CHAPTER NINE
ROSALIE dressed with special care for her dinner with -Rafael. She was anxious to avoid any suggestion of a : Bohemian artist. Consuelo had at an earlier date pressed @ upon her a black dress which she had declared she had grown too stout to wear, and she was sure with a little alteration would fit Rosalie perfectly. Rosalie had accepted it with reluctance, observing that she would never have oc- . casion to wear a haute couture gown, for that was what it , was, but Consuelo would not be denied. Fortunately she had taken it in under her sister-in-law's supervision, who had said: 'You never know. The occasion may come, how do you say, out of the blue and you find you have nothing to wear.' And now it had fallen out of the blue and she was grate- ^ ful for Consuelo's foresight. The dress was made of crepe *; with a draped bodice and short sleeves, the skirt falling in @ graceful folds to the floor from a black and gold brocade sash. Rosalie saw with pleasure that it made her look slim and sophisticated. Rafael had never seen her in a good dress, nor a long one, only in the off-the-peg suits and little cheap frocks she had taken with her to Spain, and she was. a girl who repaid good dressing. She had her hair done in the morning, an unusual luxury; the hairdresser styled her coiffure with soft waves falling each side of her face, and shaped to her head. She possessed no jewels, only a necklet of garnets set in imitation gold, but it was pretty and looked weU with her dress. As she slipped on the gilt chain bracelet which held her watch, she thought 156 of the diamond one diat Consuelo had once worn. Rafael. I- must have received it, for Uncle George had told her he held his receipt for it. She wondered if he would mention it. "She did not mean to betray ever diat she, not Philip, had arranged for its return. , She descended to the vestibule in good time surmising that Rafael would come in a taxi, and it would cost francs -to keep it waiting. She had grown up with such small economies ^always in mind and thought of them automati,-cally. I The old man who acted as concierge wished her good evening and, being a Frenchman, appraised her with a criti' cal eye. It was not often that Mademoiselle Smith made a toilette and he obviously approved of die result. Rafael arrived punctually, looking distinguished in a black dinner jacket of more modem style than the white one he had worn at die parador. He carried a spray of orchids. ..Seeing him so dear and so familiar, Rosalie had to check an 'impulse to run into his arms. Apparendy he half expected _her to do so, for he lifted his to receive her, then mindful of the flowers and the watchful eyes of the concierge, he r dropped them and bowed ceremoniously. 'Buenos dias, Rosa.' ' 'Shouldn't it be good evening?' she asked archly. 'The evening is still the day.' He held out die orchids. 'These would look well on your dress.' She smiled up into his dark face. 'Pin them on me.' He came very close to her to fasten the flowers to the shoulder of her gown. She stood perfectly still under his fingers, which she noticed were unsteady. He swore beneath his breath as he pricked himself with the pin, and with an effort controlled their fumbling. Rosalie's eyes were danc157 ing with triumph, for he was not indifferent, he was excited by her proximity. The flowers in place, he offered her his arm and they went out into die scented Parisian night, where the spring blossoms on the trees overlaid with their perfume the odours of petrol and humanity. 'I have reserved a table at the Tour d'Argent,' he told her when they were seated in the taxi. 'Is that to your liking?' 'Isn't it a bit expensive?' she asked anxiously, for she did not want him to waste his money upon her. 'I'd be quite content with a Left Bank cafe.' 'You are not dressed for a cafe,' he told her, 'and this is an occasion, Rosa. I am not quite a pauper, you know, my estate prospers.' Sensing that her good intentions had been a little tactless, she hurriedly changed the subject. 'You didn't say what had brought you to Paris. You rarely come to France, do you?' 'No, but on this occasion I had business to transact which required my presence in person,' he told her with slight hauteur. Rosalie wondered if she had blundered again, the business might be no more than a pursuit of Lucille Lenoir, which would account for his hauteur, from his tone he resented her innocent question. They reached the restaurant and she went inside feeling a little dashed. She was expecting so much from this evening, and already diere seemed to be a constraint between them. Their table was set in front of a large window dirough which were visible the towers of Notre Dame across the river. Saying he would order for her, Rafael selected the most expensive dishes on the menu and a sparkling wine of 158 exhorbitant price. Glancing at her with challenge in his dark eyes, he told her: 'I refuse to economise tonight.' 'If you say so, Don Rafael, but might I enquire if you are trying to ruin yourself, and the prices here are ruinous, to prove something?' 