“I hear he’s got some money coming from his grandfather’s estate. You know, old General Valaquez.” He tapped the desk with his pencil, as if snapping back from a daydream.
“They’ve taken their time settling that business, but actually Josefa, I think you might also be a beneficiary there. Or rather, your child is. I gather the old General left a quarter-share to each of his four daughters, or their descendants. So Dominga’s share will probably be coming to you, the mother of the old man’s coming great-grandchild. That’s what Santiago says Benecio told him, anyway.”
Josefa laid her hand over her middle suddenly feeling protective. “Really? I didn’t know. I’d never have thought . . . It’s as if—” She stopped herself, uncertain how to express what she was feeling. She gave a deep sigh. “I’m realizing more than ever that I’m the guardian of Rory’s line. He may not be here, but his child still needs someone to watch over him or her, don’t they? I mean, it’s not going to be Leo’s child. It’s still going to be Rory’s son or daughter and Leo gets to help raise it.”
“That’s right,” said Caleb. “And I wonder if he fully appreciates that.”
Josefa got up and paced slowly in front of the bench where they’d been sitting. “It always helps me to move while I’m thinking.” She grinned. “If that legacy’s confirmed, that’s another thing that really needs to be safeguarded as separate property. It’s not even really mine. It belongs to Rory’s child.”
Her eyes appealed for understanding, and Caleb nodded. “Strictly speaking, that’s right.”
“Ah, there you are! And what’s right?” Leo’s handsome form loomed from the direction of the stables, his eyes squinting in the sun’s glare, lips curved in an affectionate smile that revealed straight white teeth.
Josefa’s insides did a jump that had nothing to do with the baby’s movements.
He really is the most devastatingly good-looking man.
“Oh Leo, you’ve found us enjoying the sun.”
Josefa sounded unusually evasive.
“Seems so. How are you, Josefa? Everything all right?”
“Yes, of course. Come and sit down.” She moved along the bench to make space for him.
He shook his head. “I’m fine. So what’s going on? What am I missing out on?”
Caleb hesitated, as if waiting for Josefa to speak. There was a long silence. And then they both started talking at once.
Caleb stopped first. “Sorry, Josefa. You go.”
“Caleb was just explaining about your grandfather’s will. I gather he left an equal share to each of his daughters.”
Leo’s expression darkened without warning. She faltered.
“Did . . . did you know about that?”
“About what?” His stance was rigid, his arms folded across his chest.
“That General Valaquez left an equal share to each of his daughters, whether they were dead or alive, with instructions their share was to be passed to their descendants. That means that—”
Leo broke in before she could finish the sentence. “I am fully aware of what it means.”
Caleb braced his shoulders, as if expecting a counter-punch. “If it eventuates, Leo, we will need a clause to cover the child’s interests.” His eyes flashed in challenge. “Rory’s child, that is.”
“I am perfectly aware of who the father is, Caleb. I don’t need reminding.” Leo swiveled to face Josefa. “I think you and I need to have a good talk. In private.”
Josefa went to her brother later that day, her heart set on finding some middle ground. She was incredibly lucky a man like Leo was asking her to marry him, she thought. He was handsome, educated, came from a good family, he was intelligent, he wasn’t a drunkard . . .
As she stood with her hand poised to knock on Caleb’s office door she hesitated. Was she talking herself into this? Surely if she was certain, she wouldn’t have to be rehearsing all of the benefits of being Leo’s wife in her head? She shrugged the thought aside and knocked.
“Let me get this straight.” Caleb wrinkled his nose in that funny way he had when he didn’t like what someone was suggesting. She was certain he had no idea he did it, but it told her plainer than words what he thought of her instructions. “You’ll allow everything you own to become conjugal property, but your child’s share of the Valaquez estate will be under a separate contract. Is that what you’ve agreed should happen?”
Her stomach felt fluttery, nervous, as she nodded her agreement. “Yes. It was a compromise. Leo was pretty upset about it, but he agreed if I let all the rest go into the ‘legal conjugal community’ as I gather lawyers like him call it. He was pretty upset at being reminded it’s Rory’s baby.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “I hope he’s not going to resent this child.”
