House of Dreams (10 page)
Authors: Brenda Joyce
Cass suddenly sank down in the chair. And Aunt Catherine's fever had broken. Everything was going to be all right. She realized she was trembling. This had all been much ado about nothing.
“Alyssa's napping,” Tracey said. “I'll have you picked up tomorrow. Call me when you've checked in at the airport.”
Cass agreed, and the sisters hung up. Then she just sat there, thanking the heavens above for this turn of fate and refusing to think about Catherine's secret. Thank God Tracey hated driving, and refused to get behind the wheel of a car.
Then Cass thought about her aunt, who was awake and asking to see her. After instructing Celia to pack a bag for her, Cass jumped into
her BMW. She made it to the hospital in exactly twenty-three minutes; traffic had been light.
her BMW. She made it to the hospital in exactly twenty-three minutes; traffic had been light.
The lights were on in her aunt's private room, as was the television. The volume was low. Her aunt was propped up on pillows in bed, but her eyes were closed. Cass didn't know if she was resting or if she had fallen asleep again. As quietly as possible, she closed the door and approached her.
She touched her forehead, which was cool. More relief surged within her and she sank down beside her aunt on the bed. She loved Catherine so much, and she wouldn't have been able to bear it if anything had happened to her. Cass could not face her deepest thoughts. Catherine had become sick from the stress of the turmoil and conflict that their family had been plunged into. Because Cass had gone to battle herself, instead of being the peacekeeper.
Never
again,
Cass vowed.
again,
Cass vowed.
“Cassandra?” Catherine whispered.
“I'm here. And you've been sick, Aunt Catherine, but your fever's broken now, and you are going to be fine.” Cass smiled at her.
Catherine smiled slightly back.
“And Alyssa is fine. Tracey called. They're both fine and we've made peace. Everything's going to be all right.”
Her aunt's eyes opened and she looked at Cass. “Nothing is right.”
Cass was startled and then dismayed. “What?”
Catherine screwed her eyes shut. A tear slipped free anyway.
Cass did not want to distress her aunt now. “Everything is fine,” she said too brightly. “In fact, I am on my way to Spain to join Tracey and Alyssa. See? Things could not be better.”
Catherine's lids flew open. “Don't go!”
Cass stood, very disturbed. “I have to go, because I need to take care of Alyssa and make sure that she comes home.”
Catherine shook her head weakly. “Is that your intention? To holiday with them in Castile?”
Cass was grave, her aunt had guessed her intentions. “Yes. Let's talk about happier subjects, Aunt Catherine. I'll bet you can come home tomorrow.”
But Catherine would not be deterred. “I am so afraid for you, for Alyssa, for Tracey,” she said. She reached for and gripped Cass's hand. “At all costs, do not go to Castilla. Do not let Tracey and Alyssa go. Just go to Spain and bring them home. Promise me.”
Cass inhaled. “I would if I could, but you know my sister, Aunt Catherine. She's in love and dead set on meeting her boyfriend. I can't stop her.”
“But you have to! You have no idea, Cass, no idea of what will happen if you go, or she goes, there.”
Cass was uneasy, but she smiled. “You're right. Aunt Catherine, what are you trying to say? What do you think will happen if we go to Castile? Look, maybe there have been a few tragedies when the de la Barcas and the de Warennes have been involved, but it was just coincidence. I am certain of it.”
“You are wrong,” Catherine said flatly. “And I know that you know, in your heart, the truth. Because I know who you are, Cassandra. You are a romantic and a fatalist. I've read every single one of your books! I know how your mind works. And I know your heart.”
Cass's unease increased. She could not respond. Because if she dared to cease the denials, her aunt was right.
Catherine had clutched her hand. “Everything was fine between me and Eduardo until we got to Casa de Suenos. Everything was just fine until then.”
“What do you mean?” Cass asked warily.
“We weren't even lovers before then,” Catherine said. “We were friends and associates, we respected one another, we adored our respective spouses! I joined him there to research her life! We were so enthralled with our pursuit of the ancestor we seemed to share. But within days, we went from being lovers to detesting one anotherâto trying to hurt one another. We became savagesâand then he was dead.”
