Vendetta in Spain ddr-2

by Dennis Wheatley

  'Yes,' she murmured. 'It's true. But I beg you not to think too badly of me because of that. We have had such a wonderful time together. Think of the happiness I have given you. And your conscience, at least, is clear.'

  'My conscience!' he burst out. 'Yes, but not my reputation in your husband's eyes. Do you not realize that whatever may happen now he will regard me with contempt - as a man who has sullied his honour?'

  'Honour! Oh Armand, why must you men make so much of that? Surely love counts for more. You love me. I know you do.' Suddenly raising her arms she threw them round his neck.

  'Love you!' Breaking her hold he thrust her from him. 'After what you have done, how can I do anything else than despise you.'

  As she collapsed sobbing on her pillow, he angrily kicked the bedclothes aside, jumped out of bed and started to dress.

  By the time he was in his shirt and trousers she was sitting up again, watching him with tear-dimmed eyes. In a hoarse voice she spoke. 'Armand. This duel that he insists on fighting. It is I who have brought it on you. Oh, I pray to God that you will not be hurt. If you were killed I ... I'd never get over it. I . . . I. .

  He felt calmer now, and quickly reassured her. 'You've little need to let that worry you. I am used to arms, whereas he, poor devil, is only used to handling butterfly nets. There's one chance in a hundred that he might pip me at the regulation twenty paces, but no more.'

  Getting out of bed she stood in front of him, naked and as beautiful as Venus arisen from the foam. But her arms hung slack by her sides and her head was bowed. Choking back a sob she said:

  'I don't think I am a wanton. I have refused the pleading of scores of handsome men. That I am a wicked woman to have behaved so despicably towards you I confess. But love drove me to it, Armand. From the very first moment I saw you 1 knew you were the only man that I could ever love profoundly. I wanted you desperately - desperately. I did everything I could to get you. I even lied about Jos6.*He was very far from being a satisfactory husband, but I've no reason at all to believe that he really kept a mistress in Madrid. Yet you were too honourable to give way to my tempting. It was then the idea came to me that if I could only free you from your scruples I'd get my heart's desire. My plan succeeded. But it was born neither out of greed nor ordinary wantonness. If I died tonight I'd die happy in the knowledge that for just a few weeks in my life I had had you for my lover. And you returned my love, Armand. You know you did. Can you not possibly forgive me?'

  His heart melted within him. He suddenly felt that during the past quarter of an hour he had behaved towards her like a prig and a brute. Softly he said:

  T understand. Yes, I understand. And someone once said, "to understand all is to forgive all", didn't they. Anyway, I take back everything I said just now, and ask your forgiveness for it. Oh, my darling, what can I say to comfort you? It was I who, by putting honour before love, drove you to do as you did. That you should have had the strength and courage to carry through your purpose shows the depth of your feeling for me, and I humbly thank the gods that I should have been blessed with a love so great as yours.'

  She lifted her face to his and once more her eyes were shining. Gently, he took her in his arms. They kissed, but with all passion drained from them, as two beings who for a little time had dwelt in heaven together, and, whether or not they met again in this life, would forever remain long-time friends.

  Two minutes later he had put on his coat and left her. Down in the hall he found de Cordoba agitatedly pacing up and down. Without a word the Conde led the way into the small library. De Richleau followed him in. From the drawer of a bureau the Conde took an oblong mahogany box. Placing it on the centre table, he opened it, disclosing a pair of silver-mounted duelling pistols and compartments that contained cleaning materials and shot.

  'These will serve our purpose,' he said tonelessly. 'Be good enough to take your choice, and put a few bullets in your pocket.'

  'Surely,' protested the Duke in astonishment, 'you cannot be suggesting that we should fight here and now.'

  'No, down in the private bay. One could hardly find a better place to fight a duel than on its flat, firm sands, and it will take us only a few minutes to walk down there.'

  'But . . . But one cannot fight a duel without seconds, and a doctor within call.'

  'I see nothing against doing so.'

