The Golden Madonna (16 page)

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Authors: Rebecca Stratton

BOOK: The Golden Madonna
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She made no effort to resist the wild feeling of exultation that swept her along, uncaring, but reached up with her hands to pull his dark head even closer. The lean, hard urgency of his body seemed to possess her until she could think of nothing else but the ecstasy of the moment and the delirious joy of belonging to him.

Not even the sudden opening of the studio door meant anything for several moments and then it was Sally who became aware that they were no longer alone. She fought for breath to tell him, while Miguel whispered her name over and over again, his voice muffled by the thick softness of her hair.

'Miguel!' The harsh voice, the imperious tone could belong only to Ines Valdaquez, and Sally's heart skipped in sudden panic when she recognised it.

She used her hands to push herself away from Miguel, and looked at the Spanish girl standing in the doorway. Her dark eyes blazed with such fury that Sally shivered, and looked at Miguel appealingly.

He put her away from him with a gesture so slow as to be reluctant, and his hastily assumed calm would have fooled her if she had not been near enough to feel the passion and intensity that still emanated from him and made her tremble.

'What is it that you want, Ines?' he asked, and his quiet question came as a shock to her, if her expression was anything to judge by, while Sally marvelled at his iron self-control.

Harsh-voiced, Ines poured out a spate of rapid Spanish, her eyes gleaming darkly and her mouth twisting into a tight, cruel look that made Sally more apprehensive than ever. She had suspected, more than once, that Ines Valdaquez would make a formidable enemy, and unless she was very much mistaken, she was now due to discover just how formidable.

When Miguel spoke again, Sally looked at him in surprise, for he answered in Spanish, and normally, when any of the English party were present, he always spoke English, so that they were not excluded. His use of his native tongue now dismayed her, especially as he appeared to be making some sort of an explanation. For him to find it necessary to explain the situation to Ines Valdaquez was bad enough, but to have him do it in a language he knew she could not understand was worse.

She looked at him for a moment with wide, hurt eyes, then she shook back her hair from her face, her mouth trembling when she spoke, cutting across his words. 'I'll go,' she said, hoping her voice did not betray too much of what she was feeling. 'I have to change for dinner, and I'm late already.'

'No, Sarita!'

He put a hand on her arm to stay her, but Sally evaded him, quickly moving away and almost running towards the door. To get out of the room, however, she had to wait for Ines Valdaquez to move out of her way and, for the moment, the Spanish girl looked like holding her ground firmly.

'Please——' Sally began, and the dark eyes blazed furiously.

She did not catch the word that was spat at her viciously in Spanish, but its meaning was plain enough and so was the hand that reached out and grabbed a handful of her hair, tugging viciously hard as she was swung round by it and almost brought to her knees.

'Ines!'

He was across the room in a flash, with his dark face stormy, black eyes blazing at his cousin. Sally, recovering, stared at her wide-eyed, for the attack had been both vicious and unexpected and she wished now only to escape as quickly as she could.

'Please don't!' she begged Miguel when he would have taken her hands, and with a swift glance at her attacker she turned and ran down the narrow stairs. It was only as she gained the passageway at the bottom that she was reminded that this was the second time in a couple of weeks that she had fled from Miguel's studio with her emotions shattered and in a state of complete chaos.

 

Sally said nothing to Michael about her treatment at the hands of Ines Valdaquez, nor of the way she had fled from the studio with angry voices ringing in her ears. She had been aware during dinner last night, that things could not go on as they were. She must never again stay alone with him, but leave whenever Dona Alicia did, as her common sense had urged her to last night.

Miguel had shown little sign of the incident as he sat at the head of the table, although he had looked more stern-faced and hard-eyed than usual, so that the one time that she inadvertently caught his eye, she hastily lowered her own gaze.

This morning, however, things seemed to be very different. All during breakfast Michael showed signs of being full of something that he was bursting to tell her about, although he made no attempt to tell her at the table. It struck Sally in a sudden awful moment to wonder if the news of last night's episode had reached the ears of the rest of the household.

The thought of such a thing happening made her stomach crawl with embarrassment, but her consolation lay in the fact that whatever it was that Michael knew, he was quite cheerful about it, and that would not have been the case if he had heard about her and Miguel.

