blow added to when it became known that his wife of less than a week had left him. Loving him as she did, her own pride disappeared without trace. She had to go back. Severo was in trouble. It was as simple as that.
She turned the Mini round, the car he had purchased for her when he had known he was on the verge of ruin, but had bought for her just the same so that the people he employed should not wonder at the lack of a wedding gift.
And she had been thinking of selling it, she thought, as she turned into the approach to the drive. Well, it would have to go now, as would Severo's Maserati. Everything would have to go to clear the debts, as debts there must be, with the bank manager ringing him so early in the day. And when that was done, she would stay on, work beside Severo. Between them they would get the estancia back on its feet. Pray God he hadn't been into her room and seen the note she had left him. That was the first thing she must do, go to her room and tear up that letter.
She scarcely gave thought to the fact she was only supposed to be there for as long as they had Abuela. If she could help Severo she would stay as long as she was needed.
The Mini had just started its journey up the drive proper when Severo's Maserati came roaring down to meet it. Reggie's heart began racing as in seconds, his face taut and grim, Severo was up to her, brakes being applied with a force that left rubber on the driveway. Her first impulse had been to stop, her foot was already off the accelerator. But when Severo flung open his car door, his face like some demon, looking ready to leap and drag her out of her car, her foot went down on the accelerator again, hard.
Oh, my God, he's found my note, whipped through her thudding brain. Found it, probably checked her wardrobes too and found them empty, and by the look it being the last straw to his pride that on top of everything
else, when the state of the finances of the Estancia de Cardenosa became known, as they surely would when there were no cattle to be seen roaming his land, then everyone would think they knew why his bride of such a brief duration had deserted him. That she had married him only for his money.
The Maserati was riding on her bumper when Reggie pulled up at the estancia, a tight-lipped Severo more enraged than she had ever seen him yanking the door open before she had time to turn off the engine. It was he who cut the engine, taking the keys out of the ignition as if he intended never to let her have them back if this was the sort of trick she pulled.
Then she was being hauled out of the car, dragged round to the boot, confirmation coming before the boot lid went crashing up that her note had been read and he knew her suitcases were in there. Then while she was still trying to find some word that might take some of the steam out of him, he had her cases one under an arm, one in his hand and her in his other hand, the force of his grip hurting as he marched her inside the house.
`Severo---' she tried as she galloped to keep up with him, but she was ignored and had to swallow the fact that it looked as if he was in no mood to sort her out until they were sure of privacy.
It was to her room that he towed her. And once there, the door slammed hard shut, her cases went whizzing across the floor. Then he pulled her round to face him.
`As soon as I have finished with you you can unpack that little lot,' he said between clenched teeth. But first you can tell me what the hell you think you're playing at.'
To say that his expression, the volcanic heat in him terrified her, was an understatement, but she had to try to hide her fear, try to get through to him.
`You saw my note,' she tried, hoping that might explain everything.'
Pride—pride of possession was on his face, his words clipped as he bit, 'Did you think I would ever let you go?'
As she had thought he wouldn't stand to have gossiping tongues clacking behind his back.
`You—were coming after me?'
`You are mine,' he rapped, as if that said it all.
Reggie knew she would fare much better if she just agreed with everything he said; he had enough on his plate without this. But he was firing her to argue, stabbing at her streak of independence.
`I belong to me—no one else.'
`You are my wife,' he stated aggressively, thrusting her away when he next spoke as though to check himself from doing her physical harm. 'Did you think I would tolerate you leaving me for another man?'
`Another man?' She was gasping at the construction he had put on her note.
`Do you deny you have thought of little else but going to the man you love since receiving his letter telling you he would soon be free?'
Hot words spurted from her. 'Yes, I do deny it,' she said angrily.
She might well have saved her breath. She could see he didn't believe her, that her getting angry was doing nothing to cool his temper. Then she saw his eyes narrow shrewdly a couple of seconds before he barked:
`Don't dare lie to me! You were on your way to go to him when you changed your mind—when it came to you that the pickings would be better if you stayed with me.'
This final insult was too much. Reggie forgot completely then that it was purely his pride talking, for what pickings would there be if the estancia was on its uppers—though of course he didn't know that she knew that—and she had moved that step towards him with her hand flying through the air.
`You pig,' she yelled, her temper not alleviated that he
caught her wrist in a cruel grip that stopped her blow from landing, her fury out of control that he should dare to accuse her of wanting another man when he had a load of dirty linen himself that could do with an airing. `How dare you accuse me—when your own backyard would take a year to clear up!'
`Backyard?'
His fury had been more than a match for hers, but though he still held her wrist fiercely, the edge seemed to go off it as his puzzled question hung there.
But if the edge had gone off his fury, then Reggie was still livid. At some pain to herself she tore her wrist out of his grasp, her eyes flashing.
`You were right not to believe my note,' she said furiously, careless that his lips had tightened ominously so that it looked as though his interpretation of her letter had been right, until she charged on, too angry to pick her words. 'I was leaving because I happen to hold standards of decency you would know nothing of.'
