The Flesh and the Devil (19 page)

         
A sudden hideous suspicion darted into Juana‘s mind. ‗Who
is this – this love of yours, Michaela?‘ Her voice was not quite steady. ‗Tell
me his name.‘ She waited, and it came.

         
‗The
pellirojo
, Senor Felipe.‘

         
A knock on the door broke the ensuing silence, and as
Michaela turned away to answer it Juana crossed her arms over her breast as
though she felt suddenly chilled. Even though she had half-expected it, the
name struck at her like a probe dug heedlessly in to raw flesh, and she was
still aching with the shock of it when Michaela came back, her brown eyes wide.

         
The Condesa de Araciel is here, with Dona Maria Lucientes
and half a dozen more! They say they have been requested by Senor de Castaneda
to attend on you, as befits your new position.‘

         
For a moment Juana flinched. It was almost as if de
Castaneda knew, she thought; but this could only be one more example of his
refusal to accept any denial of hers. It would betray her if she were accept
this honor too suddenly – he, too, might ask what had changed her mind, and she
would rather die than tell him.

         
Stiffly, she said, ‗I need no other attendants while
I have Tia. Tell them so.‘

         
Michaela obeyed with an impudent tilt to her head which
showed that she would relish giving such proud would such an answer, but a
moment later she was back again.

         
‗They say that your aunt has been sent back to
Zuccaro for encouraging you to refuse the Duque‘s hand, contrary to your
father‘s will. They say they have been chosen as fitter companions for your
greatness.‘

         
‗For encouraging me?‘ White to the lips, Juana sprang
out of bed, hardly noticing the pain of the sharp movement. ‗I do not
believe it – call Tia, call her!

         
And send those women away.‘ There was a haunted look in her
eyes for an instant. ‗If it proves true, I shall require to see Senor de
Castaneda – hurry, and learn where he is.‘

         
Eugenio de Castaneda had woken early that morning and was
hurrying from his perfunctory attendance at morning Mass when he came upon
Juana in the long gallery. She looked very small and insubstantial against its
sky-soaring domes and vaulted ceiling; her reflection in the gleaming floor
looked as solid as she did in her whispering smoke-grey gown. Then as he drew
closer he saw the pallor of her pointed face, the hugely dilated eyes and
crimsoned mouth, and his own eyes narrowed in sharpening attention.

         
‗How now, Senorita Juana, you are on foot early! Did
you ride the nightmare last night?‘

         
She winced but paid no heed to the question, only saying, ‗I
came to seek you, senor.‘

         
‗To seek me? And what is important that you wander
the Castillo unattended?‘

         
‗It seems I must, since I learn that my aunt was sent
back to Zuccaro last night – dismissed, I am told, without my leave or
knowledge, or even the opportunity to bid her farewell. I came to you to find
out why.‘

         
De Castaneda gave a little concerned cluck. ‗My dear
senorita, you are fevered – you have had a sleepless night, and you take things
will without cause. You cannot begin to understand-

         
‗I understand enough to know that my aunt has been
sent away without cause. What explanation have you, senor?‘

         
‗You concern yourself too far with matters beyond
your compass.‘ De Castaneda‘s gaze had hardened, though his lips still smiled
ingratiatingly. ‗Your aunt was an influence that I do not desire to see
about you, and I have written to tell your father as much. She would have
fostered undutiful thoughts in you if she had stayed; she might even have sent
lies to your father that would do nothing but cause him needless distress.
Until you are married-‘ he was watching her, waiting for her to protest, and
when she did not he continued smoothly – ‗the ladies I have designated
will bear you company, and my wife will act as your duena. Your aunt‘s presence
is no longer needful.

         
‗And you learned in time that she cared what becomes
of me, did you not?

         
That she would rather have me happy than married to your
noble nephew?‘ The furious demand seemed to burst from Juana in spite of
herself. ‗I was not helpless enough before to satisfy you, but now I
shall serve your turn, now that I have no one to help me. But you might have
saved your labor,‘ she added with a sudden flash of scorn. ‗I shall
scarcely tell her how I was brought to change my mind and give consent. I could
not bring my tongue to it.‘

         
For a moment de Castaneda stared at her in silence, and
then his eyes widened and he began to laugh. His thickset body was shaking as
he gasped,

         
‗Have you so changed it? But it was no such matter, I
promise you! I sent her away because of what she had written to your father.
Never trust to the strength of wax, senorita; the dullest knife is stronger.‘
He sobered a little, still chuckling under his breath. ‗She wrote him
some tale of deceit and concealment-even of forcing a maid into marriage, yet I
could swear on the Cross that I am doing no such thing.‘ His fingertips brushed
the faint bruises on her cheek, his thumb resting briefly on her lower lip. ‗Am
I, Senorita Juana?‘

         
She shook her head in a slight, hunted motion that might
have been denial or an evasion of the caress, and he chuckled knowingly.

