“Yes.” She met his eyes and then looked away quickly.
“Mothers who are excessively devoted to their children do not normally make arrangements of that kind,” the Marques remarked, as he helped himself to a deep purple fig and considered it thoughtfully. “Would you agree with me about that, senhorita?”
“I—well, I—” Caroline stammered.
He held up a slender white hand.
“Oh, don’t misunderstand me! Senhora de Fonteira is a very beautiful woman, recently widowed, and naturally she wishes to marry again. But a husband who could help her to keep an eye on the child would be more of an asset than one who would force her to live in England, do you not agree?” Caroline could not understand the complacency on his face, or what he was trying to arrive at by these roundabout mentions.
“You mean,” she said, awkwardly, “a fellow-countryman of her late husband’s? A—a Portuguese—?”
“Naturally”
Suddenly she thought she saw daylight. He was trying to warn her, because Dom Vasco was a very personable man. And she had known him for several weeks. She had had several weeks’ start of Ilse de Fonteira, but it couldn’t possibly get her anywhere because—she wasn’t Ilse de Fonteira!
“Senhor Marques,” she heard herself say stiffly, when she found the courage, “are you trying to tell me that you believe Senhora de Fonteira and Dom Vasco de Capuchos... that they might... that you think they will...?”
But he shook his silvery-grey head, smiling in a mildly quizzical fashion.
“No, no, senhorita, I do not hope. That was what you were going to say next, wasn’t it? I am not even certain that the senhora has already formed such plans, but I would not be approving if she did. A husband will one day be found for the senhora, but I would prefer that it is not Dom Vasco. Therefore, I would like you to remain here and have charge of the boy. So don’t run away unless you feel you must!”
She felt herself colouring revealingly as she met his eyes. She had no doubts at all now that he had read her mind—and her heart. She wanted to run away! And he didn’t want her to run away! Because of Carmelita? Was that the secret? If Carmelita married Vasco she could hardly be expected to burden herself at the outset of her marriage with somebody else’s child. Therefore somebody had to be retained for Richard. And what better a somebody than little Miss Caroline Worth, who was so good for him?
The Marques leaned forward suddenly and patted her hand.
“Don’t worry, senhorita,” he advised. “Just stay here and let things work themselves out. Remember that the boy does need you, and all that effusive mother-love that was intended to impress us last night is not really what he needs!”
Which meant that the Marques, at least, was not deceived about Ilse.
Carmelita dropped in in the afternoon, and as Caroline and the Marques were sitting together in the garden she sat with them for a while.
“Vasco is not here?” she said when she first arrived. And when the Marques explained gravely that he had taken Carlos’s widow for a drive into the country she arched her eyebrows and looked nothing more than mildly amused.
“I would have thought the journey here yesterday would have tired her,” she remarked. “But perhaps she is not easily tired.”
“I’m afraid last evening’s entertainment was a little too much for her,” the Marques remarked, and over Caroline’s head their two pairs of eyes met. Carmelita’s red lips smiled a little ruefully.
“It must have been my piano-playing,” she remarked. “I went on for too long.”
But the Marques was too polite to allow this. He insisted that it had been a great treat, and Caroline echoed him.
“It was wonderful, Senhorita de Capuchos. I enjoyed it so much that I hope I shall hear you play again before I go home to England.”
Senhorita de Capuchos regarded her thoughtfully, and a little strangely.
“But that will not be for some time yet, will it, senhorita?” she stated rather than asked. Then she leaned forward and touched Caroline’s hand lightly. “I wonder if I might have a look at the nursery wing while I am here, Miss Worth? Dom Vasco explained to me that it is very deficient in suitable furnishings, and he has entrusted me with the task of putting it to rights for you. If I could have a look at the rooms I could decide about curtains, and so on. I shall be staying in Lisbon for the next few days, and I can go shopping while I am there.”