  'There is a great deal,' replied de Richleau promptly. 'However intense your resentment against me, Conde, I beg you to exercise a little patience. Put away these weapons for the time being. Although as the challenged party I have the right of choice I am willing to accept them. But allow me to return to my hotel. Send two of your friends to me there and I will ask two friends of mine to make proper arrangements with them. Then I will meet you at any time or place they may decide.'

  De Cordoba shook his head. 'No. We will go down to the shore and settle this matter without delay.'

  'But why this unseemly haste, Conde? Why?'

  'Because I have no mind to allow witnesses at this affair. You have sullied your honour, but mine remains unbesmirched. How could we fight in the presence of others yet prevent them from talking afterwards? Whatever pretext we might give them for our meeting they would suspect the truth. For you to have reached such a degree of intimacy with Gulia, you must first have been a great deal in her company. It will be said that she betrayed me with you and I found her out. I have the honour of my family to consider, and I refuse to submit to the humiliation of having my Condesa's name bandied about as that of a whore.'

  'That is the very last thing I would wish, either for her or for yourself,' the Duke agreed. 'But there are other considerations; and most serious ones. A duel is a duel and, although illegal, if carried out according to accepted traditions no serious notice is taken of it by the authorities. For two men to discharge pistols at one another when alone and, as might emerge later, with a cause for anger, is a very different matter. Should one of them have the misfortune to be killed the other would be accounted guilty of murder.'

  'That risk can be overcome,' replied the Conde stubbornly. 'I will leave a note on the hall table for my butler, asking him to have an early breakfast ready for us at seven o'clock, and saying that you and I have gone down to the shore to practise pistol shooting at the seagulls. Then, when it transpires that one of us has been wounded or killed it will be taken as an accident.'

  De Richleau shook his head. 'Such an explanation would not bear investigation. Is it likely that on returning from a long absence overseas, and before your household even knows that you are back, you would stroll down to the beach to practise with a pistol? And what am I supposed to have been doing here at this hour?'

  'I thought that at least you were a man of courage,' sneered the Conde. 'But your cowardice-is in keeping with the character of a wife-stealer.'

  The Duke's face suddenly went white and he said softly, 'You shall pay for that. To insist on this is the act of a fool. You are a fool, too, to have challenged me. I doubt if you could hit a haystack, whereas I could put a bullet through your brain at fifty yards. But you shall have your way. Your blood be on your own head.'

  Taking the nearest pistol from the case, he broke it, squinted down its barrel, slipped a few bullets into his pocket, and walked out of the room.

  De Cordoba followed him and caught him up. Side by side, maintaining a frigid silence, they walked along the path fringed with pines, tamarisks and myrtle that led down to the beach. The tide was going out and had left a quarter-mile-long stretch of smooth, clean sand. As they reached it and halted, the Conde said:

  'I have never before fought a duel, so I must request you to state in detail how we should proceed.'

  During their walk down to the shore de Richleau's anger had cooled, and he said quickly, 'Then why fight this one? I know that I have done you a great wrong, but for one of us to wound or kill the other cannot undo that which has been done. Will you not. . .'

  'No!' the Conde cut him short. 'One expects a certain f
railty in women, and in view of the relations between Gulia and myself I do not blame her overmuch. But men are made of sterner stuff. For you there can be no excuse, and with God's help I hope to punish you for your despicable behaviour.'

  'Very well, then. We load our pistols and stand back to back. I will ask you if you are ready. When you reply "Yes", I shall then say the one word, "March". On that we shall both walk ten paces away from one another then turn about face to face. Either of us may fire instantly upon turning, or hold his fire to take more careful aim. Ten paces, you understand. And may I suggest that when you take your stance to fire you should stand sideways, so that your body presents a minimum width of target to me.'

  'Thank you. I appreciate the chivalry you display in making that suggestion.'

