Destiny Decrees

by Margaret Mann

  ' You need have no fear that I shall make any demands on you after we are married.' His smile was faintly cruel as he took in her slimness beneath the fine material of her dress, and the shocked eyes drowning the pale oval of her face.

  You can't be serious, senhor, in this talk of marriage ! ' A flame of indignation burned in her, at his arrogant assumption of her compliance.

  I have never in my whole life been more serious.'

  Coralie shrank physically from his vehemence, and her heart hammered fiercely as she caught the determined glitter in his eyes.

  ' You forget,' she gasped, in your concern for your own affairs, that I am already engaged to be married.'

  Yet you wear no ring.' His tone verged on insolence. ' Do not be fooled any longer into thinking your Englishman's intentions are honest. Has he not already shattered your belief in him as a person of integrity? I doubt if he ever intended to marry you,'

  his voice grated.

  ' Are your own motives towards me any more honourable? Tell me the truth!'

  The stark moonlight outlined the harsh lines of his face as he glowered down on her.

  ' I do assure you,' he said quietly, ' that I am offering you marriage, not a string of empty promises. If my motives, as you call them, were any less honourable, I too would offer my terms without a ring for your finger.' Her temper flared to match his as her hand swung upwards to his face, only to be caught in his vice-like grip.

  I believe you would go to any lengths to safeguard your heritage,' she flared.

  ' You owe me this.' His fingers were gripping the tender skin of her wrist. He meant everything he said, and of course he was right—she owed him the debt of her life. A coldness crept through her. She would have to marry him! But what of his love for Elvira? Coralie did not voice the question aloud. There was no need. He would be prepared to give up all for the sake of his heritage.

  In the ensuing silence, she felt panic stirring in her again. It was absurd, this wild fluttering in her breast that made her feel like a trapped bird. She sensed his gypsy-dark eyes on her, and gave a little gasp at his strangely tormented countenance. It was natural that as lord of the manor, he should care more than anything for this wildly beautiful valley and its people, dedicating his life to their needs, consequently it struck Coralie forcibly that his smouldering eyes must reflect his bitterness at having to sacrifice his love for Elvira for the sake of his social status.

  ' I have no alternative but to offer you marriage.' There was positive dislike in his tone, ' but do not be afraid that I shall force the issue.' She received his remark in silence, staring at him through agonised eyes as if he were less than human. ' Surely my proposition is not so formidable as all that?' He spoke in the same level tones. smiling grimly at her stunned silence. How Coralie longed to challenge the calm

  exterior that masked his inner turmoil, but she had

  - promised Elvira not to tell Ricardo that she had learned the bitter truth of Peter's circumstances from her lips. Was the secondary motive for Ricardo's proposal connected with Peter's part in the game of subterfuge? she wondered despairingly.

  ' I suggest that you think the matter over while we spend a weekend in Lisbon. Jacques' suggestion of this jaunt to the capital was strangely providential. It removes us temporarily from a situation fraught with pitfalls, and by the time we arrive back here at the Quinta, I trust that you and I will have reached an understanding.'

  Coralie felt a twinge of pain that he should speak so ruthlessly of marriage to her, when her whole being cried out for even the smallest endearment from his lips—she who had always despised the weakness of girls who fell headlong into a love which could never be requited.

  CHAPTER X

  Coralie was glad that it had been arranged to make an early start on the drive to Lisbon. Through the length of two sleepless nights, she had lain thinking, her mind in a turmoil, though she had seen little of the man who had caused her insomnia since the evening he had dropped his heartless bombshell on her.

  By breakfast time she had recovered her spirits sufficiently to look forward with some measure of anticipation to the journey. Breakfast was served on the terrace and Coralie found it deserted as she ventured out tentatively through the French doors standing wide open to the breathtaking view which never failed to dispel her depression. She realised that she was no longer alone and turned to face the master of the Quinta das Torres with some trepidation. Dressed in cream slacks and a cream silk shirt, he was disturbingly handsome, and Coralie wished he had not appeared just then, and she could have enjoyed a relaxed meal. As their eyes met she gave him a half-startled look, becoming suddenly nervous and tongue tied as a small child.

