Читать книгу The Japanese Screen - Anne Mather, Anne Mather - Страница 6

FERNANDO hadn’t wanted to come to the party. Parties were not his favourite form of relaxation and after the hectic negotiations of the past few days that was what he most needed. But the Castanas were friends of the family, and he could hardly have refused Lucie’s invitation without causing a rift in relationships. All the same, after over an hour of small talk, of circulating in a smoke-filled room and making conversation out of a multitude of inane pleasantries, he was more than ready to leave. He was tired and not in the best of tempers, and he was growing weary of Lucie’s determined attempts to flirt with him. She was a married woman with a child, and should have been beyond such a thing. Certainly in Spain her behaviour would have caused a number of raised eyebrows and the kind of gossip no self-respecting woman would want to arouse. But apparently Lucie imagined herself far from the rigid ethics of her own country, and as her husband was away for a few days on business, she was surrendering to the somewhat permissive society of London.

He looked round the crowded lounge wondering what excuse he could give for leaving so early. By no means were all the people present Spaniards. It was true that a large percentage were fellow compatriots, but the Castanas numbered English and Americans among their friends, too. There was a plentiful supply of wines and spirits, should he have felt so inclined, and an excellent buffet occupied the long tables to one side of the room. A hi-fi system offered an undistracting mixture of popular music and he supposed that of its type it was a reasonably successful gathering. But the truth was he was bored, and he thought with a sense of resignation that the isolation of his study back home would have offered a more than adequate substitute.

‘Fernando?’

Lucie was offering him yet another cocktail which he politely refused, summoning his determination to apologize and take his leave, when there was an unexpected interruption of the proceedings. A small boy came careering into the room, looking round a trifle desperately for a familiar face. When he saw Lucie he made straight for her, clinging to her skirts and crying wildly. He was wearing only pyjama trousers and as his face and hands were most obviously wet and possibly sticky, Lucie, not unnaturally, tried to push him away from her. But the boy cried all the louder and a ripple of amused speculation ran round the room.

A girl was following the boy, Fernando saw now, and she had halted rather uncertainly at the door to the crowded lounge. Then, with a slight shrug of her shoulders, she moved towards the boy and his mother. She was embarrassed, no doubt conscious of the conspicuousness of her blue nylon overall beside so many extravagant evening creations, and Fernando felt an unexpected stirring of sympathy. Women, young or old, did not particularly interest him, but this slender girl, a little above average height with dark-fringed eyes and a mass of ash-blonde hair that was presently secured rather inadequately by two elastic bands, aroused his compassion.

‘What do you think you are doing, Eduardo?’ Lucie was demanding in English for the benefit of their guests. ‘You know you are not permitted to come in here in the evenings. Señorita King!’ She turned on the girl. ‘What is the meaning of this?’

The girl’s cheeks were pink, but she took a firm hold on the boy’s hand before replying. ‘I’m sorry, señora. Eduardo has been unwell, and he insisted upon seeing you. I told him you could not be disturbed, but he ran away from me.’

Lucie clearly couldn’t decide whether or not to rail at the girl there and then or retire gracefully and make her feelings known at some future date. However, her Latin temperament seemed to get the better of discretion, because in heated tones she exclaimed: ‘What do you mean – he ran away from you? What were you doing, señorita? Are you not capable of controlling one small boy?’

The girl stood her ground, and Fernando admired her for it. ‘Eduardo and I were in the bathroom trying to get him cleaned up,’ she declared. ‘He slipped out of the door when my back was turned. I followed as quickly—’

Lucie waved her hands impatiently. ‘Spare me these small details, señorita,’ she snapped. ‘You know perfectly well that while his father is away Eduardo is inclined to be a little – er – upset.’

The girl listened and then said quietly, but distinctly: ‘I think the amount of sweets he consumed this afternoon is a more likely explanation, señora—’

Lucie clasped her hands together. ‘That will do, señorita,’ she interrupted her shrilly. ‘I will not be argued with in this insolent manner—’

‘Lucie! Cool down!’ Fernando spoke to her in their own language. ‘There is no harm done.’ He glanced in the girl’s direction and met her level gaze, noting that she did not seem to welcome his intervention, but going on in spite of it. ‘Er – Señorita King is not to blame. Eduardo is young – he is impulsive. He naturally wanted to be with you – he wanted your love and attention when he was feeling unwell.’

