Man of Destiny (7 page)

And she wished he hadn’t made use of that expression ‘home.’ It made her feel restless, and even under the brilliant sunshine everything seemed a little futile.

CHAPTER SEVEN

DURING the next few days several people called upon her and Richard, and without exception they were pleasant and affable in their slightly unbending, Portuguese way. Although she was only an employee they didn’t condescend to her, and they made suggestions about dinner-parties and afternoon tea-parties, to which, they intimated, she would sooner or later receive invitations.

They spoke about the few English people there were in the district, and thought it would be nice for her to get to know them. They also brought presents for Richard, and praised him for being such a charming, well-behaved little boy.

The realisation began to sink in that they had been more than half afraid that, having an English mother, he would not be well-behaved. And the fact that he had an English governess could hardly have filled them with reassurance, either.

Amongst the visitors was Carmelita de Capuchos, who arrived without warning and stayed for less than twenty minutes, but during that twenty minutes she managed to convince Caroline that she, at least, was on excellent terms with Dom Vasco, and that anything that interested or concerned him interested and
concerned her, also.

At the moment Richard was a major concern
of
his, and therefore he had automatically become a major concern of hers. She was full of plans for a picnic into the surrounding sierra, and intimated
that she would fix a day and time. Then she departed, her dark eyes smiling as if she was very well aware that
she had gone halfway to fulfilling a duty, and left behind that exotic smell of violets that Caroline found cloying, although violets, as it happened, were her favourite flowers.

Il
se wrote again rather mysteriously.
Don’t be surprised at anything that happens! Give my love to Richard!

Richard received it without much enthusiasm.

“I thought she was going to get married,” he said, looking up at Caroline in faint perplexity. “She promised to send me a piece of wedding-cake!

“Did she?” The promise struck Caroline as in rather bad taste. “But I don’t think she is going to get married after all,” she explained. “At least, in her last letter she said that the marriage was
off.”

“Then that means I won’t have a stepfather after all?”

“Do you mind?” slipping an arm behind his shoulders and drawing him against her.

Richard shook his head.

“No, of course I don’t. I probably wouldn’t have seen much of him in any case,” philosophically. “And if I’ve got to have a stepfather I’d rather have someone—different.”

She looked down at him, startled.

“How do you mean
?
Different
?
”

Richard’s beautifully marked, slim black brows knitted themselves together. He shook his head, as if he was slightly surprised at himself.

“Well, my father wasn’t a very tall man, but he was kind—and he was dark. Like me
!”
He touched a lock of his dark hair. “Dom Vasco is dark like me.” Caroline felt even more startled.

“But I didn’t even know you liked Dom Vasco—” she was beginning, when a car driven at speed raced up the drive, and emerging from the arbour where
they had been reading poetry together they saw Dom Vasco leap out of a neat white coupe that he had been driving himself and stand for a moment in the white-hot sunshine on the drive, looking about him impatiently as if anxious to discover where they were.

When he saw them advancing towards him from the arbour, hand in hand, he quite obviously heaved a sigh of relief. He started to stride briskly to meet
them.

“Good morning, Senhorita Worth,” he called out clearly. “Good morning, Ricardo
!”
Then he delivered his bombshell. “The Marques de Fonteira is on his way here from Estoril, and he is bringing with him a guest.” His glance dwelt for a moment on Richard.

“
It is the boy’s mother. She flew out from England forty-eight hours ago, and will stay for a while in Portugal to be near her son.” A certain dryness invaded his tone as his eyes returned to Caroline,
and for several seconds they met and held her astounded sea-blue ones. “It would seem, after all,
that she is not to marry again. The Marques is very pleased about that, as he believes that a mother has prior claim to her child. Would you say,” still more drily, “that mother-love has triumphed after all?”

Caroline found it difficult to answer him, for, although she was surprised, the astonishment she might have felt was lessened by the fact that she had recently received two letters from Ilse, and in each of those letters she had professed the utmost concern for her son’s welfare. She had even, apparently, gone
so
far as to break off her engagement because the arrangement that deprived her of Richard had suddenly appeared to her as not quite satisfactory
...
Or had the glimpse she had obtained of Dom Vasco, when he collected the child on the ship, anything to do with it
?

“I suppose it’s quite
natural
...
that she should
disli
ke being parted from Richard,” she offered as explanation, but Dom Vasco was obviously not impressed, for his eyes remained cold and critical. “After all,” she added, “he
is
her only child.”

“He has been her only child for nearly seven years,
”
Dom Vasco remarked curtly. “From all I have gathered of the mother-and-son relationship it has not been precisely close in all those years. You yourself have looked after him for nearly four months now.”

