Perchance to Marry

by Celine Conway

  “So well that I can’t feel it.”

  “I’m so glad you weren’t burned at all.”

  He smiled faintly. “My hair was singed and I’ll never be able to wear that suit again. Perhaps it was a good thing I hadn’t been drinking whisky.”

  Sally tried to smile back, but couldn’t. “Do they know how the fire began?”

  “It was arson—not to sabotage the fiesta, apparently, but to draw the police away from the coast. It seems that...”

  “Before you go any further,” she said in flat tones, “I’d better tell you something that ... that happened ... it must be a fortnight ago. You’re going to dislike this, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before, but...” her shoulders moved sadly, with resignation. “One morning—it was hardly light—Josef came here for me. He wakened me by tossing pebbles up here into the balcony, and begged me to go down to his house and help someone who was injured.”

  Marcus leaned forward, his eyes dark and narrow. “You went with him?”

  She nodded. “We ran over the hill and the dunes. I found that the injury was a gunshot wound. As soon as it was dressed the man cleared off in a launch. I half thought it was a naval launch, but heard there were none missing.”

  “That was strategy. Two were missing.” Marcus looked strained as he said, “You shouldn’t have gone with Josef; you know that. It was dangerous and very foolish.”

  “I do know it now. Josef was tremendously relieved to get rid of the man and begged me to say nothing about him. I didn’t make any promise, except that I did say I’d speak to him first if I felt it necessary to tell anyone; I’ve a feeling it’s too late to bother with that now. I want you to know that if there’d been any enquiries I’d have told all I knew; as there was nothing said, I decided I’d been mistaken about the launch and that it must have been a poacher in the fishing grounds—something like that.”

  “You actually did it for Josef,” he said. “Dressed the wound, kept silent about it, and so on?”

  Something in his voice warned Sally to be a little careful. “I’d have done it for anyone in a fix. The point I wanted to make was that the man with the wound was at the fiesta. He made some kind of sign to me and then disappeared. Since I’ve had time to think about it, I’ve felt he was warning me to get away from that spot. He knew the marquee was going to be set alight.”

  Marcus said tautly, “You’ve been near to great danger, and not only from the fire. Through Josef too. You’d better realize that.”

  She looked at him then for a moment, and what she saw turned her heart. Averting her gaze, she said, “It must have been ghastly for you, seeing it all and having to act. I was dazed with the suddenness of it, and Carlos kept me under sedation for a couple of days, so it all seems a bit unreal now. Can you tell me what was at the back of it all?”

  “It won’t be made public, but I feel you should know. From the time when the first launch was missing the Navy had a committee looking into things. I represented the island on that committee, and knew all the moves they were making. It was decided that as Josef was the newest arrival on San Palos he should be watched.” Marcus paused. “He didn’t want the ceramics factory, you know. He wanted a cottage near ,the sea and a good reason for staying there; it was something he’d never done before, so it had to have an obvious explanation—like ceramics.”

  “But what was he doing in the cottage?”

  “Making easy money. In his travels he’d met up with a man who handled the transport of displaced persons who had no passports. Their biggest problem was crossing the Mediterranean, and they solved it by picking on an island here and there and using some secluded bay till they were suspected, after which they cleared off. Josef had only been on the fringe of it, earning pin-money, but he was hard up, and when they needed a new base he recommended San Palos—which he knew intimately. Everything was done under cover of darkness; during the day, Josef tinkered with clay.”

  “Good heavens,” she said soberly. “Who were these displaced people?”

  “There are still a good many refugees about in Europe. Poorish, honest folk, most of them, though some of them do have enough money to buy a passage to a country where they could be swallowed up, unnoticed.”

  “But aren’t there societies that help them?”

  “They’re long-winded, I suppose, and when a man hears that money will buy him something he’s waited for for years, he gets hold of the cash somehow. This gang who have been handling the smuggling of men across different frontiers aren’t fundamentally bad. To them it’s an adventurous way of earning big money. When they let Josef team up with them, though, they showed a lamentable lack of judgment.”

