The House of Adriano (17 page)

During the next week he telephoned her twice, and although she refused to take more time off the first time he rang, on the second occasion Dona Teresa insisted that the hours Peter spent in the schoolroom at least should be regarded by Aileen as free time. Any other times, such as in the evening, it could be arranged that Vanetta kept a watch on the boy should Aileen wish to go out. Aileen thanked her, but resolved that she would make use of Vanetta as little as she could. After all, she was here on a job, tenuous and undefined as her duties might be. She did not want it said at any future time - by Duarte? - that she had lost sight of the reason for her being at Marindos.

The engagement party seemed to come around surprisingly quickly. Bart, she learned, was not to be there, so it would probably be an entirely Spanish atmosphere.

She found that she was a little curious to see the newly engaged pair, wondering how they would appear, brought together in this arranged marriage. She tried to place herself in the position of the engaged girl. How did a girl feel facing the knowledge that soon the closest tie of all would bind her to a man her family had chosen and who, presumably, she did not love. How would she feel also facing the knowledge that she must give herself, without love, to that man? Surely she would detect shrinking in the eyes of the young bride-to-be? She knew she could never have been able to do such a thing herself, but it probably all depended on the outlook one had grown up with. Probably this Spanish girl regarded it as quite normal.

On the afternoon of the party Aileen followed the usual custom of a siesta, more than ever necessary when she realised she was unlikely to be in bed before three or four o’clock in the morning. She had never thought she would be able to sleep during the day, but the heat did make one rather drowsy, and although in Sydney she had worked through temperatures almost as high, the necessity to keep going had not made it quite so noticeable.

In the evening Vanetta laid out the dress bought specially for the occasion - a dreadful extravagance, Aileen had considered, since she had bought one new evening dress only a short time before, but as her high salary was presumably to enable her to dress well she had gone on another of those shopping expeditions
-
extremely pleasant expeditions, it must be admitted.

This time the dress was of a very pale turquoise, impregnated with some kind of silver dust that was not immediately apparent, but shimmered as she moved. With it she wore a pendant necklace of her mother’s, a pear-shaped pearl on a fine gold chain. She had no fears that anyone would smile superciliously - Alesandra was the person she thought of - silently revealing that she knew it was imitation, because the pearl was real, the one thing that had been saved from the old days. Her mother had refused to part with it, because it had been her husband’s wedding present to her.

With her silver hair brushed into a gleaming cap and the turquoise stole she had bought in Melbourne thrown around her shoulders - that piece of extravagance that misery and dislike of Duarte had led her into - even Aileen had to admit that she looked “rather nice”, but Vanetta was far more voluble in her admiration, chattering away in Spanish, so quickly that Aileen did not
u
nderstand her.

Dona Teresa smiled at her, nodding her still sleekly dark head in approval.

“Very beautiful, my child. You look like captive sea foam.” She smiled her impish smile. “I can see that you will be much in demand tonight. Our so very dark men have an appreciation of such fairness.”

Aileen could not help blushing a little - and she wished that Duarte had not chosen that
moment to enter the room, but luckily he did not seem to have overhead Dona Teresa’s remark, although she did notice that his eyes went over her with that peculiar closed-up and enigmatic expression she had noticed once or twice before, then he was bowing to Dona Teresa with that courtly grace which was so much a part of him, raising her hand to his lips with a smiling, soft remark which Aileen did not catch, but which apparently made Dona Teresa smile in return; then she felt his eyes on her again, that smiling glance a little teasing, as if he had forgotten, or chosen to disregard for the moment, that he had accused her of finding his presence a nuisance.

“I think you will need all that determination of yours to retain your independence,
peqtiena.
Tonight someone may conceive the idea that he would do well to capture this sea maid for himself.”

So he had heard after all. She felt the quick flush rise to her face again, quite involuntarily, but managed to answer lightly. “Would he have to apply to you for permission?”

Before Duarte could reply, Dona Teresa laughed delightedly, “Ah - and if you refused,
mio sobrino,
I think you would find yourself in much trouble.”

He nodded, with a touch of that urbane charm he could assume so well. “I think that I would not dare to refuse.”

“Wouldn’t you?” Aileen retorted. “I’m sure that you would.”

It would not be a question of daring. He would merely take it as a natural right. Still, he could be charming as well as infuriating, so perhaps that lord of creation attitude was more bearable than it had once seemed.

Dona
Teresa’s mischievous smile crossed her face again. “You think that our men take too much on themselves?” she asked with happy tactlessness - or not so much tactlessness, Aileen was sure, but more an impish delight in clashing two such opposing outlooks. However, whatever Aileen might have replied, Duarte spoke first.

“Perhaps that question should remain unanswered. I think that I sense the beginning of an armistice, and it would be most
unwise to spoil it.”

He smiled at her as he said that, the brilliant, disturbing smile that could make everything inside her turn right over. Careful, she told herself. Careful of what?

Shortly afterwards they went out to the car which was to take them to the Zarpeta house. In construction it was very much like Marindos, as if it might have built at about the same period of history, when a certain architectural design was in favour. Marita Zarpeta turned out to be a lovely young girl of eighteen and her
fianc
é
a slender young man who could not have been more than three or four years older - but what astonished Aileen was the fact that there was not the faintest sign of shrinking in the lovely dark eyes when Marita looked at Juan Desco, her
fiancé
. Considering that it was an arranged marriage, she seemed to be taking it not just philosophically but even willingly. Perhaps sometimes love came after all, to make things like that bearable.

