Dear Conquistador Page 13

  ‘No. We judge as we find, but our freedom helps us to be more discriminate in forming serious relationships.’

  ‘I see.’ The Conde shifted his position and studied her more closely. ‘So it is exactly as I have heard: you are in favour of more free and easy relationships between the sexes.’

  She hesitated. ‘Yes, in a way. That’s what I’m trying to explain. If a boy and girl make a lot of friendships it all helps them to know human nature and make comparisons. Then they are less likely to make a mistake when they choose their life partner. ’

  ‘Go on,’ he prompted as she paused.

  ‘One learns how temperaments can clash. So it’s better to have a friendly relationship first, get to know each other, before entering into a more emotional, or - or formal relationship, she said cautiously suddenly aware of a slight shift of intensity in the atmosphere. ‘Temperament is extremely important to a happy relationship, so it’s far better to discover incompatibility before it’s too late,’ she ended more firmly.

  ‘Yes, I think I follow your line of reasoning.’ The Conde’s dark brows rose over his intent eyes. ‘So it is perfectly permissible for a man to engage a girl’s interest, even make overtures to her, without committing himself in the least?’

  This wasn’t quite what she had meant, and she frowned, uncertain how to parry the undoubted modicum of truth in this cunning ambiguity. The suspicion was born on her that he was amused behind that intent gravity - and not above encouraging her to discourse on the subject. She said indignantly: ‘It isn’t quite as cold-blooded as you make it sound. The girl understands that when a boy asks her to go out with him and—’

  ‘Date is the term, I believe?’ His mouth did not flicker. ‘Dates her, perhaps makes a small gift of sweets, or a record,’ she went on steadily, not looking at him, ‘it doesn’t mean that he immediately becomes her special property or she his. They’re both perfectly free to form other attachments. But usually they do break away from their circle of friends and date each other exclusively for a while, if they’ve become very attracted to one another, but even then—’

  ‘There appear to be a great number of buts and ifs involved in these non-committed relationships,’ he observed with utter gravity. ‘But I am sorry - I interrupt. Please continue. This is most interesting.’

  She glanced at him, then away, her mouth tightening a fraction. ‘It still doesn’t mean that they automatically expect the relationship to end in marriage, and even if they do decide to get engaged, only to discover that they’ve made a mistake or quarrel too much, they’re still free to break it off. It’s their decision, and even if the parents are upset it’s understood that it’s the couple’s decision. Because it’s their future happiness that’s at stake and no one else’s.’

  ‘I see.’ He leaned one arm on the back of the seat and he stroked his chin musingly. ‘But what about the girl’s parents? Don’t they object?’

  ‘Object?’ She stared at him. ‘Why should they? Not if they love their daughter. They want her to be happy.’

  ‘No, you misread me, senorita. Do they have no objections to their daughter being subjected to amatory advances from these casual male acquaintances?’

  His dry phraseology invoked a gleam of amusement in her eyes and a desire to giggle. But it also masked what might have been a twinge of warning instinct and made her miss a certain intentness in his tone. She said firmly: ‘Not at all. They don’t look at it from that viewpoint. Not if they know the boy and - and trust their daughter. ’

  Silence fell, broken softly only by the stirring of the leaves and the secretive murmurs of some unseen insects. The skies were very clear, ablaze with stars, and the edges of the shadows were crisp now, making a bright latticework among the leaves. She stole a glance sideways and could discern the Conde’s lean, aristocratic profile quite clearly. It was thoughtful, unmoving, and he stared at the night scene for quite a while before he turned to her, almost as though he had reached some decision.

  ‘I understand now,’ he said coolly.

  She smiled. ‘I hope it has helped you to see our viewpoint, senor.’

  He inclined his head. ‘I understand that two young people may encounter one another quite casually, as total strangers, even. Perhaps in a cafe or theatre and without introduction by a mutual acquaintance. And then the man is quite free to make an advance if he feels attracted. To which the girl, if she is also initially attracted, will not object. It is all in the name of learning to judge human nature if he should put out his hand - so - and touch her hand. Or caress her - thus... ’

  The warm steely fingers had stolen along the curve of her cheek almost before she realized his intention. They cupped her chin, turned it so that she was forced to meet his intent gaze, and imprisoned her even as they had imprisoned her wrist a short while before.