  “Josef!” she whispered. “That wound on his head! And yet you can’t imagine him doing desperate deeds for money.”

  “Exactly,” said Marcus with irony. “He tried it, and failed. First he inadvertently holed the motor boat belonging to his companions and had to replace it. So, foolishly, he bribed someone to let him use a naval launch for one night. The launch was returned next day, and Josef, because, there was no outcry, blissfully considered himself quite a chap. But the man he was working with—a stranger on the island—had rather more about him. He could see that San Palos wasn’t going to be the sinecure he’d thought, so he arranged a grand coup for the night of the Lilac Fiesta. While everyone was drawn by the fiesta and the fire to the east of the island, the west coast could be used for the landing of about a dozen people without passports.”

  “Are they here?”

  “Not now. They’ve been sent to the mainland.”

  “You knew all about the plans?”

  He nodded. “Josef’s companions depended on him too much. He was picked up early that day and was frightened into confessing everything. After that it was easy to trap the others.”

  “And that man who’d been shot?”

  Marcus shrugged. “He considered himself the swashbuckling hero type. He wanted money, but without harming anyone. That was why he set fire to an empty tent. It was only after all the plans were laid and he daren’t back out that he realized how close you were to the blaze. That’s why he tried to warn you.”

  “You’ve ... spoken to him?”

  Marcus’s mouth was a straight line and his jaw muscles very prominent as he answered, “Yes. He was behind bars, or I’d have choked him.” He touched her hand, just for a second. “Their game is up—let’s forget them.”

  “But ... but what’s happened to Josef?”

  “You still care what happens to him?” he asked abruptly. “All right, then, you’d better hear the rest. He’s in custody, but he’ll probably get away with a heavy fine. As you know, he detests me, and it’s not likely he’ll come back to the island. Don’t feel sorry for him, for heaven’s sake!”

  She shook her head. “It’s unhappiness that makes a man of his kind take to shady projects. He doesn’t seem to belong anywhere. Is this his home—San Palos?”

  “Yes, I suppose it is.”

  “He claimed you as a distant connection, but you said there’s no relationship between you at all. Was he born here?”

  He hesitated. “He’s Katarina’s son.”

  Sally felt her skin go cold and a little clammy as she took in the implications of his unembellished statement. “Poor Katarina,” she murmured. “That explains such a lot. How is she taking this?”

  He sat back abruptly. “She’s had to do a bit of explaining, too. She was half aware of all that was going on, but daren’t do anything about it. At first she tried to get Josef to give it up, but there were things he wanted, things she could never have given him herself—and the money was attractive. Against her will, she was persuaded to do some pretty low things.”

  “Such as ... searching my room?”

  “I’m afraid so; she told me about it herself. And you remember her telling me that she’d heard you and Josef conversing in the early hours one morning? Well, he and she arranged that between them.”

  “It
’s incredible,” she said thinly. “She actually told you all this, without being asked?”

  “I insisted that she tell me everything, and I think she did.”

  “But did she say why she and Josef went to so much trouble? Why should he want to do so much against me?”

  “It was more against me than you,” Marcus said tersely. “The thing has quite a history. Josef is younger than I, but as boys we saw a good deal of each other. My grandmother had helped Katarina and she paid for Josef’s education. It was Katarina herself who, when he was ten, insisted on his being told that she was his mother; before that, he’d imagined himself more or less adopted by our family. The truth must have been quite a blow, because almost at once he started going wild.”

  “And he drew a parallel between you and himself,” said Sally slowly. “You were everything he wanted to be, and he considered himself rather less than every other boy. So he came to hate you.”

