Master of Hearts (6 page)

But once again this proved to be an anti-climax, and instead of being conducted downstairs to the library she was taken to a suite of rooms in quite a different part of the quinta. No sooner had she entered them than the almost overpowering feminine luxury came at her like a voluptuous mantle cast over her head, and her first sight of Dona Inez was so much in keeping, and such a surprise, that she could hardly keep her astonishment out of her face.

For some reason she had pictured the twins' mother as a dignified Portuguese matron, borne down with the grief of losing a husband. But Miguel de Chaves' sister looked as if she had only just turned twenty; she was like some lovely, tenuous, waxen blossom as she lay

on a low French bed in the white and gold bedroom. The vitality in her glorious dark eyes had the restless quality of one who was infinitely bored, and the pallor of her complexion would have deceived no one. She possessed the matt white skin of the most favoured
amongst
her country women, containing the purity of the Night Blowing Cereus, with none of its fragile texture.

She had the slender body of a very young girl—almost a child—and she was clad in a white silken housegown as she lay on the bed. Her hair was a tangle of curls with some Titian lights caught up in the jetty masses, and although it was very early in the day there were pearls in her ears and a diamond bracelet blazed on her wrist. A fine platinum chain encircled one slender ankle.

She uttered an exclamation when the maid ushered Kathleen into the room, and then sat up and indicated a chair beside the bed.

"Sit down," she said, speaking English with the same effortlessness as her brother, but with a little less of his formality. "I am relieved to find that you really are young, and not one of those stiff-necked English duennas such as I myself had when I was a child." She smiled faintly. "No doubt it was your youth that caused my brother to look with little favour on you in the first place."

Kathleen didn't answer, but she sat down as requested. Dona Inez called the maid back as she was on the point of departing, and ordered her to bring coffee.

"It is the hour for elevenses, as you would say," she said to Kathleen, "and Maria can be safely entrusted with the children for a time. They make fun of her because she is old, but she will keep them amused while we talk."

Kathleen wanted to suggest that it was not a very kind thing to make fun of the old, but she had an idea that the widow would have arched her pencil-slim eyebrows and looked at her with amusement in her

own eyes. There was no false sentiment about Dona Inez de Chaves Curtis!

The coffee arrived, and Dona Inez—who seemed to suffer from a perpetual languour—stretched herself gracefully on her pillows, and asked Kathleen to pour out. She kept her eyes fixed on the girl while she did so, and when her own cup was offered to her indicated with a beautiful white hand that it was to be set down near to her. Then she said:

"You are pretty! In fact, you are very pretty!"

"Thank you." But Kathleen's surprise showed in her face. "I'm sure you are more concerned with my ability to take charge of your little boys."

The Portuguese woman laughed softly.

"On the contrary, I have seen so many young women attempt to take charge of my little boys that I should be infinitely surprised if in a very short while they weren't taking charge of you! It always happens, and you can blame it on my husband, who ruined them." She spoke so carelessly of her husband that Kathleen was conscious of shock. "American men dote on children, and Joe was no exception. You know, I expect, that he died as the result of an accident?"

"I—I didn't know. I'm sorry!"

Dona Inez reached for a cigarette, and lighted it. "It was a car accident. Joe always drove much too fast."

"I'm sorry," Kathleen said again, rather feebly. The other shrugged.

"Life is full of sorrow, and one has to accept it." Her voice, however, held none of the undercurrents of tragedy. "I was not very happy in America, and I'm glad to be home again."

Once again Kathleen said nothing, and Dona Inez regarded her through a feathery plume of smoke as it curled upward to the ceiling. Suddenly her voice sounded definitely amused, and a smile curled her vivid lips.

"My brother clings to the old order of things, and he believes that woman should fit into a niche. When he marries his wife will have to obey him, and she will

never have the freedom that I had as an American wife. Whether or not unlimited freedom is good for a woman I don't know, but you will appreciate that I find it a little difficult to settle back into the old routine. However, before very long I shall perhaps have my own establishment once more."

She flicked ash from her cigarette, delicately, into an ash-tray. And Kathleen waited for something that she felt was coming.

"One reason why I was so relieved to discover that you are young—and distinctly human!—is that I feel very much the odd-man-out in an establishment of this sort, and it will be nice to know that we can have a little talk occasionally, and no doubt become friends." Her eyes were alert as they studied Kathleen's face. "I feel that I need a friend, and most of my old ones have forgotten me. There is, however, one who will be coming here today . . . this morning."

Kathleen still waited.

"You have already come up against the difficult side of my brother. You will understand, therefore, if I ask you to turn a blind eye should you meet this particular friend—and he is a particular friend!—on the stairs? You will not let Miguel know about it?"

Kathleen stood up.

"I'm afraid you don't quite understand that there is a strong possibility that I may not be staying here, Dona Inez. ..."

But the other was not listening to her, she was giving all her attention to a very slight commotion that was going on in the sitting-room on the far side of the door. Her pale cheeks were warmed by the rush of colour that swept into them, and her eyes sparkled with excitement. She fairly leapt off the bed and started to peel off her housegown.

"I must dress," she said, reverting to Portuguese in her excitement. Then, in English: "Go now, Miss O'Farrel," she commanded. "Return and look after the children. I will have a little talk with you another day."

