Vendetta in Spain ddr-2

by Dennis Wheatley

  In a flash he saw the danger signal blazing red ahead. 'No,' he said firmly. 'Affection, yes; but love, no. Time is a great healer and I got over that.'

  Her Giaconda smile came again. 'You are lying, Armand. You are lying, and you know it.'

  'Dios/' he exclaimed, suddenly turning to look at her. 'You're right, of course. Seeing what passed between us that last night before I left for Granada - that indelible memory of you - how could I possibly be in your company day after day as I have been recently without again succumbing and desiring you most damnably?'

  She gave a low, happy laugh. 'I knew you would. But I had to have a little time to bring you to it. That is why I gave you such a cold reception on your arrival. If I hadn't you would have taken alarm and sheered off, wouldn't you?'

  T suppose I would,' he admitted a shade ruefully. 'But Gulia, though you may look an angel you are certainly a fallen one.

  Only a daughter of the Devil would have laid such a snare for anyone in such a position as myself.'

  'I'm nothing of the kind,' she laughed again. 'I am just a woman -a woman in search of a man. It so happens that I have a healthy, lovely body and a very much better brain than most members of my sex. I don't have to be told that, I know it; so why shouldn't I use my assets to secure a lover who is healthy, handsome and intelligent too - a man like you?'

  'I don't blame you. And I only wish it could be me.'

  'Well, why not?' She raised a well-marked eyebrow in faint mockery. 'Jos6 is thousands of miles away chasing butterflies - real butterflies this time. The de Tarancons are going home at the end of the week, and Francois is leaving too.'

  'Is he?' exclaimed de Richleau. 'Why?'

  'He has volunteered for service in Morocco, and is going out with the regiment of which last year Don Alfonso made him Colonel-in-Chief. He leaves with the Taranc6ns the day after tomorrow. Ruiz is in Madrid. He may return for a night or two occasionally but, apart from him, that leaves only Maria Alfonsine, her lady Dona Isabella and old Eulalia, and as far as human relationships are concerned they are all as blind as bats. Now that there will be room in the house, since I shall be so heavily chaperoned, no breath of scandal could arise if I invited you to come and stay, just as you did before.'

  The Duke put his head between his hands and groaned, 'Gulia! Gulia! When Thais tempted Paphuntius he was subjected to nothing worse than this. You are an experienced woman of the world and must know how greatly I desire you. I am flattered, too, terribly flattered that you should find me more desirable than other men. But you already know why I cannot allow myself to give way to this temptation.'

  'If your reason is still the same, an outmoded chivalry towards the husband who has no use for me,' she replied bitterly, 'then I wish you joy of your hair shirt. But why, in God's name, must you play the Puritan with me when you admit to having had affaires with other women?'

  'Because Jos6 is my friend. It is that which makes the barrier between us.'

  'Such scruples may have been valid three years ago. But in all that time you have not even exchanged a word with him. To continue in such an attitude is farcical. It is the behaviour of a Don Quixote - the sort of fool who tilts at windmills.'

  'You may be right,' de Richleau admitted miserably. 'But the fact that I have not seen Jose for three years makes no difference. If he were here he would still count me his friend; so how, without feeling eternal shame at myself, can I take you as my mistress behind his back?'

  For a while they were silent, then Gulia said quite calmly, 'Very well. I must accept your decision. There are plenty of other handsome, intelligent men who would willingly become my lover. When I next feel in the mood I'll look round and choose one. All the same I should be loath to lose your friendship. Are you willing that we should forget this conversation and continue to see one another as we have done during the past week?'

  He looked up quickly. 'Of course I am. Desire for you physically is only a part of the attraction you have for me. You are more beautiful than any work of art and I delight in looking at you; I love the sound of your voice and watching the workings of that quick mind of yours. I know that I am acting like a fool, but I just can't help it: and half a loaf is better than 110 bread. If you can forgive me for failing you as a lover and let me continue to be your friend I'll honour you all the more.'