  “Maybe I could have been more tolerant, but it wouldn’t have done any good because he would have regarded it as a kind of charity. Katarina had shown him his true relationship to our family and it shocked him into loathing everyone. You’re probably right about his being unhappy, but even despair shouldn’t drive a man into crime. I daresay he’d come to the conclusion that money was the answer to everything. How little he knew!”

  This final exclamation left a brief silence behind it. Then, looking down at her hands, Sally said, “I think I understand about Josef now. Except that he and I ... well, in a way we were quite good friends. Why should he want to act against me?”

  “Josef couldn’t be good friends with anyone,” said Marcus sharply. “When he came here a year ago he ruined a romance simply because the man, someone he knew very well, was financially secure and very much in love. Luckily that particular case seems to be mending now. When he arrived this time he found that I’d become engaged, and I don’t doubt that it put him into a rage of jealousy. Everything he did was calculated to break off things between us. He couldn’t know, of course,” with a faintly bitter edge to his tones, “that there was nothing very tangible to sever. Anyway, Katarina told me that she had to search your room for something ... anything, that might give Josef a fact or two to work on. The first time she found nothing, but the second time she read some of your letters from England and discovered that I wasn’t mentioned in any of them. Josef stored that in his mind; he said that if he could manage to see Dona Inez alone he would tell her.”

  “His whole idea,” said Sally unsteadily, “seems to have been to make big money quickly and to shatter any happiness he might come across on his way. I pity him, very much.”

  “Maybe I’ll come round to pitying him one day,” Marcus said grimly, “but it isn’t pity I feel for him now. He deserves whatever he gets. And now let’s talk about something else.” His manner changed. “You said you wanted to speak to me.”

  “Yes. Yes, I do, but you’ll have to ... to give me a moment.”

  His voice deepened. “Don’t distress yourself, Sally. I’d rather wait a bit—even a few days.”

  “No, I have to say it soon, but all this about Josef and that man...”

  “Yes, I know.” He spoke steadily but gently. “I’ve something to tell you, too, and this may be a good time for it.” An almost imperceptible pause. “I didn’t go to Barcelona on business.”

  Her eyelids flickered, but her glance did not quite reach his face. She had to steel herself, so that whatever he’d decided about the future, she wouldn’t give herself away.

  “No?” she said politely.

  “No!” There was rather more force behind the syllable than one might have thought necessary. “I went there to see Nadine Carmody. She sent me a telegram and I answered it in person. The next day I saw her off on a plane, and it’s doubtful whether she and I will ever meet again.”

  “Oh, but you mustn’t!” Sally cried, a catch in her voice. “We’ve taken this whole thing too far. Dona Inez isn’t nearly so frail as she looks, and I happen to know that she wouldn’t care a bit if I faded out and Miss Carmody came on to the scene. So long as an engagement exists she won’t mind...”

  He was standing, suddenly, and staring down at her. “What the blazes are you talking about? I don’t want Nadine. There’s only one thing in the whole world that I do want—and that’s what I told Nadine when I met her. She was a flop in America—one generous mention in a small journal and silence from every other newspaper. She went on tour and couldn’t take it, and so she decided to patch things up between us. But there was never any chance of that. Even if I hadn’t met you, I wouldn’t have married Nadine. We were never properly engaged...”

  “But you were going to marry her.”

  He threw out a hand, almost irritably. “I went over to see her, with the possibility in mind. When I got there she was crazy about this chance in America, and I remember thinking, quite coldly, that that settled it, and that I was relieved. Nadine was good fun to take out, and as an antidote to the quiet life here the theatrical set was ideal. If Dona Inez hadn’t kept badgering me to marry...” He broke off. Then he said, “I had to go over to Barcelona; it was the only way to deal with Nadine effectively and finally. She didn’t like hearing that I was already engaged, but we parted amicably. She’ll get another part, and find someone else. The Nadines of this world always do.”

  “But, Marcus,” she said, hardly comprehending, “that was what I wanted to speak to you about. You see, I ... I knew you went to see Nadine. Josef brought me a copy of her telegram.”