Lucie measured his gaze for a long moment and then he saw the unwelcome invitation appear in her eyes again. ‘Yes – yes. You are right, Fernando,’ she agreed, responding in an intimate patois. She turned back to her son and his companion. ‘You may go along with Señorita King, Eduardo. We will say no more about this tonight.’ She shifted her gaze to encompass the girl. ‘We will discuss it further in the morning—’

But now Eduardo was hanging back, tugging at the girl’s hand, looking imploringly at his mother, then at Fernando. ‘I want to stay, Mama,’ he whimpered. ‘Do not send me away!’

Fernando stepped forward, squatting down beside the boy, smiling at him encouragingly. ‘Your mama is busy right now, Eduardo. As you can see, she has guests to attend to. Tomorrow she will have time for you.’

‘Tomorrow she will be tired,’ accused Eduardo tearfully. ‘And Papa is away …’

Fernando hesitated. He had no wish to get further involved with the Castanas, but Eduardo’s forlorn face aroused his sympathy. ‘I have an idea,’ he said gently. ‘Tomorrow I shall not be busy – or tired. How would you like me to come and take you – where?’ He shrugged. ‘The park – the zoo?’

Eduardo’s face lit up. ‘I have not been to the zoo,’ he exclaimed.

‘The zoo it is, then. Tomorrow morning at – let me see – ten o’clock?’ He raised his eyes to the girl’s face, and speaking in English said: ‘Eduardo and I are going to the zoo. Will tomorrow at ten be suitable?’

The girl inclined her head and looked to Lucie for guidance. ‘I – I suppose so.’

‘That is so kind of you, Fernando,’ exclaimed Lucie, as he straightened. ‘Eduardo misses a man’s attention.’ She smiled, and her eyes said: As I do myself, but Fernando chose to ignore it.

‘Very well.’ Fernando was speaking in English again now. ‘Good-bye for the present, Eduardo.’

‘Adios, señor!’ Eduardo’s face was wreathed in smiles and he went with the girl quite happily then.

The girl herself walked away with a certain amount of unconscious dignity, and watching her straight back Fernando wondered why he had bothered to intervene on her behalf. He had not done it for Lucie’s sake, to prevent her from making a fool of herself in front of her guests, he had wanted to save the girl – what was her name, Señorita King, further embarrassment. But it seemed she had no appreciation of his motives.

The following morning Fernando’s reservations had increased. He bitterly regretted the impulse he had had to give Eduardo an unexpected treat. It was giving Lucie the entirely false impression that he wished to see her again, and nothing could have been further from the truth. After showering and dressing and breakfasting in his suite at the Savoy, he had an almost overwhelming inclination to telephone the Castana house and make some excuse for not taking the boy out that morning, but he could not bring himself to act so selfishly. Instead, he dressed in a navy denim suit with a belted jacket, combed his thick straight hair and decided it needed cutting, and took a taxi to Lorrimer Terrace before he had second thoughts.

A young maid admitted him to the now quiet house. Only the pervading aroma of stale cigarette smoke and a faint drift of perfume evidenced the party of the night before, and he waited impatiently in the morning room, eager to be gone.

A few minutes later the maid reappeared. ‘Master Eduardo will be ready presently, sir,’ she said. ‘And Señora Castana suggests that you take lunch with her on your return.’

Fernando’s mouth turned down at the corners, and the maid who was watching him thought what an attractive mouth it was. He was an attractive man altogether, without the somewhat swarthy case to his skin that Señor Castana himself had. He was tall, too, taller than the average Spaniard, though not so tall as to appear ungainly. His hair was dark, but not black, and his clothes fitted him closely, emphasizing the powerful length of his legs and the muscular expanse of his chest.