  Having loaded his pistol with the single bullet that the duelling weapon held, de Richleau looked out over the bay. A sick nostalgia seized him as he thought of the many happy hours he had spent there with Gulia. Whatever might be the outcome of the duel he knew that never again would they swim there together or sit side by side talking and laughing on these golden sands. It had been for them an earthly paradise, and now her husband had come back, like an avenging angel with a flaming sword, to drive him out of it for ever.

  With a sharp word de Cordoba recalled him to the present. They took up their positions back to back. 'Are you ready?' asked the Duke. 'Yes,' replied the Conde. 'March,' cried de Richleau, and in swift strides each covered his ten paces.

  The Duke knew that if de Cordoba took a snap shot at him immediately upon turning, only by an extraordinary fluke could the bullet fail to go wide. Therefore, to have any hope of hitting him at all, the Conde must give at least ten seconds to taking aim. He, on the other hand, was a crack shot. Two seconds would be ample for him to draw a bead on his opponent and fire. In consequence, when walking down to the beach, he had decided to put a quick end to the matter by winging the Conde in his pistol arm before he had a chance to discharge his weapon.

  Yet now, at the last moment, he changed his mind. It was he who had wronged the Conde, unwittingly it was true, but that did not alter the fact. And there was always the chance that if he took a snap shot the bullet, instead of lodging in the Conde's arm or shoulder, might ride a trifle high, hit him in the neck, and kill him. When de Richleau recalled how de Cordoba had cared for him like a brother after Angela's death, and the way in which, after he had nearly died in Barcelona, he had been nursed back to health and strength in the villa, he felt that he could not bring himself to injure him, let alone take a chance that might rob him of his life.

  Five seconds after the two men turned the Duke fired, but he had deliberately aimed high. The bullet passed a good foot above de Cordoba's head. No longer having anything to fear the Conde took careful aim before pressing the trigger of his pistol, but the bullet whistled harmlessly past his adversary.

  The two men walked towards one another and de Richleau said, 'I have given you the opportunity you desired. I trust you are now satisfied.'

  'Certainly not!' the Conde replied in a still bitter tone. 'And I shall not be until one of us is too seriously wounded to continue. Let us reload.'

  With a resigned shrug the Duke again loaded his pistol. They followed the same procedure as before. Again de Richleau fired high, but this time de Cordpba's bullet tore a little strip of cloth from his coat low down near the thigh.

  Grimly he walked back to prepare for the third round. Brave as he was, it required no little courage to stand still and be shot at, and small beads of sweat had broken out on his forehead. Yet he felt that there was nothing he could do except pray that he would soon receive an injury which, without being too serious, would be sufficient to satisfy the Conde.

  Again they loaded, stood back to back, then marched to their stations. But now, instead of making any pretence of aiming, the Duke turned the point of his pistol straight up and fired into the air.

  As the bullet sailed heavenwards de Cordoba lowered his weapon and came striding towards him.

  'How dare you?' he cried. 'How dare you? I see now the reason why you have twice missed me. It is because you are not trying. Is not the injury you have done me enough without adding this insult to it? The fact that you happen to be a soldier well practised in arms gives you no right to treat me with contempt as an antagonist.'

  De Richleau sadly shook his head. 'Believe me, Conde, nothing was further from my thoughts. But after all the kindness you showed me in the past, should I happen to kill you I would never forgive myself. Even to injure you would be a shameful return for the support and comfort you gave me after my poor wife's death.'

  It was no use. A temporary madness seemed to afflict the Conde, making him deaf to all reason.

  'Shameful return,' he echoed furiously. 'Have you not made it already? You are one of the few men in whom I would have placed unlimited trust. It is not the seduction of Gulia that I desire to avenge, but your betrayal of my belief in you. I am determined that you shall either be carried from this bay with a wound that will long remain a reminder of your treachery, or that having put a bullet into a man who once had complete faith in you will permanently plague your conscience. Come! Reload; and take your punishment one way or the other.'

  They were just about to place themselves back to back for the fourth time when a shout of 'Stop! Stop that! Stop!' reached them.

