Indiscretion (45 page)

Agustina's fears seemed somewhat exaggerated to Alexandra, if not totally unfounded. Such strange beliefs were not unheard of among uneducated people, she told herself; they were an important element of the colour and character of a place. She was sure that many parts of her own country teemed with stories like this but they were just that: stories and superstitions passed from one generation to the next.

Yet Alexandra remembered only too vividly how fearful she had been during the wake of Marujita's child; how there had been a sense of some mysterious, powerful force at work that night. If Agustina had told her about those bizarre rites, even describing them in minute detail, would Alexandra have believed her without seeing them for herself? It was a world that had penetrated Salvador's fears, and on no account could she label him an ignorant, uneducated man.

Alexandra closed her eyes and lay back against the cushions on her bed. Perhaps she would have to acknowledge that these weren't fictitious barriers separating them but real and serious obstacles; dangers she had ignored because they'd seemed so alien to her own way of life. Maybe she was the naïve fool after all. Anyhow, there was precious little she could do.

At last she opened her eyes. ‘What should I do, Agustina?'

‘You must go away,
dejar
, leave,' replied the older woman. ‘I hoped things would be settled here without you having to take such a difficult decision but, at the moment, going away is the only solution.'

‘My leaving seems to be causing my grandmother so much grief.'

‘At this time Her Grace is like a traveller who, after a long hike in the desert, finally reaches the river, only to discover she's forbidden to drink. You are this river and your tenderness is the clear water your grandmother needs to quench her thirst. In her family, other than you, the only one to feel a deep and genuine affection for Her Grace is Don Salvador. Most of the others are parasites, living at her expense; or worse still, they're like vultures waiting for the moment to swoop down on their prey.'

As she considered the
Duquesa
again, Alexandra's heart ached for her. She might play the despotic matriarch with her family but she had opened her house, and her arms, to Alexandra.

‘Poor
Abuela
,' she whispered.

‘Her dearest wish is to see you marry Don Salvador.'

Alexandra looked up in astonishment. ‘Is she not aware of the dangers you've just spoken about?'

‘Oh, she knows them well enough but
la gente está en contra de la razón cuando la razón está en contra de ellos
, people are always against reason when reason is against them.'

A deep sound vibrated through the silence of the sleeping hacienda. ‘What was that?' Alexandra asked, her nerves once more on edge.

‘Just the old clock in the hall,' Agustina reassured her. ‘It's already one o'clock in the morning. You have difficult days and a long journey ahead, so you'll need all the rest you can get.'

Alexandra smiled gratefully. ‘I don't know what I'd have done without you, dear Agustina. You've always been there for me whenever I've felt down.'

Colour spread over the
duenna's
plump cheeks. She patted Alexandra's hand fondly. ‘Get some rest now,
niña
,' she said as she bent down to switch off the bedside lamp. ‘And
que sueñes con los angelitos
, dream with the angels.'

And with that, silently, the old servant left the room.

A
lexandra was gazing out of the window at the snowy, tapering peaks of the Sierras that stood, colossal and immutable, a white silhouette against a sky of shimmering blue. The great mountain range, slashed with sun and shadow as if waiting for Judgement Day, had exerted a strange fascination over her these past few weeks while she'd been staying at the Hacienda Hernandez; it seemed to her that the appearance of its arid slopes changed with every nuance of light or wisp of cloud.

What was she doing here? What was she hoping for? Alexandra had asked herself the same questions ever since her arrival a month ago. She had made the trip to Granada on impulse, but as time went by, a thousand little things indicated she was becoming increasingly embroiled in a situation from which she would undoubtedly have the greatest difficulty extricating herself. And yet, she had stayed …

When leaving El Pavón, she had decided against taking the train on her own, accepting instead Ramón's offer to accompany her to Gibraltar, where she was to board the ship back to Southampton. She could always explore more of Spain when she returned in the future, she told herself. Besides, she could tell that her cousin was going to miss her a great deal once she'd left and that he would welcome this last chance to spend time with her on the train.

She had asked Ramón to drop her off at the entrance to the waiting hall. ‘I hate goodbyes,' she told him firmly. ‘It was bad enough at El Pavón. I really can't go through all that again.' She laid a gentle hand on his arm.‘I'll be back sooner than you think. Besides, it would
be better for you to catch that last train to Jerez tonight.' Ramón had finally given up insisting he wait with her, and left. It was only after having said goodbye to him that Alexandra had been informed her ship was delayed and she would have to wait ten days before she could embark. She tried to find another passage, but the only vessel with appropriate accommodation was already fully booked.

For a fleeting moment she had been tempted to return to El Pavón and put up with Mercedes' cruel mockery and Doña Eugenia's gratuitous spite, to brave Agustina's sinister predictions and Salvador's bitter reproaches but she was weary of these people she had never been able to understand, of disappointing the ones she loved and struggling to hang on to a fleeting happiness that promised no future.