  ' Bon dia.' He had the most attractive voice, she had to admit, despite its abruptness. Was it approval for her cool, lace-trimmed dress in the appraising eyes? she wondered. Her cheeks were flaming, and the sun on her hair had turned it to a firebrand, yet she was unaware of the startling picture she made; she was conscious only of the tempo of her increased pulse beats as she remembered how this heartbreakingly attractive man had proposed to her.

  ' What is troubling you?' he asked, frowning. How she wished Elvira would hurry down to breakfast!

  ' Do you think Elvira has overslept?' she murmured awkwardly.

  ' My dear Miss Grey, to Elvira time means nothing. She is a typical Portuguese woman with absolutely none of your English idea of doing things to time '

  Despite his air of nonchalance, Coralie was unnerved by the overlaid shaft of steel in his demeanour. Yet far from being annoyed at the delay in their departure that Elvira would cause, he seemed indulgently amused.

  They ate a light breakfast of fruit and rolls and sipped black aromatic coffee while Ricardo talked interestingly on the charms of Lisbon. In no way did he refer to his proposal of two days ago. It might all have been a figment of her imagination, Coralie thought in bewilderment.

  She was conscious of his eyes regarding her above the almost transparent rim of his coffee cup. They followed her gaze to the distant blue of the mountains, while with his usual perceptiveness he drawled:

  ' I believe the serras beckon you this morning, little one. You have no appetite for the city today?'

  Covered in confusion, she had to admit to this sentiment.

  There will be a festa held shortly in Monchique, a mountain village tucked away almost at the summit, with fantastic views of the Atlantic shimmering hundreds of feet below. We must arrange a visit while you are still new and impressionable in our country. Meanwhile do not underestimate the attractions of Lisbon. It is one of the most romantic capitals in the world.' Was it her overwrought imagination, Coralie wondered, or had he lingered over the word ' romantic '? She was about to retort that someone planning a marriage of convenience would be like a fish out of water in a romantic city; however, the sharp hoot of a horn, and the sound of car wheels scrunching on the gravel, diverted her. Jacques' lithe figure slid from behind the wheel of his exquisite sports car. He paused for a moment in the sunlight to remove his dark glasses, looking towards the Quinta with an expression of acute anticipation. In that moment he revealed an eagerness that heightened into a sudden surge of apparent intensity as he stood at the foot of the terrace steps and watched through the open door as Elvira swept gracefully down the curved staircase. Coralie watched discreetly to see if Ricardo had

  noticed the drama of the little scene.

  ' Good morning, Jacques. Why stand admiringly out there in the sun when there are chairs inside the veranda?' Coralie did not miss the almost imperceptible flicker of annoyance across the ice-cool features as Elvira's arctic glance took in the two earlier arrivals to breakfast. How do they say? The early bird catches the worm?' The Portuguese girl's flint-eyed glance barely flickered as she sank with practised grace into a wicker chair, yet it was sufficient to heighten Coralie's uneasiness.

  With an attempt at countering the charged atmosphere, Jacques spoke brightly.

  It was the Quinta
and its grounds I was admiring. You have a very beautiful estate here, senhor.' His speculative glance embraced the surrounding citrus groves and vine terraces. ' However, I must postpone any subsequent attempts at persuading you to allow me to film your wonderful heritage I received news this morning of some urgent business recalling me to France.'

  Elvira's faint elevation of an eyebrow was her only sign of surprise at his news She asked smoothly: When will you be leaving Portugal?'

  Jacques met her level gaze to reply evenly:

  ' Immediately we return from this weekend in Lisbon, I am afraid.'

  Despite Elvira's practised control, Coralie felt she had come very near to revealing her disillusionment at Jacques' announcement of his imminent departure. No doubt she was annoyed that he would not be around a long as she had hoped to provide an ardent rival for her affections. Had she planned to use the debonair Frenchman as bait to kindle the flame of jealousy and passion of the only man she intended to marry? It occurred to Coralie that this coming weekend was surely going to prove more difficult than she had anticipated, for without a doubt, Elvira intended to use every wile she possessed to make her conquest while the four of them were thrown into close proximity during the next few days. Yet illogically,

  Coralie felt the first wild surging of intolerable excitement at the anticipation of this dramatic interlude.