Her and Miguel. She felt the colour warm her cheeks when she even thought about it, and she wondered if Ines would have told Dona Alicia about it. Certainly the older woman was much quieter and less communicative than usual this morning, she would have sworn it. Perhaps Dona Alicia too had hopes of a marriage between her son and Ines Valdaquez.

A swift, wary glance at. the Spanish girl had revealed a face more woebegone than haughty this morning, and there were unmistakable signs of weeping rimming her dark eyes. Miguel, Sally thought, would be as ruthless in punishment as he was in everything else, and she actually felt sorry for Ines Valdaquez.

With breakfast over, there was usually time for a stroll round the
patio
before they were needed for the morning session, and Sally always enjoyed it. The scents of the flowers and the cool, tinkling sound of the water in the fountain had a soothing effect on her, and she did not really want to have Michael regale her with whatever it was he was bottling up so impatiently.

She had little choice, however, for he took her arm in a firm grip and led her to a wrought iron seat beneath one of the palms, with an air that was both insistent and purposeful. He sat her down and turned beside her on the seat to put an arm along behind her.

'I have some news to impart,' he said, and looked at her expectantly with a gleam in his blue eyes.

'I thought you must have,' Sally told him with a wry smile. 'You looked about ready to burst all the time you were eating breakfast.'

'Did I?' He laughed, then reached out and took one of her hands in his. 'The
senora
is leaving,' he pronounced solemnly, and Sally stared at him for a moment unbelievingly.

'Ines?' she said, and Michael nodded.

'Bag and baggage—she's been slung out on her . proud Spanish neck.'

Sally still stared at him, unable to absorb it yet, but with a cold sense of realisation slowly forming in her stomach. 'But how do you know?' she asked.

She thought of Ines Valdaquez's woebegone features and the traces of tears round her eyes, and her heart began a rapid tattoo against her ribs. It wasn't possible, she told herself, it just wasn't possible that it could be because of what had happened up there in the studio.

'Well, aren't you pleased she's going?' Michael demanded, obviously peeved because she was not showing the enthusiasm he expected her to. 'You've never liked her, darling, I thought you'd be glad to see the back of her.'

'I—I don't care for her very much,' Sally admitted. But I wouldn't want' She bit on her lip hastily. The less said to Michael at this moment, the better, and it was quite possible that there was some other reason for Ines Valdaquez to be leaving the Casa de Principes.

'Well, anyway,' Michael went on, anxious to impart the rest of his news, 'Dick, as you know speaks Spanish, and he overheard an almighty row last night when he was out on the
patio
before he went to bed. It was mostly Ines and the Maestro, so he says. Apparently Dona Alicia was there too, but she didn't say much—the other two were going at it hammer and tongs.'

'And he stayed and listened!' Sally said scornfully.

'Well, he couldn't help overhearing, 'Michael said defensively. 'Naturally he was interested, and so should I have been if I could have understood what was being said.' He looked at her a little crossly, as if he did not understand her reticence. 'I must say I thought
you'd
be a bit more interested than you appear to be.'

'It—it doesn't really concern any of us,' she said. 'What Don Miguel and his family do is their own affair.'

Michael frowned at her impatiently. 'Oh, for heaven's sake, darling, don't be so prissy! Just because you've got that bee in your bonnet about not liking the Maestro, you don't have to act as if the comings and goings are of no interest at all to you.' He kissed her lightly on her left cheek. 'It seems the Maestro's been up to his tricks again!'

'Oh, Michael, please!' Hearing him say that, and with such obvious relish, made her stomach crawl and she wished she need not hear any more of this distasteful gossip, but it was too much to hope that she would be spared the rest of it, having gone so far.

'He's been dallying with some fair maid and Senora Ines doesn't approve—naturally,' Michael went on with a suggestive grin that put Sally's teeth on edge. 'Dick says she was fair boiling with fury, and the Maestro was giving her a right royal dressing down.'

Sally looked down at her hands lying tightly clasped together in her lap, the thickness of her ; lashes concealing the expression in her eyes. 'Did— did Dick hear who the lady was?' she queried, almost afraid to ask, and he chuckled.