“Well, he had to have someone to teach him first lessons, and things like that.” Caroline felt Richard
’
s small hand slip into hers, and she squeezed it convulsively. “Senhora de Fonteira hadn’t a great deal of time to devote to him. She had a very busy social life in Africa,” she defended her recent employer.

“And on the ship, apparently?” with the utmost
dryness.

“Mr. Robert Prentice was with her on the ship.
”

“Exactly
!”
he exclaimed, his voice like the crack of a contemptuous whip
.
He
turned away and stared at the front of the pink-washed house, that looked almost dreamlike in its dignity and beauty against the morning blue of the sky, and with the sunlight falling like a golden shower all about it. Then he turned back, and his tone was merely businesslike. “Well, I must interview the housekeeper, and we must make arrangements for the reception of the Marques and his guest. It is possible your rooms will have to be changed, Miss Worth. If the Marques
is remaining for any length of time he will probably prefer it if the nursery wing is opened and you and Ricardo are accommodated there.”

“Then there is a nursery wing here?” Caroline felt relief well over her, as well as a small degree of satisfaction. “I thought there must be, and it will be much better for Richard and me to be on our own, and our meals served separately, and that sort of thing.” She could have added that she personally would
prefer it, and the less she saw of the noble Marques and his lovely visitor during her stay in Portugal the better, but Dom Vasco’s eyes gleamed suddenly with a certain dry amusement, and he reminded her:

“I thought you were of the opinion the
senhora
disliked being separated from her child
!”

And then before she could say anything further he disappeared up the steps and into the
quinta,
and she could hear him calling imperiously for the housekeeper.

The next few hours were nothing if not hectic,
and although by noon the sun was high in the sky , and the enervating heat was making itself felt even beneath the spreading branches in the
quinta
garden, the uproar inside the house continued.

Apparently the Marques seldom visited the Quinta de Fonteira, and this unexpectedly announced intention of his to actually stay in the house for a period of possibly several weeks thre
w
everyone out of their normal routine, and in particular it threw Senhora Lopes into a most unusual flutter. She was responsible
for the careful maintenance of the house, and she had no wish for her employer to find things anything other than perfect. Although a speck of dust had been unknown to settle for longer than a few minutes on any piece of furniture, everything—that
is to say all the main furniture, in all the main rooms—was given a thorough going over, and the smell of beeswax began to fill the house, as well as the sounds of bustle.

The great dining-room was transformed. Masses more silver were brought out and arrayed on the giant sideboard and other side tables, and the drawing
room had its crystal chandeliers and mirrors freed from the protection of linen covers, and every piece of elegant furniture shone. Satin-backed chairs were arranged in less formal positions, and flowers were brought into the hall, but only into the hall. Caroline would have liked to offer to arrange flowers in the rooms, but Senhora Lopes didn’t look as if she would welcome any interference. She was a woman who made her own plans, and stuck to them, and disliked outside help or suggestions when she could do without them.

But Richard and Caroline did help to clear their own rooms, and since no one had much time to devote to the nursery wing they set about making it habitable for themselves. It had been unoccupied for a number of years, and although it was maintained in a state of vigorous cleanliness, and well aired, there was nothing particularly inviting about the old-fashioned furniture, and the bathroom was so old-fashioned that Caroline wondered whether it would stand up to the sudden demands that were to be made on it.

But the great attraction that the nursery wing had for her was the door that securely shut it off from the rest of the house. And it was at the end of a long corridor which further emphasised their seclusion.

Dom Vasco, who had been interviewing the head gardener, and making arrangements about fruit and vegetables for the house,
as well as inspecting every
corner
of the house after Senhora Lopes and her minions had finished with it, suddenly made his appearance in the corridor leading to the nursery wing, and when he passed through the door that was the symbol of their future isolation Caroline was sitting in an old rocking-chair of Portuguese oak with faded blue cushions in the schoolroom, rocking herself gently to and fro, and Richard was already giving his few possessions the kind of prominence he liked them to receive, and making the room look like a room that in future was to be inhabited by a child.

“Well, well!” Dom Vasco came to a pause in the doorway, and before Caroline stood up hastily and
confronted him demurely he had time to observe how attractive was the picture she made in the old-fashioned rocking-chair, with her blue dress matching the cushions, and her golden hair imprisoning the sunlight as her shapely head lay relaxed against one of them. “So this is where you are to hide yourselves away in future! Well, Senhora de Fonteira may
agree ... but the Marques will certainly want to see something
o
f his great-nephew occasionally
!”

The boy ceased piling books o
n
a side table and went and stood close to Caroline’s knee, one hand reaching out instinctively to clutch at her.

Dom Vasco’s eyes glinted strangely.

“I wonder how your mama will approve such continued devotion?” he enquired whimsically of the
definitely depressing furnishings, and then walked round and inspected them with an eagle eye. “You
will need many new things for this room,” he observed at the end of it. “And the bedrooms? Are they as inadequately prepared for you as this room?” Caroline accompanied him into one of them, and
he nodded his head. When he saw the second bedroom, which was to be hers, he actually frowned. When he saw the bathroom he scowled.

