Flower for a Bride (11 page)

Dom Julyan nodded at her carelessly, Donna Colares waved an equally careless hand, and Lois stooped to retrieve a woolly toy which she had suddenly discovered was lying on the floor near her feet. In that way she avoided her employer’s eyes at he said a polite but formal goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Miss Fairchild,” purred the Portuguese widow.

And when they had left the room Lois looked down at the toy and then put it away. She had a feeling that her first day at the Quinta de Valerira was not a success, and that its close was marked by a kind of foreboding—a warning of bitter unhappiness in store.

But the next few days were pleasant enough, and she was allowed to settle down with Jamie with few interruptions. She found Miss Mattie a pleasant person to have in the background to talk to, and she was allowed to do more or less as she liked with Jamie. In the cool of the morning they walked in the gardens, did lessons in the big day nursery— such simple lessons as reading, writing, and reading Portuguese history. All this had to be done in English, because Lois had no Portuguese, but the books were there, and Dom Julyan seemed to be anxious that his son should have an excellent knowledge of English.

In the afternoon they rested—or Jamie rested, and Lois often felt restless and wished they could walk abroad—and for tea they were sometimes summoned to the library, and once or twice they took tea with Miss Mattie.

They were also taken for one or two short drives to the dust-colored car by Ricardo, and Lois was driven to understand that any time she wished to do any shopping the car was at her disposal.

The only time she met Dom Julyan at lunch during that first week he appeared to be very much preoccupied, and apart from making one or two enquiries about their morning had little to say to either her or Jamie. On the other days of the week he lunched out and after one experience dining with him alone Lois persuaded Miss Mattie to put forward a suggestion that they partook of their evening meal together in Miss Mattie’s quarters.

It wasn’t that the experience fell short of anything she had expected, but perhaps because they were alone Dom Julyan seemed extra formal, and the thought that in her humble capacity as a governess she would have to make one of a dinner-party when it took place decided her that some other arrangement would be far better—certainly far more suitable. For one thing her supply of evening frocks was likely to give out, and although her salary was generous she didn’t wish to spend too much of it on clothes. A day might dawn when she would fail to give satisfaction, and would have to go home to England, and a little money behind her to replace what she had already frittered away m a painfully large hotel bill seemed highly desirable.

Miss Mattie seemed to welcome the idea of having her company in the evenings, and so far as Lois knew Dom

Julyan had no objections to raise to their sharing an evening meal. It struck that he was probably relieved, although on the night of her arrival he had undoubtedly been quite concerned to find her dining alone.

But dining alone was one thing, and dining with Miss Mattie was another. Manlike he hadn’t thought of the in-between course, and Lois congratulated herself on having thought of it for him. And she felt infinitely relieved because the very idea of having to sit through a long-drawn-out meal of several courses in unsuitable clothes, while Donna Colares—or someone of Colares type—occupied the seat of honor at his right hand, was something she actually shrank from.

But Donna Colares didn't forget her, and her invitation to tea arrived before the first week was out. It was a Sunday afternoon, and an afternoon one was entitled to, anyway, so she didn’t think she was putting anyone out very much by relinquishing her charge of Jamie. But she would much rather have stayed with him, and as the big dust-colored car swept her towards the home of the attractive Gloria’s parents, she tried to puzzle out in her mind why the vivacious Portuguese widow was so determined to take an interest in her.

Normally a governess, she felt sure, would have been a little below her notice, for there was that in the cast of her features that betrayed a good deal of

pride, and when she was not actually smiling, or appearing animated, she could look just a trifle disdainful. It was possible, Lois realized, that she was genuinely kind-hearted, and the idea of a lonely English girl touched her in some curious way. It was possible too, that the diversion she was seeking for her brother was her reason. But somehow Lois couldn’t be convinced of that, for the son of a wealthy Portuguese was hardly likely to need distraction provided for him—and, in any case Lois had no intention of providing that distraction herself.

She was a little curious about Rick Enderby, the English artist, who must be a local resident, but Dom Julyan had come so close to looking down his beautifully straight and very aristocratic nose at the mere

mention of him that she was afraid he was not amongst the most acceptable of local foreign residents. Not where Dom Julyan was concerned, at any rate.

