Indiscretion Page 19

  Here, at El Pavón, she was more careful in her wanderings. She never ventured near the gypsy camp, for fear of some unpleasant encounter; the gypsy with the scar on his cheek and the witch-like fortune-teller were never far from her mind. Although she had gained only a fleeting glimpse of the gitanos’ seemingly barbarous customs, part of her was still burning to understand the life of these wild people.

  One day, while on one of her solitary rambles, Alexandra had discovered a small octagonal summerhouse overgrown with red bougainvillea, and adopted it as a hideaway where she went to read or think, away from the suffocating atmosphere of the hacienda. Apart from when she was alone with her grandmother, she felt her every move judged and maybe even discussed. Besides, she had always loved losing herself in nature and welcomed her escape to the vast gardens of the property. Not for the first time it struck her how surprisingly different the wild and exotic El Pavón was compared with the lush green surroundings of Grantley Hall. With both she revelled in discovering new secret places.

  Writing didn’t come easily to Alexandra now. Since her arrival in Spain, she had amassed an extraordinary amount of material for her novel and yet, strangely enough, she was reluctant to use it. Previously, she’d never experienced the slightest difficulty in putting her ideas into words. She had written her first novel in less than three months and her second in little more than that but, with this one, she found herself unable to sketch the most vague outline of a plot. Something had shifted inside her, transformed by a silent storm. It was almost as if she were afraid to formulate her thoughts now lest they betrayed some insidious inner feeling, forcing her to face up to a reality she was eager to ignore. Was she falling in love with Salvador or was the kiss they’d passionately shared the reason for her troubled thoughts?

  One morning, after breakfast, she escaped to her usual hideout. Salvador had been particularly exasperating. During the whole meal, he’d deliberately avoided speaking to her, though once or twice she had felt his surreptitious gaze, and Alexandra was greatly relieved when she was finally able to get away from the electrifying tension in the air.

  Two hours later she was sitting in the summerhouse surrounded by mounds of crumpled paper, nervily chewing at the end of her pencil, when a rustling of leaves startled her. Somebody was watching her, hidden in the bushy foliage of the coppice. This was not the first time her intuition had warned that she was not alone. She remembered that evening not so long ago, when she thought she heard someone prowling outside her bedroom; and the night in Esmeralda’s room when someone had been listening at the door. On several occasions after that she had caught the sound of furtive footsteps again, and sensed the presence of an intruder.

  Suddenly, Alexandra realized she was entirely defenceless in this isolated spot; her cries for help would be useless as no one would hear them. Her pulse quickened as a cold tingling broke out in the nape of her neck. She became rigidly still, rooted to the spot, refusing to believe what her senses, sharpened by fear, were telling her.

  Was that the flash of something moving that she glimpsed out of the corner of her eye? A high-pitched, yet almost imperceptible hiss was followed by a soft rush of air as a projectile shot past her, brushing her cheek lightly. Her eyes widened. A few yards away, a quivering arrow had embedded itself with a thunk in the wooden beam of the gazebo. She gasped and pushed back her chair.

  Still dazed by the speed of events, she distinctly heard this time a rustling of leaves and the rapid patter of someone running. Coming to her senses, Alexandra rushed from the summerhouse and into the clearing outside. Now, she could hear the distinctive sound of feet hurrying away at top speed, and she ran through the coppice in pursuit, outrage, rather than fear, firing her steps.

  With a sudden surge in energy, she stepped up the pace, stumbling over the long unmowed grass and weaving her way through the maze of shrubs. Soon, she spotted the prowler ahead: it was Pablo, Marujita’s young brother, whom she’d saved from Fernando Lopez’s hands not so long ago. He was scurrying away like a hare, aware that the young woman was on his heels. Alexandra was gaining on him, her heart racing, when suddenly she crashed into a man’s broad chest and found herself prisoner of two strong arms that encircled her tightly.

  ‘Salvador!’ she gasped, her eyes flashing green fire, at once powerfully aware of her captor. ‘You shocked me!’ She struggled, trying to break free from his hold.

  ‘Where are you going? Why the mad rush?’ Gone was Salvador’s icy façade. The young man now regarded her with a curious, twinkling gaze.