Caleb picked up his pen. “I’ll note your wishes to Tom Halliburton and get him to draw up a new contract. I know he won’t like it either, but if you’re certain . . .” He let the words hang in the air. “Well, we’ll get him onto it. You can start reading the banns.”
A shiver ran up Josefa’s body, from the soles of her feet to her neck. Is that anticipation or doubt?
“I’m marrying this man. You know the promise I’m about to make. ‘In sickness and in health, for richer, for poorer.’ I think he’s right when he says I need to be whole-hearted about it. And if I can help him get the partnership he so sorely craves, well, isn’t that what a good wife should do?”
Caleb’s face displayed none of the joy she’d have hoped to see when she was announcing she was certain of her man.
“I just hope for both of our sakes this works out. Josefa. I’d hate to see some of Rancho Del Oro mortgaged or sold to pay for Leo’s bad investments.”
20
Francine and Antal Esterhazy knew how to throw the best parties, where the guests felt special but the atmosphere was still relaxed. Josefa’s dress felt a little tight around the middle and she had kicked her shoes off under the table. But she couldn’t deny the frisson of excitement she felt at being here. After all, this was Rory’s family. If he was still here, he would no doubt be sitting next to her, instead of Leo. Though where Leo was, she wasn’t quite certain. The chair to her left was empty.
She leaned to her right to speak to Caleb’s fiancée Madeleine. The Frenchwoman and her brother had met four months ago and were planning to marry later this year, once the grape harvest was in. Madeleine’s brother Aristide was in charge of the Oro d’Vino enterprise and had also been commissioned to be their best man, so all had agreed it would be preferable to leave the festivities till the end of the year.
“It feels strange to know I’ll be married before Caleb, when he’s six years older.”
Madeleine dipped her head toward her to hear better and smiled. “Not just married, but a mother by the time we’re wed. I’ll be an aunt twice over. First Minette, and now yours. It’s all so exciting.” Madeleine’s face flushed. “I hope I won’t be too far behind you in the motherhood stakes.” They exchanged half-embarrassed laughs, and Josefa gave a satisfied sigh. It was wonderful to have a friend like Madeleine, close enough in age to understand her feelings.
A clinking of spoon against glass signaled that the host wanted their attention.
“Come on in, everyone, take your seats. Dinner is about to be served.” Antal Esterhazy stood at the head of the long table, the picture of an upstanding host, his braided jacket and strong form hinting at his military record in Europe before coming to America.
“Welcome to this dinner to welcome Santiago into the Valaquez family — long overdue, but now more than ever something that deserves to be honored. The key players in his life have all graduated to eternity, so are saved from public embarrassment. It’s time to acknowledge his place.”
He raised his eyes to the French doors that led from the buttermilk-walled dining room out onto the tiled patio. Some of the men had gathered out there, indulging in pre-dinner brandies and cigars, and as they crowded in to take their seats, they brought
with them the wet-wool smell of tobacco and the deep ringing bass of their voices.
Josefa cast an anticipatory glance up, watching for Leo. He’d been in a bad mood ever since the discussion yesterday of their marital settlement, even though he’d pretty much got his own way. She’d still not dared challenge him about his spiteful distortion of Santiago’s personal information. Her insides tensed at his approach.
He slid into the seat beside her and used his index finger to rim the empty glass in front of him with a dissatisfied air. “Bloody Santiago. I hope this isn’t going to go on all night. I suppose they’re going through this charade to give him some credibility because he’s working for Antal now.” He glowered. “Where’s the wine?”
“Coming up.” Antal called down the table and gestured to the black-jacketed maître d’ to fill the glasses that needed it. “Everyone right? Good. So, I propose a toast. To Santiago Valaquez Mackinnon. A returned son restored to his family.”
Josefa peered down the table to where Santiago sat at Francine’s right hand. His long brown hair was drawn back in its usual unassuming ponytail, trailing down the back of his strong neck. His mouth was half open in an embarrassed, surprised smile. But that was about as much of the old Santiago she could recognize.