‘You may inform Señora Castana after I have gone that I shall be unable to accept her invitation,’ he stated quietly. ‘I am not sure, but Eduardo and I may – take lunch out.’

The maid looked surprised, and Fernando conceded that perhaps he had spoken a little bluntly. But there was no other way to avoid difficulties. So long as Carlos was away on business, Lucie was a menace.

There was the sound of footsteps behind them in the hall and Fernando swung round as Eduardo came into the room followed closely by the young woman he knew as Señorita King. Inclining his head, he spoke to both of them: ‘Good morning, Eduardo. Good morning, Miss King.’

Eduardo gave a little skip. At seven years of age, a trip to the zoo was an exciting experience. ‘Are you ready to go, señor?’ he demanded eagerly.

Fernando smiled. ‘I see you are,’ he commented, still speaking English.

‘Oh, yes. I have been waiting for you to come for hours!’ declared Eduardo, with characteristic exaggeration.

Fernando shifted his attention to the young woman. This morning she was not wearing the nylon overall, but he suspected the neat grey skirt, the white shirt blouse and broad black belt signified some kind of uniform. Her hair, too, had been plaited and formed a coronet on top of her head. Although she was slim, she was not thin, and he could see the rounded swell of her breasts pressing against the material of her blouse. He looked away quickly, conscious of an unaccustomed quickening of his senses. It was not like him to notice such things, and he despised himself for doing so. The girl was nothing to him, and from the way she was looking at him he sensed she objected strongly to his appraisal.

‘Well—’ he began determinedly, forcing an enthusiasm he did not feel. ‘Shall we go?’

They all moved out into the hall and the maid departed about her business. The girl secured the zip on Eduardo’s anorak and stepped aside. But even as she did so a voice hailed them from above, a voice Fernando recognized only too well.

‘Fernando! Oh, Fernando, you are still here! I am so glad I have caught you.’

Lucie was standing on the stairs, a flimsy negligee draped about her. The girl, Miss King, seemed embarrassed and would have left them, but Fernando found himself doing something he had never intended to do. He looked up at Lucie, but as he did so he spoke in an undertone to the girl: ‘Get your coat, Miss King. You are coming with us.’

She stared at him as if he was mad, but Lucie was speaking again and Fernando had to move reluctantly towards the stairs.

‘If you will wait a few minutes, Fernando,’ she was saying, ‘I will come with you. That is …’ her lips curved provocatively, ‘that is – if you do not mind.’

Fernando thrust his hands into the pockets of his jacket. ‘Do you think it is your sort of outing, Lucie?’ he inquired dryly. ‘Er – you are aware that Miss King is accompanying us, are you not?’

Lucie’s brows drew together. ‘Miss King?’

‘But of course.’ Fernando was charming. He turned to look into the girl’s indignant, but as yet impotent, face. ‘Is that not so, Miss King?’

It was the moment of truth, the moment he dreaded. He was daring her to deny it. But to his relief she merely bent her head and said in muffled tones: ‘Yes, of course, señor.’

Lucie looked almost as angry as she had done the night before, but she controlled herself by a supreme effort and said: ‘In that case, there is no point, is there, caro?’ She took a deep breath. ‘Instead, I shall await your return with impatience. Did the maid tell you that I expect you to stay for lunch?’

Fernando sighed. ‘She did. But I cannot.’

‘Why not?’ Lucie was angry again.

‘It is not possible, Lucie. The zoo is a large place. I do not expect to be back before – well – four o’clock.’

‘Four o’clock!’ Lucie was furious. She gathered the negligée closer about her, apparently uncaring of the fact of its transparency. ‘Very well, then. You will dine with us, si?’

Fernando hesitated. To issue a firm refusal could continue this discussion interminably. With a faint shrug, he said: ‘Perhaps, Lucie, perhaps.’ He forced a smile. ‘We must be going. I have a taxi waiting.’

Lucie’s jaw was taut. ‘Until dinner, then.’

Fernando gave her a small bow. ‘Until later,’ he agreed, non-committally.

