The Flesh and the Devil (5 page)

         
The quivering lips steadied, but the elder woman still
answered hesitantly.

         
'On the opposite side of the castillo. It is more
convenient for him to be lodged at a distance. He - he has his own pursuits.'

         
'I see.'

         
Juana's chin tilted a little higher. Even in the quietness
of Zuccaro she had heard tales of husbands who married their wives in the same
manner that they bought counters to gamble with, not valuing them for
themselves but for what they signified, and finding their pleasures elsewhere.
Yet this picture did not fit with the little information she had so far
gleaned; surely such a reclusive, weakwilled young man could not be a
libertine, too?

         
Her eyes travelled doubtfully, and with reluctant awe, to
her surroundings, looking at the pillared doorways, each with a carved griffin,
wings outspread and golden-collared, vaunting 'over it. So much magnificence
was crowded into this mausoleum, she thought; so many signs of wealth — could
none of it have been spared to buy the Duque de Valenzuela another, more
willing bride?

         
'What do you think of her?'

         
Eugenio de Castaneda's tone was idle. He did not look at
his wife as she entered her room, but she knew that he must have hurried there
to wait for her: that and the fidgeting of his stubby fingers round the stem of
his wine-cup gave the lie to the casual-sounding question.

         
'Very beautiful,' she answered tonelessly.

         
'And a wilful little bitch, if I am not mistaken.' De
Castaneda was frowning thoughtfully, the peevish lines round mouth and eyes
suddenly accentuated. 'Do you know, she tried to run away with the son of some
bumpkin neighbour rather than come here? And now she behaves as though she is
favouring us by corning here to wed Bartolomé!'

         
'Is she not?'

         
'Not so far as she knows, the proud little madam.' He was
deaf to the dry note in her voice. 'I grant that I was fortunate to stumble
upon the father-out there in Navarre they know little or nothing of politics and
court rumours. One of them actually boasted to me that he cared not who was on
the throne so long as he was let alone to breed horses and sheep in peace! It
is men like that who will make our fortune, Luisa.' His expression had
lightened, become eager. 'I had begun to despair - I thought the whole of Spain
must know about that damned Act of the King's, but the girl's father had never
heard of it; he did not even know of Bartolomé's existence. He was astonished
to hear of a Duque who did not keep at court.'

         
'Eugenio, you did not explain -'

         
'Tut, tut. . . .' De Castaneda's small eyes glinted with a
mixture of amusement and malevolence. 'You are forgetting that I have brought
the girl! Of course I did not explain, except to excuse the sort of life that
the boy has led. I said that he was sickly.'

         
'But the girl -'

         
'I shall make sure the marriage takes place quickly, and
coupling with Bartolomé will humble her soon enough. Then, when she has borne
him a son. . .

         
.' He broke off, tapping his teeth reflectively with his
thumbnail.

         
Dona Luisa appeared to wince very slightly. 'You are very
sure it will happen. You have been wrong before.'

         
He looked up quickly, his cheeks flushing. 'You of all
people should not remind me of that! Five dead brats - ! But the girl comes of
fertile stock, I made sure of that. There are two brothers and four sisters. So
we shall see.'

         
His wife seemed to withdraw into herself as she watched his
rapt face. She knew that look, she thought; he was making plans. She had seen
that narrow-eyed raptness just before they had left their small estate to come
here to Andalusia, before that last, worst miscarriage had robbed her not only
of their son but of the ability to bear any more children. She had thought she
detected signs of it a little before her brother Esteban's sudden death, but
she had told herself then that she was mistaken; In her quiet, remote voice,
she said, 'But what of Bartolomé? It may be that he-'

         
'He is eager enough to wed, God knows! And to make sure
that all goes well with him I have hired that doctor - the one who cured the
late Infante of the sweating sickness. He will be able to tell for sure if the
boy can succeed or no.'

         
'You could have sent for him before. Why did you not?'

         
'What, and alert the King's spies? Oh, there is one in the
household, I make no doubt - Olivares's men sprang up like toadstools while he
lived, and carry on spying for his successors. If I had called a doctor, the
King would have known within three days that there was something afoot, and we
might have bad to deal with the prying of His Grace de Medina de las Torres,
damn his soul. Besides, what need, when there was no bride in the offing? We
could not afford rumours, especially after that business with the Conde de
Maranon.'