         
And, of course, a lady who waves such fables is no fit
companion for the next Duquesa de Valenzuela! Soon you will be too proud to
remember you knew such lowly people….when you are Bartolomé‘s wife, mm?‘

         
‗How long?‘

         
The question came rigidly, and de Castaneda noticed
approvingly that she had not risen to his taunt; all the childish temper seemed
to have been burned out of her this morning. A pity he could not have trusted
himself, he thought fleetingly. But when a man had had two wives and a string
of mistresses, with only some still-births and a couple of bastard daughters to
show for it….

         
But Felipe would sire sons, he thought relishingly, if the
girl were wrong enough to bear them-brawling, red-headed brats to set in place
of that cretin, his nephew, without fear of sickliness in mind or body. And
yet-after she had borne a male child or two-why not? She could be shamed into
yielding if he threatened to denounce her for adultery with Tristán, especially
if Tristán were no longer alive. Once she had been broached, numbers made no
odds.

         
The thought pleased him so much that he pinched her cheek,
enjoying her recoil from the familiarity. ‗Until your wedding? Less than
a sennight now – six days, in fact. I did not pay too much heed to your late
urging: I knew that slowness of yours was nothing but a bride‘s fears. They are
past now, mmm, and your are eager for your joys? I can have the day set forward
if you are in haste now.‘

         
Juana‘s head lifted proudly, and she answered with a
flicker of her old defiance, ‗I thank you, senor, but it would not be
fitting to hurry too fast to so great an honour. I had rather be well prepared.
Good day.‘

         
She curtsied regally, and as she rose de Castaneda‘s
gleeful grin had widened until it overspread his whole face. He was rubbing his
hands as he watched her go, and then he turned abruptly and hurried in the
opposite direction.

         
My uncle says wait six days. The Duque de Valenzuela was scowling
as kicked moodily at the fragile leg of an inlaid table. Why wait, Felipe? I
want her now.‘

         
‗She must have new gowns for the marriage feast-she
is from the country, remember.‘ Tristán's emerald gaze rested on his charge
with a sort of unemotional distaste. ‗Your uncle promised to provide her
with bride -clothes - and he is right, there is no need for haste.‘

         
The Duque had not heard him. His bony hands were rubbing at
his velvet breeches, his eyes narrowing to ecstatic slits. ‗Pretty....soft
and dark and

         
small...she will not care for anything once I have lain
with her. Shy wenches love it best, my uncle says; perhaps she is impatient,
too...‘

         
‗No, Your Grace. I told you, she is green in
love-matters. I could tell so much at once,‘ Tristán interrupted, the twist of
his mouth somehow derisive. ‗She has not learned yet what it is to want a
man, so you must be patient on your wedding night. She will fear you
otherwise.‘

        
He was staring out of the barred window at the crowding hills
beyond, but before his eyes was a picture of Juana's bowed head and clinging
arms as she had lain against him last night, helpless and suppliant. He had
expected the familiar revulsion of satiety at the peak of possession, the
knowledge that here was yet another proud Spanish jennet on heat, beneath her
haughty airs and graces, for any stallion who would cover her. But,

         
hearing the desperate note in her sobbing,

         
he had felt a compunction that take her so urgently, so
ungently.

         
A virgin, too, he recalled wryly, and his impassive face
hardened almost indefinably. Well, it had done Eugenio's business swifter and
more brutally than he had meant, but once the girl was wedded to Bartolomé,
safely chained to the Castillo, there would be all the time in the world to
bring her to heel; to stole her pride and make her beg like the others.

         
Bartolomé was plucking at his sleeve, and he turned to look
down into the repellent face that he knew so well.

         
‗ F-Fear me? The pendulous lower lip was quivering
petulantly. But I shall please her, shall I not?‘