Miss King put on a grey coat to match her skirt and accompanied him out to the cab. They all climbed in and not until Eduardo was staring in an engrossed manner out of the window did she say: ‘I should be glad if you would never place me in such an awkward position again, señor! The invitation you issued was for Eduardo alone, and you know it!’

Fernando lay back in his seat, half turned towards her, watching her intently. Her voice was low and angry, but it had a husky intonation which he found pleasing. When she was angry, as now, she was disturbingly feminine, and not even the plain, even ugly, uniform could disguise that He wondered what she would look like in casual clothes? He wondered what her name was. How old she was.

Realizing she was waiting for him to make some comment, he said: ‘All right. It was – initially. However, I thought that perhaps you might enjoy the outing—’

‘I don’t believe you!’ She was abrupt.

‘Oh, really?’ Fernando didn’t altogether care for her manner. ‘Is not that a rather insolent remark?’

She sighed. ‘I’m not blind, señor. Nor am I a fool.’

‘I never imagined you were.’

‘Nevertheless, that was not the reason you insisted on my company, and I’d be grateful if in future you’d refrain from using me to extricate yourself from situations which have grown too hot for you!’

‘Why, you—’ He bit off an epithet, conscious that for the first time in his life he had the urge to strike a woman. He stared at her angrily. No one had ever spoken to him in such a manner, would ever dare to do so! He was enraged, not least because although in one way she was speaking the truth, his own involvement was such an innocent one. ‘Do you realize I could put you out of this cab here and now, drive back to Señora Castana, and have you dismissed at once!’

She shook her head. ‘That’s entirely up to you, of course.’

‘Don’t you care?’ He was astounded.

She hesitated. ‘Well, I shouldn’t like to lose my job for incompetence, but this is rather different, isn’t it?’

Fernando chewed his lower lip. He had never met anyone quite like her before, and as his anger dispersed almost as quickly as it had come he found himself in the ignominious position of wanting to explain his motivations.

Frowning, he said: ‘I see no reason why I should justify my actions to you, but I can assure you that while there might be some truth in your suggestion that I invited you to evade—’ He glanced at Eduardo rather significantly. ‘Well – to evade certain people, the situation is by no means too – hot – for me!’

She pressed her lips together and he had the disturbing suspicion that she was trying not to smile, a suspicion which was increased when she looked up at him.

‘You’re laughing at me!’ he accused irritably.

‘No, I’m not.’ She made a helpless gesture. ‘Besides, what you choose to do with your time is no concern of mine except where it impinges on mine.’

‘Madre mia, I know it’s not!’ he snapped shortly, angry now that he had tried to explain. ‘If you would rather not accompany us then I shall direct the driver to take you back again,’ he added, in stiff tones.

She looked at him then and he saw that her eyes were a curious shade of deep violet, African violet, dark and beautiful. ‘I didn’t actually say that I didn’t want to accompany you,’ she said carefully. ‘Only that I didn’t wish to be involved in – in schemes.’

‘My schemes?’

‘If you like.’

‘You still believe—’ He broke off. ‘I give you my word. Lucie – that is – your employer and I are friends, that is all.’

Her lids fell to hide her expression. ‘If you say so, señor.’

Fernando controlled an almost irresistible desire to shake her. Was she deliberately goading him? Or was the image of Lucie in her negligee so firmly imprinted upon her mind as to negate anything he might say? He couldn’t be sure. He didn’t even know why he felt bound to try and explain.

Changing his tack, he inclined his head and said: ‘Very well, Miss King. I suggest we forget the unfortunate beginning and try and enjoy the day.’ He frowned. ‘We have not even been introduced. Fernando Cuevas, at your service, señorita.’

It was beholden upon her to make some similar statement, but she was obviously reluctant. He wondered why. His experience of women had taught him that he was invariably regarded in a favourable light, and while he did not normally make any effort to exert the charm which came so naturally to him, it was galling to realize that to this young woman he represented something else.

At last she said: ‘My name is Susannah, señor, Susannah King.’

‘Susannah.’ He repeated the word reflectively. It suited her. It was a wholly feminine appellation.

Eduardo turned from the window at that moment, gesticulating excitedly. ‘Señorita, señorita, is that St. Paul’s catedral? You said you would take me there one day, señorita. Will you? Will you?’

