by Jane Corrie
She would read to him from one of his favourite books, the English version, that was, for he had an admirable library selection in his study. On several occasions she would glance up at him to find that he had dropped off to sleep while she was reading to him, and then she would slip out of the room and return later to finish the chapter.
Whenever this happened he would always profusely apologise to her, and say with a twinkle in his eye that she had such a restful voice that she had lulled him to sleep but would she please wake him the next time, but of course Mary never did; sleep was essential for him if he was to regain his health.
This particular morning, however, he appeared to have something on his mind and whatever it was, it was worrying him.
When Mary asked him if he wanted her to read to
him and he refused with an impatient shake of the head she wondered if he would prefer to be alone, and she asked him if he wanted her to leave him.
This request brought a surprised look from Don Emilio as if that particular thought was furthermost from his mind, and then he gave her an apologetic smile. 'Sit down, Mary. I want to talk to you,' he said gently.
Mary now felt as worried as Don Emilio had looked, since she was certain that Rafael had told his father of his proposal to her and her obvious reluctance to accept it. There was no doubt in her mind that Don Emilio was about to add his sentiments on the matter and to urge her to accept.
'A little while ago,' he began slowly, fixing his dark eyes on Mary's now pale countenance, 'we talked of the future, and you were of the opinion that you felt that you would be unable to settle permanently here.'
Mary's large eyes left Don Emilio's and she looked at the counterpane on the bed. It wasn't going to be easy explaining why she had turned his son down—or rather why she would when the opportunity arose.
Don Emilio went on, 'I now want to ask you a question, and I want your honest answer, Mary. I am only seeking the truth. Has this decision of yours to eventually return to England anything at all to do with my son Rafael?'
Mary's eyes left the counterpane and flew to Don Emilio's. Whatever else she had expected him to ask her, it had not, been this. Her flush must have given her thoughts away as she saw him give a slight nod of confirmation on his own thoughts on the matter.
'I thought so,' he said quietly. 'I must tell you now that I once harboured a wish that Rafael and you—'
he was silent for a moment or so, then said, `But now I see that that was just wishful thinking.'
Mary's eyes searched his for a ,hint of duplicity, but she could see only tiredness in them. He did not know that Rafael had proposed to her, she thought. He couldn't know, and she was certainly not going to tell him. Her thoughts whiled about in her brain. She must tell him it wouldn't be fair not to, even though it meant that he was yet again to be disappointed since she had no intention of accepting him.
She swallowed quickly, `Don Emilio,' she began quickly before her courage deserted her, 'I must' was as far as she got as he gently patted her hand in a hushing gesture.
`Mary? You are fond of me, are you not?' he asked her suddenly, and at her swift nod, continued, `I believe that you need Enrique, as much as he needs you,' he said quietly and Mary wondered if he was going to suggest that she break her promise to him and take Enrique back to England with her, and she knew quite suddenly that she was not going to allow Don Emilio to let her do any such thing. Enrique belonged here, and he was happy. She miserably wondered whether she ought to accept Rafael's proposal after all; it was better than hurting such a fine man as Don Emilio.
As if sensing her thoughts the old man gave her a weary smile. 'It is very selfish on my part, Mary, that makes me make what must seem to you to be an extraordinary request. I need Enrique, too, and I have come to rely on your soothing presence in,my home.' He lifted up her small hand and held it lightly in his. 'I am asking you to stay, Mary, and I am asking you to accept my name.'
He gave a. wry smile at her astounded countenance,
for surely, she thought, he was asking her to marry him! 'You see how desperate I am,' he added gently, 'to ensure your presence. As my wife you need have no fear of the future—or of Enrique's happiness. I am asking nothing more of you than your company, my dear, and the surety that you will stay.'
Mary's eyes filled with tears of gratitude for Don Emilio's kindness and she wished with all her heart she could accept this proposal, and maybe she would, she thought, but not until she had given Rafael his answer. How could she possibly tell Don Emilio about that now?
