Legacy

by Hannah Fielding

  Luna’s body tingled with that fearful excitement again. The force of Ruy’s personality was casting a spell on her as it always did and, suddenly, looking at him dressed as a mysterious prince, more exotically masculine than ever, not only did she doubt her ability to hold him back, she wasn’t sure she really wanted to. With unsteady fingers she made certain the narrow, glittering, white velvet mask was tightly fastened across her face. At least this way, she hoped the emotional hurricane assailing her would be safer from his scrutinizing gaze.

  Ruy halted on the step as if frozen in place. ‘Perfect,’ he murmured huskily. ‘A heavenly moonbeam.’

  He paused to don his turban, then his strong hand was at her elbow again as he led her through the handsome wooden doors, above which the family’s coat of arms was sculpted in the form of a peacock, in relief. They entered a vaulted hallway where a wrought-iron and marble staircase curved majestically up to the two storeys above. An old grandfather clock on the far wall had just begun to strike ten, and its organ-like chimes echoed loudly in the vast space, despite the sound of music and voices emanating from an adjoining room.

  Entranced, Luna gazed about her, admiring the rich decoration on the ceiling and embroidered tapestries on the walls, as well as the heavy, ornate Spanish medieval furniture. Great urns of flowers displayed at each end of the room scented the place with their cloying sweetness, and everywhere candlelight shimmered on the walls.

  Slowly she walked forward, her high heels resounding on the huge flagstones, her eyes eager to be everywhere at once. ‘What a magnificent home your family has! Back home we have grand houses too, especially in the South, where they’ve the old colonial plantations, but they lack history. I mean, it’s not the same as the castles of Scotland, the palazzi of Venice or the great châteaux of France.’ She waved a hand admiringly at her surroundings. ‘I mean, look at those wonderful Moorish carvings in the stonework. You have hundreds of years of history here.’

  A slight smile curved Ruy’s lips. ‘Did you acquire all this knowledge during those travels that kept you away from Spain?’ The gleam in his eyes was openly teasing.

  ‘No, I just like to read.’ Her crystalline laughter filled the room. ‘I’m definitely guilty of spending all my holidays exploring farflung places, though. It’s probably an American thing, a craving to see different cultures, immerse ourselves in history … I’ve always loved the history of art – European, Asian or African. Now that I’m in Spain, I intend to see more of it up close.’

  ‘One day I’ll take you to visit Puesta de Sol, the house of my grandfather, Eduardo, the one I told you about, who was an architect as well as a sculptor and painter. The style of La Gaviota looks very similar to his. I’m sure it must be a homage to his work.’

  ‘I’ve not heard of him but, if his other work looks anything like the beach house, then I’m sure I’d love it,’ said Luna, who had moved to the nearest wall and was studying a large painting of an aristocratic young Spanish woman.

  Ruy came to stand behind her. ‘My great grandmother, the Duquesa, Doña María Dolores de Falla,’ he explained. ‘A formidable woman by all accounts.’

  ‘Yes, I can see that,’ mused Luna, looking at the intelligent, dark eyes staring back at her. ‘She has such an air of dignified authority for someone so young.’

  Ruy chuckled. ‘She needed it, given the history of the de Fallas. In fact, we have a rather colourful family on both sides.’

  Luna glanced at him. ‘Why does that not surprise me?’

  He grinned. ‘Yes, it’s a miracle I’m sane, quite frankly. We’ll talk about architecture and my eccentric ancestors some other time, though. Let’s find the party.’

  He took Luna’s shawl and bag from her and gave it to the major-domo, who appeared suddenly out of the shadows, as if summoned by one of the genies of A Thousand and One Nights. Luna could hear the hum of voices and laughter coming from a doorway on the right, at the far end of the hall. A band was playing an achingly romantic Russian waltz, and her heart responded with a foolish twinge that made her dare not look at Ruy in case he somehow intuited her emotions.

  ‘Ah, there you are, Ruy! We were wondering what had happened to you,’ called out a distinguished-looking man in formal dress without a mask, coming slowly down the marble staircase. Tall, with a shock of snowy-white hair, his stature was imposing despite his advanced age. He must be in his eighties, Luna thought, but he still had plenty of charisma. His grey eyes, strikingly pale in a bronze complexion, were still lively and smilingly tender as he walked across to meet them.