Susannah leant forward and then smiled. ‘Oh, no, Eduardo, that’s not St. Paul’s. That’s just a church. St. Paul’s is bigger, much bigger.’

‘Perhaps you would permit me to escort you both there another day,’ suggested Fernando. ‘Perhaps tomorrow?’

As soon as the words were uttered he wondered why he had said them. He had been reluctant to come out this morning. What was he thinking of – suggesting yet another visit to the Castana house?

Susannah King was looking at him strangely too. Perhaps she suspected some ulterior motive for his suggestion. He cursed himself for putting himself in such an ambiguous situation.

‘That’s very kind of you, señor,’ she was saying now, ‘but Eduardo has lessons tomorrow.’

Eduardo’s face dropped and the relief Fernando should have felt did not materialize. Instead, he found himself saying: ‘You give Eduardo these lessons, Miss King?’

‘Yes.’

‘You are then the boy’s – governess?’

‘That’s right,’ she nodded.

‘But I do not understand. Yesterday evening you were acting as nursemaid.’

She sighed. ‘Señora Castana has no nursemaid for Eduardo. She says she likes to look after him herself. When she cannot, I – I cope.’

Fernando found this knowledge not to his liking. Back home in Spain one employed a governess to teach, a nursemaid to care for the child’s welfare. Lucie knew this as well as he did. Surely they were not so short of financial assets that they could not afford both. But no. The Castanas were a wealthy family. It was much more likely, though not so palatable, that so long as Miss King was prepared to accommodate them they preferred to save a second salary.

They were driving now beside the green stretches of Regent’s Park, and Fernando leant forward and signified to the driver that they would walk the rest of the way. Susannah and the boy climbed out, Fernando paid their fare, and the cab rolled away.

It was a cool but pleasant morning in early April. Spring was in the air and the park was colourful with tulips and daffodils and narcissi. Even at this time of day there were plenty of people about, nannies with their charges, young mothers with prams, dogs and their owners enjoying the unexpectedly warm sunshine. They walked along the path towards the zoological gardens and conversation between them lapsed. Only Eduardo seemed unaware of the fact, exclaiming every now and then when a dog ran near to them or a child with a particularly interesting toy attracted his attention.

Zoos had never appealed to Fernando. The idea of a collection of wild animals being confined in small spaces for the public to come and stare at seemed to him a rather cruel and degrading arrangement. But when he remarked upon this to Susannah King he found that she had very definite ideas of her own upon the subject.

‘Most of these animals were born in captivity,’ she exclaimed. ‘They’d be no more at home in the wild than – than say, you would be, cast away on some desert island, remote from all the sophisticated accoutrements to civilized society you’ve grown used to.’

Fernando smiled. ‘And how do you know how I would react to such circumstances?’ he commented with a trace of irony. ‘I might find such a situation intriguing – de-pending, of course, on my companion.’

He saw the rose colour flood her cheeks. He was surprised at how easily he could embarrass her. So self-confident in some ways, in others she was extremely vulnerable, and the knowledge troubled him. He found himself wondering about her background, whether she had any home life, whether her parents were still alive – and then stopped himself. This would not do. After today, he would probably never see her again, which was just as well. He was becoming far too interested in her. He was leaving England at the end of the week. He was returning to his home in Spain – to his own family.

He noticed that after that she did not speak to him directly for some time, but concentrated on Eduardo, pointing out different species, explaining their various eating habits. Fernando was quite content to stroll along behind, answering Eduardo’s questions only when they were addressed to him.

It was after one o’clock when Susannah seemed to become aware of the lateness of the hour, and casting a doubtful look in Fernando’s direction said: ‘I think Eduardo ought to have a drink and something to eat, señor. Could we go to the café and have a sandwich?’ Fernando hesitated. The café, within sight and sound, not to mention smell, of the animals did not appeal to him. ‘I suggest we leave the gardens and find a restaurant, señorita. Eduardo has seen almost everything, has he not? Perhaps this afternoon we might do something else, si?’

