Benecio fingered a cross that hung around her neck as she spoke, her voice gradually becoming softer, slower, almost as if she was reluctant to return to such a tender topic.
“Dominga was over the moon when she got pregnant, because it didn’t happen instantly. She had to wait for it. And when it turned out to be a boy . . . Well, she didn’t bother to hide her triumph.” Benecio shifted in her chair, as if aware she was broaching a subject that resurrected painful ghosts.
“She still seemed to feel she had something to prove, even though Luisa was dead. But she’d laid her claim to Dougal, she’d insisted he was hers, and she wanted to give him a son. She couldn’t stand the thought that Dougal might finally recognize Santiago. That would be her ultimate shame . . . And Rory was her answer to that.”
She gave Josefa’s hand a motherly pat. “So three sisters had three boys — Santiago, Rory and Leo — all within a few years, and oh, how differently their lives turned out.”
“That’s what I really wanted to talk to you about, my dear. I saw what happened to Santiago when I married Gerald. That little boy was doing just fine without any daddy at all. He was a sunny-natured, open hearted little fellow. But after Gerald joined us, things changed; Santiago changed. He got very quiet. He didn’t smile as much. He could be in a room and you wouldn’t know he was there — he withdrew into himself. Gerald made it very clear that Santiago wasn’t his son. And Leo never seemed to get over the fact that I’d been Santiago’s ‘mother’ before he came along. It broke my heart to see it, but I was powerless to do anything about it.”
Benecio got up and walked to the window, as if the raking up of past heartaches had made her restless. She stood gazing out at the tranquil scene before her; the neat rows of vines, ghostly shadows in the pale lilac twilight. She slowly turned back, her hands clasped in front of her.
“I’m mentioning all this, my dear, because I don’t want to see the same mistakes occur in the next generation. Thankfully, Santiago is now finding a place where he can grow into the man he is destined to be, but he shouldn’t have had to wait this long to do it. I don’t want to see the same thing happen to your child, whether it’s a boy or a girl. I hope I cause no offense when I say that the sins of the parents should not be visited on their children. Wouldn’t you agree?”
It was all Josefa could do to nod. The direction the conversation had taken left her speechless.
“It’s all so delicate . . . But I wondered if you’ve been able to talk to Leo about it?”
Josefa’s discomfort grew. It had not occurred to her. None of it. The circumstances of Santiago’s birth . . . Well, to her he was just reliable Santiago, her brother’s right-hand man, the one she could always call on when she needed help. As for Leo, and his relationship to her future child . . . She’d been too busy trying to work out what he’d be like as a husband. She had hardly given a thought to his suitability as a father.
“Well, no. Sorry, you’ve caught me off guard. To be honest, I was still trying to work out how we’d work as a couple.”
“And what have you decided?”
Josefa was overwhelmed with a picture of Santiago as he sat by her side at their big Easter Sunday lunch a month or so back, still wolfing down the first-course chicken when everyone else had moved on to dessert. Of Santiago in the saddle, riding like the wind to head off a drift of bulls before they broke out. Images of his tanned, intent face mingled with the smell of the open range, of earthy-green cattle odor and salty winds. She shook her head to banish his presence. In everything he did, Santiago was a man of enormous capacity, but he never felt the need to push himself into the limelight.
“What have I decided? Well, I suppose, that a woman in my situation should be very grateful to be wooed by a man like Leo.”
She adjusted her position on the couch so she was sitting at right-angles to Benecio, suddenly uncomfortable with how much of herself she was revealing. She was overcome with a sudden shyness.
“He has been difficult sometimes, and I don’t exactly get the feeling I’m his one and only — if there is such a thing. But I’ve decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. To stand by the vows I am about to make, come hell or high water.”
The words had come rushing out, as she was overtaken by an irresistible urge to be honest to herself and this woman who she sensed would stand by her till death.