`Decency?' He sounded baffled, but he knew what she was talking about all right.
`At least I didn't know Clive was married when I started going out with him.'
The narrowing of his eyes told her he had caught up with her, an arrogance coming to him that didn't fool her for a minute. 'Are you suggesting that I am practising a little dalliance with a married lady?'
The utter nerve of him! To stand there, proud, arrogant, just as though he was as white as the driven snow! He went farther.
`Perhaps you will be good enough to let me know this married lady's name?'
`As if you didn't know!' she fairly exploded. `Manuela Gomez—that's who I'm talking about.' Her control on her tongue had gone completely as the humiliation she
had felt on waking was recalled. Did you think I wouldn't guess after seeing you with your arm around her yesterday where you were last night?'
The words left her without regret. But far from looking furious at being taken to task by a shrewish woman he didn't care two pence about, Severo, with one of those lightning changes of mood Reggie never had been able to keep up with, seemed to lose the anger that had been violent in him, and did nothing to abate her own anger by appearing to quite enjoy the accusation she was flinging at him. As she was about to go for him again, his voice, silky this time, stopped her.
`You are jealous,' he said, and even had the audacity to grin as he said it.
`No, I am not,' she lied hotly, feeling more upset than ever that not only did he like the idea of her being jealous, but worse than that, he wasn't bothering to deny that he had been with Manuela last night. 'It—it's just that I've been brought up the old-fashioned way,' jealousy was sapping her anger, 'and ... and I find it humiliati
ng that you can come straight from her arms and ... and then ...' Her voice petered out, humiliation with her again.
`And come to the bed of my wife to enjoy the warmth of her newly awakened passion.' Severo didn't have the trouble she had in finishing it.
The memory of being naked in his arms had colour stealing over her otherwise pale cheeks. She didn't want Severo touching her, but seeing her blush and, guessing the reason for it she didn't doubt, he put his arms round her, charging her emotions as gently he kissed first one crimson cheek and then the other.
`You enjoy lying in my arms, do you not, querida?' he asked softly, the answer to which he already knew, she thought, already so aware of him that what powers of
logic she had were already leaving.
As they left you last night, a voice within her was struggling to be heard. And then she was pushing at him, trying to get out of those arms when perhaps her mind would clear.
To her surprise, without argument, he let her go. 'You are not ready yet to be taken on that voyage of discovery we made last night,' he said, the gentleness in his voice making her forget for the moment that she had decided that morning that it was never going to happen again. `There is so much I want to teach you ..
`We have to talk.' Firmly she cut him off; she had to, his very tone was seducing her, she had to stop it now—stop it before the urge to find out what more he had to teach could get a hold.
`Very well,' he said quietly, and while she sought round for the right words, feeling selfconscious suddenly, he said not another word, but waited to hear what she had to say.
Reggie knew she had to be very careful. She had to deliver what she had to say without heat, make sure she didn't say one wrong word. For if Severo reacted angrily, then temper that only he seemed capable of arousing—past her understanding when she loved him so much—would get out of hand, and who knew what she might reveal.
She took a deep breath, saw he was looking a model of patience, sincerely hoped he would remain so until she had finished, and was ready.
`My real reason for leaving you was because of what's going on between you and Manuela Gomez.' His right eyebrow ascended, but he didn't interrupt. 'I'm not judging you,' she declared, 'only stating the facts as I know them.' God, she sounded prim, and she could well have done without his smooth insertion:
`Do carry on.'
She hadn't missed that there was an edge of sarcasm creeping into his voice, but forcing herself to sound calm, no matter how she was inwardly feeling, she continued.
`You said earlier that you thought I changed my mind about leaving you because I thought I would be on to a better thing with you than with Clive ...'
`So?' he prompted, a hardness coming to his voice that she had hoped not to hear.
`Oh, Severo,' she cried, knowing that since he wasn't going to bend his pride and tell her of his financial circumstances, then she was going to have to tell him about the phone call she had overheard. `Severo,' she said, sick inside that she was about to topple his mammoth Uruguayan pride, 'I know,' she said gently.
`You know?' He sounded mystified. 'What exactly is it that you know?'
So he intended to keep up the pretence that nothing was wrong. With an ache in her heart for him, she whispered, 'I know that you're facing ruin.'
`Ruin?'
His acting ability was brilliant, she had to give him that. The surprise ,in his voice, the astounded look were masterly. She had to look away, unable to watch when his pride crumbled.
`I—overheard you on the phone not an hour ago,' she said dully.
He didn't answer, and she just had to look at him then. But his expression was not the one of destroyed pride she had expected, but was shuttered, telling her nothing except that he had recalled his telephone conversation.
`I was speaking in Spanish,' he said at length, and what was going on in his head she would dearly loved to know, if by so knowing she could help him over this most difficult of moments. For from that shrewd look in his
t o
eyes something was definitely going on in there.
`I know. But I know enough Spanish now to understand what was being said.'
`I see,' he said thoughtfully, then, 'Perhaps you would refresh my memory—tell me exactly what it was I said.'
