She was up early next morning feeling curiously rested and content, but her ease of mind suffered a severe blow when she walked into the breakfast room to find Ramon already there, looking as if he had never left the rancho.
"When did you get in?" She sat down and nodded pleasantly at the maid who brought her coffee, turning her startled gaze then upon Ramon.
"Last night," he said quietly, "or rather, early this morning."
"I certainly never heard you!"
"That sounds rather like an accusation, although I am unsure what I am being accused of," he said with raised brows. "You were all asleep. I looked in on both you and Manuel."
"I don't need to be checked off on your list like a prisoner!" she snapped, uneasy to think that she had lain asleep as Ramon looked at her.
"I wondered if all was well, that is all. I normally check my treasures when I have been away. I used to check your safety when you were a child, every night," he added with emphasis. "You did not know that, did you?"
"I'm not a child now!" she stated flatly, letting her temper rise to cover the fact that her cheeks were slowly reddening.
"True," he agreed, watching her with intent narrowed eyes, "but you are more elusive and need a careful eye on you even now."
She couldn't think of anything to say but the day had not begun in a way that promised to be a joy. Her feeling of contentment had now gone completely and she waved away her breakfast, suddenly not hungry any more, as he continued to watch her silently for a few more seconds, his eyes on her lowered lashes and flushed cheeks.
"I have been giving a great deal of thought to the situation that we are in," he said at last in the deepening silence. "The obvious conclusion is that you remain here where Manuel can be with you constantly. It would be best if you resigned your position in England and simply stayed here at home."
"I must be having hearing problems," she said slowly, a numb cold beginning to seep into her body. "I really don't think that I understood that any too well'
"I imagine that you did," he stated coolly, "but I will repeat it. As we both know, Manuel needs you. Therefore it is a simple matter. Be here—permanently. There is absolutely no need for you to work. You have thrown my wealth in my face many times, why not make use of it? Anything you want can be yours. Manuel will be happy and things will settle down into normality."
"I seem to have two choices here," Meriel said carefully. "I can begin to laugh hysterically or I can fly into a temper. For now, I'll try to keep calm and behave in the reasonable manner of the Ortigas—coldly and logically—you know the form," she finished sarcastically, Her grip on her temper was very slight but she would not let him see how his off-hand suggestion had both hurt and frightened her. "In the first place, there is Manuel. He is not as devastated as you led me to believe. I'm quite sure that you can cope with him without any help from me, although I'll stay as long as I can. In the second place, I do not work merely for money, which means less to me than you could possibly imagine. I work because I want to. I have a career, a way of life and it does not include this house, this country, or you!"
"Your place is here!" Anger flared across his face and he stood up to tower over her. "Manuel needs you and you will remain!"
"He doesn't need me! He's perfectly normal! Grief passes and provided you keep your abominable relatives away from him he will be back to being himself within a few days. The hurt will die slowly but it will die."
"Is that what you found, Meriel?" he asked with angry quiet. "Your grief died? You haven't in all the years of your absence yearned for the llanos, for the house where you lived, or for me?"
"No! I grew up with a loud bang! Staying here is not living, not for me!"
"And you do not care about Manuel?"
"You know damned well that I care about him, but you— Ramon—I hate you!" She was shouting now, hurt at his words and thoughts flooding her with pain, and she too stood to face him. "I hate this place, this country, the very air that I'm forced to breathe here! There's no way that I'll even consider staying in Venezuela. The idea is the nearest thing to a nightmare that I can think of."
"I intend that you shall stay!" he bit out harshly. "If you do not agree to be reasonable, then I will personally telephone England and deal with your resignation!"
"Oh, no!" Meriel stopped shouting, a triumph coming into her face. "There are some things, some people who are far beyond your reach in spite of the Ortiga power and wealth, and I am one of them. Stewart Mackensie will take my resignation from me and from no one else. You can telephone England right now and the first thing that he'll do is to phone right back to me. He's not just my boss, Ramon, he loves me and one day, I'm going to marry him!"
"I think not!" he said with soft menace, reaching forward and grasping her wrist tightly. "You belong here and here is where you will stay!"
"I will stay for the rest of the week and then I leave," she said coldly. "I was prepared to stay as long as Manuel needed me, but now the situation is different. I've been a prisoner once in this house but I'll not creep back gently into that situation again. You may control the Ortiga wealth, the family, and temporarily, Manolito, but you do not control me! I was a fool to come back but I'll not make the same mistake ever again."
A faint noise in the doorway caught their attention and they both turned united in a gasp of regret to see Manuel, his face white and strained as he looked at them with pain deep in his eyes. He had heard everything, or at least, he had heard enough to be quite clear in his mind that Meriel would leave and that there was enmity between the two people he loved most in the word.
"Manolito!" Meriel's unhappy cry halted him as he turned to leave and he stopped, slowly raising dark eyes to her face. "Manolito, I'm sorry." She walked across to him and knelt on the floor, looking up into his face. "I didn't mean you to be hurt again, darling but I can't stay here now. You must release me from my promise, otherwise there'll be nothing but unhappiness."
