The willing hostage

by Elizabeth Ashton

  THE WILLING HOSTAGE Elizabeth Ashton

  Rosalie had no intention of letting anyone know she was an heiress. She had no wish to be married for her money, the way the imposing Conde Rafael de Santaela was about to marry his fiancee, Consuelo. So she had little sympathy with the Conde when her own brother eloped with Consuelo@but she had not expected the jilted bridegroom to kidnap her under the impression that she knew of the couple's whereabouts! Certainly she had never expected to fall in love with him. He would be quite capable of pretending to feel the same way about her,if he knew who she really was . . .

  Mills & Boon Paperbacks that please UNITED KINGDOM 25p net An P"^3 are subject to AUSTRALIA 80c* change without prior notice NEW ZEALAND 80c * Recommended but not obliiatory REP. OF IRELAND 26ip ISBN 0 263 71827 1 AH the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of His Author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual knwm or unknown to the Author, and. all the incidents we pure invention. First published This edition Elizabeth Ashton 1975 For copyright reasons, this book may not be issued on loan or otherwise except in its original soft cover. ISBN 0 263 71827 1 Made and Printed in Great Britain by Richard Clay {The Chaucer Press), Ltd., Bungay, Suffolk CHAPTER ONE

  THE Hotel Marques de Valpenza was en fete to celebrate an engagement party. One of the renovated Spanish castles that had been taken over by the government to turn into a parador, it had become famous throughout New Castile as a must for visitors to Spain@that is, the ones wealthy enough to afford its astronomical tariff. The last of the Valpenzas, possessing nothing except his mouldering home and his title deeds, had been thankful to relinquish his outdated marquisate and retire to a modest villa on the coast. His castle had been refurbished with skill and care to retain its mediaeval appearance, plus the necessary mod cons. The original tiltyard in its centre had been made into a patio ornamented with potted shrubs and coloured tiles, while an elegant fountain lifted a plumed jet in its centre. The baronial dining hall had been opened on to it on one side, separated from it by a wrought-iron grille, and the diners at the long refectory tables could view the fountain and the greenery through the delicate whorls 'of its black tracery. Standing on a bare hill top on the arid plateau of the meseta, the surrounding country had little to recommend it to sightseers, but the Valpenza was a convenient halting place on the long run from Madrid to Cadiz, and so popular had it become that the traveller had to book well in advance to be sure of a vacancy. It was always full during the season@too full, thought Rosalie Smith as she helped change the courses throughout the long elaborate meal. She and her brother Philip had been placed there by the agency to which they had applied for a temporary job in Spain. They had always wanted to visit Spain and had not the means to come as tourists, besides which they were both sick of their employment in a big supermarket and the uncertain English climate. Three months of Spanish sun was a lure they could not resist, but the position had been a little disappointing, for they found they were allowed little free time and the surrounding country was not very interesting, a seemingly endless and almost treeless plain, with occasional rocky eminences, with no town in their immediate vicinity, only a small village, and the Castillo de las Aguilas, which frowned at the parador, across the shallow valley that lay between them. Las Aguilas had not yet succumbed to the fate of the Valpenza, though rumour said its owner, the Conde Rafael de Santaella, was hard put to it to retain his ancient stronghold. Infinitely more forbidding than its renovated counterpart, Las Aguilas looked a fitting home for the eagles after which it was named, the whole estate being enclosed by a massive boundary wall, above which the distant towers of the Castillo proper brooded menacingly. 'But tonight the future looked brighter for Las Aguilas. Consuelo Nunez, but lately arrived from Peru, where her father had amassed a considerable fortune, was that evening celebrating her engagement to the impecunious Conde, who had met in the Peruvians in Madrid. The Nunez money would restore the crumbling magnificence of the castle, and Miguel Nunez was willing to overlook the bridegroom's lack of fortune in return for his blue blood, for the South American republican hankered after the old nobility, and was dismayed by his daughter's inclination to encourage handsome layabouts. He was anxious to settle her with a husband of his own choosing, and the Santaellas could boast of a pedigree a yard long. Originally he had wanted to buy Las Aguilas as an in-vestment, and that was how the couple had met. The haughty Conde had soon made it plain that his property was not available for commercial development, and then the dowager Condesa, his widowed mother, had suggested that a union between the two families might be advantageous to both parties, and so Senor Nunez had moved from Madrid to be near the Conde while he courted his daughter. The Smiths had been working