  ‘Let me go! I nearly caught up with him,’ she cried, panting, still attempting to free herself.

  ‘Catch up with whom?’ He questioned her without relaxing the pressure of his arms around her, pulling her instead against his lean, powerful body.

  ‘Pablo!’ She was trying to recover her breath and ignore the sudden stirring inside her, triggered by Salvador’s close contact.

  ‘Pablo?’

  ‘You must have seen him, you must have passed him a few seconds ago,’ she insisted, her chest still rising and falling fast, the shrillness of her tone ringing almost hysterical in her ears. She babbled out the whole story in a trembling voice, her mind so blurred that she was barely coherent. It was not the arrow that had come so close to hitting her that alarmed her now, all she could think of was the strength of the arms clasping her and the warmth of the virile, hard body that towered over her.

  Eventually, after she had finished, Salvador released his grip, his eyes holding hers. ‘Very mysterious. Your story is rather intriguing …’ He was trying to keep a straight face but there was amusement in his voice, which immediately provoked her. Did he not believe her?

  All of a sudden Alexandra was angry. Her cheeks tinged a heated red. How dare he doubt her word! His mockery incensed her and, glaring hopelessly up at him, she said, ‘You seem to think I’ve made it all up, or that I simply have a vivid imagination. The arrow is still there, buried in the beam where I left it. Come and see for yourself.’ She dearly wanted to dent his colossal arrogance.

  Salvador let her lead him to the summerhouse. All was silent save for the happy warbling of a finch and, sensing her hesitation, he took her arm and steered her into the shady little house.

  He looked around him. ‘So this is where you hide out … this place certainly seems to inspire you, Alexandra. Never in my life have I seen so much crumpled-up paper in one spot.’ He grinned widely at her, his tone softly mocking.

  Alexandra managed a tight smile as she fought back the angry tears welling up inside her. One moment he hardly wanted to look in her direction and the next he was talking to her again, but only to laugh at her. Why did Salvador have this crushing effect on her feelings? She blinked at the grey-blue irises staring down at her with such intensity.

  ‘Come now, niña, what has brought tears to those beautiful eyes?’ he said, now regarding her with concern. He placed an arm affectionately around her shoulders.

  Alexandra moved away. ‘Please, don’t,’ she whispered. Her nerves were already on edge and his proximity did not help. Every time she had been close to him they’d ended up locked in each other’s arms, and she was not about to go down that path again, however much a part of her longed for it.

  Salvador frowned. ‘Here, dry your eyes,’ he said gruffly, ignoring her curt rejection and handing her his freshly ironed handkerchief. ‘Show me this arrow that’s so alarmed you.’ Again, he’d adopted the patronizing tone that so exasperated her. Where was the man she had glimpsed briefly in Seville, who kept appearing and disappearing like a mirage?

  Irritated at herself for being so emotional, Alexandra gazed at the spot where the projectile had embedded itself. She stared wide-eyed: the arrow was no longer there.

  ‘It was there,’ she muttered disconcertedly to herself, pointing at the beam where a few moments ago she had left it quivering. ‘I didn’t dream it.’

  She glanced anxiously at Salvador. The brief drawing together of his brows sh
owed that he believed her. Obviously he had noticed something. In two strides he reached the wooden post. He bent his dark head to examine more closely the hole clearly made by the fine point of a dart or an arrow.

  ‘Have you any idea who could have been responsible for this?’ He straightened up and turned to face her, worried now. ‘Did you actually see who fired it?’

  ‘No, but clearly it’s someone who wants me to leave.’

  ‘Just then, you mentioned Pablo. Surely you don’t suspect him?’

  ‘I can’t be certain,’ she admitted hesitantly. ‘However, I did see him scurrying off. But why would he be running away if he wasn’t guilty? And what would he have against me?’

  ‘Indeed,’ he sighed, raking his hair with long, supple fingers. He shook his head. ‘How many times have I asked … no, how many times have I begged you to go … to leave this place? I have good reason to believe that you’re not safe here, Alexandra. Why are you so determined not to listen to me?’ He looked away but she could sense his concern.

  The last trace of the fear that had gripped her earlier vanished.

  ‘And Salvador, why are you so determined not to tell me what that reason is?’ Alexandra spoke softly now, knowing he wouldn’t answer her.