         
He was watching her expectantly, and she knew that she must
ask the question he wanted. Smothering her inner distaste, she said, 'What
happened? You wrote that you were sure of securing his daughter. It was she 1
expected when you arrived.'

         
'Yes, and gaped like a fish at the Arrelanos girl!' he
replied spitefully. 'I came near disaster - the Conde was harder-headed than I
thought-, he wrote to his friends and uncovered some part of the truth. Oh, not
the worst!' He grinned savagely. 'No one can guess at that. But that Bartolomé
is not seen in Madrid, that his name is not mentioned at court - and he began
to question me. Did not the law require that members of the nobility require
the King's leave to marry? Would his daughter's wedding be celebrated in
Madrid? It was simpler, in the end, to find another bride than to keep
inventing answers that would satisfy him. The little Arrelanos is the daughter
of his next neighbour - not so rich, nor so meek, but much fairer.'

         
He eyed his wife belligerently, as though he dared her to
comment, and after a moment she said in a strained voice, 'But suppose this
doctor finds that Bartolomé is not well enough - that he cannot -'

         
'It matters little, once the girl is securely wedded to
him.' The meaty shoulders shrugged. 'The King is too godly a fool to set aside
the marriage sacrament, and the girl may foist on Bartolomé any man's brat she
chooses. For my part I care not whose it is so long as there is a child.'

         
He looked up quickly and gave a rough laugh at her
expression. 'You take me too seriously, my dear Luisa; I was only jesting!
Bartolomé is strong and healthy enough, I am sure. But you know how vital it is
to have an heir to his estates in direct succession, or else Torres will find
means co get them back for the Crown - and I lost my stewardship here.'

         
She nodded and be patted her hand, his eyes shrewd on her
face. Luisa was too squeamish, he was thinking: he would have to plan the next
game alone. The girl upstairs both irked and excited him, with her proudly-held
head and the pretence of indifference that thwarted him. He wanted to see her
composure shattered, her spirit broken. It was not strictly necessary, for she
would serve his turn now whatever befell, once he had her married — but for
amusement's sake. . .

         
.

         
He would give the matter some thought, he decided. It would
be a pity to risk his ace carelessly in a minor game when the main one promised
so well. But, so long as he chose his cards with due care. . .

         
He realized that his wife was looking at him oddly, and
quickly brought his thoughts back to the present, fixing her with a limpidly
enquiring stare that made her colour and look away. It was a ploy that always
worked.

         
'So it seems that you have succeeded in finding our nephew
a wife at last,'

         
she murmured.

         
'Provided I can patch up - the ceremony without delay the
boy will be beside himself when he hears!' De Castaneda pulled a face, clowning
now. 'He did not brook the last disappointment lightly. They can meet tomorrow,
and we shall hold the betrothal ceremony the next day.'

         
'What if-he does not like her?‘ Her words were very faint.

         
'My dear, you saw her! He will be at her feet!' At her
skirts more like, he amended silently, but aloud he said, 'Bartolomé would be a
strange thing indeed if he refused so delicate a creature for his bed.'

         
'And if she does not. . . like . . . him?'

         
He grinned wolfishly. 'As to that, I have her father's
written consent to the marriage, so what can she do? She incensed him by trying
to run off, and I was able to persuade him to grant me custody of her-as well
as to stay away until she was married, to show his displeasure. You
underestimate me, Luisa - I always get what I want, and I want this marriage.'

         
His eyes were feverishly bright as he smiled at her, then
he downed the rest of his wine at a gulp and put the empty cup in her hands. At
that moment, with his rounded cheeks flushed and his expression challenging, he
reminded Dona Luisa of the eager, ambitious youth she had married.

         
She turned away hastily to set the cup on a nearby table,
saying, 'And you think you can achieve it without the King' s consent?'

         
'I shall not do it with the King's consent— not while this
King lives! We shall contrive somehow. The longer we can keep all secret, the
safer we shall be.

         
'He pinched his lower lip between finger and thumb. 'Torres
is safe in Madrid -I made sure of that on my way back from Navarre - and if we
make haste, the marriage can be solemnized before he can learn that I have
taken a journey.' He patted her thin shoulder as if she were a dog. 'Never
fear! One of my best arts is the keeping of secrets.'