The Spanish Uncle

by Jane Corrie

  She gave herself a mental shake. These were hypothetical musings, but she was certain that Don Emilio's thoughts had been more or less 'on the 'same lines as hers. In which case, she thought ironically, she ought to seriously consider accepting his offer.

  Her knees had not quite gained their flexibility when

  she got up from the bed and started to prepare herself for bed. Her fingers were on the top of her dress zip when a loud rapping on the door made her still their action. She had no need, to ask who was demanding entrance; only one person would invade her privacy at this time of night.

  For a moment or so she thought that if she kept quiet he might assume that she had gone to bed and have her in peace, but at his autocratic second round of raps she knew that if she did not let him in, he would rouse the whole house.

  With hands that slightly trembled she opened the door to him, hoping that he would say what was on his mind outside the door, without the need to enter, but it was a forlorn hope as she watched him sweep into the room and calmly and deliberately close and lock the door behind him.

  At this extremely worrying action of his Mary tried not to show her panic, assuring herself that all he was doing was making sure that they were not interrupted by Isabel who was just as likely to join them at any. moment, considering that she must have heard Rafael's furious demand to speak to Mary, and where Rafael was concerned she had no inhibitions.

  She glanced up at him briefly and then down at the floor, not liking the glint in his eyes as he stood in front of her with his feet planted slightly apart in a manner rather reminiscent of a tiger about to pounce on its prey.

  'Are you going to marry my father?' he demanded without preamble, and Mary was surprised at the underlying fury in his voice.

  She wished she could tell him to mind his own business, but the sad fact was that it was his business,

  and even if it wasn't, she wouldn't have the courage. She swallowed. 'Well?' he demanded angrily.

  'I don't know,' she managed to get out, still refusing to look at him.

  'I see,' he said furiously. 'You mean you are thinking about it, do you? Well, might I point out a few relevant facts that might not have occurred to you before. Do you realise that if you accept his proposal and not mine, you will become my stepmother?'

  Mary blinked up at him as her tired brain assimilated this startling fact, then she closed her eyes, attempting to shut out an irresponsible but extremely amusing thought of what it would feel like to have him call her 'Mother'.

  In her weak state she was totally unable to forestall the chuckle that escaped as her imagination took flight. The next moment he had grasped her shoulders in an iron hold and she winced as his steely fingers cut into her soft flesh.

  'Think it's amusing, do you?' he ground out through clenched teeth. 'Then let's see how amusing you find this,' and he pulled her into his arms with a force that took her breath away.

  The next minute he was kissing her in a way that no stepson should ever kiss his stepmother, but Mary was beyond any such thought. As soon as the initial shock had worn off, she found utter delight in the touch of his firm lips on hers. She didn't even mind the fact that the kisses were meant to punish her, as savage as they were she felt a surge of happiness flow through her and only wanted to cling with all her might to the man she now knew she loved with all her heart.

  As suddenly as he had taken her in his arms he released her, leaving her feeling lost and bewildered as

  he stood looking at her through narrowed eyes, and there was a look of undisguised triumph in his that made her turn abruptly away from that. all too knowing look of his and stare down at the floor.

  She closed her eyes. He had made her feel a wanton. It wouldn't occur to him that she loved him, she thought bitterly. She was just another woman that he could manipulate by his sheer male dominance over

  her.

  'Look at me, Mary,' he commanded autocratically.

  Mary dumbly shook her head. He had got what he had wanted, she couldn't marry his father now. 'I can't,' she said in a low tone. 'Please go.'

  He ignored her request and placed .a long lean finger under her chin and made her look up at him. 'You can and you will,' he said softly. His eyes went searchingly over her face and then with the same deliberation that he had used before, he kissed her again. 'Now will you marry my father?' he queried softly.

  Mary felt a wave of helplessness wash over her. He was willing to make love to her to save his father from falling into her clutches. 'Would you rather I went away?' she asked wearily, steadfastly meeting his eyes to show him that she had got the message and that there was no need for any further demonstration of affection from him.

  'Yes, I would rather that than see you marry him—or anyone! ' he added ferociously.

  'Very well then,' she said dully, 'I shall make my arrangements.'

  'You may safely leave all that to me,' replied Rafael magnanimously, and caught hold of her hand and lifted it to his lips. 'You will not regret it, Mary, I promise you.'

  When he had left her Mary stood staring at the closed door. If the house had been on fire she still could not have moved from the position. She had known unhappiness before, but nothing like this. A short while ago two men had wanted to marry her, but each was intent on saving her from the other.

  Don Emilio at least had had a selfless motive, but Mary had seen the look of relief that he had quickly masked when told of Rafael's prior claim to her hand.

  She thought of Rafael's words that she would not regret her decision. He intended to make a substantial settlement for her cooperation obviously, and not only that, she thought wildly, he was even willing to arrange her swift departure from the scene! She could even imagine the scene at the airport with him thrusting a thick envelope into her hand just before she , boarded her flight back to England.

  'No!' she whispered vehemently; she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her off his territory—not even off his own premises!