there for a couple of weeks when they arrived. Most of the clientele was composed of British and Americans, for whose benefit Senor Gomez, the manager, had considered English-speaking .staff would be an asset. The impact of the lovely Pega^aan girT&pon the impressionable Philip Smith had been volcanic. She had huge dark eyes and ebony hair, contrasting with a matt white skin, nor was she above noticing the good-looking young waiter, whose fair good looks contrasted with her own colouring, and who was unable to disguise the admiration smouldering in his grey eyes. She had all the Latin woman's aptitude for intrigue and it was not long before Rosalie became aware that something was going on between them. Her sympathies were all with Consuelo, who, Philip told her, had not been consulted Agut her marriage, and was afraid of the sombre Conde, but there was nothing Philip could do to help her, and with sisterly concern Rosalie begged him not to become involved, for Nunez and the Conde could make life very unpleasant for him if they discovered that he had dared to make a pass at the beautiful Peruvian. Tonight Consuelo looiSd very lovely in a midnight blue dress that showed up her wonderful skin. Upon her wrist she wore a heavy diamond bracelet, a present from her fiance. He sat beside her, and as Rosalie had only glimpsed him in the distance previously, she observed him curiously. He had a long narrow face with a straight nose and thin lips that curved satirically. Fine dark eyes were shaded by falcon brows and his head was set arrogantly upon his shoulders. His was a stern, proud face, as became a Spanish grandee, and she remembered he was rumoured to have sworn he would destroy his Castillo before he would allow it to become a hotel. His manner towards his novia was courteous and cold. No one could imagine that there was any love between the couple, and Rosalie's heart was full of pity for the young bride, who hardly dared to speak to the formidable personage 'It's a damned shame,' Philip whispered to her vehemently, as they stood together in the shadow of a giant archway during a lull in their duties. 'It's sheer cruelty to throw that innocent to such a satyr!' For though Rafael de Santaella was unwed, the servants' gossip credited him with numerous affairs. 'Ssh!' Rosalie glanced over her shoulder. 'Be careful no one hears you. There's nothing we can do .to prevent it.' 'Don't be too sure of that!' - @ 'Phil!' Rosalie gla^^d at him anxiously, while preserving the immobile attitude necessary for an obsequious waitress. 'For heaven's sake don't do anything rash. Remember this is Spain.' 'I'm not likely to forget, but there are ways and means, even in Spain.' %^ 'But she thinks you're onlya^aiter;' Philip grinned mischievously^^^and Rosalie were twins, and very much alike, both had wide sga.e@d grey eyes and regular features, but whereas PhilipTshair was straw coloured, l^^lie's was a bright brown. The waiter's shortcoated uniform jacket and scarlet cummerbund showed off Philip's lithe, slender figure, and he carried himself with an air. At that moment his eyes held a daredevil glint. 'I told her I was a student,' he informed his sister, 'and that I had expectations. She knows lots of students do take this sort of work during their vacations. I said I was collecting mate
rial for a book on hotel life@it sounds more romantic than admitting a connection with a supermarket.' 'How could you deceive the poor girl? You know we never got to college, and as for being an author, Uncle would throw a fit.' 'More to the point if the old miser coughed up some dough,' Philip observed bitterly, and went to obey a signal for attention. Rosalie gave a long sigh. Philip was becoming rebellious with his circumstances, and tired of waiting for the money that would become his when he was twenty-five. Their father had been the head of a chain of supermarkets called Pas, which represented his initials. Philip Alexander Smith had amassed a fortune, but he had been disgusted by his colleagues' spoiled, indulged offspring, who rarely seemed to make good. He was determined that his own children should be brought up the hard way without privileges. As soon as they left school they had been made to serve in Pas, starting at the bottom, so that they should know the business from A to Z before they inherited his kingdom, and how could they learn better than by day-to-day contact with its customers? He died suddenly from overwork and overenthusiasm when they were twenty, still impervious to their pleas for a better life. His money was left in trust for them until they were twenty-five, and his brother George appointed trustee, with instructions that if they borrowed upon their expectations they were to be disi^^^ed. Rosalie and Philip were bitterly resentful oPfiy.s decree" especially Rosalie, who wanted to make a career^ in art. What little time and meagre funds she had she devoted to it. They both represented to Uncle George that it was absurd that they, the heirs of the great Pas empire, should be serving as cashiers in the store, and surely he could find a way to make them an allowance from the trust? But Uncle George was adamant; he must respect his brother's wishes, and five years were not long to wait. 