'It is not every night that I have the privilege of entertaining the Pas heiress. Where does the red-bearded one take you?' 'Do you mean Jean Duprez?' She laughed. 'Jean doesn't take me anywhere, Don Rafael. The nearest we get to a meal out is bread and cheese and a bottle of vin ordinaire in the studio.' 'His studio, or yours?' Jean had never been in her attic, nor would she got out with him alone. What she was referring to were impromptu parties widi several of them together. Unable to resist stirring Rafael's jealousy, for she hoped diat was what had prompted the question, she dimpled and told him: 'Both.' He looked disapproving and muttered something about loose Bohemian ways, and abruptly she asked about the Condesa. 'She has gone to live widi cousins in Madrid,' he informed her. 'She finds town life more congenial in her declining years.' 'Las Aguilas was a bit isolated,' 'Las Aguilas is sold and half way towards being a rival to the Parador de Valpenza,' he told her tersely. 'But you said ...' 'A lot of foolish things,' he interrupted, smiling ruefully. 'Pride must give way to necessity. The proceeds I have invested in more land in Andalusia; with them and die sale 159 of the diamonds ...' He looked at her sharply. 'You know your brother sent the bracelet back to me?' 'I'm glad of that,' she exclaimed. 'But did you have to sell it? I mean ... shouldn't it have been kept for the next Santaella bride?' 'It was too old-fashioned for modern taste,' he returned. curtly. 'Possibly she would prefer a ring.' Rosalie eyed him anxiously, wondering if he had someone in mind, but he was not looking at her, but down at his plate devoting all his attention to his food. His long lashes made inky crescents on his olive cheeks, from which he had . shaved his sideburns. The light from the rose-shaded lamp on their table softened the contours of his face, making it appear more youthful, but she noticed diat there were silver hairs at his temples which had not been there before. He appeared more than ever like a Spanish grandee, and was die most distinguished-looking man in die restaurant. About to tell him that Philip had a son, Rosalie checked herself. Although he believed that her brother had returned the bracelet he had not wanted to meet him, so perhaps die subject of her relations was best avoided. Instead she en-quired about the Carvellos. Though he had not yet married Eloisa, they might be engaged. But Senorita Carvelio, it transpired, had married a wine exporter in Jerez and Luis was engaged to a local girl. 'I rarely see them,' he said. 'We were not really simpatica.' Rosalie felt a little sorry for Eloisa, so much effort to so little purpose, she was dismissed as not being simpatica. 'So if your mother is living in Madrid, you are all alone at die Casa Blanca?' she asked. 'Claro. But I am much occupied. As I was saying, widi die money from the Castillo and the bracelet I have in160 [creased my holding. I am breeding horses and black bulls.' |. 'Not... not bulls for the bullring?' @ 'Most assuredly for the corrida.' Again his eyes challenged her. 'We Spaniards are very cruel, you know.' | 'Only in some ways,' she murmured distressfully. ? He laughed. 'Don't look so upset, pequena, not many of :ffly bulls find their way into the ring@it is not a spectacle I -take any pleasure in, it is the tourist interest diat keeps it 'alive.' 'I don't believe you're cruel.' ; 'Not when I threatened to put chains on you?' ; 'You were under a misapprehension,' she said, quick to @defend him. His eyes glinted; 'Maybe, but there are still times when I would like to do so, though the shackles would not be of iron.' @This ambiguous remark seemed to be tending in die direction to which she wanted to lead him, but the waiter intervened with their sweet course, and when he had gone, Rafael said no more on diat
subject, but began to make some distasteful comments upon the very peculiar appearance of some of the other diners, whose fun clodies did not meet with his approval. Desiring to get the conversation back on to a more personal basis, Rosalie asked: 'Are you never lonely, or do horses and cattle suffice?' 'They compensate,' he returned. 'Do you need compensation, Don Rafael?' she asked provocatively. He raised his eyes to hers widi a depth of meaning in their velvet depths. 'Si, Rosa,' he said softly. She in her turn looked down at her plate. 161 'I meant it when I told you my share of my father's fortune is to be bestowed elsewhere,' she said quietly. 'I shall not go back upon my decision.' 'Would it surprise you if I tell you that what you do widi your fortune is of no interest to me whatever?' She looked up quickly to meet his satirical regard, and knew that he had guessed the diought diat had prompted her statement. She fidgeted with her bread roll, tempted to ask if he had anodier moneyed girl in view, but knew the question would be unpardonable. 'But you'd expect die girl you marry to have a dowry?' she murmured, and blushed, for her question suggested that she was considering herself as a candidate for that position. 'Not necessarily. I am doing well with my horses and herds.' He regarded her intently. 