  With a calmness she had not thought herself capable of, she started packing, glad to have something to do to take her mind off the wretched situation that she now found herself in. She took everything but the three evening dresses that Rafael had so thoughtfully provided in order that she should not disgrace the family. Next she checked that she had her passport and money, and found with a sigh of relief that she had ample to cover her return journey, so there were no problem there.

  Her next thought' made her sit down abruptly on the bed again; how very clever of her, she thought bitterly. She had thought of everything but how she was going to leave the villa and get to the airport! She

  could not possibly ring for a taxi since the telephone was in the hall and the chances were that Rafael would come across her making the call, for it was his habit, she had noticed, to have a last cigar on the patio before retiring.

  For the next few seconds she sat in a maze of despair; would nothing go right for her. Even when she tried to bow out of what had become an impossible situation, her escape route was blocked.

  It was then that she thought of Joan Santos and a fresh wave of hope flowed over her. Joan would help her—she was certain of it !

  Her mind made up, she went around the room making sure that she left it in good order, for she had an ingrained sense of tidiness. As she passed the larger of her two cases she thoughtfully picked it up and tested its weight. It was heavy, and by the time she had reached Joan's home she would know just how heavy it was. She sighed; well, she would just have to stop now and again and take a rest.

  A glance at her watch told her that if she was going to arrive at Joan's before they retired for the night she would have to leave soon.

  When she was finally satisfied that everything was in order and that she had everything that belonged to her, she opened the communicating door from her room to Enrique's and went quietly to the side of his bed and stood looking down at the sleeping child.

  With no little concern she saw that he had been cryi
ng in his sleep, for the tear stains were visible on his flushed cheeks. As she watched him he gave a little yelp of fright; he was having a nightmare.

  `Wake up, darling,' she said softly, and gently shook him awake. He opened two large sleepy eyes and

  blinked at her, then as the memory of the dream came back to him he clutched her fiercely. 'I'm not going to be a matador,' he said fervently.

  Mistaking the reason for outburst and the bad dream he had had, she murmured comfortingly; 'They don't suffer long, darling, so it's not really as bad as it looks.'

  Enrique plainly had not heard her, or if he had, her words had meant nothing to him. He shivered and buried his head in her breast. 'It was such a big bull,' he muttered, 'and so fierce, it nearly got him,' he shivered. 'I was frightened,' he said simply.

  Mary gently pulled him away from her and gazed down into his puckered face. 'But he was all right, wasn't he?' she queried softly.

  'He nodded and gulped. 'Well then,' went on Mary, 'that's fine, isn't it? Matadors know what 'they're doing, pet. They wouldn't last long if they didn't. Do you want a hot drink? she asked him quickly to take his mind off the subject.

  He shook his head, and then grinned suddenly at her. 'Perhaps I will be a matador,' he declared stoutly, and the next minute he had snuggled down again and was soon fast asleep.

  There were tears in Mary's eyes as she gazed down at him: He was his father's son all right. How proud Enrique would have been of him, not to mention Sheila.

  At this thought her hands clenched by her side; she couldn't leave him. She looked down at the damp spot on her dress where his face had been pressed against it. He was not normally a demonstrative child. Wholly boyish, he hated any outward sign of affection, but on rare occasions would give her a fierce hug, telling her in a way that no words could convey that he loved her.

  And here she was, Mary thought bitterly, on the point of walking out of his life simply because her pride had been hurt. Oh, there were other considerations, of course, but it all came down to that in the end, she thought, as she went back into her room and softly dosed the door between them.

  Her glance fell on her cases packed and ready to be picked up and taken with her on her flight from Spain, and she shook her head wearily at them. She would have to let Rafael do the arranging after all. There was Don Emilio, too, she thought sadly, and she wondered how she could have contemplated going without saying goodbye to him and thanking him for his kindness.

  She passed a weary hand over her forehead; it seemed she hadn't been thinking straight,. and no wonder, after the traumatic events of the evening.

  Her shoulders squared. She would see Don Emilio in the morning and make it quite dear to him that she had no intention of marrying either of them, but was quite willing to stay at the villa in the capacity of companion to Don Emilio and mother to Enrique.

  Not that this arrangement would suit Rafael, but Mary could see no other solution to the problem, and was too tired to come up with any other possibility.

  She overslept the following morning, and found that Enrique had gone with Rafael and Isabel to Isabel's home, As she could not see Isabel inviting him along for the ride, Mary had an astute guess that Rafael had manoeuvred his presence to avoid any histrionics from Isabel, and to make certain that he returned to the villa at a reasonable hour.

  Their absence was a relief for Mary, as she knew that she could now see Don Emilio and talk to him

  without fear of interruption from Rafael.

  She ate a solitary breakfast on the patio, and rehearsed what she would say to Don Emilio. She didn't want to hurt his feelings, but it was really time that she asserted her position, and she was forced to give a reluctant smile as she recalled Isabel's charge of her

  'tiptoeing' about the place in the past.

  To someone of Isabel's tempestuous nature, it must have appeared so to her, and Mary could quite understand why she had thought that it was all an act to ingratiate herself into the Alvarados's good books. She would not understand that it was Mary's nature to stay in the background.

