cool, dazzling splendour like an enormous heaving carpet of shimmering silver. Twinkling stars seemed very close to earth. A big liner at anchor in the bay sat like a dark pencil across the length of the horizon, its lights burning steadily, while a few fishing boats moved slowly over the water towards the open sea. Luz felt the nostalgic quality of the atmosphere.

  Andrés took up the seat next to her, where he had sat so many times in the past month, but tonight was different. Tonight, though he was near her, the man she loved had never felt so far away, forbidden to her now by his own betrayal. For her pride’s sake, and to remain sane, she must not let herself be tempted.

  They stayed silent, avoiding each other’s gaze, looking out to sea, listening to the quiet breath of the wind. Luz tried to appear remote and aloof. Andrés lit a cigarette and puffed on it for a while. Neither wanted to speak, spellbound by the beauty of the night, savouring this temporary moment of truce.

  When Andrés spoke at last his voice was hoarse and low, revealing bitterness long suppressed.

  ‘I am the lovechild of La Pouliche, a gitana, and of Eduardo de Salazar. I was born in a prison in Jerez, where my mother was serving a sentence for theft. I was only a few hours old when I was taken from her and brought to Cádiz. My father could not keep me but he loved my mother and so he arranged for me to be adopted by his sister, Eleadora, and her husband, who had no children. I grew up ignorant of this until a few weeks before my sixteenth birthday when Eduardo, who was dying, called me to his bedside. He told me the truth and I went looking for my natural mother. She had made the enormous sacrifice never to approach me, though she had followed every step in my life since I was adopted by my aunt and uncle.

  ‘Eduardo’s solicitor sent her a report on my progress every month, with the latest photographs, and an annuity so she could live comfortably. She could have taken a house on her own but she chose to live with her people, the gypsies. Because I am her son and because they respected her, despite having a gajo’s child, they received me with open arms. Among them, I discovered a part of myself that had always puzzled me. Before then, I had always been wild and restless, wanting something so different from the life I knew.’

  His lips curved in a gentle smile. ‘My mother lavished on me the love I had never had from Eleadora. Some of my gypsy family resented it, but she was the queen of our people and her word was law.’ A shadow passed over his face. ‘At first, I visited once a month and slowly I began to spend more time with them until it became a way of life. Ten days a month at the gypsy camp, the remaining days among the people I grew up with. My mother had given me the name Leandro, Eduardo chose the name Andrés and I was baptized Andrés Leandro.’

  He stubbed out his cigarette and gazed out over the gently rolling waves. ‘I went to university, went travelling, still struggling with my identity. When I returned to Cádiz in my mid-twenties, I became a successful businessman, dabbling in the latest technologies. Transformation of any kind fascinated me – I suppose that’s why I played around with coloured contact lenses when they came on the market. Another early innovation I couldn’t resist. Once I tried them, the buzz I got from splitting my personality was exhilarating. I could be the wild, dishevelled green-eyed gypsy, Leandro, one day, and then slip back into the persona of Andrés the next: both were me and neither were me. I already had a reputation for a degree of eccentricity so everyone got used to the brown-eyed Andrés de Calderón quickly enough. Over the past few years it’s given me great satisfaction to lead a double life, to keep those sides of myself separate.’ He sighed heavily and turned his head towards her. ‘Until now.’

  Luz surveyed him a moment, taking in the features she knew by heart: the strong jaw, the curve of his lips, the hollows in his cheeks that were a little deeper tonight. The pain on his face and the haunted look in his eyes tore her apart.

  She took a deep breath. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ she asked. ‘Why the lies? Why the deceit? I still don’t understand,’ she said desperately, tears running uncontrollably down her cheeks.

  He sighed deeply, closing his eyes brief ly as though to shut out a nightmare. ‘I wish I didn’t have to tell you this and hurt you even more,’ he whispered. ‘Fate has played a cruel part in both our lives …’ He hesitated.

  Luz wiped her face with her hand. ‘Anything is better than not knowing,’ she told him resolutely.

  ‘My mother’s name was Marujita, she was the gypsy your father sent to prison more than thirty years ago with her brother, who died there of pneumonia,’ he stated flatly, lifting his gaze to face her.

  Luz sucked in a deep breath. Her head was spinning painfully; the puzzle was fitting together and she could almost guess what he would say next. She stared at him.

  ‘Yes, my father sent them to prison,’ she said eventually. ‘Were you never taught right from wrong? They were thieves and, correct me if I’m wrong, but your mother’s brother drew a knife on my father and stabbed him. What was he supposed to do? Give them his blessing and let them go?’ She was trembling with anger.

  ‘I was only stating facts, not defending their actions,’ he told her gently.

  ‘How could you want to be part of those people? How can you live among such immorality and violence?’

