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Authors: Hannah Fielding

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BOOK: Masquerade
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Agustina’s hands paused. ‘What else did the old hag say?’ the housekeeper muttered under her breath, echoing Alexandra’s words of a few weeks earlier.

‘She said that a great love awaits me.’

‘Did she now? Don’t you know that’s the yarn they all spin to get your attention? Sometimes I wonder at how gullible you can be.’

Luz ignored her and persisted stubbornly. ‘Did she have a hand in my parents meeting?’

‘Nonsense, child!’ Agustina broke out with swift irritation.

The old servant was not prone to outbursts of discourtesy to her employers and, unlike Carmela, was very conscious of her place – even though she had always been considered to be a confidante and a friend by the family – but she regarded it as her duty to counsel and protect its members. A look of something akin to worry crossed her face before she spoke, but then she fixed Luz with a steady gaze before her hands resumed their work on the young woman’s hair.

‘Your parents, Doña Luz, met in this house – they are, as you well know, distant cousins. They were fated to meet and fall in love. Both young and handsome, it was bound to happen. Their love affair and marriage had nothing to do with the
gitanos
. If anything, it occurred despite those people and trust me when I tell you that was not for lack of trying on the part of the gypsies. Now, are you satisfied? I’ve said too much already, and you will not get a word more out of me on the subject.’

Luz smiled and wrinkled her nose in appeasement. ‘Dear Agustina, don’t be cross. Isn’t it normal that I should be interested in my parents’ romance?’

Agustina regarded her indulgently, but replied without mincing her words. ‘Don’t try and hoodwink me, child,’ she said shortly. ‘Like most people who are ignorant of those tribes and their ways, you are attracted to them. And I know you, Doña Luz … You find them mysterious and romantic, yes? They have the beguiling scent of the unknown with a spicy undercurrent that spells danger. You are young and the young are often foolish … I trust you are not so. And now, I must stop lecturing – we should get on with dressing you.’

Luz could see that she would not get anything more out of the stubborn housekeeper on this occasion and chuckled. ‘All right, you win, Agustina. I’ll say no more, I promise.’

Luz’s abundant hair was now a shining mass of tumbling jet-black waves. Agustina had artistically threaded a handful of tiny iridescent pearls through it, which caught the light with every movement. It formed the most luscious, bejewelled mantle around the young woman’s bare shoulders and fell all the way to her hips. The effect was stunning.

‘Oh, Agustina, you have such magic fingers,’ Luz cried out with delight as she leapt from her stool and surveyed herself in the cheval mirror that had once stood in her mother’s dressing room. ‘I love the effect of those seed-like beads you’ve woven into my hair.’ She ran her palms over them. ‘Shall I put on my make-up now or after I’ve dressed?’

‘It would be wiser if you did that now – you don’t want to get any on the garment, it’s very delicate,’ the housekeeper warned.

Luz applied some blush to her cheekbones and a little gloss to her lips. She had clear, luminous skin, which the sea air and sun had turned a golden honey, and her features were fine. Nature had been generous and Luz needed little embellishment from make-up. She concentrated on her eyes, intensifying their natural sapphire blue and giving them a sensuous, smoky oriental look with kohl.
In an effort to enhance the enigmatic and mysterious effect, she paid special attention to her eyelashes, which were already thick and naturally long.

‘There,’ she said, finally putting down her colours and brushes, ‘I think that’s enough. I’m not used to all this greasepaint – any more and I’ll feel a bit of a clown.’

‘You could never look like a clown, my child,’ Agustina said warmly, her eyes glittering approvingly.

Together they moved to the bed, where the magnificent sultana’s costume lay. Looking down at it, Luz marvelled at its beauty: there were six distinct parts to it, each one a work of art in its own right. She slipped on the close-fitting jerkin of fine and sheer cotton. It felt soft and snug against her body. Over it hung a tunic, called a
gömlek
, of the purest, sheer ivory-coloured silk, with a round neck slit vertically to the bust and closed by four miniature pearl buttons. This smock had long, full sleeves that bunched at the wrists and fastened tightly with the same iridescent buttons. Then, over the top of this, was the
antery
, a magnificent fitted waistcoat in heavy off-white damask silk, which boasted the most intricate embroidery of silver thread, seed pearls and precious stones. Luz fastened the buttons and passed her hand over the rich workmanship.

