At the Villa Massina Read online

  However, the next moment the portrait was forgotten, for Inez came through another door, looking very Spanish and very modern in a long-sleeved black silk suit which had a medallion of scarlet embroidery on one shoulder.

  She gave the gracious inclination of her head and said, “Bienvenida. I have not kept you waiting?”

  “Not at all,” said Juliet. “May I present Mr. Lyle Whitman? Senora de Vedro.”

  Lyle bowed in the accepted fashion and said pleasantly, “I am honoured to make your acquaintance, senora. It is something I have longed for from the moment I first saw you, some time ago.”

  Anywhere else, such a statement might sound flowery; in Spain it was accepted as normal. Inez waved to three chairs which had been conveniently placed, sat down her-self and leaned forward, to tinkle a small silver bell. Then she leaned back, displaying, perhaps consciously, the graceful line of her throat, the arched nostrils and the elegant length of nose and forehead. She was very much of the nobleza.

  They had tea, poured from a dainty silver teapot into paper-thin cups of exquisite design, and they ate tiny nutty cakes and fruit titbits. And they talked. At least, Inez and Lyle talked—about books and concerts in Madrid, about the beauty of Avila in the snow, about the bullfight, and again about books.

  When tea was over and Juliet said she thought she must go, Inez stood up quite readily.

  “It has been enjoyable, has it not? We three must meet again. Mr. Whitman, are you interested in the Castillo?”

  “Of course, senora. I was just wondering if I dare ask permission to wander round outside one morning. I believe you have some very good rustic statuary.”

  Inez gestured graciously. “Not only statuary. Inside the pavilion we have the Moorish bath which was the original reason my ancestors built here. It is very beautiful, though not quite so large as the one in my brother’s Castillo at Cadiz. Then there are grottoes and wall fountains all over the gardens, and a maze planted two hundred and fifty years ago. If it were not that Ramiro himself has written the family history up to date, I would like nothing better than to ask you to do it for us. But do come, Mr. Whitman; if I am not here you will find my servants very willing to help you.”

  But Juliet had the conviction that the senora would be there. The thought depressed her, so that when she left the Castillo with Lyle she had little to say. But he was talkative.

  “Makes you think, doesn’t it?” he commented companionably. “There she is, in the middle of magnificence, rich enough to buy the most costly article anyone could possibly hanker for, yet I’ll wager she was happier today doing something which cost nothing at all than she has been for months. You know, when a very young woman loses her husband the need to be loved doesn’t die—it merely goes dormant for a while.”

  “Is that the sort of thing you write about?”

  “You sound acid, young Juliet. No, I think much more clearly than I write, unfortunately, or I might be better off. Still, things have looked up lately. I may even pension this old bus and get a new one.”

  “On royalties?”

  “Lord, no. The private income—it fluctuates. Did I thank you for the introduction to the Castillo?”

  “No, and don’t bother. I only hope I’m not going to be sorry it ever happened.”

  He drove for a minute in silence. Then, carelessly, “Shall I get the cat’s eye ruby mounted into a dress ring for you?”

  Heat swept through Juliet and painted her cheeks scarlet. “Good heavens, I ... I’d forgotten it. I didn’t find it myself. The ... Conde de Vallos picked it up from under the table.”

  “The Conde!” He looked perturbed, took time off to think it over, and then asked non-committally, “Where is it now?”

  “I’m afraid he still has it. I know you don’t show the gems around, but once he’d seen it there was little I could do. He questioned me.”

  “Oh, he did. I hope you didn’t let me down, Juliet!”

  “No.” He needn’t be quite so sharp about it. After all, she hadn’t asked to see the collection he guarded so jealously.

  “I told the Conde someone had come to the villa and had shown me some gems, that it must have fallen. He was annoyed, said I shouldn’t have admitted a stranger and that I must have nothing more to do with you. He took the stone and told me to tell you he’d give it back to you personally. You see, I ... I wouldn’t tell him who you were.”