Her confusion was evident to Don Emilio, who patted her hand again as he said gently, 'Don't worry about it, Mary, but do think about it. Let the thought linger in your mind, and come and tell me when you have decided.'
'When you have decided', thought Mary later, in the blessed silence of her room. There were slight shades of Rafael's proposal in those few words. Not 'if you decide', in other words even Don Emilio. in his gentle way had subtly bound her hands behind her back, making a refusal not only impossible, but impolite!
Somehow she had to tell Rafael of this new development since she would hate Don Emilio to suddenly find out that he had joined a queue of wouldbe suitors for her hand in marriage.
At this almost hysterical thought Mary walked across to the mirror on her dressing table and stared at her reflection. She saw no difference in her features; she was still plain Mary Allis with no pretensions to beauty. Rafael Alvarados had said her quietness was 'disturbing' and Don Emilio had said that she was 'soothing',
but neither compliment, if they could so be called, seemed a good enough reason for marriage.
They were not, of course, she reminded herself sceptically, but Enrique was. She could not have done better, she told herself sadly, if she had been the mercenary woman Rafael had thought her, and perhaps would still think her when she told him of Don Emilio's proposal, and she must do that as soon as possible.
She did not envisage any trouble in that direction. If anything, Rafael would be highly relieved to have the pressure of Mary's future taken off his broad shoulders, and would probably congratulate them both with heartfelt relief. Would he then marry Isabel? she wondered, and she was surprised at the sudden stab of jealousy she felt at this thought. She hadn't wanted him to marry Isabel before, but she had thought it was because of Enrique—and it was, she assured herself fervently, not wanting to admit to herself that there could have been any other reason. But there was no denying that now that Enrique's happiness was assured, she still did not want him to marry Isabel!
She placed her hands under her chin and rested her elbows on the dressing table staring at her reflection as if seeking the answer there. Had she come to like him that much? she thought. Did she so dislike Isabel that she felt that she would not make him happy? Don Emilio had the same thoughts on the matter, she defended herself, so it was not just her. No, it couldn't have been jealousy that she had felt, she told herself; you only felt jealous when you loved someone jealous of another woman, that was.
As it was Isabel's last night there, Mary chose her evening wear with more care than she had previously done. Only having the three evening dresses to choose
from, she had nothing new to match the array of finery Isabel had brought with her. Mary had been in the hall when her cases had arrived and had wondered if she had come prepared to spend several months there instead of the few weeks mentioned.
Mary had not always worn evening dress, but had sometimes settled for one of her light summer three quarter length, dresses, and this had helped to give her a little more variety. Tonight, she decided, she would wear the burgundy velvet dress. She had worn the other two dresses on different occasions, but she felt more comfortable in the velvet dress as she knew that it suited her.
If Mary had thought the previous evening's meal with Rafael and Isabel without the soothing presence of Don Emilio was uncomfortable, she soon discovered that there were different degrees of discomfort, and she wasn't sure which was
worse, receiving Rafael's undivided attention, or Isabel's furious glares
On the whole she would have preferred Isabel's glares, these she could contend with, but the look in Rafael's dark eyes as they rested on her was quite another thing. There was no doubt in Mary's mind that he was intent on willing her to accept his proposal. There was a strange magnetism in those looks of his that slightly frightened her. Almost, she mused, as if he looked upon her as his property already, and she knew with certainty that should Isabel throw a disparaging remark in her direction, she would receive the lash of a cutting remark from Rafael.
All, she mused bitterly, because of Enrique; her unhappy gaze rested on Isabel, dressed in a gorgeous gown of shimmering silver threads. Her lovely blue black hair was drawn back from her oval face with its mag
noliatinted skin. Her large dark eyes were at that moment pleading with Rafael to stop pretending that he cared for the plain Englishwoman and look at her, for what attraction could such a woman hold for a man like him? If Mary's deductions on Isabel's thoughts were correct, then she heartily agreed with them, but she had forgotten the child.