  His voice came softly but quite clear: ‘He may then proceed to embrace and kiss her. ’

  Hilary heard the gasp of her own indrawn breath as she moved to break the dangerous little spell. Instantly he released her and drew back.

  ‘I have overstepped the permitted line? There is, after all, an invisible boundary which must be crossed with care?’

  She managed a smile. ‘I don’t think you do understand, senor. We don’t all start making love the moment we meet a stranger. ’

  ‘I would hardly say we are still strangers,’ he said suavely. ‘Oh, no, but that isn’t quite what—’ She stopped, wondering how to extricate herself from the dissertation which had taken an unexpected turn. She attempted to laugh lightly. ‘We do stay fairly level-headed, you know, and try to keep our emotions from getting too out of hand. ’

  The moment the words were out she realized their foolishness - and regretted them bitterly. The Conde’s eyes glimmered with the light of challenge accepted - and returned!

  ‘Now who is cold-blooded?’

  ‘N-not cold-blooded.’ This time the dangerous little spell was not so easily broken. She gave a helpless shake of her head. ‘It’s just a matter of being sensible.’

  ‘ Sensible!’ He was clearly astounded. ‘You really believe in so cold a theory? You—’

  ‘But it isn’t a theory! It—’ She tried to argue, to get back to safer ground, but his impatient gesture swept aside her frail protest.

  ‘You foolish chica! You really believe you can play around and still keep emotions within hand. It is my belief that you do not know the meaning of the word!’

  Denial rushed to her lips, faltered, and was lost in a gasp as the Conde effectively routed it. That sensuous touch of velvet came against her again, and in its turn was lost in the crushing strength of his embrace. Fresh impressions assailed her senses, wildly and overwhelming; a tang of spiced lotion lingering on his skin, the scent of the dressing that sleeked his black hair, the trace of warm smokiness in his breath, all mingling with the sheer impact of his personality to bring a power that reached every part of her being. Then the assailing impressions in their turn were lost in an oblivion in which nothing existed except his mouth on her own.

  By the time she sought to recover shattered senses he was drawing back, looking down at the pale tremulous oval of her face. A light of satisfaction glinted in his dark eyes, and the mouth that could wreak such total devastation curved in a slight smile.

  ‘I have a mind to teach you that meaning, my so cool little English miss.’

  He was still holding her in the warm captivity of his hands, and Hilary was discovering an alarming weakness had robbed her limbs of their independence. Only her brain functioned wildly.... take flight... stay... protest...? All questions ... no answers ... Why?

  ‘But you tremble! Surely one kiss is not so great a shock!’ His voice was soft with amusement and the suspicion flared

  in Hilary that he was considering further shocks.

  Furious at her loss of composure, she pulled away and averted her face. ‘I-I certainly didn’t expect such a shock from you, senor. I—’

  ‘Me?’ There wa
s astonishment in the exclamation. ‘Do you think I am impervious to the call of the senses, senorita?’

  It seemed safer to agree and she shook her head dumbly.

  ‘Or proof against feminine appeal - especially that of a charming and modest little ice maiden who dares to lecture me so solemnly on my outmoded attitude to the lack of decorum in society today?’

  ‘Oh, but I wasn’t!’ She started back, then stood up frantically.

  ‘But I think you were.’ His own movement was no less swift but considerably more composed. He placed his hands on her shoulders and said in a low voice against her ear: ‘And I begin to think that you did not expect so sudden a conversion. ’

  ‘Nor did I expect a practical demonstration of word definition,’ she managed with commendable insouciance considering the circumstances. Wishing her heart would stop its wild capers, she spun to face his mocking gaze. ‘And please remember, senor, that— Oh!’ Her words ended with a gasp that was echoed almost immediately from behind the Conde’s tall figure.

  It was too dark to see clearly the face of the girl standing there, but Hilary had no difficulty in recognizing Consuelo -or her anger.