‘Que?’ Eduardo stared at them both excitedly. ‘Que le parece, señorita,’ he appealed. ‘Tengo mucha hombre!’

‘Speak English, Eduardo,’ reproved Susannah automatically, and then gave a small shrug of her shoulders. ‘I don’t know what to say, señor.’

Fernando cupped her elbow with his hand. ‘Then I suggest you leave everything to me,’ he remarked quietly. ‘Eduardo is hungry. Were he and I alone, we would most certainly dine at a restaurant of my choosing. Your company simply makes that a more attractive proposition.’ Susannah drew herself away from him quickly, and he could see she was embarrassed again. For himself he was conscious of a distinct feeling of exhilaration in his stomach brought about by the trembling he had felt in that instant before she drew herself away.

They went to a Spanish restaurant in a mews off Oxford Street. It was a place Fernando frequented regularly on his visits to London, and he was recognized at once. The service was efficient, but unobtrusive, and he noticed that Susannah seemed to enjoy the onion soup, the chicken and rice, and the fruit-filled icecream which they ate as a dessert. They had a rosé wine with the meal, and even Eduardo drank his with enjoyment. Afterwards, the waiter brought coffee, and a liqueur for Fernando which Susannah had declined. Eduardo was excused and wandered off to examine an enormous aquarium filled with tropical fish which was an integral part of the wall near the entrance to the restaurant, and Fernando asked whether Susannah would mind if he lit a cheroot.

She shook her head. He could see that she was nervous and endeavoured to put her at her ease, talking about Spain in general terms, discussing the wine-growing industry of which his family had been members for generations.

‘I know very little about wines,’ she admitted, cradling her coffee cup between her fingers. ‘They’re not considered a natural accompaniment to a meal here – at least, not where I come from.’

‘Where do you come from, Miss King?’ Fernando questioned, unable to prevent himself from doing so.

She put down her cup. ‘I was born in Yorkshire, actually. That’s in the north of England. But when I had completed my training I came south to work.’

He drew deeply on his cheroot, exhaling into the air above her head. ‘Your parents still live in Yorkshire?’ he suggested.

‘No. My parents are dead.’ She sighed. ‘Actually, I never knew who my parents were. I lived in an orphanage until I was sixteen years old – a children’s home is how they like to describe it.’

‘You sound – bitter.’

‘Oh, no, no.’ She shook her head. ‘I’m not bitter. They were very good to me, actually. I just don’t think it’s fair that women should have babies and then – abandon them. If I had a child, I’d want to care for it myself.’ She flushed. ‘Where is Eduardo?’

‘Eduardo is quite happy watching the fish,’ replied Fernando, impatient at the interruption. ‘Go on. I’m interested.’

‘There’s nothing more to tell.’

‘You’ve worked for the Castanas ever since you came to London?’ He was surprised.

‘No. No, not all the time. I’ve been here four years. I worked for an American family to begin with, but they divorced and I didn’t want to go and live in the States, so I joined the Castanas six months ago.’

‘I see,’ he nodded. He had the feeling that Lucie Castana would not keep her staff very long. He dropped ash into the tray in the centre of the table and then said: ‘Don’t you want to get married? Have children – as you said.’

Susannah coloured again. ‘Not for expediency, if that’s what you mean, señor,’ she stated stiffly, and he cursed himself for putting her on the offensive again. ‘Don’t you think it’s time we were leaving.’

Fernando heaved a sigh. He could have gone on talking to her for a long time. There were many more things he would like to know about her, and this in itself was unusual for him. Women had always seemed vapidly transparent creatures, intent solely on finding a man and capturing him. Marriage was a convenience, for both sexes, and anything beyond that was purely a sexual necessity. He had never particularly cared for talking to a woman before, and he resented having to share her attention with the boy.

Outside the restaurant Eduardo had a stream of suggestions as to where they should spend the remainder of the afternoon, but Susannah was not disposed to listen to them. ‘It’s already getting on for three o’clock,’ she declared. ‘I’m sure we’ve taken up enough of Señor Cuevas’ time already.’

