Castles In Spain Part 5

Her voice had a soft, husky sound and he must have known that her protest was as reluctant as his relinquishing of her, but he slid his arms from around her, and instead held her arms tightly, looking down at her with those glittering black eyes. There was a tightness about his mouth again as he shook his head slowly.

'So!' he said, in a voice that was still hoa.r.s.e with emotion. 'You would make certain that I cannot punish Carlos for what he did, by putting me in the same position, eh? You are very clever, nina!'

Holly stared at him for a moment, unbelievingly. It seemed scarcely credible that he was blaming her for what had happened, and yet evidently he was. 'You - you're not saying that that was my fault too?' she said huskily, and he said nothing for a moment, then he sighed deeply and, so it seemed, sincerely.

'Go to bed, poca bruja,' he said softly, shaking his head. 'The combination of you and a warm moonlit night are too potent a wine for any man. Vayase, haga usted el favor! Go for your own sake as well as for mine!'

Holly hesitated for only a moment, then she turned and walked back up the hillside to the castle, dreamily unreal under the bright Spanish moon, its tall towers piercing the star-scattered sky. It was a temptation to turn and look back at him, for she felt so certain that he stood watching her go, but she resisted it because if she had looked back and seen him still there she knew she would have run back to him, and that would have made the situation irrevocable.

CHAPTER FIVE.

It was something of a surprise, after their last encounter, to find Marcos behaving as if nothing had happened, and Holly could not help feeling oddly let down, yet again. Encounters like that with Marcos invariably left her feeling disappointed, although she could not help being slightly ashamed of herself for it. It was almost as if Marcos treated such episodes as no more than moments of light relief in his normally well run life, and certainly not to be taken seriously.

Holly, however, found it much less easy to treat them so lightly, and staying under the same roof with Marcos had become a definite strain lately. Much as she tried to deny it to herself, she was afraid that she was already more than a little in love with him and she could never tell when she would be faced with another similar situation. Sooner or later it was bound to happen.

For a whole week now she had spent considerable time looking at the question from all sides and she had at last decided that her position at the castle was quite untenable and that it would be better for everyone if she left and spent the rest of her holiday somewhere else in Spain.

It was obvious that Aunt Nan would miss her, and so too would Don Jose, for he made no secret of the fact that he liked her very much and enjoyed having her there. She would miss them too, of course, and the type of life she had led for the past few weeks, but weighed against that there was Helena Mendez's att.i.tude towards her, and try as she would, Holly had to admit to disliking the Spanish girl intensely. Helena, she knew, would never change, and she doubted if she would herself.

There was a hope too, that away from the undeniably romantic atmosphere of the Castillo de la Valeroso she would be able to forget about Marcos, although at the moment the possibility seemed a remote one. He was not a man who would be easy to forget, and feeling as she did about him made it more difficult. Such a situation could not be allowed to develop any further and the sooner she left the castle and the proximity of Marcos, the better.

It was no surprise to learn that Helena was coming to dinner, yet again, but Holly faced the prospect bleakly, as always. She dreaded those meals with Helena's malicious and determinedly unfriendly presence at the table, and she knew, via her aunt, that such frequent visits to the castle were a new departure since the arrival of Holly.

As she always did on these occasions, Holly dressed with extra care, although she told herself that no one was likely to be any wiser of the fact, except herself. A mid-length dress of jade-coloured chiffon that clung softly and closely to her figure and swirled into fullness at the waist was the most flattering dress she owned, and she had chosen it with deliberation.

She brushed out her dark hair and let it fall softly about her shoulders, realizing that she looked not only younger like that, but also much more vulnerable. Perhaps unconsciously seeking an effect that was appealingly feminine, to contrast with Helena's sleek, dark sophistication. Satisfied at last, she gave a final smoothing touch to her dress and her hair, and turned to go.

A moment later in the carpeted pa.s.sageway outside, she closed her bedroom door, then, unable to resist doing it just once more, she spun round and round. Under the stern, dark gaze of Marcos's haughty ancestors, she whirled about, the full skirt of her dress flying out, then swirling softly about her slim legs.

Holly had noticed no one else about, but as she stopped, a little breathlessly, she heard the sound of hands clapping quietly behind her, and Marcos's voice spoke from the shadows of one of the arched alcoves. 'Bravo! Otra vez, senorita!'