  ‘Those people are my blood but I’m not proud of what they did, Luz.’ Andrés leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. ‘Gypsies live by the navaja but so do many of the poor. It’s only part of who the gitanos are.’ He smiled a sardonic smile. ‘I cannot change the fact that my mother’s blood runs in my veins but it doesn’t matter what I say or do, you’re determined to paint me black as black, is that not so, Luz?’

  In her shock at his revelation, part of her knew she was being unfair to him in laying the past crimes of his family at his door, but it was too much to take in. Yet another layer of this man was being exposed that disturbed her beyond anything else he had said. His family had hurt her own, and presumably hated them still, and he had concealed his true identity from her since the first day they had met. There could only be one reason for that. But as Luz looked at him, she knew that the trembling she felt was modified by a different kind of passion, one that had always consumed her, and always would.

  His green gaze moved over her, holding her eyes captive. She felt it burn on her skin. Her pulse was going crazy, her senses ablaze with the need of him; he was sitting far too close for comfort. Guilt and confusion washed over her. Desire fought with fear and she turned her face away so as not to succumb.

  She was tired of fighting. ‘Please go away,’ she uttered thickly.

  ‘Why? You want me as much as I want you.’

  ‘That’s beside the point,’ she said angrily, staring straight ahead, concentrating determinedly on the dappled dark skies in front of her.

  ‘I love you, Luz. I can’t live without you. I want to marry you,’ he whispered miserably.

  ‘What sort of love can you base on deceit?’ she retorted hotly, turning back to face him, the sapphire blue of her
eyes now a stormy grey.

  ‘I need to tell you everything before I can go.’ His voice was shaky and he was trembling. ‘Don’t think this confession is easy for me. God knows how much I have been dreading this moment of truth. And there’s more.’

  ‘Don’t bother explaining, I can guess,’ she sneered. ‘You were taking your revenge for what my father did to your mother. Right?’

  There was a silence. ‘It was not quite like that,’ he told her carefully. ‘My mother wanted me to make you fall in love with me and then leave you, in the same way your father left her. I went along with her game because I knew that you would be mine anyway. She had no idea I had met you already, or that we were seeing each other and had fallen in love.’ He was still watching her face. ‘I made sure that Leandro moved into the shadows very early on and Andrés took over.’

  Luz’s eyes widened. ‘You must be really proud of yourself,’ she declared quietly. ‘Not only did you manage to deceive me but you’ve also hoodwinked your own mother. What will she say when you tell her you want to marry me? Or are you planning to lie about that, too?’ Her savage stare hit him head-on and he started painfully.

  ‘My mother’s dead, Luz,’ he explained in a strained voice. ‘She was dying of cancer and didn’t have long when she demanded I carry out her vengeance. She died a few days ago – that’s why I wasn’t able to keep our date and why I was unreachable.’

  For a few seconds Luz was nonplussed, not knowing what to say. Absence carries its reasons, that’s what her own mother had said. It seemed she was right. Luz’s features finally relaxed.

  ‘I’m sorry, that must be hard for you,’ she uttered softly. Forgetting herself, she covered his hand with her palm.

  Within seconds he had pulled her to him and his mouth was on hers, fiercely coaxing. She had no time to breathe, to think, to resist. Temptation fuelled her already stirred senses, her own unabashed desire overwhelming the sense of betrayal that still gashed her heart. With a catch of her breath that merged into a sob, she felt her body yield to his touch, pliable as a liana, the better to feel him. She kissed him back hungrily, releasing all the love, the pent-up fever that had tortured her days and nights since they had last been together.

  Still kissing her, Andrés moved her on to his lap and his hand slid inside her nightwear. His deft fingers found the swollen curve of one breast. Luz cried out as she felt the heat of his fingers on her skin. She was aware of how badly he wanted her when he pulled her closer and his hardness throbbed against her, begging for relief.

  Tears rained inside her as a part of her wept for the vain hope of their love. She tried to remind herself of why she must put any thought of Andrés out of her mind; of what she would be letting herself in for if she submitted to the urge threatening to overtake her. But she had no future with Andrés. She loved him more than life itself, every inch of her craved him, but how could she build a future with someone who had betrayed her so profoundly?

  Still, she was weak. She had no will when he kissed and stroked her the way he was doing now. Damned either way, she was drowning in the flood of sensations his caresses were creating; the dampness between her thighs and the ache of her flesh told her she was defeated. Her desire for him to take her, fill her, make her his own possessed her to the exclusion of everything else – so what use was fighting?

  Would she ever be able to let her hands roam wantonly over another man as they were now doing with Andrés? She could feel him quiver with pleasure under her exploring fingers in the knowledge that she held as much power over him as he did over her. Would she ever again know the erotic excitement of experiencing her love so freely, so sensuously? There were no secrets now, no inhibitions as her mouth moved over his. They were attuned to each other, discovering hidden places that aroused them both to fever pitch, giving and taking with equal hunger and urgency. There was an almost hopeless desperation in the way she touched his face and curled her fingers tightly in his hair. How she loved the feel of his skin, the smell of him … every part of him.