‘I wonder how much time and effort was invested in creating this garment?’ she said, taking the next item of clothing from Agustina’s hands.

‘A great many hours, I’m sure. I suppose it was a way for women to support themselves.’ Agustina helped the young woman into a pair of loose-fitting trousers, the
shalwar
. ‘Careful now, these are extremely delicate and could easily tear.’ They fell in graceful folds of fine ivory silk and tapered to the ankles, where they were gathered by narrow cuffs of bias-cut fabric, which contrasted subtly with the rest of the ensemble. Luz’s tiny waist was clad in a wide belt, also richly embroidered in silver, gold and small jewels.

‘And now for the final touch,’ Agustina said, holding up the veil of fine voile, to which was attached a black comb. She fixed it gently
to the hair on Luz’s crown. ‘I plaited your mother’s hair into a braided chignon when she wore this costume,’ she told her, ‘but, as I said to you before, I will leave your hair loose and hold the veil in place simply with the tiara. The pear-shaped pearl, which is the centre of the jewel, will hang over your forehead like this,’ she went on as she affixed the coronet on the young woman’s head. ‘There! Now, put on the matching earrings and those dainty-looking sandals.’ Luz obeyed without argument.

‘Es decir que ce,
that’s it!
Parece como si ha salido de una cuento de hadas moro,
you look as if you’ve just walked out of a Moorish fairy tale.’

Luz rushed to the mirror and was amazed at the transformation – she hardly recognized herself. The figure who looked back at her was a stranger, from a faraway country and a different era. Alexandra had given her daughter the matching set of jewellery, referred to as ‘Princess Gulinar’s jewels’, on her twenty-first birthday. Originally they had been given as a gift to Alexandra by Doña María Dolores when she first came to El Pavón. They consisted of a tiara, a bracelet, a pair of earrings and a necklace, all minutely worked in gold and encrusted with tiny pearls. Luz fingered the necklace, debating whether or not to wear it. She decided against it. The earrings that hung gracefully from her lobes were long enough. Her neck was left bare; and though she was unaware of it, to admiring eyes it made her look more vulnerable and artless. She turned to Agustina.

‘How do I look?’ she asked, eyes dancing with excitement.


Perfecto
! You look very enigmatic, completely transformed, a real sultana from the East. With that mask across your face, if it were not for your beautiful hair even I would not be able to recognize you.’ The Spanish woman’s face filled with pride as she contemplated Luz and her mouth broke into a wide smile. At the same time, though, a shadow passed over her aged features. ‘Many men will lose their hearts to you tonight, my child. Be careful who you lose yours to,’ she said softly. ‘I have read the cards and witnessed this before many years ago and, though I can’t see any immediate danger, I can sense deception and evil lurking in the shadows.’

‘Oh, dear Agustina,’ the young woman cried out, half laughing, her heart too full of dreams and brimming with hope to take in such enigmatic and dramatic words. ‘Don’t dampen my fun. Fancy saying something like that to me just as I’m off to a ball!’

‘It is exactly for that reason that I urge caution. Remember, snakes prefer to hide under flowers. I have found that the world outside El Pavón has always been greatly populated with snakes and today
mi paloma
, my dove, it’s no different. And now you have just enough time to show yourself off to your parents before your guests start to arrive.’

* * *

In the glow of a warm late-spring evening, with crisp linens, flickering candles, the house’s special sangria, champagne and glorious tapas generous enough to make a meal, El Pavón was the most romantic place on earth. The great ballroom, the terrace and the garden gradually filled up with a host of glamorous people in more or less elaborate disguises. It resembled a scene from Verdi’s opera,
Un Ballo in Maschera
. In this world of fantasy, of illusion and surprise, despite the formal mood, dress and setting, men and women were offered a chance to reveal everything that was normally left unexpressed for the rest of the year. As she stood alongside her parents, welcoming the first guests, Luz was struck by the liberating power of this glittering camouflage.
It’s so much easier to have fun under a false identity
… Suddenly Andrés’ words made sense to her and, strangely enough, they filled her with an added excitement she had not felt at the previous balls.

