Man of Destiny (13 page)
Authors: Rose Burghley
And although she wondered what he meant by “better plans
”
it didn’t seem to matter very much, for he was holding out his hand to her, and suddenly, to her astonishment, he was actually apologising to
her in a warm, deep, anxious voice that rang like a carillon of bells in her ears.
“Am I forgiven, Caroline? I know I had no right to speak to you as I did this morning, and I had no right to speak to you so sharply last night
... But you provoked me,” with a whimsical smile on his
li
ps that was most attractive. “You really did provoke me!”
“I’m sorry,” she answered, and she didn’t bother to ask how, or why, she had provoked him, because his fingers were gripping hers very closely, and all sorts of electric currents were running up and down her arm as a result of their linked hands. There was one moment when she was certain he was experiencing some difficulty in letting her hand go; and then he dropped it as if it had started to bu
rn
him, and turned away from her abruptly.
“We will see how things work out,” he remarked. “And Carmelita can go ahead with her schemes to make the nursery more habitable.”
For the next few days a kind of amnesty seemed to have been signed between them, and he went out of his way to be quite charming to her whenever they met. But, although she joined the Marques and Ilse for meals when they were alone, when guests were invited she resolutely declined to add to the numbers, and arranged for herself and Richard to have their meals served to them upstairs in the despised nursery wing.
This happened several times when Dom Vasco and Carmelita arrived to lunch, and on one occasion to dinner
... And afterwards Dom Vasco sought her out and demanded, with a black frown linking his brows as if he was seriously annoyed, why this new arrangement was becoming a kind of habit.
She looked him leve
ll
y in the eyes, and replied quietly.
“I think it is best,
senhor.
You must realise that I am
not
a guest here, and I feel happier having meals alone with Richard in the nursery. It is entirely different if the
senhora
and the
Marques
are alone, and as you yourself once pointed out to me I am quite unfamiliar with the people who visit here, and I do not know their circumstances. Unwittingly I might have got Senhor Rambozi into disfavour with the young woman you all expect him to marry...”
“
Touch
é
!” he exclaimed drily. “I asked for that. But, believe me, I will not allow this state of things to continue.” He seemed to bite rather hard at his lower lip. “For you it is unsuitable, and for me—well, we will leave it!” and he walked away from her.
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
ALMOST daily, however, he arrived at the
quinta
to take Ilse for drives, and as the
Marques
preferred sitting in the garden or his library to scouring the countryside the arrangement seemed to strike him as a happy one. Whether or not it struck Carmelita as a happy one Caroline was unable to tell, but it so often happened that there was no one apart from the Marques to receive her when she arrived at the
quinta
,
that she must have begun to realise that a great deal of Dom Vasco’s time was being devoted to the beautiful English widow.
Ilse, Caroline could tell, was becoming more and more sure that she would never have to leave Portugal, and that Dom Vasco was the reason why. She boasted to Caroline of his attentiveness, the amount of consideration he showed her, and it never apparently worried her in the least that Carmelita might be expecting him to marry her one day.
According to
Il
se’s codes all was fair in love and war, and she admitted quite frankly to Caroline that she had fallen in love with the dark, distinguished Portuguese, who was so unlike her first husband, although he, too, had been a Portuguese.
“But Carlos gave way to me all the time, and Vasco I know, would not,” she confessed to Caroline. “He could be a little cruel, but not to the woman he loved
... that much I do know,” with a vaguely
r
eminisc
ent
smile. “He has strange, old-fashioned ideas about women, and he would be possessive-dominating! But a husband who would dominate and adore at the same time would be quite something, wouldn’t he?” turning glistening green eyes on Caroline. “I give you my word, my dear, that it is only a question of time before he proposes to me.” Caroline, who was tidying one of her drawers for her, felt suddenly sick.
“You are so sure
?
” she said.
“As sure as a woman can be when a man insists on behaving like a perfect gentleman every time he takes her out. But I go by the signs
... the fact that he
does
take me out almost daily, that he is obsessed with Richard’s future, and talks about it constan
tl
y; that he is unmarried and badly needs a wife
... That much he admitted to
me
! That his home lacks feminine touches, and he asked me to advise him on certain alterations, including a lot of refurnishing, that he hopes to carry out before the wine-harvest. After the wine-harvest he is going away... I feel reasonably certain on a honeymoon
!”
Caroline felt as if someone had given her an unexpected blow that had left her stunned.
“And when I told him that I thought a honeymoon should be a long, leisurely affair, not just a snatched couple of weeks, he agreed with me. He even consulted me as to the ideal spot for a honeymoon.”
“And he agreed about that, too?” came faintly from Caroline, as she rescued a diamond brooch from the clutches of a chiffon scarf.
“Yes, darling; he agreed about that, too. Wonderful, isn’t it?” and Ilse sounded like a cat that had lapped up several saucers of cream. Her green eyes gleamed like a contented cat’s. “What a pity you can’t find some nice man and marry, sweetie,” she said, as she started making up her face for lunch. “If you stay on and look after Richard when I’m married I’ll find you someone
... I promise!”
But the promise didn’t merely revolt Caroline; it made her wonder how soon she ought to insist on being allowed
to go home to England. It was now the middle of August, and if Dom Vasco was planning to marry before the wine-harvest...
!
She made up her mind that she would have a word with the Marques at the next opportunity. Surely he would understand that she
had
to go? That if she stayed...