`Oh, Severo,' she said helplessly, feeling to do so would be like rubbing salt in his wounds.
`Tell me,' he ordered sharply.
`Well,' it had been a command, and since he was insisting, 'I don't know who you were speaking with, your bank probably,' and when he neither confirmed or denied her assumption, 'but—but I heard you say the herd would have to go, that—that it was impossible to stay afloat, and—and something about staring ruin in the face,' she ended miserably.
`What else?'
`I didn't stay to hear any more.'
`You came straight to this room to pack.' His anger had returned full force, aggression biting. 'You decided on that instant that living with a man you hate was fine so long as his pockets were well lined, but that nothing would induce you to stay once you knew he was insolvent.'
Fury she didn't want was clawing for freedom at knowing just what he thought of her. It loosened her tongue and had words coming boiling from her.
`I've told you my reason for leaving,' she spat at him. `I was already packed and on my way out when I saw the back of you in your study.' And, angrier still the more she thought about it, 'You have such a high opinion of me it just wouldn't dawn on you, would it, that once I'd had a chance to realise what the collapse of the estancia would mean to you—on top of that—the blow to your pride to have me walk out after less than a week of marriage, that I should decide to come back. Decide to work alongside
you, to build again, to try and make the Estancia de Cardenosa what it was before.'
She still had plenty to fling at him, but the look of incredulity that had come to him stopped her. Well, she thought, not ready to forgive him for the light in which he saw her, he would look incredulous, wouldn't he? It would come as a mighty shock to him to know that far from her being the girl he thought she was, it didn't matter a brass farthing to her that he was penniless.
She hadn't expected him to thank her, she didn't want his thanks. But she was the one to be surprised when instead of referring to what she had just said, slowly, his face deadly serious, he asked:
`You don't hate me, Reggie?'
This was dangerous territory, she knew it, but since hate was streets away from love, she answered truthfully, woodenly, 'Of course I don't hate you.' And, all too conscious of the intent way he was looking at her, she got herself hopelessly muddled by adding, when she should have kept quiet, `Do you think I could respond to you ...' Oh hell, his silence was forcing her to go on, 'the way I did if—I hated—you?'
And suddenly Severo's mood had changed again, to her bewilderment becoming as light-hearted as she had ever seen him.
`I had hoped it was because you found me irresistible,' he said, and she saw from the look in his brilliantly blue eyes that he was highly pleased about something. Then his good spirits were hidden as he saw she was determined not to be amused.
`So,' he said, when he saw she was just as determined not to answer him, 'you are staying with me so that the Estancia de Cardenosa shall one day be as it appears to be now.' She still wasn't answering, for all he waited for her reply. She had said too much as it was. Then softly he
was questioning, 'And what about my—affair--with Manuela Gomez? Are you going to accept that I have a wife and need a mistress too?' He couldn't have said anything more guaranteed to loosen her tongue.
`No,' shot from her. Then gathering her small control, stonily, and painfully, she told him, 'While you're seeing her I shall expect you to do me the courtesy of—not coming to my bed.'
His face was entirely serious when he answered, 'And what if I am not having an affair with Manuela Gomez?' This time he wasn't waiting for her answer. 'What if I tell you I have never had an affair with Manuel
a Gomez? And what if I told you that Manuela Gomez, for all her charms, leaves me as cold as your sister's hard-eyed beauty? What then, querida—would I then be welcome in your bed?'
Reggie was gasping at what he was saying. 'I ...' she faltered. `But—you are having an affair . ..' The arrogant look silenced her.
`Never once have I touched that woman in the way you suggest,' he told her sternly, then suddenly, for all he was watching her like a hawk, his expression eased. `Though I will own to catching a glimpse of you looking particularly tight-lipped on the occasion I introduced the two of you. I will own too that I wasn't averse to wanting you to be jealous.'
Jealous! If only he knew. `But—why?' she asked, too busy wanting to believe he wasn't lying when he said Manuela Gomez left him cold to get to the answer by herself.
`Why, cara mia?' Severo allowed himself a smile that included her. 'Because I have been insanely jealous of the man you told me you loved and couldn't see any reason why you should not feel some of the same when on that first meeting it looked as though you objected to Manuela.'
`Oh,' she said, her heart thumping, her face growing pink. 'Er—you have been jealous of Clive?'
`As jealous as hell,' he admitted unashamedly.
It wasn't very nice to be so pleased about his suffering, she had to own, but she couldn't help being pleased he had been jealous; any more than she could stop her lips and eyes from beaming a smile to him as she confessed:
`I discovered when I received Clive's letter that it wasn't true love I felt for him.'
With a warm look in his eyes just for her, a smile on his lips, he gently pulled her unresisting into his arms. `So that was the reason you looked so shocked.' Then his arms tightened about her as he asked softly, 'Was that when you discovered it was true love you felt for me?'
Without thinking she whispered, No, not then,' and immediately realised that what she had said amounted to a confession that she had at some time discovered that she did love him. 'Oh!' she said, scarlet, her eyes glued to the buttons down the front of his shirt.
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