  'So be it then.' She gave a sigh of resignation but at the same time smiled at him. 'Once more I'll put away my wicked dreams and try to look on you as a brother. I think I can promise, too, that I'll give you no cause for jealousy. With you about all other men will continue to seem poor game to me, so it's very unlikely that I'll take another lover until I return to Madrid in the autumn.'

  Coiling her Titian hair up into a bun she pulled her rubber cap over it, and added, Til play the game by refraining from tempting you further. But should you change your mind before we leave San Sebastian - well, let me know.'

  Before he had time to reply she had slid off the rock and was swimming for the shore.

  During the next few days and nights she was rarely out of de Richleau's thoughts. His conscience told him that he had done the right thing, but that was little consolation for having deprived himself of what he believed would have been two or three months that he would have been able to look back on as one of the high-spots of his life.

  He tried to excuse himself for having deprived her of the happiness she sought by arguing that it was not love that drove her to pursue him. Three years ago he believed that it had been. He felt sure that although she might have contemplated taking a lover before they met, she had not done so; and that a woman of her kind would have had to be in love before, for the first time, making up her mind to be unfaithful to her husband. That he, her husband's devoted friend, should have chanced to be the man on whom she had set her heart had been hard indeed.

  But now matters were different. Her love for him could not have endured since she admitted to taking four lovers. Now it could only be the aftermath of the old physical attraction that she felt. It was no longer love but lust that had caused her to renew her attempts to seduce him from his loyalty to his friend. The proof of that was the casual way in which she had spoken of taking another lover when she returned to Madrid in the autumn and in her reaction to his refusal to make her his mistress. If she had loved him she would have pleaded with him and burst into tears. Instead, she had taken his refusal quite calmly, and cynically told him that should he change his mind he had only to let her know.

  He asked himself then if he loved her, but about that he could not decide. She delighted him in so many ways, yet simply to be in her company was not enough; his whole being yearned for her embrace so that at times he actually felt a physical pain from it deep down in his body. And what was that if not lust? Yet where did lust end and love begin? It was an age-old problem and insoluble. He had to admit to himself that there could be little to choose between their feelings for each other and that it was unfair to her to assume that love played no part in her desire for him.

  On the Thursday evening there was a big farewell party at the villa for de Vendome, and on Friday morning they all went to the station to see him off. The de Taranc6ns left by the same train, but even after their departure Gulia continued to play the game as she had promised, neither going out of her way to be alone with de Richleau for a few moments, nor seeking to arouse his jealousy by flirting with other men who came to the bathing parties at the villa. Yet every now and then during these days he, perforce, caught her eye and was tortured by the knowledge that he had only to say the word for her to give him a secret rendezvous that would open the gates of heaven for them both.

  As he was so deeply committed to her social circle there was no way in which he could avoid meeting her daily as long as he remained in San Sebastian; so he seriously contemplated leaving the city, and would have done so but for his promise to remain there at Don Alfonso's disposal until the King should consider the time ripe to let him off his chain. It was therefore with relief t
hat on returning to his hotel on the Friday night after a dinner party given by the Dencases that he found a letter commanding him to lunch at the Palace next day, and for a few hours he was able to banish Gulia from his mind by searching it for people he had met in Barcelona who knew Ferrer.

  The lunch proved to be a men's party of only six, all of whom were soldiers, and before they went in to lunch the King said to de Richleau, T thought it would interest you to join us today, Duke, because we are going to discuss the campaign in Morocco. As you served with the French Army in North Africa you must be well acquainted with the sort of problems we are faced with, and may be able to offer us some sound advice.'