Fernando thrust his hands into the pockets of his jacket. He wanted to detain her, and it would not be difficult with Eduardo beginning to sulk at having his afternoon cut short, but common sense warned him that he had gone far enough.

‘I think perhaps Miss King is right, Eduardo,’ he stated, looking up and down the street rather impatiently. ‘Besides, you will want to go back and tell your mother what you have seen, will you not?’

Eduardo pouted. ‘You said we would go somewhere else,’ he accused, and Fernando felt a sense of contrition. He was letting the boy down simply because it was easier for him that way, and that wasn’t altogether kind.

‘Another day,’ he conceded at last. ‘If Miss King will permit you to miss lessons.’

Susannah gave a faint smile. ‘Thank you very much for escorting us, señor, and for that most delicious lunch.’

‘No tanto. It was nothing.’ Fernando could hear the stiffness in his voice, but her attempted dismissal irritated him. It was one thing for him to decide that they must part and quite another for her to take it upon herself to dismiss him. ‘I will accompany you back to the house, naturally.’

Susannah gave him a startled look. ‘That’s not necessary. That is—’ She paused, and he could almost read her thoughts. ‘Of course you are at liberty to come with us if you wish.’

‘As far as the door at least,’ he conceded sardonically, and was gratified to see that he had disconcerted her again.

But when the cab halted outside the Castana house in Lorrimer Terrace and Eduardo bounded out, intent on regaling everyone with his experiences, Fernando stayed Susannah with a hand on her arm. ‘One moment, señorita,’ he said in a low voice, aware of the troubled anxiety in her eyes.

‘Yes, señor?’

She sounded cool while he could feel heated blood in his veins. He drew a deep breath. ‘I wish you to have dinner with me tomorrow evening, Miss King.’

Her eyes fell before his, looking at his lean brown hand on the grey material of her sleeve. ‘I’m afraid I can’t, señor,’ she refused politely.

Anger erupted. ‘Por dios, why not?’

She tried to draw away. ‘I don’t think it’s a very good idea, señor. I – I don’t have a lot of free time in the evenings in any case.’

‘I think you are making excuses, Miss King. Why? Do you not trust me? I assure you, my motives are quite innocent. I enjoy talking with you, that is all.’

Susannah looked after Eduardo. ‘I must go, señor. Eduardo will tell his mother we are here. It would not do for her to find me here, with you, would it?’

An ironic smile touched his lips. ‘It is not of the slightest consequence to me whether or not Lucie finds us together.’ His eyes darkened. ‘Please – you will have dinner with me tomorrow evening, si?’

When he was disturbed his accent thickened, and he could hear it thickening now as he appealed to her. Why was it so important that she should accept his invitation?

She looked at him in an anxious fashion and then made a helpless little gesture. ‘I don’t know—’ she began awkwardly.

‘At eight,’ he insisted, pressing his advantage. ‘Walk to the end of the terrace and I will be waiting.’

‘Señor—’ she started, when Fernando saw Lucie appear in the doorway and look rather impatiently towards the cab.

He withdrew his hand from Susannah’s arm, and said: ‘Here is your employer now. Shall we get out to greet her?’

Susannah stepped awkwardly out of the cab and almost fell as she ricked her ankle on the kerb. But Lucie took not the slightest notice of her. Her eyes were intent on Fernando, and asking the cab-driver to wait, he too climbed out.

‘You’re early,’ she exclaimed, with a little dismissing nod in Susannah’s direction. ‘Come along in. We can have some tea.’

‘Gracias, no, Lucie.’ Fernando lapsed back into his own language. ‘I must go. I have an appointment with the importers at five o’clock.’

Lucie’s lips drew in. ‘You did not say that this morning, Fernando. I cancelled an afternoon engagement to be here on your return.’

‘I am sorry.’ He gave an apologetic smile.

Lucie held up her head. He could see she was warring with herself whether or not to mention the tentative dinner engagement also, but before she could come to a decision he bade her a brief Adios and climbed back into the cab. He could see the angry frustration in her face as he drove away and he hoped she would not wreak that frustration on Susannah King.