  “Good God,” he said, and went pale with fury. “He really meant to tear us apart, didn’t he? And when I got back you didn’t say a word about it!”

  “I was waiting till after the fiesta,” she said tremulously. “I was going to tell you on Sunday morning. You see, I’d spoken to Dona Inez, sort of circled the point to find out as much as I could about her attitude towards me.”

  “So that’s what she meant! Twice she’s muttered something about having misunderstood how I felt and perhaps hurting you. Your narrow escape upset her badly, and on Sunday evening we found out that she’d come along to see you. After ensuring that you were sleeping normally she went a little lightheaded with relief.”

  “Oh, dear. One way and another I do seem to have caused a lot of trouble.”

  “That’s not true. The only trouble you’ve caused has been through keeping things to yourself. And though that’s the last thing I wanted to happen, it was probably my fault, because I knew just how vindictive Josef could be, and you didn’t.”

  “And there was ... Nadine,” she reminded him.

  “Since I’ve known you I’ve wondered why I ever bothered with Nadine. I hated even to hear you mention her. My feeling for you is so different from anything I’ve ever experienced before. It’s real ... and dammit, it’s horribly painful!”

  Sally didn’t know how to answer that. She could feel a burning spot on each cheekbone and a nerve twitching in her lower lip; her brain was fuddled, but a sort of hazy hope shone through the haze. The kind of hope you daren’t look at in case it vanishes.

  She tried to speak objectively. “I’ve been as sensible as I could. It did seem that events had rather run away with you—first of all that McCartney man on the ship, and then your grandmother’s precarious health. I was just a ... an accidental fiancée, and you weren’t in love with me—we weren’t even close friends. And I thought...”

  He took her shoulders and spoke down to her bent head. “From the first I liked you and rather enjoyed your mother. Viola must have told you that I meant to keep in close touch with you both. You’d been so shy and uneasy with me on the ship that I won’t pretend I thought we might marry some day. At that time, I only knew I wanted to see you again. But when people assumed we were genuinely engaged I saw you differently—I saw the sort of woman you’d become once you felt secure and beloved. But it wasn’t till I saw you and Carlos putting your heads together that I knew you were mine in every sense
of the word. I was actually jealous of Carlos. It was a nasty experience, and I’m not over it even yet.”

  She lifted her head. “But, Marcus, you could have told me all this!”

  “You wouldn’t have believed. You’d have decided that I’m the type to tell the woman I intended to marry that I loved her; you’d have decided it was part of the code by which I lived.” With a savage smile he added, “If I’ve learned little else about you, I’m pretty well up on the line your thoughts have taken about me. I think I’ve become familiar with the meaning of every turn of your head, every slightest change of tone.” The hands tightened on her shoulders. “I can still feel right here in the tips of my fingers the way you shrank from me when I fastened the necklet for you.”

  She drew in her lip. “Well, I ... I knew you couldn’t have bought it for me. You can’t get that sort of thing on San Palos.”

  There was a moment’s electric silence. Then with harsh distinctness he said, “It was ordered from our family jeweller in Madrid. I described exactly what I wanted and they sent it. It arrived here only two days before I gave it to you.” A long pause. Then: “I’ve been waiting a long time for the right moment to tell you I love you. I can’t wait any longer—I want you too much. No more shrinking from me, Sally. I won’t have it!”

  Sally closed her eyes and leaned forward against him, and for a few seconds he held her that way, his arms tight about her. But inevitably his urgent lips sought hers.

  It was quite some time later that she said, “Your rib must have healed remarkably quickly!”

  “Oh, it hurts,” he said, “but to hell with it. Physical pain is nothing at all compared to having your heart squeezed and twisted a dozen times a day. Each night since last Saturday I’ve lain in bed sweating back over those minutes when the flames were leaping round you, the way your skirt caught and flared.”

  “I was going to jump before the fire could reach me,” she said.