Oh, no, she couldn’t possibly stay
...
not now! Not after her conversation with Ilse! And her hands shook as she washed Richard’s face, and combed his hair for lunch. Inwardly she felt as if she wanted to weep.
And yet what was there to weep over? Dom Vasco had never given her a crumb of encouragement, and in the beginning he had hardly noticed her. The fact that once or twice some curious electric disturbance had seemed to happen in the atmosphere between them meant nothing—nothing at all!
She had merely allowed her imagination to work overtime. In future it would be severely restricted and curbed.
Ilse was triumphant when Dom Vasco announced that he was giving a dinner-party for her. It was to be at his house, and the arrangements were quite lavish. A very large number of people were invited.
Caroline received an invitation from Dom Vasco himself. Not that it was really an invitation. He merely said curtly to her, when he saw her, that he expected she would make an arrangement with one of the maids to keep an eye on Richa
r
d—Just in case
anything should go wrong with him at night—while she paid her first social visit to his house. Caroline answered at once that it was not part of her job to entrust Richard to anyone else, and despite the fact that he appeared to become quite annoyed with her she insisted on sticking to her refusal.
“But this is absurd,” he declared angrily. “You cannot remain shut up here in the nursery wing for ever!”
“I don’t intend to do so, Dom Vasco,” she assured him calmly. “I shall be going home to England before long!”
“You will—what?”
“I shall be going home to England before very long.”
He grasped her wrist. For the first time she felt his long fingers actually bruising her wrist, and his voice sounded thick with a strange sort of emotion as he spoke to her.
“There is someone in England you can’t wait to see?” he suggested, the words sounding like drips of ice.
“Perhaps,” she agreed.
“And yet,” he reminded her, that strange thickness at the back of the coldness in his voice, “not very long ago you told me that you had few friends in England. And certainly not one of any importance!”
“That was some time ago,” she replied, and the casual indifference of her tone bereft him of the power to say anything more. He turned away.
“Very well,” he said, as if the matter had ceased to be of any importance to him. She was an obstinate young woman whom he had wished to include amongst his guests, and she had refused ... and that was enough
!”
Make yourself as useful to Senhora de
Fonteira as you can during the remainder of your stay here,” he requested. “I was hoping that you might have been an excellent companion for her, but apparently you have other plans. Good morning,
senhorita
!”
Caroline leaned against the nursery door when he had gone, feeling the need of support. Her affaire had been finally shipwrecked
... they were floating like flotsam on the dreary ocean that represented the whole of her future life.
He had wanted to keep her in Portugal because she would have made a useful little companion for Ilse! Someone who spoke English to whom Ilse could unburden herself occasionally, and who would, of course, be useful with Richard! And because she had refused he had been furious!
She had never seen such coldly resentful eyes.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CAROLINE had been asleep for some
tim
e
when some unaccountable sound awoke her.
She had been dreaming, and her dreams were peculiarly
vivid ...
perhaps because she had found it difficult to get to sleep, and her senses had been over-stimulated.
She had watched Ilse get ready for Dom Vasco’s dinner-party, and later she had watched her departure, on the arm of the Marques, for Dom Vasco’s house. It was not far away, and the night was particularly fine and warm—sensuously warm, with great stars wheeling in the sky above them, and a lovely lemon light low down on the horizon where the sun had disappeared—but Ilse had wanted a wrap in case the temperature dropped suddenly, and Caroline had been sent speeding back into the house to fetch it.
When she returned the Marques had looked at her regretfully.
“Are you sure we can’t persuade you to come with us after all, Miss Worth
?
” he had said in his pleasant, kindly voice. “It doesn’t seem quite right leaving a young woman of your age behind, and Dom Vasco’s house is very unusual. I’m sure he would show you over it, and be delighted to hear you admire all its unique features, if you would change your mind and accompany us after all.”
A
nd there was a queer note of insistence in his voice which surprised Caroline, and she thought about afterwards, because it was almost as if he understood perfectly how she was feeling and sympathised with her. There was even a certain amount of actual sympathy in his handsome hazel-grey eyes.
But Ilse spoke with a note of sharpness from inside the car, reminding him that Miss Worth had already declined an invitation, and Dom Vasco’s arrangements would almost certainly be upset by her last-minute inclusion. So the elderly Portuguese nobleman got into the car regretfully, but before they drove away Caroline, who was still standing on the drive, received a smile of extraordinary sweetness from him. And a wave of the hand.
Ilse lay back against the seat and smiled at the Marqu
e
s, one of her green-eyed, red-lipped, very feminine smiles. She was not prepared to waste such a smile on a mere nursery-gove
rn
ess.
Caroline went back into the house and up to Richard’s room, to make certain he was asleep. His room was now in the same corridor as his mother’s suite, and fairly far removed from the nursery wing. Caroline missed having him near her, but she realised that the nursery wing was not really fit for him, and the washing arrangements were certainly not ideal for the heir to a marquisate. But for herself, they were quite adequate. She was sure Ilse thought they were more than adequate, and Dom Vasco knew now that she would be going home to England very soon, so he wouldn’t bother to press Carmelita to go ahead with her improvements. Or he needn’t bother. She would make that more
cl
ear to him when she saw him again.
But why had he been so furiously angry with, her when she refused his invitation to help swell the numbers at his dinner-party? And he had been angry. There was nothing assumed about that glittering,
black-eyed wrath. And when he flung away and left her she had felt as if he had slammed a door in her face.