When Rafael tried to coerce Mary into joining them on an evening stroll in the garden after dinner, Mary pleaded tiredness and a wish to go to bed. With Isabel there she knew she would have no opportunity of a private word with Rafael, and was disinclined to further infuriate Isabel by accepting.
Since Don Emilio was confined to bed, Mary called in on him before she retired, and found that she was not the only one with this intention in mind, for Rafael and Isabel were there too—Isabel for the sole purpose of thanking him for his hospitality, for she would be leaving early in the morning. It was plain that she had no wish to go, particularly as her stay had not brought about her cherished hopes of a proposal from Rafael.
When she saw Mary, Isabel's disappointment got the better of her good manners and she took her unhappiness out on Mary, who would be staying at the villa long after her departure. 'I don't suppose I shall be seeing you again,' she said with acid sweetness. 'You'll be gone before I make my next visit. I still don't envy you the English climate, but I'm sure you'd be happier there than here. It's what you're used to that counts, isn't it?'
It was not so much her choice of words as the implication behind them, and she had not been referring to
the climate, Mary thought, but to the luxurious setting of the Alvarados home.
Mary saw no point in answering her since it was obvious that Isabel was a very unhappy woman and Mary felt a little sorry for her.
Don Emilio, however, had no such sentiments on the matter and highly resented Isabel's attitude to Mary. 'I believe you will find that your assumption that Mary would be happier in England totally incorrect. I sincerely hope so anyway, particularly as I have asked her to become my wife and have every hope of her acceptance,' he said stiffly, arresting Rafael's attention as he was hustling Isabel to the door to prevent any further unpleasantness.
Mary was only aware that for her time had stood still. There was a shocked hushed silence in the room that echoed not only her feelings but Rafael's and Isabel's, too. Isabel had her mouth open again, Mary noted abstractedly, her mind simply refusing to face up to the catastrophic result of Don Emilio's championship.
Her eyes flew to Rafael, and there was something in his tense stance that told her that far from being relieved of the necessity to provide for her future, he was absolutely furious. His searing gaze went from the quaking Mary to the proud determined face of his father, who could not have been unaware of the shock his statement had produced, and for a moment Mary sensed an antagonism between father and son that she had never dreamed was possible.
Rafael's gaze then returned to Mary, who wished she had the courage to run out of the room and bolt herself in her bedroom, such was the effect that his burning eyes had upon her, hut her legs refused to move and she had to just stand there. 'And when,' he
said softly but menacingly to her, 'did this proposal take place?'
As Mary was incapable of answering him, Don Emilio spoke for her 'This morning,' he replied haughtily. `Although I fail to see the reasoning behind your question.'
'You will,' promised Rafael harshly, 'when I tell you that I Was under the impression that the lady had accepted my proposal, made,' he said, slowly emphasising the last word, 'last night.'
There was a strangled gasp from Isabel, who rushed out of the room with a speed that Mary envied and miserably wished that she could emulate. Her horrified eyes went from Rafael to Don Emilio. 'That's not entirely true,' she cried, and her eyes pleaded with Don Emilio to believe her. 'Rafael did propose to me, but I gave him no cause to assume that I had accepted him. I did promise to think about it, and that's an entirely different thing,' she said indignantly.
She saw Don Emilio's eyes rest on his son when she had finished, and watched a variety of emotions pass over his autocratic face. There had been amazement mingled with doubt, then a look of wicked amusement hastily masked when he met Mary's anxious eyes. 'I think you had better leave us, Mary,' he said gently. 'And do not worry, you will not be coerced into doing anything you do not want to do,' he promised.
On returning to her room, Mary found Isabel waiting for her. She was not at all surprised; after the events , of the past hour she was beyond any expectation of peace.
`How clever of you,' purred the incensed Isabel. 'Tell me, which one will you choose? What does it feel like having two suitors to choose from?'
Mary surveyed Isabel's flashing eyes and highly flushed cheeks and the way her breast rose and fell in her emotional agitation. 'I think you know the answer to that better than I do,' she answered, deliberately avoiding the first question.