  ‘Grandfather! I’m sorry we’re late, but the drive from Cádiz was slow. We really need a second bridge. It’ll be better once La Pepa is built.’

  ‘Well, you’re here now, Ruy. That’s the most important thing,’ his grandfather said cheerfully. ‘They’re a lively lot in there. I guess most of them are your friends,’ he added, as he slapped Ruy affectionately on the back. His attention moved politely now to Luna and he smiled at her benignly. ‘I don’t think we’ve met. Welcome, my dear.’

  Turning to his grandson he added: ‘I’ll not ask to be introduced to your very beautiful escort just now. The rules of the game are “incognito hasta la medianoche”, in disguise until midnight.’ His grey eyes twinkled at Luna with genial curiosity. ‘After that, I insist on knowing all about you.’

  Luna gave a gracious nod. ‘And I’d be delighted to return the compliment, Señor de Rueda.’

  He beamed at her. ‘Ah, the game is up already! Then again, it’s the host’s prerogative to be recognizable.’

  Ruy turned to Luna. ‘May I present my grandfather, Count Salvador de Rueda.’ He gestured towards Luna. ‘Abuelo, my guest for this evening. As you say, after midnight I look forward to divulging her identity.’

  ‘You will have to retain the advantage for a few more hours, señorita,’ said Salvador de Rueda, lifting Luna’s hand to kiss it.

  Luna raised an eyebrow to Ruy, as if to say teasingly, Are all your relatives so outrageously charming? Ruy answered silently with a mischievous cocked eyebrow of his own: ‘Of course, what did you expect?’

  Salvador held on to Ruy’s arm, patting his cheek playfully. ‘Don’t think I won’t be asking this charming young lady for a dance later, so you’d better not keep her all to yourself. There’s life in these old legs yet.’

  Ruy chuckled. ‘I don’t doubt it, Abuelo. You’re still strong as an ox and just as contrary. Speaking of which, when are we going to have lunch again? I’m missing your diatribes about the socialist government and how we’re all doomed.’

  His grandfather gestured with good-natured impatience and told Luna: ‘Oh, this one enjoys baiting me, and he knows it.’

  Luna smiled widely. ‘Ruy? Surely not.’ She made a show of innocent surprise, already deciding that she liked Salvador de Rueda very much indeed.

  Her host laughed in a throaty way that had a familiar ring to it. ‘I see she has the measure of you already,’ he said, nudging his grandson. ‘I mustn’t keep you from the party, though. Go and join the fun. Vamos, come now. On with your mask, Ruy!’

  Ruy grinned and pulled on his narrow black velvet mask. ‘What about yours, Abuelo?’

  ‘Oh yes, here it is.’ Salvador reached over to a handsomely carved hall table. ‘I took it off to read something upstairs and forgot to put it back on. This ball always brings back wonderful memories,’ he mused, fixing a moulded white-and-gold Venetian mask to his head. ‘Don’t forget to go and kiss your grandmother after midnight, Ruy. By the way, your parents are here. They were whizzing around the dancefloor when I last saw them.’

  He turned to Luna. ‘Welcome to El Pavón, señorita,’ he said, bowing his head a fraction. ‘I wonder if the legend of Kamar Al-Zaman and Princess Budur will be triggered again this year.’ He gave Ruy a knowing look and, with that, strode off, chuckling away to himself.

  ‘Your grandfather is rather wonderful,’ said Luna, watching Salvador walk away.

  ‘Yes, he
is. Not bad considering he’s over ninety now.’

  ‘Really?’ Luna’s eyes widened. ‘He’s very sprightly for his age.’

  Ruy moved to stand closer. ‘The men in our family are full of vitality,’ he said in a deadpan voice.

  She turned to see his expression alive with amusement. The band had struck up a tune in African-Brazilian lambada-style, with sizzling rhythms. He smiled into her eyes.

  ‘Come, let’s dance. My grandmother has only allowed us a few modern dances, and this is one of them.’

  ‘Doesn’t she approve of current music?’ asked Luna, watching a sudden influx of young couples hurry past to get to the dancefloor.

  ‘She’s rather old-fashioned and romantic. Usually insists on traditional dancing.’

  ‘In that case, why is she making an exception?’