  ‘I love you, quérida,’ he murmured between drinking in the sweetness of her kisses. ‘We’ll get married, and all this will be behind us for ever.’

  She pulled back abruptly, and looked at him in a daze before half-falling off his lap and taking a few steps away. A slight breeze came up from the sea; the atmosphere was warm and scented. Across the garden, beyond the trees and shrubs, the Atlantic glistened. The tall lighthouse of Cádiz harbour vied with the moon and stars in lighting up the night. There was a long line of ships tied together and anchored at the entrance to the port. Tiny launches lit with paper lanterns scuttled over the water, looking like children’s boats. The Puerto de Cádiz was busy tonight.

  She felt as if she were being dragged into an abyss, clinging to the edge of bittersweet memories before being swallowed whole.

  ‘No, Andrés,’ she told him, ‘tonight I will give myself to you for the last time. There’s no future for us, I could never trust you again. I love you but part of me hates you, too. I don’t think I could live with that.’ Her voice was flat, completely devoid of emotion; it was so strangely unfamiliar to her, she did not recognize the sound of it as she spoke, looking straight out to sea. It might tear her apart but this could be her only way of saying goodbye, just one last time.

  She heard him catch his breath as if smothering a gasp. Her heart was breaking for him, for her, for their beautiful love that now could never be. Marujita had won; the gitana had found her revenge.

  There was a hushed silence. ‘Hate is an ugly word, quérida,’ Andrés said, slowly and stiffly now. ‘There is nothing more I want, Luz, than to make you mine, now and forever, but if you won’t marry me then I can’t take what is not, and never will be, my right to take.’

  She turned back to face him, anger rising swiftly again, spurred on by his rejection. ‘You’ve made love to hundreds of women. You took me before. Not once, but so many times,’ she jeered. ‘What’s the difference?’

  He was standing now, his face distraught. ‘Before I met you my heart was closed, so I didn’t know any different. You opened it up with your innocence, your spontaneity and generosity. When we made love I was confident of your love, I had no reason to believe that one day we would not be together forever. Love doesn’t judge. Love forgives unconditionally. For me now, quérida, the act of love is not only a union of two bodies but the communion of two souls. I don’t want your body without your heart.’

  A small voice inside pleaded with her to think again before it was too late but the hurt was still too raw and too great for her to listen. In rejecting her, he had just poured oil on the fire that already blazed within her. Sanctimonious hypocrite, she thought. His words only served to humiliate her and make her feel cheap. How dare he insinuate that she was wanton and lustful? How dare he turn the tables so as to lay the failure of their relationship at her door!

  For a long moment no words came, just the storm fermenting deep inside Luz. Her mind was in a whirl and her heart began to thump in her breast. She had given him all that she had, and he had broken her. Only one need hung in the air now, to the exclusion of all else, and that was for him to disappear from her life. All the smouldering anger blazed up.

  ‘Get out! Go!’ she ordered, as though speaking to the most despicable creature she had ever seen, ‘and I hope I never set eyes on you again!’

  Andrés’ green eyes darkened fractionally. He regarded her silently for what seemed an age, tortured pain written on his face, reflecting her own agony inside, and then he went without a word.

  Numbly, Luz looked up at the tranquil starlit sky and then at the less tranquil but beautiful sea, shimmering like some live silver sheet under the caressing light of a misty moon. There were the passing ships, with lights twinkling from their mastheads and cabins, moving slowly out to sea, escaping towards new horizons.

  The very foundation of her world had been cracked wide open; it lay shattered around her and she had no idea how to mend it. She
envied those ships. For her the horizon was all fogged up. What new life could she escape to? How could she trust and love again after Andrés?

  She leant against the balustrade, head in her hands. Oh, what had she done? Twisted pride and oversensitivity had wrecked her love, and her life, and now only the relics of joyful bygone days were left for her to dwell on. Tears flooded her. She sobbed for her lost love for she knew that she had truly burnt her bridges now and there was no turning back. Grief and bitter disillusionment, not least in herself, seeped through every pore. Andrés had accepted that she never wanted to see him again. She could not bear the thought that he was forever lost to her. If only she could claw back her words. Her hands clenched hopelessly into fists.

  ‘Andrés, I love you,’ she cried with all her might into the darkness but he was already too far away to hear.

  * * *

  The following afternoon Alexandra and Salvador sat opposite their daughter in the comfortable living room of L’Estrella, listening intently as Luz told them most of what had happened over the past few days. Her parents had arrived for a flying visit on their way to see some old friends in Cádiz, who had procured a few horses and wanted Salvador’s advice, though Luz realized that their main agenda was to check in to see if she was all right. As soon as she saw them, she knew she would have to tell them the truth, no matter what their reaction. They were expecting to hear why Andrés had stood her up for dinner; they would never in a million years guess the terrible story behind it. Now, Luz sat cross-legged on the high-backed sofa, nervously playing with the cushion in her lap.