  ‘Con perdon! - but we have waited fifteen minutes already!’ she cried furiously. ‘Or had you forgotten, Romualdo?’

  He turned to face her and bowed his head with a brief, icy courtesy. ‘My apologies, senorita, I did not know.’ He moved forward, then checked Hilary as she would have fled. ‘No, senorita. I will see you indoors.’

  ‘We are going to be terribly late,’ Consuelo grumbled as the Conde guided the two girls towards the terrace.

  Hilary scarcely heard her; a complexity of new bewildering emotions was besetting her already shattered composure as she saw the Conde go to the waiting Sanchia and take both her hands to his lips as he murmured his apologies.

  The corpulent Don Miguel hovered in the background, and as all three newcomers were in evening attire it was obvious that a social foursome was in the offing. The Conde greeted

  the other man and then excused himself, a brief gesture brushing his lapel indicating that he must change from his informal jacket, otherwise he was ready.

  He appeared to have forgotten Hilary’s existence, and after an automatic acknowledgment of Sanchia’s friendly smile she made her way upstairs, back to the shampoo preparations which seemed to have been begun aeons ago. She stood for a long time, staring unseeingly into the mirror and running long finger-strokes through her loosened hair. Already the past hour was taking on a curious dreamlike quality - except that no dream left after-effects like this! Nor did any dream leave this sudden surge of unreasonable hatred of Consuelo.

  Why had fate brought her along at that precise moment?

  How much had she heard of that bizarre little exchange? Hilary’s mouth quivered; it had been a bizarre little lecture on her part! Then her mouth tightened again. How much had Consuelo seen?

  Suddenly Hilary jammed the wash-basin plug in place with unnecessary force. There was nothing bizarre about it at all; it simply proved the Conde was human after all, and she would be deluding herself to pretend that he wasn’t one of the most fascinating, exciting and attractive men with whom she had ever exchanged a kiss. Exchanged?

  The oval face in the mirror was glowing a distinct pink. Abruptly she plunged her head into the water and upended the bottle of shampoo too wildly to be accurate. Knuckling the liquid stream away from her eyes, she pushed the thought out of her mind. What did it matter if Consuelo had witnessed that kiss?

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  A sense of normality returned with the advent of Bruce Gilford the following day. As promised, he arrived very early driving a large white tourer, and Hilary found it pleasant and relaxing to ride through the cool, misted morning to reach Bruce’s house before the heat of noon sapped energy.

  As the day wore on the scene of the previous evening grew more dreamlike in retrospect, yet the memory of it persisted in returning, to bring secret quivers of amusement at the Conde’s supposition regarding Bruce.

  In all but one respect the Conde’s forecast was extremely accurate. Bruce did show her over parts of the ranch, including some of the most magnificent horses she had ever seen, and pointed out the main house and superb garden

  which was Don Alonso’s country home. He did tease her with nonsensical quips, entirely free of conventional restraint during a pleasant meal in his own more modest but extremely comfortable house, and after his housekeeper brought coffee and withdrew he invited Hilary’s reminiscences to intermingle with his own anecdotes of his life and travels. But not once during that long and pleasant day did he make any effort to flirt.

  The Conde was of far too suspicious a turn of mind, she decided when a companionable silence fell between herself and Bruce dining the drive home under the silver-dusted purple night. Anyway, he had no room to talk, in view of his own guileful performance in the garden last night. An increasing awareness of how skilfully and craftily outplayed she had been brought, surprisingly, no anger, only a small secretive curve to her mouth and a warm sense of anticipation of the next time she should cross swords with a conquistador — when she would be well and truly on guard! ‘What’s so amusing?’

  Bruce’s voice recalled her errant attention and she realized that the car had stopped. She saw the outline of the villa silhouetted against the deep velvet sky, and turned guiltily to the man in the driving seat. He shook his head admonishingly.

  ‘I don’t believe you heard a word I said!’

  ‘I’m sorry - I was off the wavelength,’ she said contritely. ‘What did you say, Bruce?’

  Her apologetic smile disarmed him instantly. ‘Nothing profound,’ he said lightly, ‘only to ask what were you planning for tomorrow?’