Faced with a thorny situation, her English blood soon took over and, pulling herself together, she threw her shoulders back.
Buck up, old girl, don't be such a wimp
, she told herself.
This isn't the end of the world
. And it wasn't long before she had a plan: the couple who had been her travelling companions during the crossing to Spain earlier that year lived here in Gibraltar. She had their address to hand; she'd look them up. In the two letters they had exchanged during her time in Spain, they'd impressed upon her how much they would like to welcome her at their house. So why not? Anyhow, the temptation of staying a little longer in Spain was overwhelming. If she were able to stay with them, she could plan a whole month's tour of the country at her leisure. However, she was making her way out of the shipping office when a firm hand on her shoulder stopped her.

‘What on earth …?' she spun round with a jolt. Her eyes widened in surprise when she realized that it was Don Felipe. She'd not seen him since the night of the fight, and was relieved to note that he seemed to have recovered remarkably well from his injuries.

‘Doña Alexandra, what a marvellous coincidence meeting you here,' he said, a dazzling smile lighting up his face. ‘I didn't expect to see you again so soon. Doesn't fate work wonders?'

‘Indeed.' She blushed a little and gave the
torero
a warm smile in return. It was so comforting to meet a familiar face that she wanted to hug him in her relief. She had almost forgotten how handsome he was.

‘What are you doing in Gibraltar?'

‘I came to say goodbye to a friend before starting out for Granada,' he explained.

Alexandra filled him in about her postponed journey and her intention to look up her friends.

‘I know Gibraltar well,' he said. ‘This address is quite far away, on the other side of the city. My car's waiting outside. It would be a pleasure to give you a lift. We could have lunch on the way and get there after the siesta, if you like.'

They had reached her friends' house in the early evening, only to be told by the housekeeper that the couple were away for a fortnight. This was turning into a nightmare. Tired and disappointed, Alexandra was beginning to wonder if she hadn't made a serious mistake in leaving El Pavón after all. Her mind rapidly cast about for a solution. At that late hour the tourist office would be closed. She was on the verge of asking Don Felipe whether he could advise on a suitable
parador
when he turned to her with his usual charming smile.

‘What a happy twist of fate, Doña Alexandra, here's your opportunity to visit Granada. My invitation still stands, of course. Please, do come and stay with us.' His dark eyes seemed to hold nothing but innocent concern.

Her initial reaction had been to refuse, on the pretext that it would not be seemly for her to stay at his family's hacienda, even with Doña Isabel there; but she hadn't counted on the young bullfighter's ingenuity and determination.

‘That poses no problem,' Don Felipe argued. ‘You can stay with an old friend of my mother:
mi madrina
, my godmother. She lives in the property adjoining ours.' Just as Alexandra opened her mouth to speak, he continued, sweeping her up on his tide of enthusiasm, ‘Even better, you can meet her then decide. You'll get on famously,
believe me. She's here in Gibraltar, staying at her townhouse. We will stay there tonight before travelling back with her tomorrow,' he declared.

‘But Felipe, I can't possibly …'

‘Doña Inés lost her husband a few years ago and lives alone in her large hacienda,' he went on regardless, gazing at her earnestly. ‘Her three sons are now married and have moved away. She's often complained of loneliness. I know she'll be delighted to have your company, as will I.'

Alexandra hadn't taken long before she gave in, secretly relieved she would neither have to face the mortification of going back to El Pavón, nor spend time alone in a strange city. She had begun to realize that, as a foreigner, the experience of Spain could be daunting without the support of friends. At the time, she had justified her decision by telling herself that this strange concurrence of circumstances would give her a heaven-sent opportunity to gather more material for her book. Happily, she hadn't warned Aunt Geraldine of her imminent return so there would be no need to explain the delay or worry her about the plan. Besides, what was there to explain? Was there really anything unseemly in staying with Don Felipe's godmother?

‘So you say your godmother lives alone?' Alexandra asked him once he had swung her bags into the back of his bright-red Pegaso Z sports car and slipped in beside her.

‘Yes, her husband left her penniless. Don Ignacio Hernandez's company went bankrupt just before he died, a series of bad investments. Poor woman. Of course, I couldn't leave her to fend for herself.' He gave Alexandra a debonair flash of his straight white teeth as they sped out of the port. ‘I bought her a comfortable house bordering ours in Granada, a modest townhouse here, and set her up with a small allowance.'

‘That's incredibly thoughtful of you.' Her amazement at the generosity of this gesture was coupled with the reflection that her family had definitely got him wrong. But then a fleeting, less
charitable, thought crossed her mind: was it really fair to discuss his godmother's financial situation with outsiders? Surely it warranted a certain discretion on his part?

He waved aside her compliment. ‘Oh, it's nothing, I assure you.' Then he paused, before adding, ‘I'm very fond of my godmother. She's always been a calming presence.'

Alexandra found herself wondering at Don Felipe's choice of words as they zoomed along the coastal road and into the main town of Gibraltar.

