by Anne Mather
She had been right to wear black, she acknowledged flatly, but that was her only merit. The gowns of the two women who stood with Don Esteban bore no resemblance to hers, and their hostility was evident in every word and gesture. From the protection afforded by severely-collared dresses, with long buttoned sleeves, they looked down their thin noses at the outrageous English girl, subjecting her to their censure, and unveiled disapproval.
To Caroline's dismay, Luis seemed amused by this display of self-righteousness, and it was left to Don Esteban to rescue the situation. Unlike his guests, he obviously found Caroline's appearance stunning, and he came towards her purposefully and possessed himself of her hand.
'You look—bellisima, seňorita,' he informed her gallantly, raising her fingers to his lips. Then he glanced round at the Calveiros, and made a bow. 'What a fortunate man I am to have three such beautiful women at my table!'
The introductions were brief, to Caroline's relief, and soon over, and then Josetta Calveiro deserted her parents to move to Luis's side. Caroline heard her chattering away to him eagerly in their own language, as she was appropriated by Don Esteban, and felt an unwelcome sense of resentment. It was obvious that Josetta was very young, and probably very immature, but did Luis have to behave as if he found her conversation absorbing?
'You are a stranger to Mexico, seňorita,' Seňora Calveiro addressed her now, and Caroline endeavoured to concentrate on what she was saying.
'Oh, yes. Yes.' She forced a faint smile. 'I've never crossed the Atlantic before. It's an entirely new experience for me.'
'And for Emilia, too, I am sure,' endorsed Seňora Calveiro, through tight lips. 'It must be quite enlightening for the child to be taught by someone who is obviously so—independent, Esteban. Beware she does not learn all the wrong things.'
Esteban's thick lips parted, as he selected another glass from the tray, proffered by a hovering waiter. 'Miss Leyton understands our situation here, Doňa Julia,' he affirmed, swallowing the lime-flavoured cocktail without grace or hesitation, and taking another. 'Besides, it is good for Emilia to learn of the world outside San Luis.' His fingers touched Caroline's in mute approval. 'Who knows, we may all benefit from this young lady's arrival.'
Seňor Calveiro chose to intercede at that point, taking his host away to discuss some aspect of cattle-raising, and Caroline was left to combat Seňora Calveiro's animosity alone.
'You have made an ally of your employer, I perceive,' the soberly-garbed matrona remarked coldly. 'But have a care, seňorita. Don Esteban has been the aspiration of many a hopeful intrigue, but to my knowledge he has never sought to repeat the mistakes of the past.'
Caroline's fingers tightened on her glass, as the woman's meaning became evident. 'I can assure you, seňora, I have no such aspirations,' she responded politely. 'My reasons for being here are precisely what they seem. I was employed, at the instigation of Don Esteban, by Seňora Garcia, and if he finds my work satisfactory then my purpose has been achieved.'
Seňora Calveiro frowned, regarding her daughter's continuing conversation with Luis with as little enthusiasm as Caroline. 'I did not know that Juana's mother had any part in this,' she murmured, almost absently. And then, returning her attention to the girl at her side, she added: 'I am surprised Esteban permitted it.'
'As Emilia's grandmother, surely Seňora Garcia is entitled to the privilege,' suggested Caroline awkwardly, not quite knowing how to answer her, and Seňora Calveiro's eyes wandered again.
'Perhaps,' she murmured thoughtfully, tasting her cocktail as if it was bitter, 'but after the scandalous way Juana treated Esteban, it is a measure of his tolerance that he permits any contact.' She shrugged, arching her thin brows in an expression of inconsequence. 'So long as the child is happy, 'I suppose we must all make allowances.'
Caroline nodded, wishing desperately that someone would make allowances for her. With Esteban ensconced in conversation at the other side of the room, and Josetta monopolising Luis, she was obliged to humour the elderly dueňa, and it was becoming something of a strain.
Then she turned, and found Luis's eyes upon her.
Until that instant she had not thought he was aware of her. Their conversation upstairs had given her no cause to think otherwise; he had not even complimented her on her appearance. But in that unguarded moment, when she intercepted his brooding gaze, she knew she had been mistaken, and she also knew that his interest in Josetta's chatter was no greater than hers in Seňora Calveiro's.