Under a sky blinking with stars, the roof of the great hacienda was ablaze with light from multicoloured lanterns, like fireballs, strewn in trees or hanging by slender chains from tall, curved iron poles. An oversize moon beamed enigmatically in the dark sapphire canopy of sky. The atmosphere was warm and scented. It was a night made for lovers.

The ballroom at El Pavón took up most of the width of the ground floor on the east side of the hacienda. It was regarded as an architectural masterpiece, with its vaulted ceiling and French windows looking over the gardens. A gallery, supported by marble columns and with an intricate wrought-iron surround, was where the orchestra was playing tonight.

Guests were still arriving and meandering into the vast ballroom, laughing and admiring each other’s costumes. Luz’s mood was elevated, as though she was waiting for something wonderful to happen. She stood in the wide doorway, her glittering dark-blue eyes peering through the narrow slits of her delicate black-velvet mask at the brightly lit ballroom scene. The atmosphere was charged with myth and fantasy.

Masked couples, living out fantastic identities, swirled, swung, twirled, twisted and glided across the highly polished parquet floor to the haunting melodies of Tchaikovsky and Delibes waltzes that filled every corner of the room. A black and yellow honeybee in black stockings and dainty golden wings was dancing with Peter Pan. Pocahontas in her brown suede outfit and feathered headband looked somewhat swamped by her partner, Minotaur, in his oversized bull mask with snout and horns. Two clowns, one jolly, the other grumpy, were fooling about on the dancefloor in their colourful three-toned jumpsuits with blue pom-pom buttons and matching hats. El Cid and Chimène were making their way to the terrace and nearly bumped into Don Quixote and Sancho Panza, who were coming back into the room. In a corner, gossiping and giggling as they watched the dancers, stood three lady buccaneers sporting ruffles, headscarves and eye-patches.

Some moments passed before Luz spotted him. There was no mistaking the dark figure that turned around on the dancefloor. He wore a close-fitting black jumpsuit that was moulded to his body to perfection. Across the chest was a gold symbol representing the sign of Gemini, the twins. It was his baroque-style papier-mâché mask, cut vertically into half profile, that was the biggest
giveaway: it represented his own face with uncanny realism. Secured above the brow with a fine black-and-gold ribbon, it was decorated with a gold frieze on the half forehead and chin. There was something eerie and fascinating about it.

He was dancing with a beautiful blonde fairy in a purple tutu of thin voile and a set of large wings made of the daintiest pink and silver gossamer studded with diamonds. She was leaning back into his arms, looking up into his face, and he was laughing. Luz guessed from their stance that they were equally charmed and was immediately struck by an almost insane jealousy that took her by surprise.

Before she had time to wonder at the violence of her reaction, a pair of gorilla hands suddenly grabbed her waist and King Kong carried her away on to the dancefloor. As they waltzed past Gemini and his graceful partner, she met Andrés’ eyes through his mask. But he made no sign of recognition – he was talking animatedly and the fairy lady was hanging on to his words, spellbound. Although he had taken no notice when they passed, Luz had the feeling that he had seen her, but was deliberately holding back. During this ‘cutting-in’ dance, King Kong had ceded his place to a handsome Cossack, who now chattered away non-stop, distracting Luz’s attention. She lost sight of Gemini but then, out of the corner of her eye, she she noticed he was no longer dancing but standing at the side of the floor, sipping a glass of champagne in the company of Cleopatra and a Roman soldier.

Dinner would soon be announced. If she could get nearer to the door of the dining room there might be a better chance of waylaying him without it looking too conspicuous. With some satisfaction Luz had deliberately left him dangling with her refusal of his dinner invitation and now she had the feeling that tonight he was turning the tables, playing her at her own game. She was quite sure that he was unaccustomed to being turned down; more likely he was in the habit of always having his own way. Well, he was in for a nasty surprise …

‘If you’ll excuse me,’ she said sweetly to her partner, ‘I think I must see to dinner.’ The Cossack, who had become somewhat proprietorial, let go of her reluctantly. Luz moved swiftly towards the dining-room door. She looked towards the spot where Gemini had been standing; he was still there. He then became hidden by taller couples and when she looked again he was gone. She scanned the crowded dancefloor but couldn’t see him among the dancers. It was difficult to spot anyone in the throng of moving disguises, even though his was so very obvious. No doubt he was sitting on the terrace, murmuring sweet nothings to some gullible belle.

BOOK: Masquerade
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