Doña Inés Hernandez was a handsome, middle-aged lady of medium height with a tendency to plumpness. In her youth she must have been a real beauty, as testified by the rare clarity of her complexion, her regular features scarcely touched by time, and the doe-like expression of her soft brown eyes. Her thick and lustrous black hair, strewn with occasional silver threads, was drawn back into a large bun at the nape of her neck.

She had greeted Alexandra at her elegant home with a twinkling, kindly smile. ‘I'm delighted to meet you, Doña Alexandra. My godson has told me so much about you. I do hope you'll agree to honour me with your company in Granada. Felipe tells me you're a writer?'

‘Yes,' replied Alexandra, instantly warming to her. ‘In fact, my next book is set in your beautiful country.'

‘How wonderful!' Doña Inés took her arm and gave her hand a squeeze. ‘That's settled then. You can spend as much time as you like writing at the hacienda and I'll leave you in peace, unless you say you'd like company. Isabel won't be around, she's decided to go away to her cousin in Cádiz until Felipe's next
corrida
. So it will be just you and me. I'm certainly happy to act as a chaperone when Felipe is there,' she added, giving Alexandra a reassuring look. ‘It'll be so enjoyable to have a young person around the house.'

The Hacienda Hernandez stood at the top of a hill, behind high walls and huge gates, in a courtyard shaded by the foliage of rare trees. A much smaller domain than El Pavón, its dusky garden was filled with colourful flowerbeds and herbaceous borders, and a
picturesque arcade fronted the house, its elegant arches covered in red bougainvillea. Along the several paths that converged on the house stood huge terracotta basins planted with petunias, which spilt over the edges in riotous profusion. Behind them, ancient olive trees stood with twisted trunks and bewitched-looking branches bent to impossible angles.

The walls of the house were whitewashed, smothered under a cascade of climbing roses. Deep-set windows and the central courtyard, whose wrought-iron gates were thrown wide, appeared to welcome their guest with open arms. Inside, the high ceilings and beautiful coloured-marble flagstone floors lent an atmosphere of cathedral calm to the place that seemed to mirror the character of Alexandra's hostess. It was all so different from the stuffy, severe atmosphere of El Pavón.

Although Hacienda Hernandez was less grand than the de Falla estate, it was so much more inviting; this house spoke to Alexandra, took her into its bosom, something the family home in Jerez had never done. Her bedroom was large and airy, the bed itself comfortable. Like a caress, a light breeze scented with garden flowers and vine leaves moved about the property all day.

Doña Inés had welcomed Alexandra with a kindness and hospitality that never ceased to amaze the young woman, especially after her unfortunate experience with some of the members of her own family. Since she flatly refused any payment for her generosity, and didn't seem to need any help in the house, Alexandra often brought back tokens of her appreciation and gratitude: flowers from her walks in the countryside, little delicacies, small presents of silverware or other amusing trinkets she discovered on her exploration of the various markets in local towns she visited in the small car she had insisted on hiring. She was now glad that Uncle Howard had taught her to drive on the estate at Grantley Hall; she revelled in the independence it had given her.

Alexandra's thoughtful gifts and tales of her explorations delighted her hostess and she and Doña Inés soon became friends, spending
long hours, in the evenings after dinner, talking without either one encroaching on the private life of the other.

Don Felipe spent most of his time visiting his
ganaderia
, the cattle ranch where many of the bulls were bred for the ring, or meeting
aficionados
and others involved with bullfighting. He was preparing for an important
corrida
less than a week away. Most afternoons, after the siesta, he saw Alexandra. Together they visited the stunning palace of the Alhambra and the beautiful Moorish gardens of the Palacio de Generalife, among other sights.

One afternoon, at the Hall of the Abencerrages, Don Felipe turned to her, saying: ‘Do you know from what the name derives?' When she shook her head, marvelling at the exquisite vaulted roof decorated in glittering blues, reds, browns and golds, he continued: ‘A tragic legend. Thirty-six members of the noble Abencerrage family were invited for a banquet by the Sultan Abu al-Hassan. The sultan wanted revenge after finding out that Amet, the chief member of the Abencerrage family, was courting his favourite concubine, Zoraya.'

‘I can see this is going to end badly,' Alexandra quipped, glancing at him, but Don Felipe was gazing off into the distance.

‘During the banquet, he had his guards come into the intricately carved hall and cut the throats of every member of the family. Afterwards, the victims' heads were thrown into the fountains. Legend has it that the stain, just visible at the bottom, is their blood. An indelible reminder of the massacre.'

‘That's truly horrible!'

His eyes glittered. ‘
Sí, sí
, Doña Alexandra, truly horrible, but she was his
Gözde
, his favourite. Besides, a sultan's harem is a symbol of his authority. It was a different time, another era.' Don Felipe shrugged. ‘Though what man wouldn't go to extreme lengths to protect what is his?'

Alexandra looked at him blankly for a moment and then gave an incredulous laugh. ‘Thank goodness women don't have to live in the dark ages any more! But, surely, barbarity is barbarity, no matter
what the era. As human beings, we should have an inbuilt abhorrence of cold-blooded violence. Isn't that what separates us from animals?'