Responding to the silent appeal in her eyes, Luis excused himself from the Mexican girl and crossed the richly-woven pile of the carpet. His booted feet made little sound on the fabric, and the lithe resolution of his movements reminded Caroline of a feline. There was something intensely sensual in imagining the muscled hardness of his body beneath the yielding texture of his clothes, like the supple power of a jaguar, beneath the deceptive softness of its skin.
'Seňora,' he greeted Josetta's mother smoothly, returning his empty glass to the tray, without taking another. 'I trust Miss Leyton's presence has assured you that Emilia is in good hands.'
'Miss Leyton has been telling me that Doňa Elena made the arrangements,' Seňora Calveiro declared stiffly. 'Without Esteban's good nature, where would we all be?'
'Where indeed?' murmured Luis politely, his thigh brushing Caroline's as he moved from one foot to the other. 'Esteban should be an example to us all.'
Caroline glanced at him swiftly as he spoke, expecting to see the mockery in his face, but he looked perfectly serious, and Seňora Calveiro endorsed his trite statement. 'I am pleased to hear you appreciate this, Luis,' she said, with less hostility than before. 'I know your mother would agree with me when I say that you owe Esteban a lot, and not every brother is willing to forgive and forget.'
'How succinctly you put it, seňora,' observed Luis, with a smile that Caroline watched with blank disbelief. 'I will give your good wishes to my mother, the next time I see her, and you can be assured she will be interested to hear of your approval.'
Surprisingly, this did not seem to meet with such a favourable reaction, and it was perhaps fortunate that a waiter appeared at that moment to announce that dinner was served. Seňora Calveiro immediately moved to join her husband and Esteban, and as Josetta was likewise engaged, for a few unguarded moments Caroline and Luis were alone.
'I would thank you for rescuing me, if I knew what you were doing,' she breathed, bending to deposit her half empty glass on the low marble-topped table behind her. 'I'm sorry, I didn't realise you were such an ardent sympathiser of your brother's. If I've said or done anything to offend you, please accept my apologies.'
'Do not be foolish,' Luis exhorted her roughly, his lean fingers curving round her wrist, under cover of their bodies. 'Would you have had me start an argument with her, and arouse her sour suspicions? So far as Doňa Julia is concerned, I am—how do you call it?—the black sheep, no, and nothing I can say or do will alter her opinion.'
'But why?' Caroline gazed at him, intensely aware of those strong fingers gripping her arm, and his lips compressed impatiently, bracketing his mouth with harsh lines.
'Did not Esteban apprise you of the facts of Emilia's conception?' he demanded grimly. 'Did he not divulge his heartache at his wife's indiscretions?'
'No!' Caroline moved her head negatively, and almost involuntarily his hand slid down to hers. She doubted he was as aware of their unknowing intimacy as she was, but when his fingers probed between hers, they parted to receive him.
'He will,' said Luis now, his dark face taut with emotion, and Caroline's senses spun.
'You mean—Emilia is your daughter?' she whispered, dreading his confirmation, then caught her breath when his face convulsed.
'No!' he denied savagely, jerking her towards him, so that for a pain-sweet moment she was close to his hard body. 'Juana and I were never lovers. Emilia is not my daughter. Though why I should feel the need to defend myself to you, I do not know.'
'No.'
Caroline's response was choked but faint, and he looked down at her almost resentfully, his eyes smouldering with passion. 'Oh, yes,' he contradicted her at last, his mouth suddenly sensual. 'Yes, I know. But there is nothing—nothing—I can do about it.'
'And what is it you can do nothing about, mi hermano?' rasped another voice near Caroline's ear, and they moved apart almost guiltily, Caroline thrusting her suddenly trembling hands behind her back. Esteban had come to join them, moving silently as his brother had done, and Caroline wondered agonisingly how long he had been standing there, listening.
'I was merely confirming Seňora Calveiro's opinion of you, Esteban,' Luis assured him flatly, causing his brother's colour to rise with unbecoming haste. 'She is such a—how shall I put it?—an admirer of yours, and I was confessing to Miss Leyton how—humble you make us all feel.'