  He slanted a veiled glance at her. “Thanks for that, anyway. You’ll have to get it back for me, Juliet. Since meeting his sister I’ve decided I don’t want to meet him.”

  “He won’t give the stone to me—only you.”

  “You must get it,” he said flatly, “as soon as you possibly can. Thank heaven you had the sense to withhold my name. Are you sure this is as near to the villa as you want to go?”

  “I did it for Norma, not for you.” She hesitated. “Is it any use asking you to keep away from Senora de Vedro?”

  “Let’s forget her for the present. Get back the cat’s eye, there’s a good girl. It’s important.”

  “Well, I...”

  “I mean it, Juliet,” he said. “Get it back.”

  The difficulties of the situation were becoming too much for Juliet. “I didn’t drop the beastly thing on the floor,” she said crossly. “I feel I’ve done enough for you.”

  His manner changed. “Now I’ve put your back up, and I certainly didn’t mean to. I’d never have got into the Castillo and made the acquaintance of Inez de Vedro without a perfect lady to effect the introduction. I think I’m half in love with the woman—have been ever since I first saw her. That’s one of the reasons I want the stone back. You wouldn’t understand, Juliet—too innocent, I guess. But to me it’s vital. You must try.”

  “It would be hopeless. The Conde wouldn’t give it to me.”

  “You’re a woman, Juliet—use a few tricks. I just want the stone, without his knowing my name. Tackle him when he returns from Cadiz and get it over.” He put out a hand as she moved. “Promise?”

  “I promise to try, that’s all.”

  Juliet left him and walked quickly to the villa, wishing rather vehemently that she could thoroughly detest the man. She went up the path and into the hall, heard the two treble voices and Luisa’s harsh, kindly tones. She took off her hat and placed it on the long carved table near the wall, and noticed that a couple of letters had appeared on the bronze tray; one from her aunt and the other from Norma.

  She fingered them, slipped a finger under the flap of Norma’s thick envelope and ripped it open. She read, felt a hard ridge come into her throat, and read again.

  Ruy Colmeiro had had a recurrence of trouble with his wrist and he had been advised to have an operation. It was not urgent, and he had thought of leaving it till he reached Spain, so that it might be attended to in Cadiz while Norma lived with the children at the villa.

  “But I am naturally against that,” wrote Norma, “and have decided that the wrist shall be seen to in England. This means that we shall both have to remain here till after Easter, but I think it is wise. Anyway, darling, I have had such a glowing report about Rina’s improvement from Inez de Vedro, that I’m not a scrap worried about leaving you there in charge of the children. Father says he will be only too pleased to spare you from the shop while we need you, so everything seems to be under control. For my part, I’m relieved that I don’t have to be harassed with packing and travelling details just now; there’s a run of social engagements, most of them exciting and not to be missed! Have some fun, if you can, and kiss the bairns for me...”

  Juliet pushed the letter into her bag, dropped the bag beside her hat. She made herself move, to escape the intensity of feeling; queer feeling which defied analysis.

  Behind her, outdoors, the sun had left a pool of pale golden light. Juliet saw it in the high mirror on the wall, but she did not know that a shy radiance was reflected back into her eyes, so that the fear and uncertainty in her expression was illumined by a small glow of relief
.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  A CAR pulled up on the path and its door slammed, gaily. Juliet took three more quick stitches and broke the cotton, folded the pair of shorts and looked up towards the door. But no one came in. Instead, she heard tones which played sharply and exquisitely over her nerves.

  “So I find you here in the porch, babies! And how are you after so many days?”

  “All right, thank you,” said Tony, “but we’re not babies.”

  “No? But you sleep here like babies in the long chairs. And how is the little Rina?”

  “Very well, thank you, Don Ramiro,” came sedately from the little girl. “We haven’t seen you for ages.”

  “Four long days,” he concurred. “I was kept in Cadiz on business. You must tell me what has happened since I left.”

  “Well,” said Rina considering, “there hasn’t been much. Yesterday Juliet and I bathed while Tony went fishing with Juan—he’s Luisa’s son, you know.”