“Of course,” Caroline answered, and took her upstairs to the nursery, where Carmelita frowned in disapproval at the ugly furniture and the dismal paintwork, and declared that they would have to set to work with a will to transform the place. When she realised how cut off it was from this rest of the house her frowns began afresh.
“It is a pity Senhora Lopes has not insisted on something being done here long before this,” she observed, before they left the suite. “But then, of course,” smiling, “we do not often have children at the quinta.”
When Dom Vasco and Ilse returned she had already departed, but she left a note for Dom Vasco, which was entrusted to one of the servants to hand over to him.
Despite the fact that she insisted that she had had an utterly delightful drive, and had thoroughly enjoyed her lunch, Ilse did not look as if she had really enjoyed herself. She went straight up to her rooms and announced, a little petulantly, that she was going to rest. Dom Vasco received the note from the servant and his extremely thoughtful expression grew even more thoughtful.
He told Caroline that he would like to have a word with her in the library.
As soon as they were alone he paced up and down over the thick carpet, and without looking at her he said:
“Senhorita de Capuchos is a little concerned about the nursery. She is most concerned about the fact that it is not really a part of the main house, and in the event of fire there might be considerable danger.” His eyes met hers fully for the first time, and there was definite concern in the dark depths. “I’ll admit that this had not occurred to me, although I would have preferred it if Senhora Lopes could have fitted you into some other part of the house during the Marques’s stay here. There is a room that the child could use, but it would still mean that you would have to occupy the wing in the daytime, and at night you yourself would be forced to sleep there. Unless you would prefer to accept Carmelita’s offer and go and stay with her for a time?”
The offer took Caroline so much aback that she was unable to conceal her surprise.
“How kind of Senhorita de Capuchos!” she exclaimed.
The expression on his face was non-committal; she could not tell whether he agreed with her or not.
“Then you would like to take advantage of her offer?”
“Oh, no, no!” she exclaimed more hurriedly. “There is absolutely no need, because if a room can be found for Richard in the main house I can very well go on sleeping in the wing. I’m not afraid of fire, or anything like that; although—” and she smiled because she couldn’t help it—“the plumbing arrangements in the bathroom are a bit antiquated. Only this morning the shower went out of action, and the pipes make horrible noises at times, as if they’re about to blow up—”
“What!” he exclaimed, as if he was genuinely shocked. “You can’t possibly go on living under conditions like that! I assure you I had no idea ... Caroline, you must please understand that I wouldn’t—”
But she shook her head, laughingly.
“Senhor, it is nothing, honestly! Nothing terrible, that is. The plumber, I believe, has already been to have a look at the pipes, and not merely is the shower working again but he assures us that we’re not in any danger. Nothing will blow up! The noises may continue, but they won’t bother me.”
Dom Vasco sighed.
“Well, that is a relief, if you really mean what you say.”
“I do! ... Of course I do!”
Their eyes met and held, and her chest seemed to grow tight as the breath caught in her throat and she felt as if it was suspended while his eyes alter
ed their expression and grew warm as she had seen them the night before. And he had called her Caroline again ... almost as if it had slipped out!
“I would offer my own house, or a part of it, but local opinion would not approve of that, since I am a bachelor,” with a dryness that, in itself, was something of a surprise. “And Carmelita’s house is several miles from here, and that would be most inconvenient for you.”
But it would enable you to see more of Carmelita, if you made visiting the child an excuse, she thought.
“And from the point of view of Senhorita de Capuchos I’m sure it would be better if you remained here. So, if you don’t mind putting up with the noisy pipes for a time—” and this time they both exchanged smiles, which made her feel as if she had suddenly inherited the entire world, “and will allow Richard to be separated from you at night, we might continue a little longer as we are. And as I would prefer you to do, until better plans can be made for you!”
And although she wondered what he meant by “better plans” it didn’t seem to matter very much, for he was holding out his hand to her, and suddenly, to her astonishment, he was actually apologising to her in a warm, deep, anxious voice that rang like a carillon of bells in her ears.
