by Anne Mather
'Ana Pascale?' whispered Caroline faintly, and Doňa Isabel looked taken aback.
'That is her name!' she granted harshly. 'How do you know? Who told you? Not—Esteban?'
'No. Luis,' replied Caroline, hardly understanding any of this. 'Then who is she?'
'You do not know? Luis did not tell you that?'
'Luis? No.' Caroline shook her head. 'Please—'
'Ana Pascale is his mother's sister's daughter!' spat Doňa Isabel venomously.
'His cousin?'
'And Esteban's mistress!' announced the old lady scornfully. 'To save her family from being ejected from the pitiful holding which is all Esteban allows them!'
Caroline shook her head. 'I—I can't believe it.'
'Why not? Did not Luis explain why he is obliged to remain at the seminary? Did he not tell you of his brother's threats concerning his mother and her family?'
'No!' But a faint light was dawning. 'You mean, Esteban owns—everything?'
But Doňa Isabel was turning away, her face twisted, as if she suspected she had said too much. And yet, as Caroline allowed what she had said to filter into her consciousness,, she was left with the certain knowledge that so far as she was concerned, Luis was as remote from her as ever.
Emilia must have thought she was rather grumpy that morning, answering only when she was spoken to, conducting the lessons without her usual good humour. It was as well that Juanita and Victor were still absent. She did not think she could have handled an argumentative group.
Esteban did not appear for lunch, but Emilia volunteered the information that the doctor had visited the hacienda again that morning. 'They say he still has a fever,' she remarked indifferently. 'Are you going to see him, seňorita? To apologise for leaving him to walk all the way home?'
'No.' Caroline's answer was too abrupt, and she qualified it hastily. It would not do to rouse any suspicions now. 'Your father left me, Emilia. I was expected to walk home. It wasn't my fault that he overturned the carriage.'
'Or that you got a ride home with Gerardo and his friends,' remarked Emilia dryly. 'Oh, yes, I know about that. Benito told me. Benito is a good friend. He tells me everything.'
Caroline acknowledged this, and to her relief, Emilia's nursemaid appeared a few moments later to take Emilia for her rest. But as the little girl left her, she put out her hand and touched her cheek.
'Goodbye, Emilia,' she said, forcing a faint smile to her lips, and Emilia pulled a face.
'Hasta la vista, seňorita,' she responded, and Caroline nodded her head because she didn't trust herself to speak..
Her cases were brought down and stowed in the Range Rover, and then Doňa Isabel accompanied her to the top of the flight of steps. Although it was fine at the moment, and humid, too, it had been raining, and a faint mist was rising from the ground. This was how she would remember it, thought Caroline tremulously, the warmth, and the colour, and the damp smells of the garden—and Luis's face, fatigued by the tensions of suppressed passion.
Tomas stowed her bags into the back of the Range Rover, then joined her inside, seating himself behind the wheel. He seemed narrow-eyed and jumpy, and Caroline wondered why, but as he spoke no English, she looked forward to a silent journey.
Gomez opened the gates as they drove through, raising his battered hat as they passed, and Caroline's throat tightened. She had come here with such high hopes. Now they had all been dashed, and she was leaving like a stranger in the night. Only it wasn't night, and she was no stranger; only a half-frightened girl, caught in a trap she had scarcely apprehended.
After the rain of the past days, the ground under the vehicle's wheels was waterlogged and heavy, and the journey down to the village was a hair-raising one. Even going downhill, the wheels skidded to the edge of the road, spinning uselessly over ditches, before regaining purchase on the slippery ground. Caroline clung helplessly to her seat, trying not to watch Tomas too closely, but she couldn't help seeing how the Mexican's sweating hands had difficulty in holding on to the wheel.
About a mile beyond the village Tomas suddenly changed his tactics, pulling the vehicle off the road into a belt of trees. Caroline thought at first he was stopping to recover his nerve, but to her surprise, he glanced at her and said: 'Perdón, seňorita!' and then thrust open his door and climbed out. Within seconds he had disappeared, running as if for his life, through the trees that eventually emerged on to the road again.