  “Yes, I know him—he is a fine boatman and handsome.”

  “And he wears earrings. The day before that we went to a birthday party—and do you know, Don Ramiro, all the girls wore white frocks with sashes and the boys wore sailor suits.”

  “Ah, the latest fashion,” murmured Ramiro understandingly. “It was also the latest fashion when I was a little boy. Tia Inez tells me you have not been to see her.”

  “No, we haven’t,” replied Rina candidly. “I told Juliet that we go to the Castillo often when Mummy’s here, and she said we must wait till Mummy comes, then. I don’t think Juliet likes the Castillo as much as we do.”

  “I think,” said Tony pompously, not to be outdone, “that she doesn’t like Spain.”

  “But you are quite wrong,” Ramiro said, with an inflection that Juliet could not quite place. “Your Juliet is more of a stranger than you are, that is all. She does not wish to deprive you of anything.”

  “Oh, we know that,” said Rina quickly. “Juliet’s great fun.”

  “Hush,” said Ramiro sternly. “One does not say such things! The parents are always first and best—in everything.”

  “But they’re not,” contributed Tony, practically. “I do think I’ve got the best Daddy, though.”

  Ramiro apparently decided to leave it there. “And what are you doing now—waiting for lunch?”

  “Yes, we’ve been swimming again—Juliet gave me a lesson,” said Rina. “She says I’m going to be a good swimmer.”

  “Not as good as me,” boasted Tony. “I shall be a man, and men always do everything better than girls.”

  Ramiro laughed. “I should not be too sure about that, nino. Where is Juliet now?”

  “Indoors, mending Tony’s shorts. He slipped down the dunes and caught them on a twig.”

  “It is very sad, that. You will excuse me, senorita? I will find this mender of trousers!”

  Rina giggled at being called senorita, and Tony guffawed at something else, and then Ramiro came into the hall and stood in the sitting-room doorway. Whatever of gaiety there had been in his expression while he talked to the children was gone now, but he did have a cool smile on his lips.

  “Ah, Miss Darrell. No, do not get up. I will sit, if I may.”

  “Please do.” She herself was placed with her back to the window, her hair cloudy about her face, which was in shadow. “Did you want to see me about something?”

  “I was concerned because my sister told me she had not seen you for several days. It seems she expected you.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “There was a letter yesterday from your cousin with the news that she will not be coming here for some weeks. It is a great pity.”

  Juliet looked down at the needle she still held. “Yes, it is. I’m not really a good substitute for the children’s parents.”

  “I did not mean that; if they must have a substitute you are very much the best choice. It keeps you tied, that is all. Had Ruy and his wife decided to arrive when we expected them, you could have been free to make some excursions in the district.”

  She shook her head. “I was going home.”

  His smile had sharpened slightly. “We would have persuaded you to stay for a while, I think. However, there is no doubt about it now. Inez wishes me to tell you that she will be happy to have the children at the Castillo whenever you feel the need for relaxation. I suggest you should feel that need on Saturday, when I am taking a party into the country.”

  “It’s very kind of you, senor,” she answered with reserve.

  A hint of satire in his voice, he said, “And you accept with joy. Bueno, let us talk of something else. You know that there is motor racing next week along the coast of the Bahia de Manca?”

  “Yes. Old Pablo, the gardener here, was telling me about it.”

  “Did you also know that Mario Perez has entered a new racing car?”

  She looked at him swiftly. “But I thought all the drivers were professionals! Isn’t it very dangerous for anyone who’s inexperienced?”

  A shrug. “Mario has driven in such races before, but never in this one, which is extremely trying. However, we shall see.”

  “But can’t you dissuade him?” she asked, disturbed. “He may have raced before, but I don’t believe he’s the true type for it. Can’t his parents stop him?”

  “Miss Darrell,” he said with deliberation, “when a man finds it necessary to prove his manhood in some demonstrative fashion it is both unwise and unkind to stop him.” He paused. “It is a strange thing about Mario. Quite suddenly he is tremendously alive and must taste everything. You are an astounding young woman.”