'Only they happen to be the best years of our lives,' Philip had said angrily. The job in Spain had been taken in a mood of defiance, some two years later, and they half hoped their action would make him realise how desperately bored they were with the supermarket. Rosalie was still hankering after her art and Philip wanted to take up writing. But Uncle George remained unco-operative. As a business man he was suspicious of anything to do with the arts, and though the twins were no great asset to the staff of Pas it had been their father's wish that they should stay there. Since they insisted upon going to Spain, he could not stop them, but he declared they would be poisoned by oily food, get sunstroke, or be murdered by a semi-barbaric people. He told Rosalie, 'If you must persist in this tomfool idea, for heaven's sake don't let on who you are. Rich men's children are at risk from kidnappers nowadays, and I don't want to have to part with good money, your money, to get you back again. Luckily ours is one of the commonest names in the country, so you're not likely to be connected with Pas, unless you boast about it.' 'I certainly wouldn't want to do that,' she had told him tartly. She thought he was very ignorant about the Spanish 10 peninsular, which was so popular with English tourists. 'As for being recognised, nobody would dream I'm an heiress in the clothes I can afford.' 'And a good thing too!' 'But it's a bit hard. Uncle, to be so deprived@after all, .we're only young once.' 'Youth needs no expensive adornment,' he proclaimed sententiously, looking appreciatively at her fresh young face and graceful figure. 'And continental food can be fattening if you have the means to indulge. You will be better, and safer, if you're taken for a poor working girl.' Rosalie could have hit him; it was poor consolation to reflect that she would have to wait another three years before she could exercise her good taste in clothes, and give her mind seriously to her painting. In spite of the hard work they had enjoyed their stay at the parador, it was a welcome change from their former monotonous employment, until Consuelo Nunez arrived to cause complications. Now Philip was finding it harder every day to maintain his pose of a waiter, but he was wise enough to know that a story about wealth eventually coming to him would sound unconvincing, certainly to her father. Rosalie saw the ardent expression in his eyes as he bent to fill Consuelo's glass, and wished he would not betray his feelings so obviously, though it would never occur to Senor Nunez and the girl's noble fiance that there could be anything between Consuelo and a mere waiter. They made a charming couple, he so blond and debonair, she so darkly handsome, but her eyes were nearly as eloquent as his as she glanced up at him from under her lashes. Rosalie began to feel uneasy. Young hot blood could be so reckless, and this pair were courting disaster. Reflecting that she herself was an incipient heiress, she 11 supposed that Aere might be some sense in the provisions of her father's will after all. She could travel the breadth of Europe without danger from fortune-hunters, unlike the unlucky Consuelo who was being sold to gain an aristocratic connection, though she could not imagine Uncle George daring to try to arrange a marriage for her. But she had half.. hoped that here in Spain where no one knew her circum, stances, she might meet romance and have a passionate love affair with someone who loved her for herself alone, for that had become almost an obsession with her. Philip came to rest beside her again and she said out of the corner of her mouth, with a wary eye on the distant head waiter: 'Must you look at Senorita Nunez with your heart in your eyes? Someone might notice.' 'I don't care, so long as she does.' 'Phil, you can't be serious about a girl you've never spoken to.' 'That's all you know!' He flashed a mischievous glance at her. 'Waiters can go where other men fear to tread. She looks gorgeous in her negligee when I take her breakfast up to her.' Rosalie looked at the proud, cold face of Consuelo's betrothed and involuntarily shuddered. 'Do be discreet, the Conde looks capable of anything.' 'Except love,' Philip returned succinctly. , Then'it was time to change the courses, and they hurried to their duties. As Rosalie offered Rafael de Santaella the cheeseboard, she found herself very close to him. His skin was like old ivory and his hair and long sideburns jet silk. He smelled faintly of leather and expensive tobacco. The hand which indicated his preference was long-fingered and beautifully 12 shaped. He was dressed in a white short jacket and a black cummerbund. The jacket, though spotlessly clean, was a little worn at the seams. On the little finger of one hand was a ring shaped like a serpent with ruby eyes. The harsh planes of his face appealed to the artist in her. She would like to paint him as a conquistador, emphasising the ruthlessness indicated by his firm mouth and the arrogant curve of his nostrils. He fascinated her, even while he slightly repelled her. He was speaking to Senor Nunez in slow sonorous Spanish while she helped him to cheese, and his voice was deep and musical. Rosalie knew that he regarded her as a