“Much will have to be done,” he remarked. “I must make a note of it,” and he made several hurriedly scribbled notes in his notebook. Then she found his dark eyes smiling quizzically into hers. “It is a misfortune of the house that so fe
w
children have occupied it,” he observed. “If the Marques had had a family these rooms might not appear so neglected.”

“Perhaps one day—perhaps the
Marques
...
There will be children,” she heard herself say a little awkwardly
.

His smiling dark glance passed over her and lighted upon Richard.

“Perhaps,” he agreed carelessly, gently ruffling the boy’s hair. “Who knows? I have said that the
Marques
will one day marry again
!”

For a brief fraction of time Caroline found herself working out the true relationship that would exist between an uncle and his niece by marriage should her beauty tempt him into considering matrimony for the second time, and then she dismissed the idea as somehow vaguely unpleasant. The Marques de Fonteira was no longer a young man, even if he wasn’t old, and
Il
se was
s
till young and very, very beautiful. She would make a magnificent marchioness,
but...

“Forget the idea,” Dom Vasco advised, still meeting her eyes with that inscrutable smile in his, and obviously following the train of her thoughts very easily. “It is quite impracticable. Besides—”

“Besides what?” she enquired, as he appeared to be considering something that had suddenly struck him.

“Ricardo might be deprived of his rights if the
Marques married again,” Vasco said. “We couldn’t have that, could we, Ricardo?” tip-tilting his
c
hin
with a very lean, brown finger.

Richard stared back at him with blank brown eyes, and Dom Vasco sighed, quite unexpectedly.

“You are a pretty boy, Ricardo,” he told him, “and one day, no doubt, you will make a personable man. But who knows—who knows what is ahead of you
?
”

“We none of us know what is ahead of us,” Caroline said quickly, grasping Richard’s hand protectively, and the Portuguese smiled again. This time without reservation.

“For you,
senhorita,
we can easily predict what is ahead,” he declared.
“Marriage
...
Marriage is obviously the Big Thing on the horizon, and as a result, perhaps, a little one like—Ricardo?” He glanced from the boy to the fair-haired girl, and although his lips remained quirked upwards at the
corner
s in a slightly unreadable smile his eyes were suddenly very still and dark and mystifying. “Although, as you will almost certainly marry an Anglo-Saxon, it is most unlikely that he will be as dark as Richard,” he concluded with sudden curtness, and walked away.

Caroline followed him to the door, and there he took his leave of them. He was formal all at once, excessively businesslike.

“There are many things still to be done,” he declared, “for the reception of the Marques, and little time left to do them in. He will be here about six o’clock, and after such a journey he will wish to rest. But I have arranged a dinner-party for this evening, and my cousin Carmelita will act the part of hostess. She has done so many times for Duarte, although
she is unmarried, and it is unusual for an unmarried lady to act the part of hostess in Portugal. However, as everyone knows that she—”

‘Will one day be married to you,’ she thought, as she gazed up at him as if the compulsion in his eyes made it impossible for her to do anything else, and was surprised when he concluded instead:

“Is an extraordinarily capable young woman, accustomed to every aspect of running a house, and entirely to be depended upon, it is not such an unconventional departure. And Senhora de Fonteira is to be a guest, and she will in any case be too tired after the journey and her recent flight from London to be regarded as anything other
th
an a guest. So,
senhorita,
anything you can do to be of assistance to Senhorita de Capuchos and to Senhora Lopes will be of value,” he assured her.

“Of course,
senhor
,” she returned. “I will do any
thing
I can.”

“Including keeping Richard out of the way when the cars appear in the drive
?
” He shook a long, brown
forefinger at her. “That,
senhorita
, is something you must not do! You are to be in evidence—you understand—when the Marqu
e
s and his guests arrive. And I forgot to make it
cl
ear that there will be othe
r
s, apart from Senhora de Fonteira. You are to be in
evidence
...
in the hall! Wearing something that will make you look very English,” he added, with a most peculiar dryness.

“But,” she objected, “I don’t understand,
senhor
!
Surely...
?
”

He shook a sleek dark head at her.

“
You have your instructions, Miss Worth! I fe
el
sure it is unnecessary for me to repeat them.” But he was
smiling
oddly as he at last strode away dow
n
the corridor.
“
Au revoir,
Miss Caroline!” And hearing her Christian name on his lips made her start, and feel a little foolish, in addition to feeling surprised because the name sounded different, some
how ...
infinitely more attractive. She caught an amused flash in his dark eyes. “Remember! Not hiding away in the nursery, but
in evidence
in the hall
!
”