Alexandra smiled reassuringly. ‘Only a slight headache.’
‘Do you still want to visit my ganaderia this morning, or would you rather rest here in the shade? It’s very warm today,’ he said with his usual consideration.
‘I’d be delighted to visit your ranch,’ she said hastily, instinctively knowing it would be a better idea for them to be among people, talking about bulls and bullfighting, than be alone together. She knew that if they were to sit quietly in the shade of a flame tree, in the romantic Hernandez gardens, a more intimate conversation would be bound to ensue, one she wanted to avoid at all costs.
‘Let’s go then!’ he announced cheerfully, attempting to take her by the arm. When she gently evaded his touch, he didn’t seem to worry unduly, no doubt putting her gesture down to the headache.
‘The ganaderia isn’t far,’ he explained, as they drove off in his red Pegaso Z.‘It’s an integral part of the estate and borders our hacienda’s orchard. You can see it from the top-floor windows of Hernandez, the ones overlooking the inner courtyard.’
‘I haven’t paid much attention to the scenery on that side of the house,’ she admitted. ‘I’m much too fascinated by the constantly changing views of the Sierras on the other side. I could look at them for hours.’
Other than that brief exchange, Alexandra and Don Felipe barely spoke during the short journey to the ranch. Soon, the car stopped in front of a big pair of iron gates, on which the Herrera family coat of arms was embossed in gold. Two wardens in sombreros, with lances in their hands, hurried to open the gates and the car passed through in a cloud of dust.
Bordering the drive was a stand of ilex trees, under which the herd was slumbering peacefully in the shade. As Don Felipe helped her out of the car, a breath of hot air caught Alexandra full in the face. Her head was throbbing from lack of sleep, as well as a growing feeling of anxiety, but Felipe seemed not to notice there was a tension in her quietness.
‘As I explained to you before,’ he said, while they strolled across the field of short, tufty grass, ‘being a ganadero is to have a love and respect for ancestral traditions but also to belong to a long line of ranchers, which, in my case, starts only with me. However, I intend to remedy that. Together, Alexandra, we’ll create a dynasty of the best ganaderos.’
Alexandra felt herself blush under the intensity of his gaze. He moved closer to her, obviously having taken the deepening pink in her face as a sign of girlish modesty. She edged away, wanting to put as much space between them as she could. Inwardly she cursed herself for having let things slip this far: it was not in her nature to deceive and she despised herself now for her duplicity. She was so tempted to tell him that she didn’t love him and could not agree to marry him. Still, she hesitated for fear of causing some dreadful calamity; the earlier heated exchange with Juanita only fuelling her misgivings. Moreover, there was something hard as onyx in his coal-black eyes, and part of her quailed at discovering what might happen when she unburdened herself of the truth … a touch of cowardice, she admitted to herself, of which she was not proud.
‘I bought this ganaderia six years ago with great difficulty,’ Don Felipe explained, jolting her from her reverie. ‘One cannot become a ganadero without buying the land, the herds and the family brand from the owner. I’ve now registered my own brand. I want my ranch and bulls to be wholly identifiable as mine, without being connected in anyone’s mind with the family who had the place before. Two years ago, I was accepted as a member of our new Breeders Association and today I’m proud to be one of the suppliers of bulls for the fiesta brava.’
As he spoke, Alexandra’s attention drifted again, enraptured by the sight of the distant Sierras. She forgot her headache, and was hardly aware of his words, as she gazed at the snow-capped peaks rearing up, level upon level, as if striving to reach the highest heaven with their silent prayer. Why did these mountains remind her so of Salvador? It seemed to her that their sublime muteness contained a message she needed to discover.
Aware of her fascinated gaze, the torero said tenderly: ‘I’ll take you to get a closer view of them soon. Would you like that?’
Amidst twinges of conscience once more, Alexandra swallowed hard and merely nodded, ignoring the quiet little voice in the back of her mind, telling her to come clean and get this ordeal over and done with.
‘I would have liked you to attend a tienta,’ the torero went on cheerfully, disregarding his companion’s awkwardness and no doubt putting it down to her earlier malaise. ‘Unfortunately, the season has passed, but we have all the time in the world to do these things together.’