  Ruy grinned. ‘Because I requested it, and she can’t refuse me anything.’

  Luna found herself smiling back at him. ‘Another thing that doesn’t surprise me.’

  He bent his head towards her. ‘I know I’m not supposed to say this, but I’ve been wanting to hold you in my arms since I first saw you at the taverna in Barcelona. Seeing you tonight, looking the way you do, has only increased that urge by an alarming ratio.’ His voice dropped. ‘If you don’t believe me, feel …’ He took Luna’s hand and held it to his heart. It was racing, thumping as hard as hers.

  She met the midnight-blue eyes that gazed back at her: dark, dangerous and loaded with the same pent-up desire that had haunted her too these past few days. Desire that she had steadily tried to deny. His hand settled in the small of her back and a shiver of anticipation rippled up her spine as he guided her down the hall towards the music.

  Luna and Ruy paused just for a moment in the arched doorway of the grand ballroom, watching the flamboyant spectacle spread out in front of them. Sparkling chandeliers and mirrored walls reflected a kaleidoscope of moving colour. Heavily masked men and women, their imaginations unleashed, each of them dressed in a magnificent costume, spun and swayed on the polished oak floor, taken up in a whirlwind of fantasy in which romance and mystique merged with a contemporary festival of eccentricity and delight.

  Without another word, Ruy dragged Luna into the midst of the twirling couples, joining their wild pace, swift and light as leaves caught up in a tempest of wind. Luna was as airy and delicate as thistledown, her long pale hair smooth and shimmering under the lights, the soft panels of her skirt billowing about Ruy’s legs as they wheeled around. Even though she didn’t know all the steps, he led her effortlessly, twirling her around him, and then, with a flick of his arm, bringing her back to the heat of his chest. His strong, inescapable arms held her tightly to him, so close the two of them seemed fused together.

  Luna was aware of the ragged beating of his heart through the silk of his tunic, the power and muscular dominance of his frame, his hardness pressing against her softness. It felt good; it felt right. When she looked up at him, she thought his eyes had flamed an even deeper blue behind his black velvet mask and she was hypnotized by the rapt intensity she read in them. Her face half-covered by her own shimmering disguise, she could almost imagine she were someone else, her inhibitions and fears forgotten in the magic woven around them.

  Instinctively, her body moved with his in a wanton responsiveness to his erotic command. His hips were in startling contact with hers, swaying fluidly and suggestively; sending her senses into mayhem. He crushed her breasts against his broad chest, and pressed the heat of his arousal against that part of her that wanted him most, his hand moving caressingly over her bare back. He wasn’t letting her go now, keeping her flush against his hard length. The mass of people on the dancefloor were a blur of whirling figures, the music a relentless rhythm. She closed her eyes and swallowed. Images crowded her mind. Her heart fluttered wildly at the thought of what that hard, sculpted body might feel like naked against her: his hot lips covering her in scalding kisses, his wonderful hands roaming inch after inch over her flesh, his long fingers sensually exploring, sending thrilling tremors through her body.

  Luna had never felt this rush of desire for any man. She was trembling, the vivid fantasy of him stirring her emotions to the core. Surges of unknown, overwhelming sensations invaded every part of her, sweetly agonizing. They were building uncontrollably inside; now the next wave rushing in, threatening to engulf her. Somewhere in her fevered mind, another part of her whispered a warning, but she was too faint with longing and too overwhelmed by an urgent need that she couldn’t control. There was only the call of Ruy’s power over her now, the feel of his warm cheek on her brow and the scorching heat between their bodies.

  Her head was spinning; her breath was coming in short pants and her limbs were turning to water as her loins flooded with delicious heat. Jolts of wild sensation rocked her, making her cling to him tightly. She was soaring in a heavenly, delirious dream and a moan escaped inadvertently from her lips.

  Trembling, Luna forced her eyes open. They were on the veranda, she realized, and Ruy was watching her, still holding her against him, his gaze smouldering. Transfixed, she looked directly into the attentive depths of his eyes, her stunned mind still reeling. Her face, that part of it which was visible below the mask, was white as ivory.

  ‘It’s alright, querida,’ Ruy whispered, warm breath against her ear, his face very close. ‘We were swept along by a powerful force that just kept intensifying. I felt it too. The ballroom was very hot. I thought you were going to faint. You just needed some air, so I brought you out here.’