Esteban's mouth compressed. 'You are not amusing, Luis,' he countered coldly. 'And Miss Leyton should know better than to listen to you.' His hand reached purposefully for Caroline's elbow. 'Come, seňorita. You will sit with me during dinner, so that Seňora Calveiro shall not think you take my brother's vows lightly.'
Caroline's colour rivalled his as they entered the dining room. She was aware of the Calveiros' eyes upon her, and of the almost brutal strength underlying the soft fingers gripping her arm—and most of all, she was aware of Luis's presence behind them, and the disturbing connotations behind Don Esteban's warning.
It was not an easy meal. Although she tried to concentrate on the food, Caroline's eyes were irresistibly drawn to the foot of the table, where Luis was making conversation again with Josetta. What had he meant by the things he had said? What interpretation could she put upon his actions? And why should she feel so affected by it, when she knew of the circumstances of his background?
'You find my brother's company appealing?' enquired her host, under cover of the servants removing her scarcely-touched plate of soup, and Caroline's wandering thoughts were speared.
'I beg your pardon?' she queried, playing for time, shocked out of her reverie, and unable to marshall her defences, and Esteban's lips curved.
'My brother,' he repeated, in a low voice, helping her to a generous portion of sliced chicken, served with rice and peppers, and a rich, strongly-smelling sauce, and Caroline's stomach revolted. 'Don Luis. His attentions flatter you, perhaps?'
Caroline moistened her dry lips. 'He—I—I find his company—pleasant, yes,' she conceded rather unevenly. 'And please—no more.' She held up unsteady fingers to the waiter. 'I—I'm not very hungry.'
'No?' Esteban looked sideways at her. 'And why is that, seňorita? Do you not find our menus tasty? Or has my brother robbed you of what appetite you had?'
Caroline took a deep breath. 'Don Esteban, your— your brother has said nothing to rob me of my appetite. I simply don't eat a lot, that's all.' She determinedly dipped her fork into the rice on her plate and took a mouthful. 'This is very nice. I—I like it.'
Don Esteban shrugged his broad shoulders and applied himself to his food for a while, but just when Caroline was beginning to breathe more easily, he turned to her again.
'You may think I interfere,' he said, causing her to look up at him with wide, startled eyes. 'But I know my brother better than you do, and it concerns me that you might—misinterpret his—actions.'
Caroline expelled her breath unevenly. 'Honestly, seňor—'
'No, I insist you listen to me, seňorita.' He frowned, concentrating for a moment on the food on his plate. Then he looked at her again. 'I have told you, have I not, of our relationship?' And when Caroline permitted an uneasy nod, he continued: 'What I have not told you, seňorita, is that there is another reason why my brother and I can never be friends—'
'Seňor—'
'—He destroyed my marriage, seňorita.'
Caroline put down her fork, and clasped her hands tightly together in her lap. She should have expected this, of course. After what Seňora Calveiro had said, she should have known what was to come. What she could not accept was why Don Esteban should wish her to know this.
'I have shocked you,' he said now, refilling his wine glass. 'I am sorry.' He swallowed some of the transparent liquid. 'But you are young, seňorita, and vulnerable, and I should not like you to be—hurt.'
Caroline drew a deep breath. 'Why are you telling me this, seňor? Lu—Don Luis—and I scarcely know one another. And—and as you pointed out, he will be returning to the seminary soon.'
Esteban inclined his head. 'Yet it comes to my notice that you have spent much time in his company during these last few days. Did you not go riding with him this morning? Or was it his village woman who accompanied him?'
Caroline's face flamed. 'You must know it was me,' she replied stiffly. 'But—but it was at my instigation. I—I wanted to see outside the gates of the hacienda. Don Luis offered to accompany me.'
'I see.' Esteban studied the wine in his glass. 'You did not think to ask me if you could ride beyond the gates of the hacienda?'
Caroline sighed. 'I did think of it, yes—'
'—but Luis was there, hmm?'
'You were otherwise engaged, seňor. Besides, I—well, Don Luis told me you didn't ride.'
'Ah!' Esteban swirled the wine around in its crystal container. 'Luis told you that, did he?'
'Isn't it true?'