'Marcos!' Holly spun round swiftly to face him, her cheeks colouring furiously at being caught in such a childish pleasure. What a fool he would think her for indulging in such naive pranks.

Marcos came out of the shadows to join her, tall and heart-stoppingly attractive in dinner dress, a black c.u.mmerbund hugging tightly about his lean waist. He stood with his feet slightly apart, as he was inclined to do, the black trousers fitting smoothly over his long, muscular legs and a frilled white shirt adding a slightly Victorian look.

He stood looking down at her for a moment, down the length of that hawklike nose, and there was just a glimmer of humour in his black eyes. 'Are you going to dance flamenco for me, nina?' he asked softly, and took one of her hands in both of his, raising it to his lips.

It was an unexpected and courtly gesture that set her pulses racing wildly, and she despaired of herself, yet again, for responding to him so readily. 'I didn't - I didn't expect anyone to see me,' Holly said, wishing she could control the disturbing desires that the touch of his strong fingers aroused in her.

'So much I could guess, pequena,' Marcos said softly. His black eyes swept over her slowly, disturbingly aware of every curving feature revealed by the low cut of the dress. 'You look very beautiful,' he said.

Holly kept her decision to leave firmly in her mind and wished she had waited just a minute more before leaving her room, then she could have avoided meeting him. Even a couple of minutes alone with Marcos in such circ.u.mstances, could persuade her to change her mind, no matter how senseless it would prove eventually.

She glanced down at her wrist watch, seeking escape, and managed to free her fingers at last. 'It's getting late,' she said. 'We should go, Marcos.'

He nodded agreement, a small half smile just touching his lips as he offered her his crooked arm. 'Senorita?'

After a second's hesitation Holly slipped her hand through his arm and almost gasped audibly a moment later when it was crushed tightly against the warmth of his body as he led her along to the stairs, a glance from those black eyes challenging her to protest about the familiarity of the gesture.

They walked side by side down that magnificent staircase, and as they went Holly's brain was spinning when she considered the kind of impression they would have given a stranger. There was a strange sense of intimacy about coming downstairs with him like that, arm in arm, and she briefly closed her eyes when she heard Helena Mendez's unmistakable voice in the hall, speaking to one of the servants.

It was much earlier than usual for Helena to arrive, and Holly mourned the mischance that had made her choose tonight of all nights to be early. There was no doubt that Helena had seen them, for she stepped back into full view and looked up at them as they came down the last few feet, her black eyes glittering when she saw their linked arms.

'Buenas noches, Marcos,' Helena said, and swept her gaze over Holly, leaving no doubt how she felt about such familiarity. 'Dandose el brazo, mi amor? Como amigable!'

Whatever the sharp words meant, they appeared to have little effect on Marcos, for he continued down the rest of the stairs with Holly's arm through his, the pressure he exerted foiling any attempt on her part to remove it. He bowed his black head briefly in a formally polite bow when he faced Helena, and smiled quite blandly at her angry face.

'Buenas noches, Helena,' he said, and Holly marvelled, not for the first time, at the very formal way he always spoke to the woman he was supposed to be going to marry. Perhaps Aunt Nan was right about Helena finding him a less than ardent lover, although from her own experience it was difficult to believe.

'Marcos-' Helena was trembling with anger, her eyes blazing, but Holly had no doubt who was the villain of the piece in her eyes.

Marcos, however, merely bowed again and extended his other arm, his black gaze challenging her to refuse the offer. 'Shall we go in, senoritas?' he asked softly.

After a moment's hesitation Helena slid a long hand through his arm, her fingers curling possessively, her long red nails looking uncomfortably like claws to Holly's uneasy gaze. Marcos walked with them, one either side of him, across the hall to the dining-hall where a manservant opened the huge double doors to admit them, still three abreast.

Holly noted surprise and a hint of dismay, too, in her aunt's face when they came in, but Don Jose seemed unaware of anything untoward as he sat already at the head of the table with his wife beside him, one gentle, rea.s.suring hand on his shoulder.

'Marcos,' Aunt Nan said with a faint smile. 'How gallant of you!'

'It is my pleasure, Dona Ana,' Marcos told her, and bowed each of his ladies in turn into their seats, then did the same service for his stepmother. 'I am humbled by the presence of so much beauty!' he said, catching his stepmother's eye and smiling slowly.