Suddenly Cass understood. Her aunt had never recovered from the trauma of Eduardo's death, which was why she could not be rational about the de la Barca family. How relieved she was. Of course, her aunt needed therapy. Cass intended to make certain that she got it. “I will do my best to get everyone to come home,” she said, to appease her aunt. But it was a tiny white lie.
She was going to Spainâand she had every intention of going to Antonio's ancestral home in Castile. In fact, now that the most recent crisis had passed, she was aware of just how excited she was, excited and impatient. Cass realized she was smiling. The historian in her could not be kept at bay.
And as for the woman in her, well, Antonio wasn't available, he was out of her league, and the woman in her would have to be ignored.
But Catherine was staring. “I cannot believe you would even try to deceive me,” she said quietly. “Oh, God. You will go, and nothing I say or do will stop you.”
At a loss, no longer smiling, Cass said, “Please don't worry. Everything will be fine.”
“No. Nothing will ever be fine again.”
THE SUMMONING
“Are we lost?” Alyssa asked.
Cass tried to smile in the rearview mirror. But there wasn't another car on the road, and the last village they had passed through had been a jumble of old stone buildings, none with glass windows, set down in the middle of the rugged desolate terrain they were cruising through. Had Cass not seen a sign boasting ASAR AL HORNO, she would have thought the place to be a ghost town. As it was, the damned village wasn't even on the map.
And now she understood the phrase
la
tierra muerta.
The dead land.
la
tierra muerta.
The dead land.
For the past hour, they had driven through rough, barren, rocky terrain that clearly could not support agriculture or much of anything else. But not moments before that, the land had been flat, fertile, green fields, while the walled medieval town of Pedraza had been set amongst beautiful rolling hills.
Pedraza. It had been so quaint. Cass found it hard to believe that Eduardo had died so tragically thereâthe victim of a car accident. And it had been an accident. No matter what Catherine had claimed, now that Cass had had some time to reflect, some time to relax, putting a distance between them, she was convinced that her aunt was blaming herself for something that was not her fault. Because she remained traumatized, and perhaps not just by the accident. Maybe she had never gotten over the guilt of the affair.
“I thought that old woman in Pedraza said the castle was right up the road,” Tracey said with annoyance.
Cass was grimâand glad for the interruption to her thoughts. “That's what I thought. But neither one of us speaks Spanish, so maybe we misunderstood. Maybe we should have gone right at the last intersection outside of Pedraza.”
“I don't think so,” Tracey replied, her tone terse.
Cass abruptly stopped the car, squinting through the windshield in spite of the sunglasses she wore. “Can I see that map?”
Tracey handed it to her, not that Cass felt it would do any good. Unbelievably, Tracey had neither directions, an address, nor the phone number of the de la Barca house. But the house wasn't far from Pedraza, she had insisted, and the villagers there had nodded enthusiastically, pointing the way, at the mention of de la Barca and Casa de Sueños.
Casa de Suenos. Cass knew enough Spanish to know that Antonio's house was named House of Dreams. It was not just an unusual name; Cass thought it incredibly, yet somewhat eerily, romantic.
Tracey was already stepping out of the car to light up a cigarette. It was horribly hot out, but in her midriff-baring top and short white skirt, she looked amazingly cool. Cass glanced at herâshe wouldn't mind a little help with the mapâbut Tracey avoided her eyes. It had been that way since her arrival at the hotel in the middle of the night.
The tension between them remained, and it was inescapable. So much for their truce.
Grimly Cass tried to locate where they were on the map. Outside, Tracey continued to puff on her cigarette, with obvious annoyance and even impatience. Cass felt the flaring of her own temper, because if this was anyone's fault, it was her sister's.
Alyssa leaned over the backseat. “Even if we are lost, this is an adventure, isn't it? And we're all together now.” She smiled, at once worried and relieved.
Cass turned to her and couldn't resist hugging her hard. “It is an adventure,” she said gaily. “And I bet that castle is right around the corner.
Tracey tossed her cigarette aside.
Cass looked up and saw her sister regarding her and Alyssa far too intently. More tension grew in Cass. She released her niece. “It's not marked on this map,” she said.
“Hi ho,” Alyssa said, pointing through the side window. “What's that?”
Cass turned to look in the direction she was pointing, squinting. “What is it that you see, honey?” she asked.