Kathleen accepted her dismissal with a slight feeling of bewilderment, and as she left the bedroom Dona Inez was ripping open the doors of her wardrobe and running her hands over the long line of lovely frocks and expensive suits that hung there. She selected something in a deep peacock-blue colour, with the shimmer of brocade, and flung it on the bed while she made up her face.

Kathleen walked across the floor of the sitting-room without noticing at first that a man was standing before the window, looking out into the sun-filled gardens of the quinta. The maid had just left him alone, and he was gazing thoughtfully into space with a slight smile on his lips.

As Kathleen passed close to him he turned and glanced at her in surprise. One of his eyebrows shot upwards. She had an impression of velvety brown eyes that registered admiration as she lifted her own blue ones, an olive skin and a handsome, if rather weak, mouth. And his teeth were very white as he smiled quickly.

He said something in Portuguese, but she was not familiar enough with the language to know what it was. As she reached the opposite door the one behind her opened, and Inez put in her lovely head.

"I will not keep you, Fernando," she said, with a silken softness. Then, as Kathleen made her hurried escape, "It is only the new governess!"

Kathleen stood outside the door and felt herself frowning. Not because she had been dismissed as `only the new governess,' but because Inez was doing something, she was certain, against the wishes of her brother. And since he was for the moment, at least, supporting her and her two children it didn't seem quite right, somehow.

KATHLEEN was still looking perplexed, and faintly

disturbed, when she reached the head of the magnificent marble staircase on her way back to her own room.

She had the uneasy conviction that she was hopelessly lost, and it was something of a relief to see the Conde himself ascending the stairs.

"Ah, Miss O'Farrel!" he exclaimed, and paused within a few feet of her. "I was on my way to visit my sister, but you and I have a little something to talk about, and as my sister is, I understand, disinclined to receive visitors this morning, we will go down to the library!"

Kathleen said nothing, only gazed at him. She wasn't thinking so much about that 'little something' they had to talk about, as the narrow escape Dona Inez had had from being caught with a handsome masculine caller in her sitting-room—while she changed in the next room!

According to Portuguese standards that could hardly be quite right either!

"Well?" the Conde said, with his mask-like expression, as she stood staring at him. "You do realise that I must ask for an explanation of last night, and my nephew's extraordinary conduct?"

"Yes—yes, of course!" She moved forward so hurriedly to the top of the stairs that her foot caught in the thick pile of the carpet, and but for his ready hand she might have tumbled headlong down the entire flight. "Of course!" she repeated, breathlessly.

For the first time she saw him smile in a really whimsical fashion, and his teeth were far whiter than Fernando's, while the lips parted over them were firm as well as shapely.

"You are very agitated this morning, senhorita!" he told her, retaining possession of her arm. "Surely you

do not think that I will devour you whole once I get you down to the library?"

She tried to smile naturally.

"Of course not! But, I—I haven't much of an explanation, and I was thinking it was a pity I unpacked my things last night."

"Meaning that I shall once more inform you that I do not think you are good for my nephews?"

"Yes, I'm afraid that is what you will do!"

He said nothing more until they reached the library, where he put her into a chair, and then started to pace up and down. It was, as she remembered, a beautiful room, and he fitted into it so well that she couldn't help watching him as he moved about it. There was something slightly cat-like in his stride, and the dark beauty of his face was curiously satisfying if one could only study it without wondering what his reactions were likely to be to a certain set of circumstances. The gravity of his knitted brows lent him a look of austerity, and in repose his mouth was neither hard nor harsh. And the squareness of his chin bestowed a feeling of confidence.

This was a man to be trusted, even if he was easily tried and a little unreasonable. Very unreasonable, if he was going to tell her to re-pack her things after all!

"Miss O'Farrell" She had no idea she was quite lost in thought and speculation about him until he stood in front of her and spoke levelly. "Will you accept an apology?"

"An—apology?"

"Yes, for the reception you received on the first occasion that you came here! I'm afraid you were rather more sinned against than sinning."

"I don't quite understand," she said, quietly. "You found me on the floor with your nephews, and the room in an uproar. It was hardly likely you would receive a favourable impression of me."

"Nevertheless, I did!" he told her, surprising her utterly.

She stared at him. His dark-grey eyes gazed back into hers.

"You put in an appeal for the children, and once you had gone I realised that that was a most unusual thing for a young woman who had been summarily sent about her business to bother to do. They are impossible children, as even you with your sentimental views about young things must recognise, yet something about them touched you sufficiently to make you anxious lest I should exercise my right to stem disciplinary measures that would bring home to them the enormity of their offence in despoiling my library."

"They did make a frightful mess," she agreed, "but I'm sure it was only due to an excess of high spirits."

"And you don't think they're the deplorable imps of devilment I think they are?"

She hesitated, remembering Jerry's confession about the unfortunate Rosa.

"I think they could have been more wisely handled in the past."

"I agree with you," he said, and started to pace up and down again. "But, unfortunately, my sister doesn't!"

She interposed quickly:

"I met Dona Inez this morning. She sent for me, and we had coffee together."

He swung round.

"You did?" She couldn't tell by the expression in his eyes whether he was pleased or otherwise. "And did she explain to you that as an uncle I am an ogre, and as a brother capable of understanding all that she has gone through I leave much to be desired?" His voice was very dry. "Very, very much to be desired!"

Kathleen felt suddenly extremely awkward.

"I should hardly think Dona Inez has recovered sufficiently from the tragedy of her husband's death to have opinions about very much," she ventured. "And almost certainly she is grateful to you for providing a home for herself and her two young sons."