It was quite unlike Marcos to even profess humility, or to play the gallant quite so obviously, and it took Holly a moment or two to realize that he was showing off. It was an unexpectedly juvenile trait to find in a man of Marcos's calibre and for a moment it startled her, until he caught her eye. The expression in his eyes left her in no doubt that he was doing it purely for her benefit, probably to show her that he could indulge in childish behaviour too, and she felt the colour in her cheeks, praying that Aunt Nan would not notice and guess the reason.

The conversation, during dinner, almost inevitably came around to horses, and, while Holly admired the beautiful Arab thoroughbreds that Marcos and his father bred, she knew nothing about them. Consequently, as always happened, she was excluded from the conversation, for even her aunt knew enough, after ten years, to talk fairly easily on the subject.

Helena often came to the stables and rode with Marcos, so it was obvious that she must have known that Holly either did not ride or was not prepared to risk handling one of those mettlesome thoroughbreds. But the temptation to point out Holly's exclusion from such matters was bound to prove too much for Helena before long, and her sharp, dark eyes looked across the table at Holly suddenly, her wide, thin-lipped mouth formed into a brief smile.

"You do not know anything of horses, senorita?' she asked, and her tone implied that she knew the answer well enough but wanted to hear her admit it.

'No, I'm afraid I don't,' Holly agreed, refusing to be any more than formally polite.

Helena's thin lips curled derisively. 'And of course you do not ride!'

'Oh, I have ridden,' Holly told her quietly. 'But not lately.'

'Really?' Helena's fine brows expressed polite surprise. 'I had not supposed that-' An eloquent shrug lent meaning to her words. 'One does not think of people who earn their living, as you do, senorita, as having the means to indulge in such activities.' She smiled down the table at her hostess. 'You must enlighten me further on the customs of your country, Senora Delgaro!'

'I'll do so with pleasure, Helena,' Aunt Nan told her, gently polite and catching her niece's eye as she spoke. Trying to be rea.s.suring, Holly realized. 'I think you're probably labouring under a lot of delusions about England and the English, my dear.'

Helena's elegant shoulders shrugged carelessly. 'It is possible,' she said offhandedly. 'I have been to London once only, and then only for a very brief time. I was not very much impressed.'

'Oh, but you wouldn't be impressed by the horses you saw in London,' Aunt Nan said mildly, deliberately misunderstanding. 'Unless of course you happened to see the Household Cavalry. You should have gone further afield, Helena - you'd probably have been surprised.'

Aunt Nan had every appearance of being serious, and Holly, glancing up at him, saw Marcos's wide mouth twitch betrayingly at one corner, while Don Josh's white head nodded briefly in approval. He would defend his wife to his last breath, but at the moment she needed no champion, and Holly wished she had as much aplomb when she was faced with Helena's malice.

'Possibly.' Elegant shoulders shrugged carelessly, but Helena was already giving her attention to Holly again, possibly seeing her as a less able opponent than her aunt, and she raked her dark gaze over her in a brief, swift, unflattering appraisal. 'Do you get your clothes in London, senorita?' she asked. 'I know that London is supposed to be one of the world's fashion centres.'

'I believe so,' Holly agreed, steeling herself for the inevitable onslaught.

'Of course-' another shrug dismissed the idea as unlikely, 'I have always considered Paris to be the only place for clothes that have real chic. Do you not agree?*

Holly swallowed hard on the temper that sat like a tight little ball in her throat and threatened to break out at any moment, but she managed to smile, a somewhat strained effort, as her antagonist probably recognized. Yet again it seemed she was to be subjected to Helena's malicious sn.o.bbery, and she renewed her vow to leave the castle at the earliest opportunity.

'I suppose it all depends on what one is looking for,' Holly said quietly at last, aware that Marcos was watching her with more than a little interest. Her blue eyes shone deeply blue in the yellow light from the lamps and they challenged Helena across the table.

They studied the sleekly cut black silk dress the other girl wore. It was long and clinging, but it had a cowled neckline, almost like a nun's habit, and it took a woman like Helena to make it look anything but hideously unflattering. 'Personally I find the Paris houses are inclined to produce some rather outlandish styles at times,' Holly said quietly at last. 'But it's all a matter of taste, of course.'

Helena's dark eyes glowed maliciously. 'Of course,' she echoed. 'And your own tastes so obviously are for the plain and simple, senorita. Also, of course,' she added with a faint smile, 'Paris is rather expensive.'