“A building. I'll bet that's the castle where we're supposed to turn,” Alyssa cried excitedly.
Cass couldn't see anything, but she fervently hoped it was. “Let's go see,” she said with a smile.
Tracey returned to the car after grinding out the cigarette. Cass shifted into gear, while Tracey tried to find a radio station with decent reception, and failed. “Christ, I thought it would become cooler the farther north we went. Bloody stupid of me.”
Cass didn't reply as Alyssa cried out, “There, there, I told you!”
Cass finally saw the stone castle. “Thank God,” she said, accelerating. The two round towers and rotting walls were the exact same shade as the surrounding ground, and perched as it was on a higher bluff, and backlit by the high afternoon sun, she could have driven right by it without ever noticing it. “You have eagle eyes,” she told Alyssa, who was beaming with pride.
“Finally!” Tracey said excitedly. “Go left, Cass. We go left at the castle ruins.”
Cass obeyed. As they drove past the castle at a more sedate paceâthe last thing they needed now was a flat, for the road was rutted dirt and filled with stonesâshe craned her neck for a better view. “I have to date that,” she said, more to herself than anyone. “It could be fourteenth century.”
“Forget the castle, Cass. There it is, I see the house,” Tracey cried, relief in her tone.
Cass redirected her gaze and saw, rising up out of nowhere, high stone walls and iron gates. Not far from the gates, she could see a long, two-story stone house with a tiled roof, one end a square tower, with three other, smaller buildings beside it. A few tall trees graced the house, and wildflowers seemed to be blooming in the grassy, overgrown front yard. The land rolling away from the house was mostly flat and barren, but in the distance she could just make out the shadowy outlines of distant mountain peaks.
Cass stopped the car in front of the gates, which were closed. She jumped out, while Tracey waited in the car, and saw no sign of either a buzzer or intercom; worse, the property looked deserted. Cass was perplexed as she glanced around, wishing she saw either a car parked outside the house or some sign of human activity.
“What is it?” Tracey called from the car, rolling down her window.
Cass hesitatedâthe gates didn't seem to be locked. “I hope we're in the right place,” she said. And just as she was about to push them open, she heard an approaching vehicle.
Cass spun around, watching as an older-model Jeep raced up the road from the direction in which she had come. The dust-covered vehicle had no top, just a roll bar, and Cass had a perfect view of the driver. Immediately her mouth went dry, and the greeting she had secretly rehearsed escaped her mind.
The Jeep halted beside the Renault. Antonio was wearing dark sunglasses, but his gaze was clearly directed at her. Cass tried to relax, decided it was impossible, plastered a smile on her face, and strolled toward him as he climbed out of the Jeep. She was about to offer up a very casual greeting, when Tracey leapt from the Renault with a cry, flinging herself at him. Cass halted in her tracks.
She watched them embrace, then quickly turned away. She had already known that this weekend wasn't going to be easy. Not as far as her sister and Antonio were concerned. But she had refused to dwell on it. Now she felt the tension within her increasing. Damn.
“Surprise!” Tracey cried gaily.
He removed his sunglasses, and Cass turned back just in time to see the shock on his face. He hadn't been expecting them. Utter mortification filled her.
“What in God's name possessed you to come here?” he asked, his gaze swinging now to the car and its single remaining occupant.
“Isn't this a wonderful surprise?” Tracey said quickly, still smiling widely and pressing against him.
Cass wanted to throttle her sister until she gained some sense. How could she do this? She had no time to think things through, however, for Antonio had turned toward her. “Cassandra.” He smiled then, but briefly. “Forgive me. Forgive my lack of manners. I am not used to surprises such as this one.”
“I had no idea,” Cass said, remaining mortified.
He looked directly at her again. Cass knew her cheeks were heating. How could Tracey have such nerve even if he was her lover?
“Darling, life cannot always be planned,” Tracey said, but her smile was faltering, as if she had lost some of her self-confidence. Her blue eyes were wide, the picture of slightly wounded innocence. “You told me you would love to have Alyssa come visit, and look, she is here.
We've spent hours and hours trying to find this place! You are in the middle of nowhere! We are so hot, tired, dirty, and thirsty!”