Alexandra forced a smile. ‘You must forgive my ignorance, Don Felipe, but I have no idea what a “tienta” is,’ she confessed.
The torero flashed his brilliant smile. ‘Please, you must call me Felipe now. The tienta is the test to which every cow between the ages of one-and-a-half and three years is subjected in order to find out if she is suitable for breeding. The experiment is carried out in a small arena on the farm. It tests the animal’s courage, its fighting qualities and the boldness of its attack.’
‘Did you say cows, and not bulls?’
Don Felipe beamed, obviously delighted by the interest Alexandra was showing in his pet project. ‘You’ve hit upon the fundamental rule of the bullfight, how very clever of you … The corrida is the one and only time when man and bull meet face to face. When the bull comes out of the pen to confront the bullfighter in the arena, they’re total strangers to each other. In addition, the animal has never been fought. For this reason, the bullfighter must have a sound knowledge of his adversary’s ancestors, particularly its mother, to anticipate its likely reactions. Do you understand now?’
‘Yes, I understand a lot better, thank you. But I must admit, I still find all this slightly repulsive and more than a little dangerous.’
He laughed. ‘You have a faint heart, querida! Still, you’re right, it is dangerous for the ignorant, but not for the maestro,’ he concluded, his eyes shining with conceit as well as something Alexandra couldn’t quite fathom.
The sun was beating down mercilessly now. A hot resinous scent came from the ilex trees. They had walked a short way, to the edge of an isolated field, encircled by a low dry-stone wall. There, in the midst of the green pasture, looming large in the white light of midday, was a magnificent bull: dark, hunched and threatening-looking.
‘That’s the bull I will be up against tomorrow,’ the bullfighter announced proudly. His voice was slightly hoarse and, as Alexandra turned to him, she was shocked by the barbaric expression distorting his features. It was as if, forgetting her presence in proximity with the bull, something had been stripped away, laid bare, as he stared at the black snorting creature in the distance. And she was repulsed and a little scared by what she saw. His head was tilted slightly backwards, his eyes like those of an animal watching its prey. She shuddered. The torero’s face was an odious mask of arrogance and cruelty.
A wave of uneasiness swept over Alexandra. The sun was scorching yet she felt ice-cold and dizzy. She took a step forward and faltered; she would have fallen but with his usual alertness Don Felipe put out an arm and caught her.
‘It’s too hot for you.’ His face was now a mask of kindly concern. ‘You’re not used to our weather and here am I lecturing you selfishly, without a thought to your wellbeing.’ He helped her walk to a jacaranda tree, where he sat her down on the low stone wall in the shade. ‘There, you’ll feel better now. It’s cooler here and there’s a breeze blowing from the Sierras. It was very inconsiderate of me, I do apologize.’
Alexandra closed her eyes. She managed a shake of the head. ‘No, no, no, it has nothing to do with the sun. I’ve not been feeling well since this morning. Really, it isn’t your fault. I’m fine now but I do think we should be making our way back,’ she suggested, easing herself up.
The dizziness had gone but the strange sensation that had swept over her earlier persisted until lunch. Fortunately, Doña
Inés was able to join them at the Hacienda Herrera. Ever sensitive, she kept up an amusing conversation about her morning’s session with her lawyer as they began the meal and so, for the most part, Alexandra was able to maintain a grateful silence.
For the first time, they were taking lunch in the dining room. Don Felipe thought it would be cooler than the veranda overlooking the south gardens, where they usually ate if they were having lunch at his house, especially as this room was north facing and, on some days, was blessed with a fresh breeze. The room was tastefully decorated with antique Moorish tiles on which were inscribed a number of Arab motifs and letters. The floor consisted of bare flagstones, which Alexandra assumed would need to be covered with carpets during the winter months to provide insulation from the cold.