It was the coup de grace, Holly recognized, and felt the sympathy of at least two of the listeners, although she did not look up at any of them. She had tried playing Helena at her own game and, inevitably, lost, for she stood no chance against the other girl's long practice.

'It's very expensive,' Holly admitted. 'Far more than I can afford, Senorita Mendez '

'Naturally!' Again those dark, malicious eyes raked over Holly's pretty jade dress that she had felt so good in until now, and a small, tight smile condemned its simple flattery. 'Such a pity,' she murmured with pseudo sympathy, and Holly curled her fingers round the handle of her fork to control her temper.

From the corner of her eye she saw one of Marcos's long brown hands go out and touch his father's arm, as if the old man had been going to say something and he stopped him. 'You should have a dress the colour of deep jade, Helena,' Marcos said softly. 'It is much more becoming than black, is it not, Dona Ana?'

Whatever Aunt Nan replied, or even if she answered him at all, Holly did not know, for her head was spinning wildly with the realization that Marcos had put his fiancee firmly in her place in Holly's defence. And without a doubt, it would do nothing to endear her to Helena, but it gave Holly herself a sudden feeling of elation that she strove hard to quell. Nothing, but nothing, must be allowed to change her mind about leaving.

It was only two days later that Aunt Nan broke the news that Helena would be coming to lunch again, and Holly made no pretence of being glad about the news. She had no real right to express such a forcible opinion about one of her aunt's guests, she supposed, but in this case she felt pretty sure that, given a choice, Aunt Nan would never have had Helena Mendez in her home. In the circ.u.mstances, she had no option.

'You really don't like Helena, do you, baby?' she asked, and Holly smiled ruefully.

'It isn't for me to express an opinion one way or the other,' she said. 'And it isn't me that has to like her, Aunt Nan. You're the one who'll have her for a daughter-in-law.'

'Yes, I suppose I shall, shan't I? Her aunt smiled and patted her hands. 'Oh well, I've learned to adapt to a lot of things since I came here, darling, and Helena's one of them. I know she doesn't like me, in fact,' she added with a rueful smile, 'I think she rather despises me! Poor Helena!' She sighed, apparently in sympathy with her future stepdaughter-in-law. 'She's never lived in close proximity with the lower orders before, and I rather think I - we make her uneasy.'

'If she was a little more friendly to the lower orders,' Holly said shortly, 'she wouldn't have to be uneasy.'

Aunt Nan shrugged, in that so typically Spanish way again. 'Ah well,' she said, 'with Jose to take the sting out of anything Helena can do or say, I don't worry too much about her.'

'Neither do I, I suppose,' Holly said thoughtfully, and wondered if this was as good a time as any to make known her decision to leave. 'I - I thought of going on, Aunt Nan. Visiting another part of Spain for the rest of my holiday.'

Her aunt looked taken aback for a moment, then she frowned anxiously. 'Is it because of Helena?' she asked. 'But, Holly dear-'

'Not especially because of Helena,' Holly interrupted. She took her aunt's hands, anxious to rea.s.sure her, but wondering if she could do so without revealing the true reason for her decision. 'I love it here, Aunt Nan, and I love being with you and Don Jose, you've made me marvellously welcome, it's just that-'

one broke off there, shaking her head, not quite sure how to put into words some reasonable excuse for leaving, and Aunt Nan looked at her with gentle understanding. 'I think perhaps I understand, darling,' she told her softly.

'Do you?' Holly looked at her anxiously, wondering how much to take her aunt into her confidence. After all, Marcos was her aunt's close family now. The man in both their minds was not a stranger to her aunt, he was her stepson and had been closer to her than Holly herself had been for the past ten years.

'When you spoke about it before, I should have realized. It is because of Marcos, isn't it?' Aunt Nan asked gently, and Holly hesitated before she nodded. It was discomfiting to realize how close to tears she felt.

'Yes,' she said resignedly. 'I suppose you could say it was because of Marcos.'

'Oh, baby, I'm so sorry!' Her aunt's blue eyes looked at her anxiously, torn between the devil and the deep, Holly thought, and sympathized with her predicament.

Holly shrugged, smiling to dispel any notion that she was leaving as a heartbroken innocent. That was the last impression she wanted to give. 'It's not as bad as all that, Aunt Nan,' she told her. 'But - well, your gallant stepson is rather heady wine for a poor working girl, and I think it would be better if I left before I really am swept off my feet in the proverbial manner.'