  De Richleau bowed his acknowledgements and as soon as they were seated at table the conversation became general. There could be no doubt that the war was most unpopular with the Spanish people and the King told his guests that he was being pressed by certain members of his Cabinet to give it up; but he had refused to do so. He then went on to express a view that was entirely new to the Duke, by saying:

  'The greatest tragedy that ever befell our country was the discovery of America by Columbus. Already in Ferdinand and Isabella's time we had secured a foothold in North Africa and once the Moors had been driven out of Spain that was our natural road to expansion. King Ferdinand realized it because being also King of Naples and Sicily the possession of Tunis was important to him. So, too, did Charles V, who was regarded as the champion of Christendom owing to the great expedition he led against the lairs of the Barbary corsairs. Again in Philip II's time, after Don John had defeated the Turks at Lepanto, we should have seized on the chance to break the power of the Sultans, Beys and Satraps in North Africa.

  'But during that century when Spain was at the height of her power the energies of her greatest captains were dissipated in the Americas. Admittedly we acquired vast territories and the gold and silver of Mexico and Peru. But what good did it do us? The result was an inflation of our currency that nearly ruined the commerce of the nation, and in the long run we had to spend more in costly expeditions to hold our gains than we got out of them in treasure.

  'And where are we today? The last of the American colonies has been lost to us and we have nothing left to show for our centuries of effort in bringing Christianity to the New World. If instead we had devoted those efforts to North Africa while we had the strength we would be the masters of the whole of it from the Libyan border to Casablanca.

  'Owing to our dynastic troubles and lack of a forward policy during the nineteenth century, France got ahead of us and made both Algeria and a large part of Morocco her own. But the Anglo-French agreement of 1904 at least stipulated that should the Sultan of Morocco at any time fail to control his subjects, Spain should thereupon become the paramount power within her own sphere of influence. And that, gentlemen, I am determined to do. To fail in it would be to reduce our country permanently to the status of a second-class power.'

  Don Alfonso's generals heartily agreed with him and the progress of the campaign, so far, was discussed. After the meal they all adjourned to a room nearly the whole of one wall of which was covered with a great map of Morocco. There were many pins stuck in it carrying different coloured flags, indicating the position of the Spanish forces, and, as far as was known, those of the hordes of revolting tribesmen. General Linares gave an outline of the operations that were taking place and the King asked the other Generals in turn for their views. When they had given them he asked de Richleau if he had any comments and the Duke replied:

  'Your Majesty must pardon me if I appear to lay undue stress on the importance of my own arm, but in campaigns of this type the value of cavalry cannot be rated too highly. The enemy is not tied to roads and railheads, he does not need great masses of transport, siege trains, field hospitals and so on to be brought up before he can fight a battle. His mobility enables him to strike with maximum force at one point and only a few days later at another a hundred or more miles away from it. Battalions of infantry can rarely move fast enough to get at him; so their use is limited to holding valuable key points such as oases and valleys through the mountains in which advancing troops might otherwise be ambushed. You might, of course, use them with advantage if you built a series of blockhouses, as Lord Kitchener did in South Africa; but short of establishing such a chain of garrisons to split up the tribes so that they can be dealt with piecemeal in each area, only a force of cavalry at least equal in size to the enemy will enable you to take the initiative and engage him at times of your own choosing until he is finally defeated.'

  The Generals, knowing that de Richleau had been appointed a Chief Instructor at St. Cyr following his successes in desert warfare, listened to him with respect, and for over two hours the six men continued to discuss the finer points of the war against the hardy warriors of the Riff.

  Before the party broke up the Duke managed to get a private word with Don Alfonso, and said, 'I had hoped, Sir, that you had sent for me today to tell me that you were ready to let me off my chain.'

  The King smiled, but shook his head. 'No, my friend. It will be some weeks yet before I'll agree to your paying another visit to Barcelona. Please continue to amuse yourself here for a while longer.' And de Richleau felt that he had no alternative but to say that he would.

  As it was a Saturday, Conde Ruiz was at the Cordoba villa for the week-end, and Gulia had arranged a dinner party for that evening, to which she had invited de Richleau. When he got back to his hotel after the long session at the Palace, he was, therefore, much surprised to find a note from her which ran:

  A matter of deep concern to the family necessitates my cancelling tonight's dinner party, and for most of tomorrow I expect we shall be discussing measures that may have to be taken with regard to it. So please don't come out to the villa until bathing time on Monday morning. I look forward to seeing you then.