  Turning towards the slope that ran up to the villa they saw a female figure running down through the pine wood towards them. Both recognized it instantly as that of the Infanta. Instinctively they stepped apart and waited as she hurried towards them.

  Although only in her late forties Maria Alfonsine was a bulky woman, and now she looked even more so than usual, for she had no corsets on under the thick dressing-gown that was swathed about her. When she reached them her face was scarlet from her exertions, and wisps of her hair, which she had hastily done up in a bun, were floating untidily about her ears. But her high-nosed features displayed the habit of authority and her dark eyes flashed angrily, as she panted.

  'Holy Mary be praised that neither of you is yet injured. There is to be no more of this. I forbid it.'

  Made more furious than ever by her arrival on the scene, de Cordoba barked at her, 'Go back! Go back to the villa! Leave us this instant. You have no right to interfere.'

  'I have every right,' she retorted. 'It is obvious that you have forced this duel upon the Senor Duke; and I know you to have done so under a misapprehension.'

  De Cordoba gave a bitter laugh. 'Since I have a pair of eyes in my head that is impossible. The cause of our quarrel does not concern you; but you may rest assured that no man ever had better reason to call another out.'

  'In that you are wrong,' the Infanta insisted. 'I have just come from Gulia, and she has told me how you took her by surprise by coming through her window.'

  'So she has admitted her shame. I had hoped that everyone other than myself might be spared the knowledge of it. Since she has confessed to you how can you possibly suggest that I had no grounds for challenging this viper whom I believed to be my friend?'

  'Gulia has confessed to more than taking him as a lover.'

  'To what more could she confess?'

  The Infanta waved an impatient hand. 'Be quiet, Jos6, and listen. An hour ago I was wakened by angry voices. There came the slamming of a door and footsteps past my room, then ten minutes later more footsteps. I felt that I must find out what was going on. I went to Gulia's room and found her sobbing her heart out. She told me of your unexpected return and that you had caught her in flagrante delicto with the Senor Duke. Then that twice, three years ago and again this summer, she had done her utmost to persuade him to become her lover. But he had proved adamant in rejecting her advances.'

  'It's said the road to hell is paved with good intentions,' sneered the Conde, 'yet the fact remains that he thought too little of his honour to stay the course. Had he possessed the integrity with which I credited him, he would not only have repul
sed but left her.

  'Wait, Jose. Wait! Having failed to seduce him from his loyalty to you, she hatched a most subtle plan. She told him that your valet had returned from South America with the news that you had been attacked by a puma and died of your wounds. According to her story the man had brought a letter from you expressing your last wishes. They were that Ruiz should conceal your death for the next two months, and meanwhile call in all doubtful loans; so that the bank should be strong enough to withstand a run upon it when your death was publicly announced. Only then, believing her to have become a widow with the right to dispose of herself as she wished, did the Senor Duke agree to become her lover.'

  The anger suddenly drained from de Cordoba's square-bearded face. Turning towards de Richleau, he asked, 'Is this the truth?'

  The Duke nodded. 'Yes, that is what happened. But it was not for me to tell you so.'

  Tears sprung to the Conde's eyes, and he exclaimed, 'Oh my poor friend, I see now that I have done you a terrible injustice. And you! With what chivalry you have behaved. For the insults I heaped upon you I could not have blamed you if you had killed me. Yet you stood there as a target for my bullets and would not even use your skill to render me hors de combat. Can you ever forgive me?'

  'Willingly,' smiled de Richleau. 'Most willingly. I am overjoyed that out of this unhappy affair we should at least have salvaged our friendship. You cannot guess the distress that I have suffered in this past hour from knowing that you believed so ill of me.'

  Overcome with emotion, the Conde opened his arms in the Spanish fashion and the two men embraced, kissing one another on both cheeks. But the Infanta's voice caused them to turn again to her.

  'To see you reconciled is a great joy to me, but you do not yet know everything. Gulia tells me that in mid-August she believed herself to have become encinta, and a few days ago she became certain of it.'