piece of animated furniture, and not as a person at all. The uniform for the maids at the hotel was a dark blue dress with white collars and cuffs, with the addition of frilly aprons and Dutch caps when they waited at table. The cos-. tume was becoming to her, emphasising her clear skin and slightly demure air. Suddenly she became aware that Consuelo was looking at her from the Conde's other side, and seeing her as a human being. Their eyes met and the Peruvian girl smiled. In spite of being expected to conduct herself like an automaton, Rosalie smiled back, and the Conde looked up at her, an insolent stare from fine dark eyes, but in their depths an expression that caused her to decide that Don Rafael deserved his reputation. He would not be indifferent to a pretty girl, whatever her standing, if he found himself alone with her. Hastily she moved on to the next diner, feeling oddly disturbed by the Conde's glance and dimly aware that his eyes were following her. Suddenly she resented her lowly position; by rights she should be one of the guests, seated at the long table wearing a dress as rich and becoming as Consuelo's. If he knew her true status and her prospective fortune, Don Rafael would be paying her deference instead 13 of giving her that insolent appraisal. Then she remembered her uncle's warning; it would only be heq fortune that could gain the interest of the haughty Don. The bracelet on Consuelo's wrist caught the light; the diamonds were very fine ones. It was the traditional gift from her fiance, and if he could give her such a magnificent token, Rosalie reflected, his finances could not be at such a low ebb, though possibly it was an heirloom that had not yet been pawned. Consuelo seemed to find it heavy, or perhaps she regarde
d it as a shackle, for she kept moving it on her wrist, and more than once her eyes sought Philip with a beseeching look. Rosalie hoped no one else had marked their covert glances. A liaison between her brother and the beautiful Peruvian girl could only spell disaster, nor would Uncle George approve of a foreign bride for the heir to the Smith empire, apart from the possible vengeance of the flouted Nunez-Santaella families. Though she sympathised with the lovers she could not condone their folly and hoped and prayed that Philip would do nothing rash. She comforted herself by considering that Consuelo would be too well brought up to commit any indiscretion, but as she watched those beautiful, passionate eyes, her comfort was shortlived. Also present was Teresa de Santaella, the dowager Condesa, who was receiving deferential attention from Miguel Nunez. She was very like her son, except that her expression was a little more human; her keen dark eyes were observant, and Rosalie wondered wretchedly if she had noticed the direction of Consuelo's glances. Women had a much keener nose for romance than men. Later there was dancing in the great hall that had once been a stronghold of the Christian knights of Spain in their battles against the Moors. Enlarged and redecorated, it still 14 pr" >; preserved some of its former atmosphere, with great beams : across its high ceiling and copies of old tapestries draping h its walls. L Don Rafael did not dance. He sat behind a painted [ screen deep in converse with Senor Nunez, smoking narrow :' black cigarillos and drinking Spanish wine. Their discus-L' sions were all of dowries and settlements and they seemed ft,'1 to have forgotten that the object of their planning was left *, unchaperoned, for the dowager Condesa had left immedi' ately after dinner. ' Rosalie was occupied clearing the remnants of the feast, : while the stout good-humoured peasant women washed up. .. Philip should have been in attendance upon the guests. The ; waiters in their smart short jackets and scarlet cummer: bunds threaded through the great room with their trays of l 'drinks balanced on one hand, but he was not among them. | Rosalie found an opportunity to peer through a service @ hatch at the swirling crowd of dancers, most of whom were ; visitors staying at the hotel, but nowhere could she discern " Consuelo's blue dress and the sparkle of her diamonds. -Her absence v/as explained later, when one of the Span; ish maids, Juana, told them that the Peruvian girl had retired with a headache and had given orders that on no account was she to be disturbed until she rang, she would probably sleep late next morning. 'Madre mia, she is a lucky one,' Juana added. 'We cannot sleep late however much our heads ache@and our feet, for that matter.' She eased her foot out of its shoe. 'Not so lucky to my thinking,' another girl declared. 'I would not like to have to marry that cold-looking Don. He is enough to give her a permanent headache!' 'Or heartache.' Juana shot a sly look at Rosalie. 'We know where her eyes are straying, and it's far away from 15 her novia.' Rosalie said quickly: 'My brother admires her, naturally, but he would never forget his place and hers.' Juana said solemnly, 'Then it is true, Rosa, that the English hombres are cold as ice?' Rosalie wondered how she could check this gossip which was circulating among her colleagues. 