  The Duke naturally wondered what the cause of this upset could be, and the only thing he could think of was that the Banco de Coralles might be faced with some major financial crisis. That was certainly a possibility as Spain had not yet fully recovered from the drain made on her resources by the Spanish-American war, and the great expense now entailed by the war in Morocco was already forcing down the value of the peseta.

  If that was so, de Richleau thought, it was particularly unfortunate that de Cordoba was in South America and, even if recalled at once, could not be expected to arrive on the scene for at least three weeks; for Ruiz, although an intelligent man, was not a very forceful personality. It was Jose de Cordoba who really ran the great banking concern and whose brain would be needed to cope successfully with any considerable emergency.

  The words 'measures to be taken' in Gulia's note seemed to imply that her husband had appointed her as one of a family committee of Trustees to handle his affairs while he was abroad and - if a financial crisis was the trouble - they might be considering selling some part of the vast family estates to bolster up the Bank's credit. The Duke could only hope for all their sakes that his speculations had no foundation, and spent his time on Sunday with other friends.

  When on the Monday morning he arrived at the beach he found Gulia, the Infanta, the two duennas and two young couples who were friends of Gulia's already there, and he was relieved to see that the whole party seemed to be in good spirits. Conde Ruiz had taken the express back to Madrid that morning.

  It was not until they were in the sea that de Richleau had any chance for a private word with Gulia. Then, as they were swimming side by side, he said, 'I do hope that this family trouble you mentioned in your note to me was nothing very serious, and that you have succeeded in dealing with it.'

  Turning on her side she blew out a mouthful of water, then replied, T want to tell you about it, but this is no place to do so. Come back after the siesta. There will be no one else here then and we can talk. But I can't ask you to stay on to dinner.'

  More mystified than ever he returned to the town for lunch, whiled away the afternoon, then went ou
t to the villa again at five o'clock. Much to his surprise, instead of taking him through to the garden the butler showed him into the small library on the right of the hall. Gulia was sitting there doing nothing with her hands folded in her lap. There was no sign of Dona Eulalia.

  As soon as the door had closed behind him, he said, 'My dear, I've been quite worried about you. What is this mystery? Is there anything I can do to help?'

  Her face remained expressionless but her big dark eyes held his as she slowly shook her head. 'No, Armand. There is nothing that any of us can do. Jose is dead.'

  19

  When the Heart is Young

  For a moment de Richleau stared at her, hardly believing that he could have heard her aright, but she nodded and repeated, 'Jose is dead. Ruiz brought me the news on Friday night. When I got your message that you were commanded to lunch at the Palace on Saturday, so would bathe from the Casino beach instead of here that morning, I was glad that I didn't have to see you then. I needed a little time to get over the shock.'

  'But . . . But,' he stammered, 'why has no announcement been made? Why this morning's bathing party when the house should be in mourning? And you! Damn it, Gulia, you are dressed in pale blue!'

  'Come and sit down,' she said, 'and I'll tell you about it.'

  As he took a chair opposite to her, she went on, 'When Jose was out one day catching butterflies on the banks of the Amazon he was attacked by a puma and terribly mauled. With him he had only Patricio Lopex, the valet who has looked after him for years, and the Brazilian crew of the river boat he had hired for his expedition. Patricio and the natives did everything for him that they could, but before they could even get him to a township he died from his wounds. For most of the time, though, he remained conscious, and he was terribly worried about the Bank.'

  Gulia paused for a moment and asked for a cigarette. The Duke gave her one and lit it. Then she resumed. 'He had devoted his life to it, and from being quite a small private concern he made it into a great one. Everyone knew that he really was the Bank - its heart and brain - and when he realized that he was dying he was worried that the news of his death might cause a run on it.'