But, then, Dom Julyan, she felt sure, was extremely fastidious.

With so many doubts and perplexities in her mind she was not looking forward to her afternoon, but considerably to her surprise when she reached her destination she found that her host and hostess were two of the most delightful people she had ever met. Senhor Fernandes was a white-haired, jovial man with twinkling eyes, and his wife was plump and thoroughly amiable, and it was quite obvious their eldest daughter took after neither of them, although a little of her easy affability she might have inherited from her mother.

She was extremely affable to Lois, and once again Lois was struck by her elegance, and by the animation in her face—the flame-like vivacity and suggestion of passionate warmth that dwelt behind the brilliant golden-brown eyes. But it was a warmth that could not be aroused by everyone, she felt sure, for even to her parents she was casual, and amongst the many guests there were those whom she completely ignored. Amongst the guests she obviously favored she picked out one or two to whom she introduced Lois, and amongst the first of the men—as if he had been invited for the express purpose— was Rick Enderby.

Lois, feeling extremely under-dressed in her navy-blue tie-silk dress, with which she wore a little white hat and white shoes, and carried her big white pouch handbag under her arm, discovered he was looking at her with a kind of amusement in his eyes as she held out her hand.

He was a big, fair man, with a bronzed face and a little, curling golden beard, and eyes as blue as Jay’s. They were disconcerting eyes, perhaps because of that twinkle in them, but Lois decided immediately that he reminded her of a Viking, and that she liked him. He gave her hand a very firm pressure, and he had a one-sided white-toothed smile that attracted her.

“I’ve already heard quite a bit about you,” he told her, “and I don’t mind admitting I’ve been curious to meet you. Do you think you’re going to like looking after the Valerira infant?”

“Oh, yes,” Lois assured him. She found herself smiling back at him naturally, as if she had known him for a long time. “I’m already quite attached to him, and I think I’m very lucky to have found such a comfortable job. I was on holiday, you know, and I didn’t expect it.”

He nodded.

“Yes. I’ve heard about that, too—the wedding that didn’t come off! You’re a relation of the bride-that-was-to-have-been, aren’t you?’’

Lois ceased to smile for a moment.

“Her cousin.”

"Well, well!” he said. “It’s an ill wind that blows nobody any good! If you hadn’t come out here for the wedding Dom Julyan would never have seen you and decided that you were the ideal person to take over the charge of his precious son and heir, and the rest of us would never have met you. I wouldn’t have met you!”

Lois felt herself coloring faintly, a trifle confused by the unmistakable admiration in his blue eyes.

“I understand you’re an artist,” she murmured.

“I paint pictures,” he admitted. “Not very good pictures— but they make it possible for me to live here, and if there’s one thing I can’t bear trying to do it’s attempting to eke out an existence in a cold climate. Here there’s so much color and warmth that it doesn’t matter very much how much money you have, and what little you have seems to go a long way. Unless my tastes are simple.”

Are they simple?” she enquired.

“I’ve a bungalow overlooking the sea, a garden that’s nearly always a blaze of flowers, and someone to look after me who understands my needs. What more could I want?” regarding her with that crooked smile. “One of these days you must come and see my bungalow, and if you don’t agree that I’m lucky I’ll be surprised. I’ll get my housekeeper to lay on one of her special lunches, and then you’ll agree that I’m extraordinarily lucky.”

Lois was about to thank him for his invitation when Gloria came up to them and asked whether they were getting on as famously as she had felt certain they would. Her red lips had a smile on them that made Lois think once more of the Mona Lisa, and there was a sparkle of something that might have been a tinge of mockery in her eyes as she looked at Rick Enderby. He gazed back at her with a sleepy expression under his surprisingly dark eyelashes, and assured her with a bland note in his voice that naturally he and such an attractive fellow countrywoman were getting along very well. How could they do otherwise?

“Well, don’t monopolize her altogether,” Gloria said.