And with the words came a fresh strength, a renewed clarity, warring with an underlying sense of heaviness she did her best to ignore. Emboldened by her frankness, she lifted her eyes to Benecio’s.
Leo’s mother’s face was careworn but lit by a bright smile, a strangely fond curve to her lips. “Oh, my dear. You remind me so much of myself at your age.”
And then Josefa saw that her cheeks were wet with tears. They coursed down her deeply lined face and left a shimmering trace on her black taffeta gown.
“Benecio! Are you all right? What’s wrong?”
Benecio shook her head, too choked for words. She sat for a few minutes, her hands tightly laced together. Then she took a heaving breath. “What’s wrong? Oh, my dear, where do I begin. I just hope it takes you many years to find out.”
Josefa opened her mouth to speak, but before she could get a word out the attendant who had brought the coffee bustled in. “Mrs. Carver, sorry to interrupt, but you’re wanted over at the big house.”
Benecio raised her eyes in surprise. “What’s happened, Christoff? Is something wrong?”
“No, madam, I don’t believe so. But there’s an unexpected visitor, and Mrs. Esterhazy says he wants to see you.”
Benecio hesitated but then wearily began to rise, mopping her eyes delicately before she left the room. “Josefa, come with me. I’ve no idea who this is, but I’m sure they won’t mind you accompanying me. I’m enjoying your company too much to let you go.”
She gave an apologetic grin and took Josefa’s proffered arm. “Come on girl, let’s see what this is all about.”
22
Mr. Alfred Schenk had the same brilliant blue eyes as his daughter Charlotte, but there the resemblance ended. A white walrus mustache drooped down healthy ruddy cheeks either side of his firm mouth. The bright, intelligent eyes were overhung by an equally luxuriant crop of white hair that curled around his ears.
He stood in the foyer of Francine’s home, leaning on a silver cane, radiating physical and intellectual power, a short chunky man in an expensive gray suit decorated with a silver watch chain.
Hovering at Benecio’s side, Josefa knew even before he spoke that she was in the presence of a man used to unquestionably directing his world, rather than being directed by it.
Francine stood at his side, running her hands through her hair with a distracted air as if she hadn’t quite caught up with the import of the visitor’s arrival. “Mother, Mr. Schenk says he’s here to see you.” She screwed up her eyes, as if trying to clear confusion. “He says it’s about your son.”
Benecio stepped forward on what Josefa could only describe as a gust of determined confidence which quenched Francine’s bemusement.
“Mr. Schenk, lovely to see you again. We have so enjoyed having Charlotte with us today. Do come and sit down. Francine, shall we use the small sitting room?” She gestured to the room off the hallway where Josefa had seen Francine feeding baby Charlie on the day of the christening.
“Oh yes, Mother. That would be ideal.” She ushered the small group forward, Benecio advancing with Alfred Schenk, Josefa and Francine falling in behind.
“Now, Mr. Schenk. Do enlighten us. My son, you say? I do hope it’s nothing serious.”
Alfred Schenk had rested his cane on the arm of the chair as he sat down, and now he curled his hands around his middle, as if uncharacteristically unsure of how to begin.
“It is a rather delicate matter, Mrs. Carver. But you will understand that any young man who shows an interest in my daughter — well, I make it my business to check him out. And I’m disturbed to find the young man who’s bee
n paying Charlotte attention recently is — how shall I say it? — is compromised. Seriously compromised. I wish to request that he withdraw his attentions forthwith.”
Schenk’s blue eyes glittered. His voice had taken on a waspish tone. “I won’t have my daughter’s affections put in jeopardy by . . . by, well, I am sorry to say it, but by a gold-seeker.”
Josefa’s lungs emptied of air, and it took all her self-control to suppress a gasp. The behavior Schenk described was so uncharacteristic of Santiago.
“Oh my goodness.” Benecio’s complexion paled. “Of course we regret anyone in the family causing you concern.”
She inclined her head to Francine. “Francine, could you ask Christoff to seek out Santiago and ask him to join us?”