'You are obsessed by your inheritance, are you not? You hope by giving it away to free yourself from an encumbrance.' 'That's what it seems to me, and it isn't only me who has been obsessed by it.' 'That I can believe, but please do not include me among the obsessionists.' He drained his glass and set it down deliberately. 'It was not your money I wanted, Rosa,' he said quiedy. 'It was because of it diat I let you go. Contrary to what you supposed, I am not mercenary. It was your persistence in thinking diat I was diat so offended me.' 'To such an extent that you wouldn't say a word in your own defence?' The hovering waiter hastened to refill his glass. They both watched the golden liquid flowing from the bottle. Then as the man drew back, Rafael lifted his head proudly., 'The Condes of Las Aguilas do not deign to defend themselves, except with a sword, and you are a woman.' He smiled wryly. 'Besides, it would not have been any use. I 162 could see you were determined to upbraid me. I could not bear to bandy words with you. Words spoken in anger can inflict wounds that take long to heal.' She wished she could believe him. Money poisons everything, she thought drearily. Even now she could not be sure that he was not hoping she would retract her determination to dispose of her money. It was not too late, nothing could be done until she reached that fatal twenty-five years in a few weeks' time. All his fine words could not wholly convince her that he was unaware of that fact, and anxious to conciliate her before she had given it away. 'I am no longer a Conde,' he went on, looking at her steadily. 'It is senseless to perpetuate a tide without die lands belonging to it. I have become a simple Andaluslan farmer.' That made her laugh. Rafael could never be simple. 'You look the same to me,' she returned. 'And to me you will always appear a great gentleman.' She moved restlessly. 'What are you trying to say? Are you having ... second thoughts?' 'I have never changed in regard to you.' 'What precisely do you mean by that?' 'What I say.' The velvet eyes regarded, her intendy. 'But you have altered. You say you will not accept your money, but possibly you do not need it. You have an air of affluence. You sit there in a couture gown. (So he had recognised it for what it was and it was misleading him.) You look extremely lovely, enough to turn any man's head, and you are about to become famous. You have a splendid future before you, and I can hardly expect an Andalusian farm could content you now.' 'It might...' She paused, glancing at him coyly. 'Domesticity would seem so dull to you after all this.' He 163 waved a hand indicating the chattering diners, the glittering glass and silver on the tables, the shining napery and the view from die window. 'This isn't my right setting,' she informed him. 'And the dress was a gift. I live very simply in an attic studio and when I eat out it's in small cafes.' She became silent, reviewing all that he had said. Obliquely he had practically proposed again, but he had not yet said he loved her. Once the love words had slid glibly off his tongue, inspired she had believed by his desire for her wealth, for she could not believe that dien he had not had his eye upon her prospects, directed thidier by his scheming modier. 'You say you've not changed, Rafael,' she said gently, 'But before you proposed, wasn't die money uppermost in your mind?' He shook his head. 'Not in my mind, but in Mama's. You must not be hard on her, she was brought up to believe in marriages of convenience.' 'Yes, diat was obvious,' Rosalie observed drily. 'She would not have tolerated me for a moment if she hadn't an ulterior end in view.' The black widow who had torn the veil of illusion from her eyes and shattered her happiness. Watching her, Rafael asked: 'Do you remember the occasion when I asked you to go, before I offered you the position of my mother's companion?' 'Yes, very well, and very violent you were. I've always wondered why.' 'I was being torn in two. I wanted you to stay, but I thought it would be better for you to go. When I took you to Las Aguilas, I believed you were a cheap little tart. I meant to avenge myself on you, after which I would have 164 dismissed you with a present and contempt. But I was so very wrong. You were spirited and provocative, but underneadi you were innocent. No man had plucked my dewy rose, and I was ashamed of my intentions.' He turned his head away. 'I think I began to realise that before we had even reached the Castillo.' 'Yet you put me in diat vast bedroom and nearly scared me out of my wits.' 'My pobrecita, you have much to forgive.' She gave him a mischievous glance. 'It was quite ... exciting.' 'Was it, indeed?' His eyes glinted. 'It is not surprising you give a wrong impression, Rosa. One might almost suppose ...' He broke off and looked at her intently. 'I'm still unplucked, as you put it, if that's what you're wondering.' 'I was not,' he denied swiftly, almost too swiftly, she diought. 'Your conventionalism distrusts artists,' she told him. 'You think we lead a gay life, but mine has been anything but diat, just slog ... and memories.' 