Her eyes moved to the great white wall and remained there, transfixed. It was bare of everything but a display of ancient armour — long whips, a number of old swords and other curious archaic objects with hooks and spikes, which she could not immediately identify. The sight made her shudder. Why would the torero have such a perverse-looking display on his dining-room wall? She wondered, with a sinking feeling, if he ever took them down, handled them with those dextrous long fingers. She noticed that Doña Inés seemed unaffected by their presence. Perhaps it’s just me, she concluded. Nonetheless, all through lunch, Alexandra struggled to stay focused and her eyes kept flitting to the wall.
They’d just finished lunch, and Doña Inés had left the room momentarily to fetch her hat, when Don Felipe said to Alexandra, as if reading her mind: ‘They’re a collection of old instruments of torture dating from the eleventh century. Some were used in the Inquisition.’
Alexandra had already guessed this, but hadn’t wanted to admit it.
‘Do they interest you?’
‘No, not really,’ she replied coolly.
‘But I was watching you, querida,’ he said softly. ‘You were staring at them during the whole meal. They fascinate you, don’t they?’ His tone was velvet, but there was an eagerness there.
Alexandra felt uncomfortable under the torero’s gaze. ‘I admit I was looking at them,’ she answered calmly, trying to ignore the unpleasant quickening of her pulse. ‘But it was out of curiosity rather than real interest. I’ve never seen such strange devices and wondered what they were for.’
The bullfighter walked up to the wall. Alexandra followed him unwillingly, dismayed but not wanting him to notice this. Why did Don Felipe suddenly inspire in her such repulsion, even fear? And why was she now so anxious to flee this place? What was this bizarre feeling she had, of being gradually drawn into a deep and threatening abyss? Surely she was being ridiculous, she told herself. This was the same man she had always found considerate, kind and respectful. Why the sudden change of heart?
Seen at close hand, the display of whips and lashes, of chains and irons of all sizes and thicknesses, as well as the other more complicated instruments from the Inquisition, left no doubt as to their nature and function. In a flash, Alexandra remembered the blood-curdling moonlight battle between Don Felipe and Salvador. A chill ran up her spine and a longing to see Salvador again flooded her heart.
The voice of her host reached her through a mist. ‘I’ve heard these objects have come into fashion again … for … how should I put it … other purposes.’ Alexandra couldn’t look at him now and wanted more than anything to be somewhere else. She dearly wished that Doña Inés hadn’t left the room. What did she think of these distasteful objects? Maybe she was simply inured to them.
‘Most of these pieces are originals. They’ve cost me a small fortune,’ Don Felipe was saying, his eyes darkening. ‘They’re very dear to me.’ Then, seeing how pale Alexandra had become, he added solicitously, ‘You should have a lie down, querida. It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have dragged you with me this morning.’
‘No, no, I should have taken the precaution of wearing a hat …’ she protested quickly,‘but I think I should have a rest, back at the hacienda.’
‘Yes, you should. Have a long siesta, a good night’s sleep and a lie-in tomorrow morning.’ There was something in his tone that brooked no argument. ‘The corrida doesn’t start until the afternoon. You have plenty of time to relax and take it easy. Wear a large hat at the bullfight. Even though the seats are in the shade, you’d be wise to protect yourself against our vicious sun. You want to be well tomorrow evening to greet our guests.’
Had she heard correctly? Had he really said ‘our guests’? She instantly felt as if the walls were closing in on her. How far would this ridiculous masquerade have to go? It was one thing to be dealing with Don Felipe’s attentions face to face, quite another maintaining the deceit in a roomful of guests at a party. Her mind searched wildly for a way out. The corrida would have ended by then. Yes, once the spectacle was over she’d be able to be quite candid with him. He must be told the truth before the party, even if that meant her appearing callous and ungrateful. For now, she would simply have to keep quiet and stay out of the way.
To Alexandra’s relief, Doña Inés came back in just then. ‘You’re quite pale, my dear,’ she remarked with concern. ‘Is something the matter?’
‘Alexandra’s been overdoing it a little and has probably caught a touch of sunstroke,’ the torero hurriedly interjected. ‘I’m afraid I’m to blame, Madrina. I haven’t been looking after my guest as I should.’
‘I’d like to have a lie down now,’ said Alexandra, whose uneasiness was growing by the second.