We've spent hours and hours trying to find this place! You are in the middle of nowhere! We are so hot, tired, dirty, and thirsty!”
“Had we planned this holiday, I could have given you directions,” he said wryly. “What about the auction? You must have a tremendous amount to do.”
Cass wondered how Tracey would explain that.
“The stress was making it impossible for me to eat and sleep,” Tracey said quickly, smiling. “My physician advised me to let someone else handle the auction.”
Cass realized her mouth was hanging open and she shut it.
Then to Alyssa, Antonio said,
“Buenas tardes, señorita.
I am sorry that I was not prepared to greet you more properly. Come.
Vamos
aquÃ.”
“Buenas tardes, señorita.
I am sorry that I was not prepared to greet you more properly. Come.
Vamos
aquÃ.”
Alyssa was stepping from the car, and from her blush, Cass knew she felt awkward and uncomfortable, too. “I do hope we are not imposing.”
“You could never impose,
querida,”
Antonio replied with another smile, this one more genuine. Cass saw that he was recovering his composure.
querida,”
Antonio replied with another smile, this one more genuine. Cass saw that he was recovering his composure.
Alyssa smiled again.
“This will be the very best holiday, I promise everyone,” Tracey said seriously. She spoke to Antonio and Alyssa, clearly excluding Cass.
“I'll open the gates. It will be but a moment,” Antonio said.
Cass watched him stride away and push open the gates. He was wearing a faded blue polo shirt, at the throat of which she had glimpsed something gold, khaki shorts, heavy socks, and well-worn hiking boots. He might come from an old and noble Castilian family, but he didn't resemble a blue blood now. In fact, he didn't look like a professor of medieval history, either. A passerby might assume him to be the foreman of some farm or bodega, she decided, or even a mountain guide.
They all climbed back into the Renault. As Cass drove slowly after the Jeep, she could not restrain herself and she said, “How
could
you?”
could
you?”
Tracey faced her. “Don't you bloody pick on me!”
Cass gripped the wheel, hard. She forced down the retort that she so wanted to make and remained silent.
“Besides, he's my boyfriend and I know exactly what I'm doing.” Tracey said, a steely edge to her tone.
Cass shot her a glance. She was grim. There was no point in arguing; the deed was done. “You're right. You know him a lot better than I do,” she said. But she didn't really believe it. Antonio de la Barca was
not a simple man. Cass was quite certain there were many layers thereâand that her sister didn't have a clue.
not a simple man. Cass was quite certain there were many layers thereâand that her sister didn't have a clue.
Cass parked beside the Jeep in the shade of several trees, in front of the house. A headache had arisen out of nowhere. Their host was waiting for them, and he remained silent as he led them inside. Cass avoided his eyes, wishing she could act more naturally around him. While Tracey started oohing and aahing over how lovely the house was, how quaint and how very Spanish, Cass paused, instantly wondering where Isabel's portrait was.
Nothing will ever be fine again.
Cass refused to listen to her aunt's nonsense. She began to shiver. It was dim with shadows inside, and blessedly cool. She hugged herself, allowing her eyes to make the adjustment from the sun's blinding glare to the house's darkness. It took her a moment, while Alyssa slid her hand into the crook of her arm. Then she pressed close to Cass.
“Aunt Cass?” Alyssa whispered, sounding nervous.
Cass slid her arm around her, as she realized just how run-down the property was. They were in a large, stone-floored hall with extremely high ceilings, mostly devoid of furniture, the flagstones underfoot chipped and broken, the stuccoed walls coarse, timeworn, weather stained, and flaking. Cass glanced up at dozen swords hanging on the walls, along with a shield containing a coat of arms. There was also a wall-sized tapestry depicting a pastoral scene which was faded and torn but exquisite nonetheless.
Her pulse was pounding a bit now. But not exactly with excitement. She adored history in any shape or form, but oddly, she was filled with trepidation.
Cass grimaced. Of course she was anxious. Her aunt had done a number on her, apparently. And she and her sister were at odds, and the stakes were so terribly high. The stakes were Alyssaâand maybe even Antonio de la Barca.
Cass froze, unable to believe her last thought.
The stakes were Antonio de la Barca.
“Aunt Cass? Why is this house so cold and dark?” Alyssa whispered.
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