'I am glad you retained the memories,' he said eagerly. 'So they were not all bad?' 'Far from it.' 'That is encouraging. But to continue with my story ... explanation ... what you will. I am trying to make you understand all the cross-currents that governed my behaviour towards you, which must have seemed to you so inconsistent, did it not?' She nodded. 'Especially die finale, if all diat you've said is sincere.' 'Every word.' 'Then it was completely unnecessary. The break was 165 caused by that stupid pride of yours, Rafael. I was too hurt to pick my words, but you could have persuaded me...' " She looked at him reproachfully. So much pain could have been averted if he had tried. The scene was fixed indelibly in her memory, the proud, cold man, counting out the extra money needed to take her out of his life, money she had since returned and he had never acknowledged, her bitterness and heartbreak. 'I think not. I may be proud, but you are stubborn, Rosa. As I have said, that money of yours was an obsession. Nothing I said dien could have convinced you diat my feelings for you were genuine.' She thought back, recalling her emotions at that time. The wound the Condesa had inflicted had been too raw to be easily assuaged. 'Possibly that's true,' she admitted unwillingly. 'After I had presented you to Mama, and she was sure she had recognised you, she became determined that I should marry you. She had intended to reinstate die family dignities with Consuelo's money; having lost diat, she meant to make sure of yours. The companion idea was hers, she was certain you would jump at it. All the time she was urging me to make love to you, confident you would fall for my,' his mouth twisted, 'experienced technique. It would not have been difficult, Rosa, from the first when I met you in the road I found you desirable, but as I was beginning to have a very sincere regard for you, the whole scheme revolted me. I doubted if your happiness lay in a Spanish marriage@you would have to give up your independence, your nationality and the career which you were dreaming about, and I was ashamed to take advantage of your youth and inexperience. You saw me as a romantic figure and if you felt anything for me it was only a young girl's infatu166 ation. So though I wanted you to stay, I told you to go. But you didn't walk out as I expected you to do, you wished to delay your departure and threatened to go to the Guardia Civil unless I gave you compensation. I diought di
en diat you were as calculating as I had been, and you should take die consequences of whatever might befall, I would not try to save you.' (Bien, I have warned you, so on your head be it.' That cryptic sentence that had so puzzled her; the danger had been himself.) 'Then in Andalusia,' he went on, 'you seemed to fit in so well that I began to think that if I were patient I might win your lasting love and be able to make you happy. But I am not an impetuous boy to rush into an unsuitable union. Mama declared that you were ready to fall into my arms if I gave a sign, but I did not altogether trust her judgment. She was blinded by gold dust.' He smiled ruefully. 'She despised me as a woman,' Rosalie said bitterly. 'She was certain I could not hold you.' 'She told you diat?' 'Not to my face. I overheard her talking to Senora Carvelio. She deplored the necessity of an alliance with such a nondescript person as I was, and said you would soon tire of me and go elsewhere.' 'For Dios, Rosa, she libelled us both!' 'I believed her, then. But what happened Rafael? What brought you up to scratch?' 'Luis Carvelio. Mama warned me I might lose you to him, she said you were tired of waiting for me to declare myself. Then when I saw you together by the swimming pool, some demon of jealousy entered into me and ... well, you know the rest.' 'Yes,' she echoed, 'I know the rest.' 167 The rapture followed by swift disillusion. She could not risk such pain again, she must be very sure that this time Rafael was sincere. 'I shall have to think,' she said slowly. 'You see, I have tried hard to forget you.' She smiled wistfully. 'I wasn't very successful, but I have made a life of my own.' 'But you can still paint at the Casa Blanca. After all, it was Spain that inspired your masterpiece.' And you, she added to herself, but that was an inspiration that would not come again. It had been bom of pain and renunciation as most great works are. 'I will not press you now,' he told her gently. 'I shall be staying in Paris for a few days, but you-must give me a definite answer before I leave.' Rosalie was silent. Looking out of the window. A launch went by crowded with passengers, its brilliant lights reflected in the slowly moving water. In her mind's eye she saw the patio at the Casa Blanca, die pattern of die vineleaves on die white walls. She had been enraptured with the place, but would it have die same appeal after this lapse of time? Rafael had said diat she fitted well into that environment, but that had been the old Rosalie, not her present more sophisticated self. Love would bridge all difficulties of adjustment, but did Rafael really love her, or was he merely seeking a companion in his loneliness? A fair-haired girl at a nearby table rose to her feet, and seemed to be having some sort of disagreement with her escort. Her shrill petulant tones brought Rosalie's head round, and as she looked at her, she remembered Lucille Lenoir. As the couple left the restaurant, she said to Rafael: 'Where does the fair Mademoiselle Lenoir come into this? Isn't she offering you consolation?' 