‘I’ll drive you,’ Don Felipe said. ‘It’s much too hot for you to walk and …’
‘No, that’s all right,’ Alexandra interrupted quickly. She turned to Doña Inés, imploringly. ‘Doña Inés, if you don’t mind, I’d rather walk. It will only take us a few minutes, we can keep to the shade. Besides, the stroll will do me good.’
The Spanish woman regarded Alexandra with concerned eyes.
‘Of course, my dear. I must admit, I could do with a walk too,’ she said cheerfully. Faced with the young woman’s insistence, and his godmother’s acquiescence, the torero was forced to reluctantly let Alexandra go, and the two women took their leave.
Doña Inés’ home was only a short walk from the Hacienda Herrera; the two properties shared a communal wall. During lunch her attentive gaze had noticed the sudden awkwardness and change in Alexandra’s conduct. Now, she anxiously watched her young charge out of the corner of her eye.
‘You seem troubled, my dear. Yesterday evening you went to your room without any dinner. This morning, as far as I know, you only had a cup of coffee for breakfast, and during lunch today you scarcely touched your food.’
Alexandra smiled weakly, inwardly debating whether or not to take Doña Inés into her confidence. During her stay, the duenna had always been kind and generous towards her, showing her at times an expressive motherly affection which Aunt Geraldine, despite her obvious love for her niece, had never quite managed to display so openly. But still Alexandra kept her silence.
‘Don’t be afraid to talk to me, Alexandra,’ her companion continued solicitously. ‘I’m not trying to pry or be indiscreet but I feel there’s something seriously worrying you and I would like to help if it’s in my power. I think of you as my own child, you know. The daughter I so wanted but God refused me.’
They sat down in Doña Inés’ summer room, looking on to a cool, shady patio. There, while her hostess busied herself with some embroidery, Alexandra opened up to her friend. At last, after weeks of torment and soul-searching, she was able to unburden herself, her tangled thoughts and feelings tumbling out in a liberating torrent. She spoke of El Pavón and her love for Salvador, of how she had ended up in Granada, and of her various clashes with the gypsies. Finally, she told Doña Inés of her irresponsible behaviour towards Don Felipe, of his proposal of marriage and the misunderstanding which followed.
Doña Inés listened to her in silence, nodding at times approvingly, and at other times grimly shaking her head.
; ‘And that’s where I stand today,’ Alexandra at last concluded. ‘I really have got myself into an awful mess.’
Doña Inés looked up from her handiwork. ‘Yes, I can see you’ve landed yourself in a rather complicated situation,’ she said softly. ‘I hadn’t realized things had gone so far with young Felipe.’
‘Neither had I,’ admitted Alexandra. ‘His proposal took me completely by surprise. I knew he felt an attachment towards me … and I felt a certain admiration for him, but to ask me to marry him … I suppose I was flattered by the attention of such a charismatic personality, but that’s really no excuse, and I’m not trying to acquit myself of any blame. I realize now how frivolous and foolish I’ve been.’ She didn’t mention her growing unease about the cold cruelty she had begun to witness in the torero. Naturally it wasn’t something that seemed appropriate to discuss with his godmother. ‘I’ve no idea what to do now,’ she continued. ‘I know that this is probably difficult for you but I would dearly appreciate your advice …’
Doña Inés remained silent for a moment, as though considering what she was going to say. ‘I’m grateful for your confidence, Alexandra, and you can rest assured that our conversation won’t go further than this room. You understand,’ she went on, picking her words carefully, ‘Doña María Magdalena, Don Felipe’s mother, was my best friend and I’ve known Felipe since his infancy. To complicate matters, I’m also his godmother, and because of that he holds a special place in my affections. Obviously, I wish the best for him and, in choosing you, he has shown excellent judgement. Still, as I was telling you earlier, I’ve grown very fond of you over these past weeks, and the fact that you’ve trusted me enough to come to me with your problems puts me in a somewhat delicate position, you might say …’
Doña Inés concentrated on her embroidery for a while in silence. The only sounds were the gentle cooing of doves and the babbling of a fountain outside. But Alexandra noted the hesitation on the older woman’s face, and waited for her to continue.
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