Caroline's question stemmed as much from a desire to reassure herself that she had not been mistaken about Luis than from any real interest in Esteban's abilities. And as if aware of this, her host regarded her with mocking eyes.
'Let us say that like all the things my brother will tell you, there is a grain of truth behind it, seňorita,' he replied. He bent his head. 'But we have talked of Luis long enough. Come, tell me about Emilia. Has her education been neglected? Can you assure me that it is not beyond repair?'
This was easier ground, and in discussing his daughter's education Caroline found an almost painful relief. Despite the nuances overlying his comments concerning her predecessor, she was able to talk with confidence about Emilia's intelligence, and he was reluctantly impressed by the child's evident aptitude for study.
'So you think Emilia has the makings of a scholar?' he remarked at last, draining his glass once again. 'What a pity she is not one of your English misses, seňorita. Who knows, maybe she, too, might have wished to assert her independence.'
Caroline forced a faint smile, but she was aware that Don Esteban was drinking far more than anyone else at the table, and what was even more disturbing, Seňora Calveiro, and her daughter, were watching them closely, as if she was to blame for his studied neglect of his other guests.
The meal dragged to its inevitable conclusion, and Caroline was heartily relieved when Don Esteban acknowledged the servant's intimation that coffee had been prepared in the salón.
'Let me help you,' he said, getting to his feet to draw back her chair, and she saw that despite the amount of wine he had consumed throughout the meal, he was still perfectly capable of supporting himself. It was she who stumbled as she rose, her haste to get away from the table overriding her attempt at composure, and Don Esteban's fingers slid about her waist, as he rescued her temporary loss of balance.
'No hurry, seňorita,' he murmured, his wine-scented breath fanning her cheek, and a sense of revulsion out of all proportion to the incident brought a wave of heat over her body.
'Thank you, I can manage,' she got out unevenly, drawing herself away from him, but not before she had seen the Calveiros exchange a significant glance that mirrored all too clearly their opinion of her behaviour. What did they think she was? she wondered impotently, marching ahead of Don Esteban, flags of colour burning in her cheeks. Were they so out of touch with everyday living that they imagined her only reason for coming here was to find a husband? Did they seriously believe she was interested in Don Esteban? Was it beyond the realms of the Calveiros' experience that a woman should want more from life than the security of a husband?
In the salón, she sought the isolation of a satin-covered-armchair, withdrawing herself mentally, if not physically, from the company. She accepted the cup of coffee proffered by an olive-skinned maid with trembling fingers, then reviewed her position, in the light of the present situation.
It seemed obvious she had made a mistake in coming here. Aside from the remoteness of the hacienda, she was being reluctantly drawn into the personal lives of her employers. It was useless to tell herself that it wasn't important, that she had a job to do, and she should do it. She was involved, unwillingly or otherwise, and what was more, her motives were being tried and judged by people who knew nothing about her, who lived in a society confined by its own limitations.
'You seem—troubled,' remarked a quiet voice beside her, and she looked up tensely into Luis's lean dark face.
'I am,' she said, in no mood to fence words with him. 'I think I should not have come here.'
Luis squatted down easily beside her, the soft material of his pants taut over the muscles of his thighs. 'And what reason do you have for coming to this conclusion?' he enquired flatly. 'Do not distress yourself on my account. I shall be leaving soon. You have nothing to fear from me.'
Caroline caught her breath. 'It—I—it has nothing to do with you,' she exclaimed huskily. 'I—I just feel a man would be more—suitable in this post.'
Luis sighed. 'So—what did Esteban say to you?'
'Don Esteban?' Caroline's tongue circled her lips. 'Why, nothing.'
Luis frowned. 'So you had come to this decision before you came down to dinner?'
Caroline hesitated. 'Not exactly.'
'Then—'
'Oh, if you must know, I feel—I feel as if Seňora Calveiro thinks I have—designs on your brother.' She bent her head. 'And I'm not sure he doesn't think that too.'
Luis shrugged, the grey eyes, almost on a level with hers, narrowed and speculative. 'And why did you come, seňorita?'
Caroline gasped. 'You know why! Because I needed a job. Because it sounded—it sounded—'
'—exciting?'