Caroline was stunned, as much by Tomas's uncharacteristic attitude as by any immediate fear for herself. What was wrong with the man? Hadn't he the nerve to drive her to Las Estadas? Did he suspect that Esteban did not know of her departure, and was alarmed that he might be blamed?
Caroline shook her head. Surely Doňa Isabel had explained. Surely he understood that he was simply following orders. If Esteban was angry, his censure would fall on his daughter and his aunt, and Caroline knew a pang of remorse when she thought of Emilia's reaction to her disappearance.
Still, her most immediate need was to get to Las Estadas, and although if she drove the Range Rover it was going to be difficult for Tomas to explain, if that was the only way, she would have to do it.
This thought had barely surfaced when she heard footsteps coming through the trees, and she expelled her breath in relief. Of course—why hadn't she thought of that? Tomas had stopped for the most natural reason in the world, and had she been more premature, and driven away without him, he would surely have been very angry.
A smile forming on her lips at her own foolishness, she turned, only to feel the smile freezing on her lips like a grimace. It was not Tomas who swung open the door of the Range Rover and climbed in beside her, but Esteban, and for several blank seconds she could neither move nor articulate.
'Ah, seňorita!' As he lounged into the seat beside her, he was smiling beneficently. 'Did you think to leave without saying goodbye? Shame on you, Miss Leyton!'
CHAPTER ELEVEN
It was with an effort that Caroline struggled to regain her composure. 'What—what are you doing here, seňor?' she asked, trying to appear calm and unperturbed by his appearance. 'I thought Tomas was driving me to Las Estadas.' There was no point in pretending she had been going anywhere else, with her suitcases plainly visible in the back of the vehicle. 'I thought you were ill, seňor.'
'A cold, nothing more.' Esteban dismissed his condition with a careless wave of his hand, but Caroline could see it had been a little more than that. Whether he was cured or not she could not be sure, but certainly something had left dark rings around his eyes, and robbed his sallow face of all colour. 'So now,' he continued, firing the ignition, 'let us get on. It would not do for you to miss your bus, would it?'
And have to spend another night at the inn, Caroline reflected uneasily, finishing what had been implicit in Esteban's statement, and she wondered how on earth he had learned she was leaving.
The Range Rover squelched out from the trees on to the road again, and Caroline half expected Esteban to turn back the way they had come. She couldn't believe he had arrived just to drive her to Las Estadas. It didn't make sense, and it was certainly out of character. But they turned away from San Luis, on the road that led through the semi-tropical terrain that lay between them and Las Estadas, and Caroline expelled her breath unevenly, wondering what, if anything, he intended to do with her. There were many miles between San Luis and Las Estadas, areas of jungle and vegetation, where a person could disappear and never be found again. Within weeks her bones would be picked dry by the predators that roamed the forest, and her whole body came out in a cold sweat at the thought of such a fate.
'You seem—dismayed, seňorita,' Esteban remarked suddenly, breaking in on her morbid thoughts and causing her to look at him apprehensively. 'Why should the idea of myself driving you to Las Estadas worry you so much? We have driven this way before.'
Caroline's tongue circled her dry lips. 'Why didn't you drive me from the hacienda, then, seňor? Why didn't you tell your aunt that you w
ould take me to Las Estadas?'
'But I did.' Esteban sounded quite put out, and Caroline stared at him disbelievingly. 'It is true,' he persisted. 'It was I who suggested you leave after lunch. I am afraid I had an appointment with the doctor this morning, and therefore it was impossible for me to get away.'
Caroline could not comprehend what he was saying. 'Your—aunt—Doňa Isabel knew?'
'But of course.' Esteban half smiled. 'Tia Isabel tells me everything. Did you not know?'
'No.' Caroline's response was barely audible. But at least she now knew how Esteban had found out she was leaving. Did he also know about Luis's visit the night before?
'I insisted on taking you myself,' Esteban added now. 'It was the least I could do after our last—confrontation. But I had business in the village, and I suggested Tomas should bring you on the first stage of the journey and meet me here.' He paused to allow another vehicle to pass them, a hazardous venture at the best of times, and doubly so now with the roads slippery and streaming with water. 'I wanted to apologise,' he went on. 'To ask you to forgive my selfish temper.'