  She told him, and he raised quizzical brows. ‘Mind if I join you? I’m an expert guide.’

  She hesitated, then laughed. ‘Are you afraid I get lost in the mountains?’

  ‘Exploring’s more fun with two. So we’ll call that settled.’ He reached for the car door. ‘I’ll see you up to the house.’ Her small demur was lost in the closing of the door. He tucked an escorting hand under her elbow as they strolled along the arbor walk and up the terrace steps. At the patio door Bruce stopped and looked down at her for a moment, still cupping her arm in the warmth of his hand. Hilary experienced a moment of wry doubt. Perhaps Bruce was about to make a belated start at a mild flirtation, or... Why did men invariably expect a reward for taking a girl out? An exchange of endearments should happen naturally, she thought, not because it had become a tradition. Suddenly she knew she didn’t want to kiss Bruce, even the goodnight kind of kiss that could be a pleasurable exchange without counting a jot to either party. Then she felt her hand taken into his warm clasp, and heard him say lightly:

  ‘No, I don’t think you’re the kind of girl who dispenses goodnight kisses to all and sundry. Am I right?’

  She was so surprised she could only stare up at his quizzical features.

  ‘Unless of course you’d be affronted if I didn’t pay you the compliment?’ he added softly.

  ‘Oh, Bruce, you’re an idiot!’ she laughed. ‘Thanks for a lovely day.’ Impulsively she reached up and gave him the kiss that a moment ago had seemed an unwilling token.

  She was smiling to herself when she ran lightly upstairs to her room a little while later, after making the arrangements for the next day with Brace. The big villa was still and silent, as though deserted, and she gave a small exclamation as the staircase lights flipped out just as she reached the top.

  The culprit was Juanita, just closing the door of her room. She re-emerged and looked curiously at Hilary.

  ‘I am sorry - I didn’t hear you - but I could not sleep with the light shining under my door. Have you had a good day?’

  ‘Wonderful.’

  ‘He is very attractive, the English Senor Gilford, is he not?’

  ‘Yes, he is rather nice-looking,’ Hilary agreed after a moment’s reflection on B
ruce’s undoubtedly attractive physical appearance. But Juanita was shaking her head.

  ‘I do not mean in only his looks,’ she said wistfully. ‘It is the way he accepts a woman as an intellectual equal and companion, yet is still protective towards her in the way that an escort should. ’

  ‘I didn’t think you knew Bruce well enough to notice all that,’ Hilary said with some surprise. ‘But most Englishmen are like that now, although there are pockets of resistance,’ she added wryly. ‘Quite a lot of them have decided that we can’t have equal pay and all the rest of it and still expect them to give up their seats in buses and open doors for us. Which is fair enough, I suppose. So,’ she regarded Juanita with merriment in her eyes, ‘think it over carefully before you go all out for complete emancipation. ’

  ‘But you would not give up your freedom now you have won it, I think. ’

  ‘No, not our freedom to choose our lovers.’ Hilary sighed, sensing Juanita’s desire to exchange confidences, and leaned against the door jamb. She smiled at the younger girl. ‘Anything exciting happened here today?’

  Juanita closed her eyes and gave an exaggerated sigh of boredom. ‘Nothing exciting ever happens here, and today has been even duller.’

  ‘Bad as that?’

  Juanita nodded. ‘Joaquin was peevish because he could not visit Ruy, and so I had to amuse him. Tio was in a bad temper as well, and then Consuelo and Sanchia called to see Tia Elena, and even Sanchia was in a disagreeable mood. ’

  Juanita lowered her voice. ‘She is talking of going back to Europe and taking a post with Carlo’s firm, and everyone is trying to dissuade her.’

  ‘I don’t see why she shouldn’t go back to Europe if she wants to,’ said Hilary, ‘or why she shouldn’t take a job with her late husband’s firm. After all, she is bound to have made friends over there. I think it’s a very good idea.

  ‘Yes, but there is Don Miguel. Actually, I think she wants to get away from him,’ Juanita giggled.

  ‘I’m not surprised.’ Hilary did not lower her voice to a secretive whisper as Juanita had done. ‘The family seems determined to push her into some man’s arms.’