  He had moved away from her, his head held high, shoulders straight, hands thrust deep in his pockets. Standing there, his Grecian profile unmoving, proud, reserved and secretive, Salvador was without doubt a puzzle. Time and again, Alexandra had been baffled by his complex personality; it reminded her of a mysterious dark cellar she felt tempted to explore, but did not dare to do so. Suddenly he looked incredibly alone, tired and vulnerable. A wave of tenderness swept over her and she realized she would never forget his strong, brooding face as it appeared now. The impulse to help him that gripped her in this moment was far stronger than the one that told her to run away.

  Aware that she was watching him, Salvador turned, shifting his gaze towards her. He remained silent but his expression was disturbingly intense. In the shadows of the gazebo, his eyes were deep blue and seemed sad.

  ‘I do believe, niña, that you’re feeling sorry for me,’ he said softly, that familiar enigmatic smile floating around his lips.

  He had caught her by surprise. ‘No, Salvador,’ she whispered after a few moments, looking away so he could not see the emotion on her face, ‘I don’t think what I feel for you can be called pity.’

  Perhaps he would have pushed the conversation further but, at that moment, there was an exclamation outside.

  ‘There you are at last, Salvador! I’ve been looking for you for more than an hour,’ cried Mercedes, bursting through the foliage. Their time alone was at an end. Alexandra wondered how long her stepsister had been there, hidden in the coppice, and what she had overheard. Mercedes would have no qualms about eavesdropping on a conversation not meant for her.

  Turning towards the newcomer, Salvador’s face lit up; he grinned broadly and Alexandra suspected he was somewhat relieved by the interruption, which put an end to a situation he no doubt found uncomfortable. A slight lump came to her throat.

  Mercedes threw her arms around her cousin’s neck and kissed him.

  ‘What can I do for my mischievous sprite this morning?’ Salvador asked, placing his arm around the young girl’s slender waist.

  Mercedes gazed up at him adoringly, nestling closer to him. ‘I wanted to go for a ride with you,’ she cajoled.

  ‘What a marvellous idea,’ he said enthusiastically. ‘Let’s go then.’

  Mercedes pouted. ‘But you know it’ll soon be lunchtime. Abuela would never forgive us for being late.’

  He laughed. ‘Well then, we’ll have to postpone our delightful ride until some other time.’

  ‘I don’t believe you, you’re as slippery as quicksilver,’ Mercedes sighed. ‘No one ever manages to make you do anything against your will.’

  ‘Come now, little Mercedes, be truthful! Have I refused to go riding with you?’

  ‘No, little Salvador,’ she went on, mimicking his tone. ‘But as Agustina always says: Truth is not a beautiful woman hidden at the bottom of a well, but a shy bird which only guile can entrap.’ They both laughed at this and Salvador gently cuffed the side of her head.

  Alexandra, feeling so obviously de trop, shifted her gaze from them. Slowly she walked away, attempting to escape also from the alarming emotions that fermented inside her. Unable to stop herself from glancing back, she caught Salvador’s parting glance over his shoulder, so quietly intense, her stomach fluttered. Then he was laughing again as Mercedes babbled on, and so she left the cousins to wander off together arm in arm towards the house.

  All through lunch she was thoughtful and scarcely touched her food. Mercedes was bewitchingly feminine with her wide black eyes, dimples at the corners of her rosebud mouth and her impish pointed chin. When she thought no one was looking, she cast a look at Alexandra, clearly wanting to indicate that a point had been scored. Alexandra had no doubt that one look at the girl made most men want to protect her and Salvador was no exception. She couldn’t help watching the two of them covertly during the meal. They were relaxed, talking and joking under the doting gaze of Doña Eugenia, who seemed delighted with her daughter’s performance. Don Alonso, as usual, was quiet and lost in his own world, not seeming to notice what was going on around him. A sudden pain stabbed Alexandra’s chest and her heart sank: could she possibly be jealous of her stepsister? Her whole being recoiled from the idea; it was a ridiculous and uncomfortable one. Mercedes was merely an immature child.