Caroline would have thought his behaviour had had more serious overtones than a mere flash of temper, but his explanations were relieving her so much she was prepared to believe almost anything, just to get the journey over. Afterwards, she would consider why Tomas should have apologised to her as he got out of the vehicle, why he should have stopped in such a remote spot to change drivers, and why Doňa Isabel, who had pretended to be helping her, should have reported all her doings to her nephew. But for now, she acknowledged his apology with a forced smile, and crossed her fingers tightly as the Range Rover turned a corner a little too fast and skidded to the edge of the track.
'So,' Esteban glanced her way, 'you are feeling better now, seňorita? You do not think Esteban is such a villain, after all.'
Caroline shook her head. 'I—I never thought you were a villain, seňor.'
'No?' He sounded sceptical. 'But you would rather believe my brother than me, no?'
Caroline caught her lower lip between her teeth. 'I beg your pardon?'
'Luis. You believe everything Luis has told you.'
'He has told me nothing, seňor.'
'No?' Esteban blatantly did not believe her, and the feeling of unease rekindled inside her. 'He did not tell you that like Tia Isabel, my mother was a little—how shall I put it?—unusual?'
'No.' Caroline spoke firmly this time. 'Why should he tell me that? Your—your aunt is as sane as you or I.'
'Hmm.' Esteban absorbed this, while Caroline's pulse fluttered a little faster. 'Nevertheless, it has to be said that my mother was a little strange. Of course, Tia Isabel believes that my father was responsible for her condition. He was—fond of women, seňorita. He had many mistresses.'
Caroline did not make any response. She hoped if she said nothing he would eventually grow tired of baiting her, but she should have known that Esteban enjoyed the pursuit as much as the capture.
'Of course,' he continued, 'after Mama was dead, and he married Luis's mother, he became a model husband. I do not know what Irena had, but she kept him home at nights, and for that I should admire her.' He laughed at this, then broke off to cough rather hoarsely, as the legacy of the chill he had taken racked his lungs. 'Luis, of course, was the apple of her eye, but not of my father's, obviously. Else why did he leave the estate to me, and nothing to his wife's precious bastard!'
'Luis is not a bastard!' Caroline could keep silent no longer. 'He—he's just as much your father's son as you are. And—and it's unfair that the estate should not be divided.'
'Ah, yes.' Esteban glanced at her again, his eyes more speculative now, and Caroline wished he would keep his eyes on the road. It was too precarious a route to treat so contemptuously, and the adrenalin pumped through her veins as they careered across the road, narrowly missing an enormous pothole.
'I suppose Luis told you what happened to his mother after my father died?'
Caroline hesitated. 'He told me she entered a convent, yes.'
'Yes—a convent.' Esteban's lips curled. 'She knew I would not allow her to stay at San Luis, so she took the easy way out, eh?'
Caroline moved her shoulders helplessly. 'It's nothing to do with me, seňor.'
Esteban shrugged. 'She thought she was so clever.'
'Clever, seňor?' Caroline was confused.
'Yes, clever,' repeated Esteban harshly. 'She knew I hated her. And Luis. She knew that once Papa was dead I would do anything in my power to get rid of them.' He sneered. 'She thought that by entering the convent she had thwarted me.' He laughed again, but it was not a pleasant sound and Caroline shivered. 'She thought Luis would be more than a match for me. But she had forgotten about the rest of her family.'
'The rest of her family?' Caroline couldn't help the involuntary question, and he nodded.
'The Pascales. They live on the estate. They were my father's tenants. How else do you think he met Luis's mother?' His mouth twisted. 'Peasants, all of them! Unfit to mingle their blood with ours!'
Caroline was beginning to understand. Doňa Isabel had spoken of the Pascales. Of Luis's cousin, Maria. But where did Luis come in?
'My father had Luis educated, of course,' Esteban continued now. 'For a peasant, he is remarkably intelligent.'
Caroline's nails dug painfully into her palms, but she kept silent, and he went on:
'My father sent him to the university of California. He gained a degree in agricultural studies. To help my father run the estate, you understand?'