“Something puzzles you?” Duarte’s voice enquired at her side, and Aileen realised that he had come up to her unseen and unheard.

“No ... not exactly.” She could not put in words what was in her mind, but he seemed to guess it in some way.

“Ah ... it is the little Marita who puzzles you. You find it rather different from what you had expected ... no shrinking and no unwillingness.”

“You mean that it wasn’t just an arranged marriage after all?”

“No. It was arranged in the usual way.
”
There was just something faintly mocking in the dark eyes now.

“And they fell in love afterwards, you mean?”

“Perhaps - but love does not come to all, and for those nature sometimes proves a substitute.”

“A ... substitute?”

A moment later she realised what he had meant and could have bitten out her tongue.

He shrugged and this time seemed to be perfectly serious as he spoke. There was not a trace of anything mocking in either his voice or his expression.

“But of course. A man and woman who are both young and attractive should find little hardship in physical relationship. Nature has arranged it so.”

Try as she could Aileen could not stop the hot flush rising to her face. It was moments like these that made her realise the difference in their backgrounds, not just wealth and social position, but in actual outlook on life. It was thought nothing of to speak quite openly of physical love, without any embarrassment or the idea that it was something that should never be mentioned. It was a natural occurrence, part of life. At first glance it might contrast strangely with their strict conventions, but on the other hand perhaps it also explained them. They acknowledged the strength of human emotions and put up a barrier of convention so that those emotions were not given a chance to become too strong.

Quite apart from the fact of whether or not their view of human emotions might be the best attitude towards it, Aileen could still not control her own embarrassment, because a conversation such as this was something that could never have occurred between, say, Paul and herself, or even Bart, who was outspoken enough in his own way.

Just when she was hoping that she might be able to cover up what she was feeling and reply in some natural manner, Duarte became aware of her embarrassment and a faint trace of sardonic amusement returned to his expression.

“Your pardon. It seems I shock you. I had forgotten for a moment that in other countries these matters are regarded in an entirely different light.”

“You didn’t exactly shock me,” Aileen defended herself, rather hesitantly. “It was just that ... that it sounded so primitive somehow.”

“Perhaps - but isn’t nature itself, and even love, something primitive?” He made a quick gesture with one of those strong, finely shaped hands. “Even love needs physical attraction to be part of it.” His seriousness disappeared and for the second time in minutes the faintly sardonic smile hovered around his well-cut lips. “Ah, but again I forget. We talk from opposite sides of the fence. You do not believe in love, and physical attraction is something that may not be mentioned. We shall then talk of something quite innocuous,” and he did just that,
but Aileen hardly heard him, because she was struggling with some of the things he had said.

Love was primitive, of course, and part of age-old nature. Like the rain, when it decided to come nothing could stop it. Physical attraction too was all part of the same thing, although that surely would not be so powerful as love itself, because physical attraction passed. Nevertheless, many people probably did mistake it for love and married, even then still being happy when the first hectic attraction had worn off. The classic example of love, of course, was the one single person one was destined for, but if fate arranged it that the two people concerned should be on opposite sides of the world with no chance of ever meeting, they would never know what they had missed and would probably be quite happy with second best, never knowing that it was second best. The human race had to continue, and not everyone could find the one single person destined for them, so, as Duarte had said, nature had arranged a substitute. No doubt it had happened like that with Marita and her
fianc
é
. The marriage had been arranged, and because she had been brought up that way, Marita had acquiesced, then nature had started her insidious little war, playing on the latent attraction between a man and a woman - and how was anyone to judge really whether Marita and Juan might have found the substitute or love itself? Only they could know that.

No doubt Duarte himself accepted that same attitude. He had been brought up to the same tradition and in time he would no doubt contract the usual marriage of convenience - or it might not be that any more. Alesandra was lovely enough for any man to love, even Duarte Adriano. She was the type of wife he should marry, so no doubt he felt very pleased with the way his life had arranged itself. He had not asked her yet - at least, it was not yet official - but presumably he would do so soon, and then there would be triumph in Alesandra’s lovely dark eyes. Everyone would be happy - all except Aileen Lawrence, who for some odd reason was beginning to feel that she would not be in the least happy about it.

Alesandra was there, of course, darkly beautiful in a white dress and what were probably real diamonds. As always the dark girl’s manner was perfectly courteous and friendly, but once again Aileen was conscious of that hidden hostility.

Did Alesandra really think Aileen constituted some sort of a threat to her? she wondered incredulously. Just because she had the idea that Dona Teresa might like the other girl more than the one Duarte seemed to have more or less chosen as his future wife? Surely she realised that, whatever Dona Teresa’s feelings in the matter, they would make no difference? The choice Was Duarte’s alone, and if he picked Alesandra - and it seemed obvious that he would - then that was the end of the matter.

Whether it was the end of the matter or not, it was made quite clear to her later that evening that Alesandra did not intend to have her about the place after she married Duarte. As far as she was concerned, the sooner Peter Balgare settled into his new home the better. There would then be no reason for his former guardian to stay at Marindos.

One of the rooms had been put aside for a ladies’ cloakroom, and shortly after dinner Aileen went there to freshen her makeup. At the time she entered the room was empty, but she had only been there for a few minutes when Alesandra came in. She seemed to hesitate in the doorway, then came forward with what was apparently a frank and friendly smile, but once again intuition told Aileen that the smile was very far from being frank and it certainly was not friendly underneath.

“Ah, Se
n
orita Lawrence. It is the first time we have met alone, is it not?”