  As her mind staggered back to consciousness, Luna was suddenly aware of what had happened to her and now she dared not meet his gaze. A hot flush ran up her face and she stepped free of his arms. In all her life, there had never been a moment more deeply humiliating. She knew how she must look to him, still drowning in the wanton passion pulsing through her. Instinctively, she smoothed a hand through her hair as she tried to regain her composure.

  Ruy’s eyes were still fixed on her as he gestured towards the dining area inside the house. ‘The buffet is open. Would you like to go in? We don’t need to sit down; we can bring our food out here. Or maybe you would prefer to take a walk in the garden and then later we’ll have something to eat.’

  From her vantage point on the terrace, Luna had a good view of the grand dining room through the tall open windows. It was ablaze with light, which showed up the rich decoration of the room, the plastered and painted ceiling and the lavish gold leaf of the pillars. People were standing around in small groups, clutching glasses and talking while they sipped champagne; others drifted across to the long buffet laid with shining chased silver and polished cut glass in an exquisite perfection of detail. Placed at intervals along the narrow table were exotic blooming flowers in crystal vases and vermeil bowls piled high with luscious fruit.

  Under the dazzling lights of the chandelier, the guests in their magnificent costumes looked like an exuberant flock of tropical birds. Noisy laughter and conversation filled the hot evening air. The effect was a strange buzzing of a million bees, a merry sound. There was no doubt that the El Pavón ball was a riotous success and its reputation as the event of the year was richly deserved.

  A few couples were now trooping out on to the terrace.

  ‘I’m not very hungry,’ Luna said, her face still flushed, ‘but don’t let me stop you from …’

  ‘Not hungry?’ intoned a deep voice behind them. ‘With all this delicious food laid out like a Roman banquet in there? Now that would be a shameful waste.’

  Luna looked round to see a tall, middle-aged man detach himself from a group of guests and come towards them, smiling. Dressed as a pirate, with a wide sash around his waist, the man sported a swashbuckling beard and moustache of distinguished grey, and wore a red silk mask tied behind his head, behind which brilliant green eyes gleamed. Even with a disguise he was clearly very handsome.

  ‘I see that new facial hair of yours has finally come into its own,’ R
uy quipped, greeting him with a brief hug.

  The other man shrugged. ‘Your mother can’t stand it. I only grew it for the party, so she says she’s going to shave it off herself tomorrow morning in case there’s a danger of my keeping it.’ He smiled at Luna, who saw a sudden resemblance to Ruy in his expression. It made her stop short and stare at the two men.

  ‘I rather think you may have given away your identity already. As that’s the case, let me introduce my guest for the evening … and this,’ he said to Luna, gesturing to the older man, ‘is my father, Andrés de Calderón.’

  ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you,’ said Luna, shaking his outstretched hand almost with relief. She welcomed a disruption to the intense charge still humming in the air between herself and Ruy. It provided a chance to gather her senses.

  ‘The pleasure is all mine,’ replied Andrés de Calderón suavely with a slight nod of his head. ‘I’m sure you’ll find it unavoidable meeting most of our family before midnight, senorita. And I’m sure the rest of us will be as enchanted to meet you as I am.’

  ‘She’s already met Abuelo.’ Ruy smiled at Luna. ‘And has made her first conquest of the evening. Well, perhaps not her first,’ he glanced at Luna, his mouth curving into a half-smile.

  Luna searched for a response but every time she looked at Ruy, she couldn’t help being distracted by that perfectly moulded mouth. Besides, she was still too disorientated by the memory of being in his arms to form coherent conversation.

  Andrés didn’t seem to notice her reticence. Instead, his bright eyes studied his son closely from behind his mask. ‘You look well, mi hijo,’ he said. ‘It’s good to see you bring a guest to the ball at long last. Your mother and I look forward to proper introductions after midnight.’ There was a hint of amusement in his voice that Luna added to her list of similarities between father and son.

  Ruy gave his father a pointed look. ‘Enough Papá. There’ll be plenty of time to get to know her. Tonight, please, introductions, not interrogations.’ He took a step closer to Luna. ‘Between the de Fallas and the de Ruedas, there’s enough of a force to frighten her away for good.’