Caroline nodded, not trusting herself to speak, and Esteban went on with his monologue.
'He came home with many—radical ideas. Ideas concerned with social conditions, and democratising the rights of the peons' He shook his head. 'My father pretended to listen to him. He even agreed to try some of his methods. But fortunately a seizure robbed him of the power to speak or move and he was a living vegetable until his death.'
Caroline caught her breath. 'He was your father!'
'He was not fit to be my father at the end. He had destroyed everything my family ever stood for. He had mingled the blood of conquistadores with that of slaves, and he deserved to die!'
Caroline shook her head. 'And—and afterwards?' She had to know.
'Afterwards, as I said, Luis's mother entered the convent. She thought she had won. That Luis would stay here at the hacienda, and share the running of the estate. She knew he was stronger than I was, that he was not afraid of horses, as I was, and that the men would be loyal to him.' He smiled unpleasantly. 'But unfortunately she had forgotten Luis is also an honourable man. When I put it to him that his mother's family might fare badly if they were deprived of their small holding, he understood— particularly as he knew that being forced to leave their home would kill his aunt and uncle.'
Caroline's lips trembled. 'Why are you telling me all this, seňor?'
'I thought you would like to know,' remarked Esteban airily. 'Just in case you had any foolish ideas that Luis might come after you.' He shook his head. 'Luis will not betray his family, seňorita, and after all, why should he, for a harlot such as you!'
Caroline flinched as if he had struck her. And like a snake, she supposed he had. He had destroyed any hopes she might have nurtured that Luis might change his mind, and finally bestowed upon her an ugly epithet, such as he had previously reserved for Luis's mother. She had been right to feel afraid of him, to be apprehensive of the outcome of this journey. He had insulted her and abused her, and she felt as unclean as his words had made her.
'Have you nothing to say in your own defence, seňorita?' he taunted now, and she saw to her relief that they were nearing the outskirts of Las Estadas. The journey was almost over, and she could hardly wait to be free of him.
'Well?' he persisted. 'Is it not true that you have a lover in England? A lover, moreover, who already has a wife?'
Caroline stiffened, and then realising Doňa Isabel must have told him this too, sh
e straightened her spine and answered him. 'I have no lovers, seňor,' she declared coldly. 'Unlike your pitiful aunt and her sister, and Seňorita Calveiro, I find more satisfaction in books and learning than prostrating myself before some ignorant macho!'
Esteban sucked in his breath. 'Have a care, seňorita. You are not in England yet. And a woman like you should welcome any man's attentions!'
Caroline refused to look at him, even while the blood was pounding through her head, and apprehension overwhelmed her previous recklessness. Yet what could he do now? she argued with herself, as the shabby streets of Las Estadas engulfed them—but she could find no comfort in the fateful question.
The bus station, she knew, was at the far side of the town, a corrugated-roofed building, with a small office for booking tickets. The bus services in Mexico were surprisingly good, and although it had been a tiring journey, Caroline had not found the trip from Merida to Las Estadas uncomfortable. Now, however, she didn't much care whether the coming trip was comfortable or not. She just wanted to escape from Esteban's company, and the cruel crudity of his tongue.
Esteban did not take the main road through the town. He turned left into a narrower street, lined with closely-packed houses, and smelling of stale food and unwashed humanity. Caroline was not immediately dismayed. She thought it might be a more direct route to the bus station. She had still to ascertain that there was transport out of Las Estadas this evening, but surely Doňa Isabel would not have let her come without being sure. And then she remembered, Doňa Isabel was not to be trusted, and Luis had expected her to leave that morning.
Fear feathered over her skin like a cobweb's touch. The truth was, she was putting her faith in a man who had professed to despise her. She already knew what he was like. She had no need to doubt the flaws in his character. And remembering the butterfly, she wondered if she had any more chance of escaping unscathed.
When Esteban brought the Range Rover to a halt beside a pair of ramshackle wooden gates, her heart almost stopped beating. This was definitely not the bus station, and she glanced at him anxiously, trying to hide her fear.