  A huge black limousine stood parked ready on the terrace outside. Coralie slid into the back seat of the car along with Jacques while Dom Ricardo took the wheel, with Elvira draped elegantly beside him.

  Ricardo drove at high speed through great rolling sweeps of farmland where the hot sun beat down in African splendour on league upon league of dark green cork-oaks.

  They stopped to picnic in fragrant pine-woods carpeted with the flowers of early spring As Coralie flung herself upon the silvery sand beneath the trees, she was grateful for the sea-breeze that lifted her heavy, bright hair, and fanned her flushed cheeks. She was more than ever aware of Elvira's cool, dark undishevelled beauty.

  ' Do you like open-air picnics, Miss Grey?' the Senhor enquired as he and Jacques unloaded the hamper.

  She nodded.

  ' I love them, but we didn't get the opportunity for such a heavenly picnic in England, the weather usually washed it out ! '

  Ricardo's white teeth gleamed in a humouring smile. He seemed suddenly to have forgotten that aloof dignity. He was almost gay and lighthearted and a charming host. This was a side of him that Coralie had never seen before. ' Then come and sample a Portuguese picnic.' His smile was wide and inviting.

  Before resuming the journey, while Elvira was in a dose the-a-tete with the Senhor, as he relaxed against the trunk of an umbrella pine, Coralie wandered off a little way, gathering a small nosegay of flowers to press.

  A shadow fell across her path. Coralie looked around and saw with surprise that it was Jacques.

  ' What a dark horse you are, Coralie '

  ' Me? Why?' His manner put her instantly on her guard.

  Come, surely you must know that your earlier association with Dom Ricardo is suddenly on the lips of every member of his household, and on those of his estate workers.' Coralie kept her pale gaze fixed on his taut lips. Why else do you imagine he agreed to this trip away from it all? I wonder, does this mean that Ricardo has proposed marriage to you?'

  You appear well informed, monsieur!' Coralie realised bitterly that Jacques looked relieved. That puts a new complexion on things for you, doesn't it?'

  His voice was low and filled with emotion as he answered. ' Yes. I must admit to being in love with Elvira—but I thought it was useless until the news of your imminent marriage to Dom Ricardo broke.'

  Marriage? There will be no marriage, I can assure you.' She struggled for composure. Oh, I know that to a roving Frenchman one marriage more or less is of little account, just as you seem to have lost your ardour for your girl back home in favour of a Portuguese beauty.'

  ' You are quite mistaken, cherie.' Jacques sighed heavily. ' It will no doubt surprise you to know that Elvira and I met some time ago when she was holidaying in France, when her husband was alive, but then I thought she was so far out of my reach, I did not dare to love her.'

  But now with the further obstacle of Dom Ricardo removed from the present scene, by a marriage of convenience to me, you think the field will he left clear for you at last!' Coralie flared. I am beginning to suspect that more people than Rafael have had a hand in rigging up this so-called " affair " between Dom Ricardo and myself.' Her eyes glittered dangerously. But you have wasted your time, all of you.' She turned away hopelessly. As for you, Jacques, Elvira would no more marry you than fly. She is merely flirting with you to arouse Dom Ricardo's jealousy. Don't you see, she is desperately in love with him, and he with her—'

  ' What nonsense!' Jacques' mouth compressed. 'Elvira is in love only with Ricardo's fortune, and the

  position she would hold as lady of the manor, do you say in England, but she would soon be bored with such a life. I can offer her the opportunity of life amid the social whirl—on which alone she thrives.' He paused and turned with a speculating look back to where the dark supple figure of Ricardo stood outlined against the pale green delicacy of Elvira's dress as she raised her head to his powerful stare. But as for Ricardo being in love with her,' he continued, his mouth tightening, ' I believe you are right.' With some hesitation he asked, ' Have you told Peter about this turn of events?'