'I knew you'd be interested,' he said. 'But according to Senora Ines, whoever she is, she's no lady! But you could say she was prejudiced, of course. Anyway,' he sighed his satisfaction, 'eventually the Maestro told her to leave.'

'She'd been crying this morning,' Sally said quietly, and Michael nodded.

'She probably hoped for a reprieve in the cold light of day,' he guessed. 'But knowing the Maestro, he wouldn't budge once he'd made up his mind.'

Sally looked up at him, wondering if she knew him as well as she had always supposed she did. 'And don't you feel any pity for her at all?' she asked.

Michael shrugged. 'Why should I?'

'Because,' Sally said softly, 'she's very much in love with him.'

'Then she should know better!' Michael retorted. 'No woman in her right mind would expect to hold a man like the Maestro for life. He's an artist first and foremost, and that's what matters most to him.'

Sally knew the words were true, but somehow her heart refused to accept it. She had read somewhere once that no woman will ever admit that any man is immune from the lure of her sex, and the more reluctant
HE
is, the more determined
SHE
is. Perhaps it was only that age-old reluctance to admit that Don Miguel was unattainable, but she thought not, and put a hand to touch the spot at the base of her throat where the warmth of his mouth still seemed to linger.

She must have sighed, unconsciously, because Michael was looking at her a little strangely, his blue eyes questioning her quiet, almost sad mood this morning. One hand touched her neck and he moved a little closer to her on the seat.

'What's wrong, darling?' he asked, and Sally looked startled for a moment, then shook her head with a smile.

'Nothing's wrong,' she told him. 'I'm just a bit tired and edgy, that's all.'

'Is that modelling business too much for you?' he asked. 'If it is you must give it up.'

'I couldn't do that,' Sally said with a smile.

'How did you get on?' he asked. 'I didn't ask last night because you seemed a bit—silent, and I didn't want you to explode. I thought maybe you'd been— well, arguing.'

'We hadn't,' Sally denied. 'It went quite well, I think. He's only sketching at the moment, of course, but he seems to have done quite a lot.'

'No problems?'

Too easily suspicious, Sally looked at him for a moment, but there seemed to be no hidden meaning behind the question, and she shook her head. 'No, no problems,' she said. 'Except that I have to learn to sit still for long periods at a time, and it can be a bit wearing until one gets used to it.'

'I can imagine,' he said sympathetically. 'Did he give you any idea of how long he'd need you?'

Sally reached out and took the falling petals from a rose and held them in her hand for a moment, gazing at them thoughtfully before she answered. 'It's going to take quite a long time, Michael,' she said at last. 'Maybe longer than the time we have here.'

'I expected it would,' Michael said. 'But he won't need you for the whole time. It's not like a personal portrait, you know, he can use someone else's hands and everything. It's been done before.'

Sally said nothing for several minutes, but held the rose petals to her face and inhaled their fragrance. 'I know it can be done like that,' she said after a while. 'But I promised I'd stay on, until it's finished.'

'You' He stared at her unbelievingly. 'What on earth possessed you to do that?' he demanded. 'Have you gone quite crazy, darling?'

Sally's cheeks had a flushed and rosy look, and there was a defensive gleam in her blue eyes when she looked up at him. 'No, I haven't gone crazy,' she denied. 'But I want to see it through, Michael, all the way through. I don't want some—some other woman's body put on to my face. I want to do it all. It's my Madonna as much as it is Miguel's!'

Michael gazed at her for a moment, as if he could not believe what he heard, then he shook his head, and there was a dark, speculative gleam in his eyes and a firmer look about his mouth. 'You've had a change of heart, haven't you?' he said. 'If you don't watch your step, darling, you'll have Senora Firebomb wanting to scratch your eyes out too!'

CHAPTER NINE

I
T
was a relief, Sally admitted it, when Dona Alicia appeared to be more her usual self at lunchtime. She talked as usual and with no sign of being upset about anything, although her eyes did stray several times to her son, at the head of the table. What she really thought about last night's episode with Ines Valdaquez, Sally could only guess, but judging by her manner, she attached no sort of blame to Sally for what had occurred.

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