  At that moment, Alexandra glanced up and caught Esmeralda’s eye. She was sitting opposite, gazing at her inquisitively. Whereas normally she appeared to regard Mercedes’ antics, and indeed her whole family, with little interest, now her eyes were unusually alert. Alexandra felt for the first time that her cousin was watching her and had noticed her edginess. Had Esmeralda read the jealousy written on her face? Or worse, had Salvador mentioned what had happened earlier at the summerhouse? Either way, even though she and Esmeralda had made a tentative connection, Alexandra was still too confused to allow anyone to glimpse her vulnerability.

  She hastily looked down and pushed the food around on her plate distractedly with her fork. The morning’s incident must not be made known to anybody. She felt a fool, regretting the circumstances that had forced her to tell Salvador, since he seemed to have already forgotten her existence and was back to his old mercurial ways. It occurred to her that he might not have believed her after all. Perhaps he thought she’d invented the story to excite his interest. Yet, had he not confessed that he feared for her safety, begging her to leave the hacienda as soon as possible?

  What was he playing at? Her mind was trapped in a maze of questions, and thoughts flew round and round in her head like caged creatures looking for a way out. Every time it seemed she had come a little closer to him, he had acted disconcertingly. He was so unpredictable, indulging in some cat and mouse game, the rules of which were only known to him.

  Had Ramón intended to warn her against her cousin when he’d described Salvador’s difficult character? She tried to remember what he’d said, but the first evening she had spent in Spain seemed so far away now.

  ‘Is anything the matter, my dear child?’ enquired Doña María Dolores tenderly as her granddaughter was leaving the table. ‘You seem preoccupied today.’

  ‘It’s only a touch of migraine, Abuela. I’m just going to lie down. I’ve probably caught too much sun. It was rather warm today and I didn’t wear my hat.’

  As Salvador abruptly pushed back his chair and passed by her, his jaw clenched visibly. For a fleeting moment she thought he was going to turn to her and say something, but he had obviously changed his mind and quickly moved on. The Duquesa had followed Alexandra’s gaze. Her eyes narrowed slightly, like a cat noticing its prey.

  ‘Salvador,’ she called out as the young man reached the doorway, ‘I’d like to speak to you.’

  Salvador followed h
is great-aunt to her apartments. Alexandra went upstairs to her room. There, she remembered that she’d finished her book and needed something new to read. Coming back downstairs, she headed towards the library, across the hall from the Duquesa’s apartment. She was about to open the door, when a murmur of voices caught her ears.

  ‘…What is it with you and Alexandra? I can almost feel the tension crackling in the air whenever you’re in the same room together.’

  At the mention of her name, Alexandra stopped. The door to her grandmother’s room wasn’t shut properly and through the small gap she could see Salvador sitting in an armchair facing the Duquesa. He was studying the tips of his shoes, his long legs stretched out in front of him; his eyes, hidden by his lashes, were impossible to read. Alexandra could detect some of what he was feeling, though, from his pale, set face and the determined fold at the corner of his mouth.

  She pressed herself back against the wall and breathed deeply. What was she doing, creeping around like a thief? She could hear her aunt’s disapproving voice, saying, Eavesdroppers never hear any good of themselves. If she was discovered, the humiliation would be terrible, and her grandmother wouldn’t take kindly to such behaviour. And as for Salvador … She shuddered at the thought but an impetuous curiosity kept her rooted to the spot.

  Salvador hadn’t answered, still absorbed by the tips of his shoes, and though Alexandra couldn’t see her grandmother, she guessed that the Duquesa’s eyes were watching him closely.

  ‘Salvador,’ she said at length in a calm voice, ‘I have not long to live. As the days go by, I can feel death stealing up on me. True, it comes slowly, but the years roll by and I’m not getting any younger.’

  Salvador tried to protest, but she must have signalled him not to interrupt her.

  ‘My dearest wish, as you are well aware, is to see you married to a woman who loves you, who understands you, who will give you the support required by a man of your birth and rank, and help you shoulder the responsibilities and problems associated with that status. If fate has been unkind and unjust towards you for some time, why not give it a chance now? Things may not be as bleak as they look. Alexandra loves you, of this I’m sure. If she’s not conscious of it yet, she soon will be. You’re not indifferent to her either. I know you well enough and can recognize the signs.’