Within minutes Santiago appeared, shoulders erect, eyes clear and searching. “You wanted to see me, Aunt Benecio?”
“Yes. I want to introduce Charlotte’s father, Mr. Alfred Schenk. Mr. Schenk, Santiago Valaquez.”
Schenk’s brow furrowed. “There’s been some mistake.”
Santiago had stepped closer to shake hands with the older man without requiring him to rise. Schenk grasped his hand warmly. “Glad to meet you, Mr. Valaquez. I’ve heard a bit about you. Glad to hear Antal’s taken you on. From what I understand you’re an upstanding fellow, a hard worker, with a good future.”
He locked his gaze on Benecio, whose face was flushing bright pink.
“No, it’s not Mr. Valaquez who concerns me. It’s the other one, Leo. Leo Carver. He’s a bankrupt who’s been unscrupulously charming my daughter, and it’s got to stop.”
23
The ladies’ sitting room was beginning to feel over-crowded. Extra chairs had been brought in while the ever-reliable Christoff was dispatched to find Leo, and after a small delay had returned not just with Leo, but with Charlotte also in tow. It appeared they had been “chatting” in the conservatory. Charlotte’s blonde curls appeared more tousled than they had a lunch, and her complexion was distinctly pinker than earlier.
Leo, however, was his confident, urbane self, the rising star about to become the youngest partner in San Francisco. He pumped Alfred Schenk’s hand, apparently unaware of what awaited him.
“Mr. Schenk! How can I be of assistance? I trust the firm is meeting its obligations to you? If not, just say, and I’ll ensure it does.” Leo glanced around the room, as if expecting congratulations for hobnobbing with King Croesus.
Benecio fixed Leo with an electric gaze; Santiago was staring out the window, maybe wanting to avoid Leo’s attention. Most of the others in the room, including Charlotte, were staring at Leo with confused expressions.
Josefa was a mess of contradictory emotion: fury at her intended’s duplicity, and a cringing anticipation for what was coming next. Leo was going to be humiliated — and, by association, she would be too.
All of her and Caleb’s heart-searching, all the arguing, the negotiating, all was wasted effort, because Leo was a conman. She had fire in her veins as she wrestled with the extent of his lies. He’d faked an attraction to her just to get hold of her money.
She realized Alfred Schenk was talking.
“It’s not the firm I’m concerned about Carver. I’m afraid it’s you.”
“Me?” Leo’s eyes darted around the room, apparently finding nowhere to alight. He returned then Schenk, challenge in his voice. “What am I supposed to have I done?”
“Well, I suppose I could start with making false representations. You’re presenting yourself around town as a fine, upstanding young man when you’re about to tip into financial ruin. You’ve accumulated bad debts all over town and you owe one of our lending funds so much that if you default you could take the whole bank down with you.”
The stunned silence was broken nervous shuffles. Josefa was numb. From the sudden quiet, she guessed the rest of the family were in shock. Except for Santiago. He was still gazing out the window. It wasn’t clear if he was even listening. But then most of this information was probably of no surprise to him.
Schenk glared at Leo. “There’s more, but is that enough to start with? And while you’ve been digging yourself into this hole, you’ve been promising my daughter the earth.”
Leo darted a guilty look at Josefa and began to make a feeble protest.
Schenk raised his hand. “No. Don’t bother. Charlotte’s been telling her mother all about it.” He shot his daughter a fond smile. “Luckily for us, she’s not a dissembler.” He gestured to Charlotte to come and sit with him, and she perched on the arm of his chair, her arm around her father’s neck.
“We’ve nipped this in the bud, Carver, before you did too much damage. Charlotte’s reputation is intact. And that is how it will remain. I’m sorry you have got yourself into this nasty mess, but it won’t be Schenk funds that bail you out of it.”
He slipped forward on his chair, placed his left hand on his cane, and pushed himself upright, slipping his right hand around Charlotte’s waist as he stood. “My apologies for interrupting your family gathering, Mrs. Carver. We’ll leave you to get on with it.”