168 Under her eyelashes she watched him closely for some hint of guilt, but he showed none. 'She is staying at my hotel with her present ... er ... protector,' he said coolly. 'It was by chance we came into the exhibition together. I did not take her there. Her man, you see, dabbles in art, and he asked her to go and look at the pictures.' Seeing the doubt in her face, he exploded violently : 'Madre, Rosa, do you expect me to live like a cloistered monk on memories of what might have been? I am not an s artist dedicated to a cold muse. If a pretty woman shows ; she likes me, must I repulse her?' . 'She is pretty,' Rosalie said slowly, wondering how far ;the affair had gone. 'And is the picture dabbler complacent?' 'I have not tried to tempt his pretty lady to betray him.' he returned sternly. 'In fact it is he who insists upon enter| taining me, thus bringing us together. Paris is a lonely place ; without friends;' I Rosalie felt ashamed of her suspicions, but before she | could make amends, he went on: I 'Must we quarrel again and over such a trivial matter? It tis you I came to Paris to find, Rosa. Did not I tell you |hat?' y 'No, you said you had come on business that required the ^personal touch.' I'. 'Precisely@you were die business. I tried to forget you, JRosa, but it was not possible. You had got under my skin. |Your memory refused to be exorcised.' He looked at her |anxiously. 'But you, Rosa, are you hesitating because you fhave formed other attachments? I have heard your name coupled with the red-bearded artist whom you say you entertain in your studio, and painters have no morals.' I l69 'I'm afraid Jean's won't bear investigation,' she said laughing, 'but I assure you I keep him at a distance. Of course I know that friendship between men and women is something you can't understand in Spain.' 'We find it... improbable.' Rosalie played absendy with the stem of her wine glass. Rafael was jealous of Jean, he was a jealous man. Jealousy of Luis had provoked him into his former proposal, but she did not want this new jealousy to provoke anodier crisis. Rafael's reappearance had awakened her old love for him, but he had made her suffer with his pride and arrogance. If he had told her all that he had told her tonight before she left the Casa Blanca, how much she would have been spared. If he was not an impetuous boy, she was no longer an impulsive girl ready to be submerged in her first experience of passion. She needed to be very sure before she submitted to him again, and if she married him it would be for always. 'Jean Duprez is only an artist colleague,' she told him. 'I don't care two straws about him.' He returned gravely: 'I accept your assurance. You always were transparently honest, Rosa. As I said, I do not wish to rush you. You must think well and truly, for if you return to me, I will never let you go again.' Passion sounded in his deep vibrant voice as he spoke the last sentence. Glowed also in his dark eyes. Fascinated, Rosalie stared at him, on the verge of surrender. But she need not do so yet. He had given her time and though she had litde doubt of her decision, it would be pleasant to let him woo her keep him in suspense a litde longer, before she yielded entirely to his domination. 'Very well, Rafael,' she said demurely, 'I promise to do just that, and I won't try your patience too long.' He gave her a long considering look and Rosalie had to 170 |check an urge to tell him there was no need to wait. She |was his, as she had always been, but he still had not said in | actual words that he loved her. j He took her home in another taxi, and his hand sought j,for hers in the enclosing dark. She half feared, half longed |for him to kiss her. If he did that it would be die end of her | resistance, but apparently a taxi was too public for his 'Spanish propriety to attempt such an intimate demonstration. She had to content herself with his firm handclasp, ;and she remembered with a flash of amusement Luis de-scription of the conventional Spanish courtship. He was allowed to hold her hand for diree minutes in die cinema. Rafael held hers for much longer than that. The taxi was jammed in die Place de la Concorde, but she would not have minded if it had stayed there all night. The fountains dripped golden rain under the bright lights, @@ the facades of the famous buildings, and the central obelisk were floodlit. Paris was a city of magic to her tonight. [ As they neared Philip's apartment house, she said: ; 'You will have to make it up with my brother, you know, ;if...' ; 'I am prepared to do even that,' he promised. 'Even that,' she mocked him softly. 