  It was after ten when Mary had finished her breakfast, and she was just debating whether to go for a walk and sit by the fountain until she could make her visit to Don Emilio, when the young maidservant appeared and told her that she was wanted on the telephone.

  For a moment Mary wondered if the call was for Isabel and not her, for Isabel had received many calls during her visit. Her brows were raised in query as she asked the girl, For me?'

  The girl nodded her head and smiled at Mary shyly. `Si, Senorita Allis,' she said firmly.

  As Mary followed her back into the villa she wondered who could be ringing her, then she thought of Joan. Joan would know that Isabel was leaving that morning and had probably rung her to arrange a get together. She had not seen Joan since Isabel's arrival and found herself looking forward to one of their homely chats; she had such a sensible outlook on life and at that moment in time Mary badly needed some

  one to talk to, and someone who would understand her dilemma.

  She picked up the receiver expecting to hear Joan's voice on the other end of the line, and was surprised when a strange voice asked if she was speaking to Senorita Allis.

  When Mary confirmed this, the woman then asked if it would be convenient for her if they came that afternoon to see to the fitting.

  Mary stared at the receiver. She didn't know how it had happened, but it appeared that they had not only got the wrong number but the wrong Senorita Allis. 'I rather think you've got the wrong number,' she said, and waited for the usual apology, but it did not come; instead the woman asked, 'It is Senorita Mary Allis that I wish to speak to, are you not her?'

  Mary blinked, and answered in a puzzled voice, 'Yes, I'm Mary Allis, but I know nothing about a fitting. A fitting for what?' she asked curiously.

  The woman on the other end of the telephone gave a coy chuckle, 'These men,' she said, 'they are so anxious to get on with affairs ! The Alvarados family have been patrons for this house for many years, and I can assure you that your wedding dress will be the finest that the house can offer.'

  `Wedding dress?' queried Mary in a strangled voice. `On whose orders?' she managed to get out, holding her breath for the answer.

  'Senor Alvarados, of course,' replied the now affronted owner of the salon. 'Of course, if you want to place your order elsewhere—'

  'Oh, no,' interrupted Mary hastily. 'I'm sorry, but could you tell me when this order was given to you?' The woman was still puzzled, but she complied

  readily enough. 'Why, this morning, senorita, and as we were given to understand that Senor Alvarados wishes the gown to be completed within a month, it is essential that we get an early fitting.'

  The hall started swinging round in front of Mary's eyes and she had to clutch at the bureau that she was standing beside. How could Rafael have ordered a wedding dress for her that morning when he had agreed the previous evening that she should leave Seville?

  Her spinning thoughts were halted by a plaintive, `Senorita, are you still there? Might I suggest three this afternoon for the first fitting?'

  `I—very well,' replied Mary, trying to inject a note of authenticity into her voice. What did it matter when they came? Mary would just refer them to Rafael and he could tell them why their services would not be required, it was his worry, not hers!

  Mary went up to her bedroom to give herself a little time to compose herself before she went to see Don Emilio. Questions were darting about in her head to which she had no answer. It simply did not make sense, not unless Rafael had had a brainstorm, and at this possible theory she slowly shook her head. If anyone was completely in control of himself it was Rafael

  Alvarados. She bit her lower lip; could Rafael have gone to see his father again after talking to her? Supposing he had, and Don Emilio had refused to let Mary go? Wouldn't that make him decide to go ahead and marry her himself?

  Mary recalled how vehement he had been on the subject of her m
arrying Don Emilio, and, positively savage on the question of her becoming his stepmother. She nodded her head slowly; yes, that alone was enough to force his hand since she would have precedence over

  any decision he made over Enrique in the future, and how he would hate that!

  Now having sorted out things in her mind and certain that she had the answers, she tidied her hair and took a deep breath, then went down to see Don Emilio.

  Don Emilio's welcoming smile made her give him an answering one, yet she had meant to be solemn and to show him that she had no intention of having her future arranged for her by the Alvarados's, no matter how kindly meant, where Don Emilio was concerned, anyway.

  'And how is my future daughter In law feeling this morning?' he asked her with a twinkle in his eyes.

  If anything was likely to give Mary a lead, that remark was. She eyed him sternly and answered with a gleam in her eye, 'I'm afraid I shall not become your daughter in law.' At his sudden look of consternation, she went on, more gently this time, 'Last night I told you that I was considering marrying Rafael, not that I had agreed. I also told you the truth when , I said that I had given him no encouragement to believe that I would say yes to his proposal.' Her head was held high as she added firmly, 'Well, now I've decided. I shall not marry him,' she concluded on a note of finality. 'And as for your kind proposal,' her eyes lost some of their determination and she gave him an apologetic smile, 'I'm honoured that you should have asked me, but perfectly honestly there was no need, you know. I shall be

  happy staying and keeping you company? She gave a light shrug of her slim shoulders. 'I was wrong in thinking I could walk off and leave Enrique. You knew that, didn't you? and that was why you thought you ought to propose to me, to keep me here.' She patted his hand lying on the counterpane. 'Well, you