Charlotte shot Francine a droll look. “See you soon, Francine.”
Francine returned the half-whispered farewell with a wry grin. “Looking forward to it!”
24
“Charlotte was far from heart-broken. That’s just about the only good thing about it. I don’t think she was too upset.”
Josefa searched Madeleine’s face for some sort of affirmation. Her mind was racing, searching for answers, and Madeleine was the best person she knew on whom to test out her thinking. Her stomach was still fluttering from what just taken place — and the anxious flickering had nothing to do with her baby. Her fiancé, so-called, had just been unmasked as the gold-digger he was, in front of everyone.
Father Giovanni was supposed to be reading the banns this Sunday. Did “chasing after other women” count as due cause for why a marriage should not proceed?
She came back from her ramblings with a jolt as Madeleine spoke. “You’re quite right, Josefa. That young woman struck me as having a few brains, like her father. I don’t think she was in the least heart-broken.”
She leaned in to smell some of the lilac that arched over the Orleans garden path. They’d embarked on a quiet private stroll around the estate, stretching their legs and taking in some fresh air in preparation for the long drive home, as well as snatching a bit of private time.
“More than can be said for me,” said Josefa with a self-conscious grin. “Well, maybe not heart-broken. Publicly humiliated, more like it. What was I thinking?”
Madeleine draped her arm consolingly around Josefa’s shoulders. “Don’t blame yourself. Leo was pretty irresistible. Good-looking, a rising star of his profession, romantic when he wanted to be . . . I can understand the attraction.”
“Mmm. And very able to spot a desperate woman. The thing I found most embarrassing was that I sat in that room, his fiancée, and no one acknowledged I was there. The one who’d maybe been most wronged, when you think about it. Worse still, I don’t know whether to be offended or relieved.”
She stopped in her tracks and gave a disbelieving laugh. “Isn’t that crazy?”
Madeleine laughed with her, and then got serious again. “Not crazy, dear Josefa. You had to at least test out the possibility of that marriage, I can see that. But you’ve had a lucky escape, n’est-ce pas? Where are things with Leo right now?”
“Nowhere. I haven’t seen him since that mess in the sitting room. I don’t even know where he’s gone.”
“And how do you feel about that?”
Josefa shrugged. “Hard to say. I’m pretty confused.”
“But you won’t be taking him back? Am I right in that?”
“Oh, you are so right. Better to remain single than feel I was his bail-out in a very expensive card game.”
She sank down on a concrete bench under a tree and patted the space beside her. “Benecio had some very interesting things to s
ay before everything blew up. I should have taken it as a warning.”
“What kind of warning?”
“Oh, you know. About refusing to acknowledge things that are staring you in the face because you want to believe something else so badly.” She sighed. “She told me a lot about their childhood. Leo’s and Santiago’s. I guess it explained a lot.”
She sensed Madeleine’s interest sharpen.
“So tell me. What did it explain?”
“Well, about why they are like they are. It’s pretty obvious Leo hates Santiago. And I’d guess the feeling is mutual, although Santiago isn’t as obvious about it.”
“You’d think Santiago had nothing to rival Leo’s position, so what’s the problem?”
“Apparently there’s a life-long jealousy there because Santiago was Benecio’s darling baby boy until she married and had Leo. You’d think Santiago would be jealous of Leo, but apparently it was the other way around. Leo has always felt he’s second-best to Santiago in his mother’s affection. So even though he’s had everything — as well as the full-on-father — he still resents Santiago’s very existence.”
“All very interesting, but how does it matter now?”
“Benecio was making the point that in an ideal world, whoever I marry should be willing to accept this baby of mine as his own. Her husband could never do that for Santiago, and that was a big part of the problem.”
“Oh. And do you reckon Leo would accept your child?”
“When I think about it? No. Especially when I recall how he treats Santiago.”
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