'Implacable Span@iard, aren't you?' . 'But you will teach me tolerance, wi queridita.' @ Then they were there, and he was handing her out of the taxi, and arming her in dirough the door. 'I won't ask you up to my eyrie,' she told him. 'It's late and...' She broke off, for she had been going to say, you wouldn't think it proper. But this was Paris, and perhaps Rafael did go up to girls' apartments. She did not know. He said courteously: 'It is late, and I must not keep me taxi waiting. Good 171 night@que deurmas bien.' Again he did not kiss her, and out of the tail of her eye . Rosalie saw die concierge was watching them. Feeling deprived she thought, he need not have minded that old man ' who must have seen many goodnight embraces. Instead he formally shook her hand, bowed and left her. Up in her room Rosalie was too excited to sleep. She wandered about her studio looking at her half-finished canvases. Would she ever finish them now? She had told Rafael that any woman could marry and have a child, wo-men who could not paint like she could, but it had been all bluff. As Rafael's wife and if so blessed the mother of his children she doubted if she would still want to paint; if she did it would become a mere hobby. The teleph
one rang. Rafael's voice: 'Are you in bed, Rosa?' 'I'm on my way.' 'Fool that I am, I never fixed our next meeting.' 'You said you were giving me time to think.' 'That does not mean I am to be deprived of your company. I said I would not press you. Where would you like to @ go? The opera? The Moulin Rouge? Or perhaps a bateau on the Seine@I believe we can dine on board.' : She decided upon the last. The next day promised to be ; fine, and it would be delightful to travel up the Seine dirough floodlit Paris; there would also be plenty of other : people on the launch. Unless she meant to capitulate at once, she dared not be alone with him. Less inhibited on the telephone, he poured out a flood of passionate Spanish, and Rosalie finally went to bed with his ^ love words still sounding in her ears, and a glow in her @; heart. Rafael de Santaella had at last said he loved her. 172 Next morning Rosalie took Alex for a walk in the little park that was situated near the apartment house. She often did dlis when she needed a breath of fresh air and Consuelo was glad that she should do so. Alex had passed his first birthday and was beginning to walk widi waddling stumbling steps, and make sounds diat were nearly words. He was very fond of Tante Ros. Rosalie wondered what language he would eventually speak@he was surrounded by Spanish, English and French. Probably a bit of each. She sat on a seat with his pushrchair beside her, while he investigated leaves and stones that were scattered on the padi, bringing each new find for her inspection with gurgles of glee. It never occurred to her that Rafael might be prowling in her vicinity, hoping for a glimpse of her@or to catch her out. She was dreaming of their meeting that evening and had decided diat she would resist him no longer. Tonight she would tell him that she desired .nothing more than to be his wife. Alex was standing by her knees, when Rafael came striding down the path, the child's chubby fingers clutching her slacks for support, while he babbled inarticulately and she supplemented their conversation with baby talk. Her face was soft and tender as she bent towards him. Soon, God willing, she would have a child of her own, and not a replica of Philip's blond handsomeness, but a dark Santaella. Rafael came to a halt in front of her before she noticed him. She looked up to meet a blaze of anger and incredulity. 'That is the baby you painted,' he accused her. 'He is yours, but you said you were not married.' Two pairs of similar grey eyes stared up at him in 173 startled surprise. Bewildered, Rosalie replied: 'But I'm not.' And then some imp of perversity entered into her, a crazy impulse to tease him for his lack of trust in her, before revealing that Alex was Consuelo's son. She said flippantly: 'It is not essential to be married to have a child.' The instant she saw the change in his face, she realised what her misplaced levity had done. It was livid, the black eyes full of contempt. The word he hurled at her in Spanish was one she had never dreamed diat any man would ever call her. Then he strode away before she could speak. She called wildly, 'Rafael!' but he did not turn, and was soon out of earshot. She sprang to her feet, for she must catch him and tell him whose child Alex was. She dumped the boy in his pushchair widiout waiting to fasten the straps and started in pursuit of that striding figure. Alex gave a wail of fright and indignation, tumbled out of die chair, and tried to follow her. He fell flat on his face and his wail became a roar. Rosalie stopped her headlong pursuit of Rafael. She must go back to the baby. He was her brother's precious son, the apple of Consuelo's eye. From the noise he was making he might be really hurt. Despairingly she glanced towards Rafael's rapidly disappearing figure and ran to pick up the child. 174
The willing hostage Page 10