Francine must have taken him in hand because he wore a snappy white shirt and smart bow tie under a beautifully cut black jacket with satin lapels. Even at a distance it was clear it was fashioned from the best superfine felted wool. Normal smart evening wear for men of Antal’s class on an occasion like this, but Josefa would make a confident bet it was the first time Santiago had worn anything like it.
Francine turned to Santiago with a little elbow nudge. His chiseled, tanned face dissolved into a confident smile and when he rose, the tailored cut of his jacket displayed his powerful shoulders. He didn’t spend his days behind a desk, that was plain to see.
“Friends and family. I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Francine has always been like a sister to me, and I can’t adequately express my gratitude to her and Aunt Benecio for all they’ve done. Thank you, Francine and Antal for this dinner, and for my new work. But let’s move on from me and honor the next generation. Please raise your glasses to toast young Charles Esterhazy, the first of the next wave.”
A ripple of approval flowed; a few people clapped before toasting the Esterhazy heir. Josefa heard the elderly lady next to Benecio murmur, “My word, he’s a catch. Anyone got their hooks in yet?”
Benecio smiled mysteriously.
Josefa’s chest pinched so sharply her arm jerked to her waist. Her eyes darted to the top of the table. A vivacious blonde with pretty fizzy curls and deep blue eyes was laughing at something Santiago had said, gazing at him as though he was the only man in the room. He rested his hand lightly on her wrist and half-smiled as he spoke. The pinching intensified to a cramp.
Who is that woman?
She hadn’t voiced that, had she? She didn’t need to. Madeleine dipped her head toward her and half-whispered, “Her name is Charlotte Schenk. Father’s a German banker. Very rich. Only daughter.”
Josefa’s eyes widened. “How do you know that?”
“We were introduced when we arrived.” Madeleine’s whisper softened even further. “I’m told Daddy is a very important client in Leo’s law firm.”
Josefa’s eyes flicked instinctively toward Leo, but he was turned away, paying attention to someone on his left.
Madeleine regarded Josefa steadily. “You don’t mind, do you?”
“No, of course not. Why should I?” Leo was twirling a spoon between thumb and forefinger, ready to start on the hot seafood chowder that had just been served.
“That looks very appetizing,” Josefa said.
He scowled. “As far as I’m concerned, the sooner we can get out of here, the better.”
A devilish sense of challenge rose up deep from within. “You don’t want to stay to say hello to Miss Schenk?”
His eyebrows shot to his hairline. “Who told you about her?”
“Told me what about her?”
Josefa realized with a jolt she’d stepped into deep water, much deeper than she’d anticipated.
Leo’s eyes flicked down the table. It was plain he was already well aware of where Miss Charlotte Schenk was sitting. And who she was sitting next to.
“They make a handsome couple, don’t they? Your cousin and Miss Schenk?”
An angry growl issued from deep in his throat. “Alfred Schenk wouldn’t entertain the idea of his sweet daughter marrying a bastardo. No matter how much the family might like to try and whiten his name.”
21
Her dress now fitted even more snugly than it had a couple of hours before, and the little toe on her right foot pinched at being jammed back into her shoes. Nevertheless, as Josefa sat next to Leo’s mother on a capacious couch, she felt an all-encompassing sense of wellbeing — as though her shoulders were draped in gossamer-weight cashmere.
She had a peculiar sensation of never wanting this feeling of love and acceptance to end. Benecio’s grace was magnetic, and she was overwhelmed with appreciation for the woman who would be her mother-in-law. She almost made up for Leo’s prickly personality, which must have come from his father. She pressed her lips together in a tight line to stop herself from saying a word.
The two women were seated in the small but beautifully furnished sitting room in Benecio’s home on the Orleans Hill estate, just a short stroll from the main house. As a devoted daughter, Francine had ensured her mother wanted for nothing.
The meal had been lavish but not ostentatious. The seafood chowder was followed by a range of dishes placed in the center of the table for guests to serve themselves — everything from goulash to veal pie, braised oxtail to shrimp in saffron cream. All accompanied by wines from the estate. By the time Josefa had finished her dessert — a choice between apple strudel, rum balls, and vol-au-vents with berries — her eyelids were drooping and she was tempted to find a comfortable corner to doze in, but Benecio had other plans.