“Am I forgiven, Caroline? I know I had no right to speak to you as I did this morning, and I had no right to speak to you so sharply last night ... But you provoked me,” with a whimsical smile on his lips that was most attractive. “You really did provoke me!”
“I’m sorry,” she answered, and she didn’t bother to ask how, or why, she had provoked him, because his fingers were gripping hers very closely, and all sorts of electric currents were running up and down her arm as a result of their linked hands. There was one moment when she was certain he was experiencing some difficulty in letting her hand go; and then he dropped it as if it had started to burn him, and turned away from her abruptly.
“We will see how things work out,” he remarked. “And Carmelita can go ahead with her schemes to make the nursery more habitable.”
For the next few days a kind of amnesty seemed to have been signed between them, and he went out of his way to be quite charming to her whenever they met. But, although she joined the Marques and Ilse for meals when they were alone, when guests were invited she resolutely declined to add to the numbers, and arranged for herself and Richard to have their meals served to them upstairs in the despised nursery wing.
This happened several times when Dom Vasco and Carmelita arrived to lunch, and on one occasion to dinner ... And afterwards Dom Vasco sought her out and demanded, with a black frown linking his brows as if he was seriously annoyed, why this new arrangement was becoming a kind of habit.
She looked him levelly in the eyes, and replied quietly.
“I think it is best, senhor. You must realise that I am not a guest here, and I feel happier having meals alone with Richard in the nursery. It is entirely different if the senhora and the Marques are alone, and as you yourself once pointed out to me I am quite unfamiliar with the people who visit here, and I do not know their circumstances. Unwittingly I might have got Senhor Rambozi into disfavour with the young woman you all expect him to marry...”
“Touché!” he exclaimed drily. “I asked for that. But, believe me, I will not allow this state of things to continue.” He seemed to bite rather hard at his lower lip. “For you it is unsuitable, and for me—well, we will leave it!” and he walked away from her.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
ALMOST daily, however, he arrived at the quinta to take Ilse for drives, and as the Marques preferred sitting in the garden or his library to scouring the countryside the arrangement seemed to strike him as a happy one. Whether or not it struck Carmelita as a happy one Caroline was unable to tell, but it so often happened that there was no one apart from the Marques to receive her when she arrived at the quinta, that she must have begun to realise that a great deal of Dom Vasco’s time was being devoted to the beautiful English widow.
Ilse, Caroline could tell, was becoming more and more sure that she would never have to leave Portugal, and that Dom Vasco was the reason why. She boasted to Caroline of his attentiveness, the amount of consideration he showed her, and it never apparently worried her in the least that Carmelita might be expecting him to marry her one day.
According to Ilse’s codes all was fair in love and war, and she admitted quite frankly to Caroline that she had fallen in love with the dark, distinguished Portuguese, who was so unlike her first husband, although he, too, had been a Portuguese.
“But Carlos gave way to me all the time, and Vasco I know, would not,” she confessed to Caroline. “He could be a little cruel, but not to the woman he loved ... that much I do know,” with a vaguely reminiscent smile. “He has strange, old-fashioned ideas about women, and he would be possessive-dominating! But a husband who would dominate and adore at the same time would be quite something, wouldn’t he?” turning glistening green eyes on Caroline. “I give you my word, my dear, that it is only a question of time before he proposes to me.” Caroline, who was tidying one of her drawers for her, felt suddenly sick.
“You are so sure?” she said.
“As sure as a woman can be when a man insists on behaving like a perfect gentleman every time he takes her out. But I go by the signs ... the fact that he does take me out almost daily, that he is obsessed with Richard’s future, and talks about it constantly; that he is unmarried and badly needs a wife ... That much he admitted to me! That his home lacks feminine touches, and he asked me to advise him on certain alterations, including a lot of refurnishing, that he hopes to carry out before the wine-harvest. After the wine-harvest he is going away... I feel reasonably certain on a honeymoon!”