'Since my brother is a normal young man@@' she began, and Juana cut in with a giggle: 'Verily a real man, with a man's desires. I think the Senorita Nunez knows where they tend. I have heard them talking in her suite.' 'For heaven's sake don't broadcast it,' Rosalie cried, aghast. 'Me, I would not betray true lovers,' Juana said smugly. 'But it amazes me that the Senor Conde does not see what goes on under his nose. I would advise our good Felipe to walk warily, for if he did discover, his vengeance would be swift and terrible.' 'Why, what could he do?' Rosalie asked anxiously. But Juana became vague, murmuring that the Santaellas were famed for their vindictive tempers, and Rosalie surmised that her love of drama had exceeded fact. She had no idea in what form retribution would fall, only that she was certain it would fall. Don Rafael took his leave around midnight, which was early for Spain. Senor Nunez was driving him home, since his mother had returned in the Santaella vehicle. No doubt the news of his novia's headache had been given to him, and he had offered the appropriate condolences to her father. Rosalie, who had been despatched to fetch some aspirin for a queasy American, saw him go as she crossed the 16 marble vestibule in pursuance of her errand. Though no longer a very young man, he walked with a feline grace, and looked slim and debonair beside the Peruvian's stocky embonpoint. Again his black eyes raked her, as she sought to cross the vestibule unobtrusively, she suspected that he missed nothing of what went on around him, except, it would seem, Consuelo's indiscretions, but possibly his overweening pride would not allow him to suspect that she could be looking amorously at another man. Rosalie hastened into the great hall where the American awaited her, and heard the car start up as the two men went away, and involuntarily she drew a breath of relief. There was something oppressive in the presence of El Conde de las Aguilas. She shared a bare little room with the two Spanish girls and their nights were all too short. Fortunately the parador still respected the siesta, though an autocratic government had tried to declare it illegal, and the girls could have a nap in the afternoons. She was up at an early hour to help prepare the trays for those ladies who preferred to breakfast in their rooms. In the bustle of the big kitchen she did not perceive her brother, but that was unremarkable. Philip had been guilty of over-sleeping more than once. She remembered Consuelo's instructions, and supposed that without the incentive of waiting upon her, he had succumbed to sloth. . It was a day of blistering heat, and once the sun was above the horizon, the atmosphere became unpleasantly oppressive in the kitchen department which was not air-conditioned like the guest rooms of the hotel. Beyond the grounds the country simmered in the heat haze, bare arid stretches with an occasional drift of olive trees, their leaves drooping in the hot sun. There was no greenery anywhere, 17 the sparse grass lay shrivelled to a uniform brown, and die stream that ran through the shallow valley between the hotel and the castle had shrunk to a mere trickle. The high wall surrounding the Castillo de las Aguilas merged with the prevalent dun colour of the landscape, but the towers of the main building thrust their rugged strength into the white-hot sky, dominating the country round as they had done for centuries. When dusk fell they would fade into the night sky, for though the parador looked like a fairy palace with its floodlighting and coloured strings of bulbs, its .opposite number showed no illumination at all. Nor were there any trees or shrubs surrounding that grim erection. This morning, those in the hotel grounds were already wilting after their nightly douche. Artesian wells had been sunk to supply the parador with water through the months of drought and fill the swimming pool, but that was a luxury nowhere else within miles possessed. After lunch, when visitors and hotel alike were sunk in drowsy lethargy, die manager, Senor Gomez, called Rosalie to his office. Philip Smith had not been on duty all day. 'Me, I 'ave doubts about 'im, as soon as I see 'im,' he told her in his heavily accented English, 'but wiz zo many Inglese and Americano clients, it was well to 'ave zomeone who spek ze tongue better zan my villagers, but 'e 'as been lazy, and now, it zeems, 'e 'as walked out.' Rosalie's reaction was a feeling of relief. Though Philip had broken his contract with Senor Gomez, his departure would prevent any further complications with Senorita Nunez. Possibly he had gone because he had found the situation unendurable. She was a little hurt that he had not confided in her, but perhaps he thought it would be easier for her if she could plead ignorance of his intentions, since presumably she wished to complete the term of her en18 zgagement. So she reasoned, being well aware of the impulsive streak in her brother which caused him to act first and think afterwards. I 'He may only have taken a day off,' she suggested. ' 'Wiz'out permission? It will not do, Rosa. Of you I 'ave ^10 complaint to make, you are zo conscientious, but wiz 'im 'it is otherwise. I will not 'ave 'im back 'ere. I send for you 'because I t'ink you know vat 'e do, but I see you do not ;even know zat 'e 'as gone.' r Rosalie assured him that this was so, she did not know iwhere Philip was, not that he had intended leaving. She apologised for him a little perfunctorily, for she was thinking Senor Gomez had got his money's worth out of hi