As the family party broke up into genial smaller groups — the men dispersed for port and cigars, the ladies to stroll the gardens or chat in the drawing room over coffee — Benecio appeared at Josefa’s side.
“You go off and enjoy a port,” she said to a disgruntled Leo. “I want to have a nice little chat with my soon-to-be daughter-in-law.”
She took Josefa’s arm and led her down the pebble strewn path to her house. “We haven’t had any chance to talk, have we, dear? And I’d very much like to know you better.”
The hacienda was a smaller, pared-down version of the Orleans homestead, with arched windows down one long wall giving wide pastoral views over the vineyard. Two capacious sofas sat either side of a chunky low oak table that wouldn’t have been out of place in an English castle. On it were displayed a bowl of bright yellow sunflowers and an engraved silver tray on which sat a medley of wine glasses, each one different, all of them elegant and antique.
“Make yourself at home, Josefa. Slip off your shoes if you wish. I believe in comfort ahead of convention.” Benecio flashed her a sympathetic smile. “They’ll bring us coffee from the big house in a few minutes. I’m very spoiled.”
She sank gracefully into an armchair to Josefa’s left. “Leo seemed a bit out of sorts.” Her eyes raked Josefa’s face, leaving the obvious question hanging. After a long silence she added: “I know what he’s like. I hope he isn’t being difficult.”
“He does seem to be in a bit of a mood,” Josefa acknowledged reluctantly. “I’m not sure why, because he and Caleb have pretty well concluded the negotiations. Father Giovanni is to read the first banns this Sunday.”
Benecio gestured to the server who’d arrived with the coffee. “Here will be fine.” She waited while the coffee was delivered, and the attendant bowed and left.
“I’m afraid he’s always a bit out of sorts when Santiago’s star is rising. It’s always been the same, since they were little bo
ys. He resents any success Santiago has, so I suppose today is not easy for him.”
Josefa wasn’t sure if it was the rich food she’d just consumed or her fatigue, but she became aware of a nasty crampy pain digging into her ribs. Maybe this was the explanation for his malicious lies. She took a sip of the coffee Benecio poured in the hope it would clear her fuzzy head.
“Really? I don’t understand. I mean, forgive me, but doesn’t Leo have all the advantages?”
Benecio’s eyes sharpened. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you, dear? But sometimes appearances can be deceiving.”
She sighed. “I partly blame myself. Santiago was so precious to me after Lucia died. He barely left my side for the first three years of his life. Those years formed deep bonds that are with us right till this day. Whereas Leo was a very different kind of boy, and his father was involved with raising him from the day he was born, always fretting about me not spoiling his son.” She shrugged. “As you’ll discover, it’s not easy being a mother, my dear. But if I could give you one piece of advice, it would be to never be frightened of loving your children too much. Just try not to confuse love with indulgence. I suspect Leo got too much indulgence, and not enough real love, despite my best efforts.”
“It never occurred to me, Benecio.” Flickering light from the fire gave the older woman’s kindly face a warm glow. “It is all right if I call you that?”
Benecio darted her a happy smile. “Of course.”
“Tell me more about Leo’s upbringing. It might help me to understand him better.”
For the next thirty minutes or so Benecio outlined the unusual circumstances surrounding the birth of two boys, delivered of two sisters within a couple of years of each other. Santiago, born to Lucia, who died in the act of giving him life. Rory, Dominga’s revenge, who’d arrived a year or so later.
“Dominga had to have her man, even if it meant her sister’s disgrace. And then she had to have a son to match Lucia’s, even though by then our poor darling younger sister was dead. It wasn’t enough to have outlived her. All her life she was terrified Dougal would acknowledge Santiago as his natural son. He would have been quite within his rights legally to leave Santiago a fifth of his estate, even if he didn’t legitimize his birth, but he couldn’t risk Dominga’s wrath. I’m not sure she ever got over his betrayal.”
Hope Redeemed--A Spanish Novella Page 6