  ' I would if I could! ' She wondered if this was strictly true. ' But as you know, he's—he's away and I haven't seen him yet—and anyhow, I intend to marry Peter regardless—that's why I came to Portugal.'

  Jacques regarded her with apparent misgivings.

  ' There's something I ought to tell you—I should have told you sooner. Peter's mistress undoubtedly knows of his whereabouts—a village girl of Pera, so Rafael says.'

  Afterwards, Coralie marvelled .at her iron control in view of the shock his words gave her, but all she could think of to say at that moment was, ' Does Dom Ricardo know of this?'

  ' I'm afraid so! '

  Now I know that you are out of your mind to believe I would possibly think of marrying him.' Her deceptive calm masked a seething rage.

  ' Just one more thing.' Jacques leaned forward and looked at her with some concern. ' Strangely enough, Elvira has not yet heard of your-er—compromising situation with Dom Ricardo, but when she does—'

  ' Elvira has already asked me to name my own terms for my removal back to England,' she said coldly.

  He took a sudden firm hold upon her wrists.

  ' Please, Coralie, don't insist on misunderstanding me. You know I am concerned about your welfare. You would be mad to marry this English scoundrel—or to go back to England—'

  ' What do you mean?'

  ' Don't interrupt, cherie. I am not stupid. Dom Ricardo has asked you to marry him. Am I right?' ' Yes.'

  ' And what was your answer? He does not behave towards you as if you were to be his future wife.'

  Since we are speaking frankly, my answer will always be the same—no!' she said obstinately. But he insists that I think it over this weekend.'

  ' Tres bien! You would be a fool to refuse him outright. It is a better match than I think you understand—besides, there are the rest of us to consider!' he added wickedly. ' I know you go about marriage in England in a different way, but this is Portugal—and time is so short. Do not deceive yourself that your English beau will marry you when he hears of all this—'

  Thank you, Jacques! But Dom Ricardo can keep his heritage—and his charity.' She jutted out her chin defensively and looked straight ahead of her.

  The Frenchman gave a curiously unconvincing shrug, and she allowed him to kiss her hand before they walked back to join the others.

  Coralie had never felt at such a loss, contriving to look cool and composed. At their approach, Dom Ricardo's sardonic gaze slid over her, reminding her of what lay between them. He must have witnessed the
gallant kiss of her hand, and misconstrued Jacques' intentions.

  On resuming their journey, Ricardo appeared more attentive than ever to the Portuguese girl, who responded with unconcealed sensuousness, sometimes dividing her attention between the two men, but with never a look or a word for the unpretentious English girl, desperately attempting to hide her secret hurts. Gone was the pleasurable anticipation of renewing her brief acquaintance with one of Europe's most romantic cities. Instead her excitement was replaced by foreboding.

  You're very quiet, Miss Grey. Are you feeling well?' enquired Ricardo's sardonic voice.

  ' Perhaps Jacques is neglecting her,' Elvira drawled.

  Ignoring Elvira's provocative remark, Coralie replied evenly,

  ' Yes, thank you, I'm enjoying the scenery.'

  Then we won't disturb you,' came Ricardo's suave ! reply. She caught his reflection through the driving mirror—and knew she hadn't imagined the look of hardening displeasure in the dark eyes, just before she caught the very white glint of his teeth as he smiled.

  Dom Ricardo sped on.

  Eventually the road threaded among delightful riverside towns and villages along the south side of the Tagus. Frequent ferry boats were transporting visitors down the river to the little places on its banks within easy reach of the city. Suddenly across the water there loomed an unforgettable view of Lisbon piled up on its wreath of nine hills, their deep valleys running down to the broad Tagus, the colour-washed houses attached like limpets to almost perpendicular cliffs.

  With bated breath, Coralie stared entranced, the events of her previous brief acquaintance with the city coming into heightened focus in her memory. She felt the perspiration in the palms of her hands at that fateful meeting with Dom Ricardo Casimiro Carvalho. Surely, her heart cried out, they would not stay in the same hotel as before—he could not be so cruel! But as if defining her thoughts the car turned out of the heavy traffic of Lisbon's main street, and drew up in front of a large white hotel with flowered balconies and shuttered windows.