m, @they had endured long hours of hard labour without much ?pay.; 'If we were not zo busy, I would not regret 'im,' Senor .Gomez told her. 'Madre mia, what is it?' ;@ For Senor Nunez had burst into the office without knocktog, his usually sleek hair on end, his broad face covered with a sickly pallor. 1" 'My daughter!' he gasped. 'She is not in her room, she cannot be found. No one has seen her since last night!' A dreadful suspicion occurred to Rosalie, but could 'Philip have really been so crazy? : This much greater calamity diverted attention from the missing waiter, and during the ensuing hullabaloo, Rosalie Heft the office, noting with relief that no one as yet had connected the two absentees with each other. She hoped they arould be well away before anyone did, but could they have gone far? Unless Consuelo had some ready cash available, Philip only had his meagre savings, which would not take them to any distance. , The police visited the hotel in the early evening, suspect19 ing a kidnapping. Staff and visitors were questioned, the former maintaining a loyal silence about their own surmises, but one of the visitors had noticed Consuelo in earnest conversation with the handsome young waiter in a corner of the garden. 'I thought it odd,' she told the policeman, for of course it was a woman. 'Since Spanish girls are usually carefully chaperoned, aren't they?' Rosalie was again questioned, but she insisted that she knew nothing and she certainly had no idea where the truants had gone. Privately she surmised that Philip would try to join his mother in Paris, where Mrs Smith resided comfortably upon her widow's jointure. Entirely under Philip Alexander's dominance, she had meekly acquiesced to his eccentric plans for their children's upbringing, and saw no reason to alter them now he was dead, but she had a soft spot for Philip, whom she loved more than her daughter, and Rosalie was sure she would give them shelter. But it was a long and expensive journey to Paris and it transpired Consuelo had not much money with her, and only a few trinkets. Her father took charge of her more valuable jewellery. The police were still inclined to favour their kidnapping theory; they could not believe an English waiter would have the audacity to elope with a Peruvian heiress. That was until Concepcion Lejos came back from Madrid to meet their barrage of questions. He owned the one taxi in the village adjoining the parador, and he admitted at once that he had driven a dona and a caballero to the capital during the night. The lady had paid him, and he had overheard the couple talking; they were planning to go out to the airfield after they had transacted some business with 'the diamonds'. Had the diamonds been stolen? Senor Nunez groaned. Consuelo had evidently disposed 20 of her betrothal bracelet to raise the funds for their journey. Since she was of age, actually a few months older than Philip, and had taken the passport which he had unwisely left in her keeping, there was nothing he could do. Nevertheless he went rushing off to Madrid, where possibly some hitch had delayed their departure. When the news filtered through to the staff, as of course it did, Rosalie was shocked. Since Consuelo had broken her engagement she should have returned the bracelet, strictly speaking it was not her property, and that she and Philip were spending the proceeds was distasteful to her. To use the hard-pressed Conde's treasure to finance their elopement showed a heartless disregard of his feelings, and after all, he had done the girl no harm. When Philip came into his inheritance, he should refund its worth, it was the least he could do, but she doubted if her feckless brother would spare a thought for the cold proud man he had so deeply wronged. The rest of the staff were excited and pleased by this romantic episode, for the Conde was not popular, and it was only Rosalie who gave him any thought. His pride and dignity must have been terribly affronted, and she knew enough of the Spanish character to know he would never forgive nor forget such an insult. Philip and Consuelo would be wise to keep out of Spain, and as long as they did so he would have no means of retaliation, even if he did discover their whereabouts. She found her eyes were constantly straying towards the castle, while she imagined its owner's reactions. He had not appeared during the police enquiry, leaving the outraged father to instigate the search. Juana reported to her that Dolores Lorca, who worked at the castle, had met her in the village and told her that the Conde had declared he wished 21 to have no further contact with either Miguel Nunez or his daughter. Her he had called bad names, saying he was thankful he had found her out before she had disgraced his name. This attitude, Rosalie decided, was what he would adopt to salve his pride, but he would not draw the line at calling Consuelo bad names if an opportunity for revenge presented itself. That she, as Philip's sister, might be vulnerable never crossed her mind. 22