Isabel was not so easily put off. 'You haven't answered me! ' she said, her voice rising on an hysterical note. 'Who is the lucky man, Rafael or Don Emilio?' she demanded.
Mary was coming to the end of her endurance. 'I fail to see what business it is of yours,' she replied coldly. 'I may not marry either of them.'
Isabel's harsh laugh rang out across the room, and Mary winced at its obvious implication. 'As if I would believe that! ' she almost spat out at Mary. 'After all your hard work! The so quiet Mary Allis, tiptoeing about the place as if not to disturb anyone. Oh, yes,' she ground out at the swift look Mary gave her, 'I've noticed your little act of humble humility, and it worked, didn't it?' Her eyes were malicious as she added, 'If I were you I'd choose Don Emilio, it's my guess that Rafael only proposed to you because he'd some idea of what was in his father's mind.'
Mary watched her as she paced about the room in an attempt to contain her fury. 'And none of it would have happened if it 'hadn't been for that wretched child!' she burst out viciously. 'You do realise that, of course, don't you?' she hissed at Mary. 'For all your docile acts even Don Emilio would not have contemplated making such an unsuitable marriage, and Rafael would not have looked twice at you.'
'Might I remind you that "that wretched child", as you put it, happens to be Don Emilio's grandson, and Rafael's nephew,' Mary replied, now coldly furious her
self at the way Isabel was blaming everybody but herself for her misfortune.
`Oh, I hadn't forgotten that part of it,' Isabel ground out. `He wouldn't have married her, you know, no matter what you like to think, but it certainly gave you a rosy future, didn't it? Don Emilio wanted Rafael to marry me. Did you know that?' This was said in a whisper as her emotions thickened her voice, and as she met Mary's clear gaze she coloured and looked away quickly. He did! ' she replied vehemently to Mary's unspoken challenge of this statement. 'I knew by the way he kept asking me questions when I sat with him last night.' She swallowed. 'I tried to tell him that Rafael wanted to marry me, but something was holding him back,' her voice caught in a sob. 'Now I know what it was, but Don Emilio knew, didn't he? That's why he asked you to marry him so that Rafael, would be free to marry me.'
`Rafael is still free to marry you,' answered Mary wearily, 'if that's what he wants.' Her h
ead was beginning to ache and she wanted to be left in peace.
A ray of hope gleamed in Isabel's eyes at this calm statement of Mary's. 'Does that mean that you will marry Don Emilio?' she asked almost eagerly.
Mary shook her head wearily. 'I've already told you that it's' most unlikely that I'll marry either of them. You don't have to believe me and I'm sure that you don't, but there's nothing more I can add to that. Now will you please let me get some rest. It's been a long day.'
Isabel had to be content with this small crumb of comfort and grudgingly took her leave.
Mary's legs were weak as she sank down on her bed after 'Isabel had left. She now knew why Don Emilio
had proposed to her. Isabel had been 'partially right, yet not wholly So. She recalled how worried he had seemed when she had visited him in the morning, and she now knew what had caused that worry—Isabel’s , wishful thinking! She could almost visualise the scene with Isabel pouring out her version of how it was with her and Rafael, and it must have been a convincing performance to make Don Emilio take the only action he could think of to preserve Mary's happiness.
Mary gave a sad smile. He hadn't believed her when she had said that she could walk off and leave Enrique when she felt the time was right. There would be no happiness for her without the child she had cared for all those years. He had also known that there was
little chance of happiness for either her or Enrique,
if Rafael married Isabel.
With his kindly insight he had taken full note of the fact that Enrique did not like Isabel, and vice versa, and there wasn't much one could do about that unless Isabel underwent a drastic change of character and put.. someone's happiness before her own.
As his wife, Mary would have a right to not only stay in Spain, but to watch over Enrique. A right that would give her precedence over any whim of Isabel's that might threaten his happiness, such as having him sent away to a boarding school at the earliest opportunity and out of her and Rafael's vicinity, and thus have Rafael to herself.