Caroline felt as if someone had given her an unexpected blow that had left her stunned.
“And when I told him that I thought a honeymoon should be a long, leisurely affair, not just a snatched couple of weeks, he agreed with me. He even consulted me as to the ideal spot for a honeymoon.”
“And he agreed about that, too?” came faintly from Caroline, as she rescued a diamond brooch from the clutches of a chiffon scarf.
“Yes, darling; he agreed about that, too. Wonderful, isn’t it?” and Ilse sounded like a cat that had lapped up several saucers of cream. Her green eyes gleamed like a contented cat’s. “What a pity you can’t find some nice man and marry, sweetie,” she said, as she started making up her face for lunch. “If you stay on and look after Richard when I’m married I’ll find you someone ... I promise!”
But the promise didn’t merely revolt Caroline; it made her wonder how soon she ought to insist on being allowed to go home to England. It was now the middle of August, and if Dom Vasco was planning to marry before the wine-harvest...!
She made up her mind that she would have a word with the Marques at the next opportunity. Surely he would understand that she had to go? That if she stayed...
Oh, no, she couldn’t possibly stay ... not now! Not after her conversation with Ilse! And her hands shook as she washed Richard’s face, and combed his hair for lunch. Inwardly she felt as if she wanted to weep.
And yet what was there to weep over? Dom Vasco had never given her a crumb of encouragement, and in the beginning he had hardly noticed her. The fact that once or twice some curious electric disturbance had seemed to happen in the atmosphere between them meant nothing—nothing at all!
She had merely allowed her imagination to work overtime. In future it would be severely restricted and curbed.
Ilse was triumphant when Dom Vasco announced that he was giving a dinner-party for her. It was to be at his house, and the arrangements were quite lavish. A very large number of people were invited.
Caroline received an invitation from Dom Vasco himself. Not that it was really an invitation. He merely said curtly to her, when he saw her, that he expected she would make an arrangement with one of the maids to keep an eye on Richard—Just in case anything should go wrong with him at night—while she paid
her first social visit to his house. Caroline answered at once that it was not part of her job to entrust Richard to anyone else, and despite the fact that he appeared to become quite annoyed with her she insisted on sticking to her refusal.
“But this is absurd,” he declared angrily. “You cannot remain shut up here in the nursery wing for ever!”
“I don’t intend to do so, Dom Vasco,” she assured him calmly. “I shall be going home to England before long!”
“You will—what?”
“I shall be going home to England before very long.”
He grasped her wrist. For the first time she felt his long fingers actually bruising her wrist, and his voice sounded thick with a strange sort of emotion as he spoke to her.
“There is someone in England you can’t wait to see?” he suggested, the words sounding like drips of ice.
“Perhaps,” she agreed.
“And yet,” he reminded her, that strange thickness at the back of the coldness in his voice, “not very long ago you told me that you had few friends in England. And certainly not one of any importance!”
“That was some time ago,” she replied, and the casual indifference of her tone bereft him of the power to say anything more. He turned away.
“Very well,” he said, as if the matter had ceased to be of any importance to him. She was an obstinate young woman whom he had wished to include amongst his guests, and she had refused ... and that was enough!” Make yourself as useful to Senhora de Fonteira as you can during the remainder of your stay here,” he requested. “I was hoping that you might have been an excellent companion for her, but apparently you have other plans. Good morning, senhorita!”
Caroline leaned against the nursery door when he had gone, feeling the need of support. Her affaire had been finally shipwrecked ... they were floating like flotsam on the dreary ocean that represented the whole of her future life.
He had wanted to keep her in Portugal because she would have made a useful little companion for Ilse! Someone who spoke English to whom Ilse could unburden herself occasionally, and who would, of course, be useful with Richard! And because she had refused he had been furious!
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