"I know." He reached out and touched her hair, gently. "I didn't mean to listen, Merry, but perhaps it's better. I know now. I didn't realise that…'
"Come with me, Manolito!" she said in an urgent voice. "I'll take care of you and you like England. You can go to school there and be with other children instead of having a tutor. You'll not be lonely. We'll have fun. Come with me!"
He looked across at Ramon who had said not one word, had not cautioned or interrupted when Meriel had burst out with her sudden idea. For a second she watched as the two looked at each other and Ramon made no move to persuade the boy in any direction. She knew with certainty at that minute that if Manuel wished to go with her then Ramon would allow it and once again his attitude was a complete puzzle to her. She would have understood an outburst, had expected one. Instead, he was leaving the decision to a child.
"I cannot leave Venezuela and I cannot leave Ramon." There was all the determination in Manuel's voice that she had heard all her life from the Ortigas. "I am not lonely, Meriel, except that sometimes I am lonely for you. You are lonely here because you hate it but I love it most in the whole world. I have seen where you live and I understand."
"Your promise is given back. I—I only wish that-that you did not also hate Ramon."
He turned away and walked to his room and Meriel stayed where she was, still kneeling on the floor, her head bent in grief and defeat. He had always meant so very much to her, his love had been real when there had seemed to be no other happiness in her life. Memories of the delightful dark-eyed baby, the happy, cheerful toddler and the serious young brother who could suddenly burst into mischief filled her head and she knew that her anger and her outburst at Ramon had closed a chaptr in her life very firmly and left her lonelier for it.
"What will you do now?" Ramon was beside her and to her surprise he was no longer angry. He lifted her to her feet and stood looking down at her with shuttered eyes.
"I'll go back to England." She felt so weary that it seemed as if she had not slept at all. Defeat was
the only feeling that she could recognise although there were others. Her hasty words were uppermost in her mind and she did not hate Ramon, she loved him and his indifference to that love left her cold and lost.
"You will go soon?" His determination to keep her seemed to have gone and she could understand that only too well. Now that Manolito knew her feelings he would not be likely to believe that she was staying willingly. It was all hopeless as it had always been hopeless.
"I may as well… perhaps tomorrow. Things will never be the same now."
"It is you who have preached the sermon of healing," he reminded her quietly. "Do you then not believe in it after all? You think that there will be no healing between you and Manuel, between you and me?"
"Some things never heal," she said quietly. "I don't ever expect miracles."
She walked away and he let her go, not attempting either to speak or follow as she made her way back to her room, beyond tears, numb with the latest misery. The guilt she felt was almost unbearable. It would have been better if she had never returned. Manuel would have recovered well enough because he loved Ramon and his home. Carmen too would eventually have been dispatched as Meriel knew deep down. Ramon's love for his brother would have permitted very little leeway as far as Carmen or anyone else was concerned and he ruled the family like some prince from the past, his wealth and authority keeping in check relatives who were more than twice his age. Her coming here had only brought heartache both to herself and to Manuel and the gulf between herself and Ramon was now wider and deeper than it had ever been.
For half an hour she paced her room trying to think of a way out of this mess but nothing came that was of any use. Only her early return to England would help in any way and she finally tidied her face and went to seek Manuel. He at any rate could not be left to suffer by himself.
There was no answer to her knock on his door and she imagined that he was by now somewhere with Ramon. To be sure however she carefully opened the door worried that he was weeping quietly and afraid that she should know. He was not there and her eyes skimmed the well known room with regret. She would never again sit here and talk to Manolito, never again come hurrying along at the excited call when he needed her.
He had been writing and she wandered over to the bed to look, a half-smile of sadness on her face as she recognised his rather childish handwriting and the large sheet of paper that was part of a lined block he had bought in Caracas.
"Dear Merry." The sight of her own name startled her but as she read rapidly through it her face paled and she turned to the door in panic, one thought in her mind only, to find Ramon.
He was in his study, grim-faced and drawn-looking, but she could spare neither fear nor worry. All her fears were for Manuel.
"He's run away! Ramon! He's run away from the hacienda!"
She thrust the letter into his hand and turned to the door but he was upon her before she had taken two steps.
"Wait!" His hand was uncompromising and secured her to his side as they read the letter together.
"I cannot bear to see you go and I do not want to hear you quarrel yet again with Ramon. I have decided to run away for a while until you are gone. When I grow up I will find you again and we will be happy."
Ramon looked down into her white face for a second and then let her go.
"You will wait here," he said firmly. "I do not wish you to go roaming around the llanos searching for one small boy. I know him and I think I shall be able to find him quickly."
He left and at first she obeyed the terse order. She made no move to leave the study because it seemed that here where Ramon had been there was a sort of comfort and hope. His strength was still here in this room and at the moment she needed that strength badly.
The window was open and she looked out, leaning against the sill and going over in her mind how long it had been since Manuel had left the breakfast-room, how long it had taken to write that note. He could not be too far and Ramon should find him soon—unless he had taken a horse! Sure that his thought would also have occurred to Ramon she stayed where she was for a second but the need to take some action, the growing fear as Ramon failed to come back and the certainty in her own mind that Manuel had been hurt beyond healing by his realisation of her enmity with Ramon, finally drove Meriel to the open front door.