  “It hasn’t anything to do with me, as a person,” she retorted. “Perhaps to someone shy I seemed more understanding than the sloe-eyed senoritas who expect him to be an expert...” she stopped suddenly.

  “What were you about to say?” he asked softly, with a penetrating stare. “An expert lover?”

  “Yes, I was, as a matter of fact,” she returned casually. “Not that he made love to me. But he did realize that I knew about as much on the subject as he did, so he didn’t have to be on guard!”

  “You must have had many happy moments together!”

  “The strange part of it is that I hardly know him. He’s trying to prove things to himself, not to me.”

  “That is a wise conclusion,” said Ramiro. “It is exactly what he is doing. This motor racing is not for you, but for himself and for everyone who has known him all his life, for all those who have perhaps hinted that he is an exemplary young man but without much ... what is your word ... pep.” A smile, and an alien lift of the shoulders. “Now we have agreed upon that there is no need to discuss Mario further.”

  As it happened, there was no need to discuss anything just then. The children came in, and they were hardly in the room when Luisa appeared at the door. The servant saw the Conde, curtseyed in much confusion and was about to withdraw when Tony caught her hand.

  “Did you want me, Luisa?” asked Juliet.

  “It is nothing senorita. Nothing urgent.”

  “Well, is lunch ready?” demanded Tony. “I could eat a big fat dog.”

  “That is esqueroso ... nasty!” Luisa was forced to tell him severely. “You will have no such thing.”

  “I should give him the big fat dog for his lunch,” said Ramiro gravely. “It would certainly cure him of such tastes.”

  Tony laughed. “I really want a pork pasta and peas,” he said. “Will you stay to lunch with us, Don Ramiro?”

  Luisa went pale. “I have not prepared for the Senor Conde. There is only the cooked chicken and ham with salad. It is not fit...”

  “As if one did not know,” interrupted Ramiro with a charming smile, “that chicken and ham cooked by the good Luisa is the best in San Federigo!” He slanted a faintly mocking glance at Juliet. “If the senorita will permit, I shall be most happy to accept your invitation, Tonio.”

  Luisa loosed herself from the child, curtseyed again, fran
tically, and rushed back to the kitchen. Juliet sat still, while the children, too young and uninhibited to be awed scuffed out to wash their hands.

  “You are not very cordial, Miss Darrell,” said Ramiro evenly.

  “I’m sorry. I feel a little like Luisa—that I’d rather have had notice. For the children’s sake we eat plain food.”

  “But naturally. Do not concern yourself with it. I have no wish to embarrass you, and if you would rather I did not stay...”

  “I didn’t mean that,” she said hurriedly. “Please do, if you’d like to.” She hesitated. “Thank you for complimenting Luisa.”

  “It was no compliment,” he replied suavely. “Only the truth.”

  Luisa breathlessly announced that lunch was ready, and when they came into the dining-room Juliet was amazed at the changes the servant had managed in ten short minutes. The usual white damask cloth had been replaced by a pale blue linen one, embroidered in white, and the matching napkins were neatly arranged as a pyramid at each place. There were crystal tumblers and wine glasses, a small crystal vase of smilax and the best cutlery. Ramiro, of course, took it all for granted, but Juliet flashed Luisa a grateful smile, and all through the meal, which was unexpectedly garnished here and there with something quite unusual, she and the servant were anxious conspirators.

  Tony, to his credit, forbore to comment upon the changes, though he did take some interest in the bottle of wine. Ramiro’s mood could not have been better for such an occasion; he made dry remarks for the children’s benefit, slipped in just the right number of exclamations to keep Luisa ecstatic, and masterfully relieved Juliet of the task of carving the ham, and serving.

  It was odd. There were Juliet and the two children, a man to whom it was no trouble at all to please all of them; yet there was little intimacy. He remained the Conde de Vallos, kindly but aloof, good-humored while retaining that slight hardness.