“There are other people who want to get to know her, you know,” but she made no attempt to introduce anyone else, and before she went away she sent another curious look at the Englishman which Lois found it well-nigh impossible to interpret. It was a look which suggested they knew one another very well, but it also suggested some sort of a challenge. Even a conspiracy between them, which made Lois look suddenly doubtful.

“Come and sit down over here,” Enderby said, guiding her by the arm towards a secluded corner near one of the big windows, which overlooked an ornamental terrace, beyond which lay rolling lawns. “Do you like tea with lemon or without? Or would you prefer lemon-squash, or something cooling like that? At these ‘do’s’ all sorts of things are always available, unlike Sunday afternoon in England. And if you’re feeling hungry the ‘eats’ are rather appetizing.”

“I’m not feeling a bit hungry,” she told him, “and I’d like tea with milk if you can get it.”

“With cream,” he answered, “and I’ll get it immediately.” When he came back he sat looking at her again, as if he found her a refreshing spectacle. She sipped her tea and found it to her taste, and waited for him to ask questions.

“How do you like Dom Julyan?”

“He’s very considerate as an employer.”

“And as a man?”

“I hardly know him,” she answered.

“H’m!” he commented, offering her a cigarette, and then lighting it for her. “You’re a young woman of discretion, I can see, and you’re not prepared to offer any comments about that marriage that failed to come off. But if I’m permitted to make one solitary comment it is that you’re quite unlike your cousin, and I’ll elaborate it by informing you that the rest of us could have told Miss Jay Fairchild that Dom Julyan’s way of life was not for her. It would have floored her absolutely, and before she’d been married a fortnight. She could never have lived up to one single thing he expected of her, and I shall never understand why he himself ever thought she could.”

“And is that confining yourself to one comment only” with a demure look.

Rick laughed softly.

“Now, if it had been you ... I might have understood it!”

“Oh, why?” she enquired.

“Because, although you don’t wear such expensive clothes as your cousin, and you’re not a beauty—not an obvious beauty, anyway—and you don’t appear to have a doting mama in the offing, who has staked her all on finding you a rich husband, you’ve already struck me as having considerably more to offer than Miss Jay could ever offer any man. Why, even the old Marquis himself might have escaped raised eyebrows if he’d emerged from his seclusion and asked you to be his wife!”

This time it was Lois who laughed, but with a strong tinge of embarrassment, tinctured with disbelief.

“Doesn’t the old Marquis possess a wife, then? She asked. “No. She's been dead for years, and I don’t suppose he’ll ever take another. But you’d fit into his background very well—the palacio near Lisbon, and another in Estoril. You’re a dainty little lady, you know, and as poised as a sprig of apple blossom. Will you let me paint you one day?”

“Paint me? But, why in the world should you want to paint me . . . ?”

“Will you?”

“I don’t get a great deal of free time, and it might not be very easy. Wouldn’t it be wiser for you to stick to all the marvellous beauties of nature that abound around here?”

“It wouldn’t,” he answered, “and we’ll fix something up. You’re entitled to enough free time to make your job bearable, and Dom Julyan will have to recognize that. Will you have dinner with me one night this week?”

She looked even more taken aback.

“But I honestly don’t know about my off-duty periods. I haven’t gone into them very seriously...”

“Then I’ll telephone Dom Julyan and tell him that I’ve asked you to spend an evening with me, and get him to state when you can be free. Then I’ll notify you, and the thing will be simple.” He smiled at her. “What an obstructionist you are, and don’t you know that all work and no play makes Jill a dull girl? There’s quite an attractive nightspot in Alvora where the food is good and the service excellent, and where we can dance, too. Now, don’t tell me you don’t dance!”

She looked at him a little whimsically, deciding that in addition to looking like a Viking he had Viking methods of obtaining what he wanted, and that he would not be at all an easy man to sidetrack. She wasn’t at all sure that she approved of him ringing up Dom Julyan, but she couldn’t think of anything else to say just then that would be likely to put him off, and when he suggested going into the garden to inspect a corner of it devoted to some magnificent roses she agreed at once, and hoped that he would forget about his invitation to dinner, and the necessity of putting the matter before her employer.