There was not a servant in sight and she knew that they too would have been sent to search for Manuel. She was the only inactive person here and it seemed to have been her fault all the time. There had been no need to shout and rave at Ramon. If he had not meant so much to her, her amusement would have been enough, but she would never be able to treat him in any way other than with deep emotion. She had brought all this upon herself and she was standing here useless.
From across the llanos came a sound that had never failed to raise the hairs on the back of her neck since she had heard it as a child and Ramon had explained what it was to strengthen his warning to her. She listened and sure enough it came again, the loud wailing cry of the jaguar—el tigre. It sounded like the call of some monstrous domestic cat but all the words of warning that Ramon had drummed into her came readily to her mind. She had never in all her time here seen el tigre, for the killer of the llanos took great care to avoid risks. For its size, the most powerful beast of prey in existence, it moved silently in the trees, dropping on its quarry after quiet deadly stalking.
The river! Out on the open savanna there was no place to hide. She remembered how easily Ramon had seen her so long ago when she too was a child. If Manuel had taken a horse he would know well that either Ramon or one of the llaneros, the skilled horsemen who worked on the rancho, would track him and outride him easily. But the river gave cover. It twisted and turned for miles, the trees a hiding place for more than a young child. She was suddenly quite certain that this was what Manuel had done and she raced down the steps at the front of the house towards the car she knew would be parked at the side.
It was there, dusty and dented and strangely comforting in its familiarity. With no thought but Manuel she jumped in and found the keys where they were always left, in the glove compartment. It started at once, noisy, dirty but utterly reliable, and for once she blessed Ramon's determination to keep everything as he wanted it. With this car the river was close, the tracks to it easy to see having been worn into the grasses over countless years by the steady trekking of the cattle.
She pulled out of the yard recognising her own state of nerves when she narrowly missed the gate-post, hearing the faint shout that came to her above the noise of the engine but too intent on her mission to pay any heed to it. She pulled off the main road that led to the nearby town and took to the rough track within a few yards and then it took all her concentration to keep the car straight on the bouncing rutted road. She had always somehow had in her mind the picture of these grasslands as they had looked to her as a child. Even though she had ridden here with Ramon, had seen the men moving the herds and watched with delight their skill and beauty in the saddle, still to her the river was as it had been on that day so long ago when she had learned of the existence of el tigre.
The river was a place out of bounds, a life-force for the grasslands but a place of terror. This much Ramon had instilled in her and it remained even now. She knew too why the men of the llanos referred to the jaguar as if there were only one—el tigre—as if it were one overpowering all-knowing creature that never died. It struck terror into all and though they would hunt it if it took cattle, they were rarely successful and took their own lives into their hands when they faced the cunning and silence of the cat of the llanos.
It was in front of her almost before she realised it, the wide river-bed, almost dry now but with a depth of bank and a width that said only too readily that floods would race through the length of it before too long. For a few yards she drove slowly along the bank-side but it was a hopeless task in the car. Manuel was not likely to come out and greet her if his intention was to hide, and keeping her eye on the rutted edg
e where the car ran dangerously close to the sheer fall into the river-bed while looking anxiously between the trees was an impossible task. She would never find him this way.
She stopped the engine and sat for a minute listening but there was no sound to tell her that anyone was there other than herself. There was the humming of insects, the faint sound of running water and the vast silence of the plains. She got out and stood by the car, her ears attuned to any sound that might be Manuel, searching with narrowed eyes along the stretch of the river close by. It was impossible to be sure whether anyone was here or not and she knew that if he chose to remain silent she would never find him.
"Manolito!" She shouted only once because the sound of her own voice into the silence was somehow shocking and frightening, and though she told herself that this was merely a river like any other, she knew perfectly well that it was not. Even so, she walked quietly along the bank, hoping that Manuel could see her and that he would come from his hiding-place and race towards her; but it became clear after a while that he was not about to do anything of the sort and she knew too that he might be at any place along the nearer length of the river. It would take a search party to find him, and coming here alone was a foolishness that Ramon would no doubt point out to her.
With a sigh she began to retrace her steps, thankful that the car was close by, the stillness beginning to oppress her, and then she heard a sound. It was faint, almost as if a hiding person had inadvertently moved and made an unexpected sound of annoyance. It was a mixture between a low grunt of exasperation and a sigh. She stopped, a few feet from the car, and looked around, listening hard, but what she saw was not her brother's face, not his dark pleading eyes. She looked up into the trees and saw the thing she had never seen, the rich reddish-yellow fur, marked with black rosettes, the long watchful eyes half closed and the ferocious mouth opened in a soundless snarl as the great fear of her childhood confronted her, el tigre, the killer of the plains, watching her with soulless eyes, his body lying so deceptively indolent along a branch, his thick tail hanging down, the end twitching slowly.
The Ortiga Marriage Page 9