'Is it likely to happen, darling?' her aunt asked, and Holly pulled a wry face.

'It's possible, if I stay on,' she admitted frankly. 'And in the circ.u.mstances I'm not prepared to take any chances, Aunt Nan. It isn't as if it would do any good to make an all-out fight of it with Helena,' she added with a short laugh. 'I'd only be fighting Marcos as well, he's very firmly set on the course mapped out for him!'

'I'm afraid so, darling.' Aunt Nan looked very thoughtful for a moment or two. 'I only wish there was some way of - changing things,' she said with a small sigh. 'I'd encourage you to stay on, you know that, dear, don't you? But-' again that Latin shrug of resignation, 'it was all cut and dried, long before either of us came on the scene, and there's nothing we can do about it.'

'Oh no, of course there isn't,' Holly agreed hastily. 'Except the obvious, and I intend doing that without delay!' It appalled her to discover herself on the brink of crying again, but she could not imagine anything worse for creating the wrong impression, so she shook her head and smiled determinedly. 'I shall just put it down to one more holiday romance,' she said brightly. 'I'll arrange to go as soon as I can. Aunt Nan.'

Her aunt sighed deeply. 'Yes, all right, baby.'

For a moment Holly looked at her thoughtfully, then she put a tentative hand on her arm, hesitating to put into words what was in her mind. 'But - please, Aunt Nan, don't say anything to anyone about my going, will you?'

Her aunt looked at her curiously for a moment, frowning. 'Not if you'd rather I didn't, Holly, but - well, wouldn't it be more polite, more kind, if you let Jose know at least a day or so before you leave?'

'Oh yes, of course,' Holly conceded, anxious not to be misunderstood. 'But please, don't let Marcos know!'

'I won't, since you seem so adamant about it, dear.' She studied Holly's face for a moment in silence, then gently squeezed her fingers. 'You surely don't think he'll-'

'Try to persuade me to stay on?' Holly asked, and laughed, a little unsteadily. 'I don't know, Aunt Nan. Maybe I'm being - conceited and he won't even bother if I'm here or not, but - well, he might just try, for the sheer pleasure of proving to himself that he could do it!' Her blue eyes were huge and shiny and she somehow looked very young and vulnerable suddenly as she shook her head slowly. 'And I'm afraid I'm all too easily persuadable by your stepson, Aunt Nan!'

When Don Jose was told about her decision to leave, he was flatteringly unenthusiastic about the idea, and sought to make her change her mind, but when he realized how firmly decided she was, he smiled resignedly.

'It is our loss, mi cara,' he told her quietly. 'But young ladies these days know their own minds well enough not to be persuaded, hmm?' He took one of her hands and held it for a moment in one of his long, thin ones, his almost blind eyes looking at her anxiously. 'But you have been happy here with us, Holly mi cara, si?' he asked. 'I would not like to think that something here had - disturbed you enough to drive you away from us.'

It was going to be even harder than she had antic.i.p.ated, Holly realized, but she resolutely hardened her heart against weakening. 'I've been wonderfully happy here, Don Jose,' she said softly. 'You've been wonderful to me, and I appreciate it more than I can say.' Impulsively she bent forward and planted a gentle kiss on his drawn face, with its features a mere ghost of the hawklike arrogance of his son. 'Thank you, Tio Jose.'

She had learned the Spanish for uncle from Aunt Nan, and she saw that he was touched by the gesture as well as by the gentle kiss. 'I shall miss you, pequena,' he said gently. 'Please do not wait ten yeans again before you visit us, hmm?'

'I won't,' Holly promised, but wondered if it was a promise she would be able to keep. So much depended on circ.u.mstances.

CHAPTER SIX.

Holly contacted a branch of the same travel firm that had arranged her pa.s.sage out, and booked a flight to Barcelona leaving in four days' time. If she was going away, she meant to go far enough for there to be no chance of her running into Marcos at any time, and Barcelona was just about as far as she could get and still be in Spain.

She could, of course, have taken an earlier flight out, but she did not want to make her departure too abrupt and appear discourteous to her host. Four days would give her long enough to make the most of her castle-in- Spain dream and enjoy the company of her aunt for a few days longer.

The trouble with antic.i.p.ating the end of something pleasurable was that the time went so quickly, and she had never known three days go by so fast. Before she knew where she was she was spending what was to be her last day at the Castillo de la Valeroso, and she was feeling more low-spirited than she had ever done in her life before.