Authors: Anne Mather
Consuelo eyed the young man with twinkling eyes. 'You are late, Miguel!'
Miguel raised his shoulders indignantly. The plane has just landed - is this not right,
senhorita
?' he appealed to Juliet.
Juliet nodded, fingering the strap of her handbag, and Miguel seemed to realize her position, for he said: 'Senhorita Summers, this is Consuelo Rodrigues, housekeeper to the Duque, and my mother's cousin.'
Juliet smiled, and made a perfunctory greeting, and Consuelo folded her arms. 'Welcome to the Quinta de Castro,
senhorita
. I hope you will be very happy here.'
'Why - thank you.' Juliet moved uncomfortably. This was her first taste of being an employee and she was not aware of what was expected of her.
'The Senhorita's room is ready?' questioned Miguel. 'I think she would like to wash and relax for a while before meeting the Duque.'
Consuelo gave a vigorous nod. 'Everything is ready.
Muito obrigado
, Miguel. I can manage now. Jose is waiting for you in the orchard.'
Miguel smiled once more at Juliet.
C
I will probably see you later,
senhorita
,' and then he turned and went out through the wide doors.
Juliet sighed after he had gone. His friendliness had been a kind of balm, and now she felt tense and nervous again. Not that Consuelo was an alarming person. With her round, ample girth and beaming face, she seemed amiable enough, and when she picked up two of Juliet's cases and made for the stairs, indicating that Juliet should follow her, Juliet picked up her hand luggage and did so.
The shallow staircase was lined with portraits, and Juliet stared at them, entranced. There were dark, swarthy men and camellia-skinned women, single portraits and family groups, with children dressed in heavy velvets and satins, totally unsuited to the hot Venterra climate. Juliet wondered how long there had been Duques de Castro on the island. Probably for hundreds of years, since the first Spaniards discovered the West Indies. It was a period of history that had always interested her, and her thoughts occupied her to the exclusion of everything else.
Consuelo surged ahead, but Juliet had barely reached the curve of the stairs when footsteps sounded across the tiled courtyard and entered the hall below. She looked down curiously, when a man appeared, wondering who he might be. Tall, dark-haired and deeply'tanned, a midnight blue silk shirt open at the throat to reveal the smooth column of his neck rising from the rippling muscles of his chest, he was easily the most attractive male Juliet had ever seen, and she couldn't help but stare until he turned icy grey eyes in her direction.
'Por deus!'
he swore angrily. 'Miguel was right! Come down here,
senhorita!'
There was no please or thank you, no apparent sign of anything remotely resembling politeness, and Juliet froze with indignation. The man tapped a slender riding whip against the highly polished leather of his boot.
'Did you hear what I
said
senhorita?'
he
asked coldly. 'I am not used to being kept waiting!'
Consuelo had turned now and was coming back down the stairs. 'This is Senhorita Summers,
senhor,'
she said, by way of an introduction.
Juliet stiffened. This then must be her employer, the Duque de Castro. Oh lord, she thought dismally, isn't he charming!
'I am aware of the young woman's name!' the man snapped. '
Senhorita!
Are you paralysed, or merely petrified!'
Juliet felt something flare up inside her at his arrogant words. Just who did he think he was? Just who did he think he was talking to? For a moment she was tempted to reveal her real identity. After all, Robert Lindsay's was a name to be reckoned with in financial circles. And then the temptation died. She doubted whether anything she might say in that direction would achieve more than her instant dismissal. This man lived many miles away from the mercenary capitals of the world, and obviously considered himself a law unto himself.
But she did not intend that he should see that he had either annoyed or disturbed her. With the control of years of training she slowly descended the staircase,
;
until she made contact with the marble floor of the hall. At this level, he was even more overpowering. Tall herself, he was still much taller, with a width of shoulder and a litheness of movement not out of place in an athlete.
'I am neither paralysed nor petrified,
senhor
,' she said, with more confidence than she was feeling. 'I gather you are my employer.'
The man looked down at her with narrowed eyes. 'I am the Duque Felipe Ricardo de Castro,
senhorita. I
do not recall employing
you!
'
For a moment Juliet was nonplussed. Then, gathering her scattered wits, she said: 'I do not understand,
senhor
. I was employed by a firm of solicitors in London, as companion to your niece, a Senhorita Teresa de Castro.'
The man studied her insolently for a moment, then turned to Consuelo. 'You knew about this, Consuelo?
'
'Sim, senhor!'
'Since when?
'
he thundered angrily.
'Since two hours ago, Felipe,
'
remarked a cool voice from the direction of the door which led to the outer patio.
Juliet glanced round and saw a small, slim, attractive woman standing there, dark, like the Duque, with smooth dark hair that clung to the curve of her head like a cap. She was dressed in a delicate shade of cyclamen, and looked cool and sophisticated. She smiled warmly at Juliet, and wrinkled her nose at the Duque.
'Darling, don't be cross,' she continued. 'You know Teresa needs somebody.
'
The Duque snapped his fingers furiously. 'I know that you wait until I go riding before telling
my
staff to expect a visitor about whom I know absolutely nothing!
'
He moved restlessly. 'It is not six months since you employed that American girl, Laura Weston, and after that fiasco I refused to consider anyone else. You knew this, Estelle !
'
'Querido
, you are embarrassing Senhorita Summers. At least let us have this conversation in private. Consuelo, take Senhorita Summers to her room, and I will speak to the Duque.
'
'Sim, senhora!'
Consuelo turned, but Juliet felt frozen to the spot. This was something neither she nor Rosemary had envisaged. Was her carefully planned ruse to fail because the advertisement had been placed without the Duque
'
s knowledge or condolence? She felt almost numb with incredulity.
Now the Duque turned his dark eyes on her again. He studied her for a moment longer, and then without a word turned and strode across the hall and entered a room at the far side, slamming the door after him.
The woman he had called Estelle continued to look unperturbed. 'Go with Consuelo,
senhorita.
Do not concern yourself with these matters. I can assure you, your job is not in jeopardy.'
Juliet moved at last, and followed Consuelo stiffly up the staircase. She wished she felt as certain. All she could remember was the blatant fury in the man's grey eyes, and the force of his attraction which had hit her like magnetism.
H
ER
room overlooked the sea, with a balcony on which was a long, low lounger where it would be heaven to sit on hot days. The room, decorated in shades of blue and green and grey, with a bathroom to match, was luxurious and comfortable.
Consuelo stood down her cases, and looked at her with her smiling eyes. This is all right,
senhorita?'
'Oh, yes, thank you, Consuelo. It's wonderful. But—' She halted, and Consuelo looked at her sympathetically.
'The
senhora
means what she says,' she said understanding. 'The Duque will not dismiss you without reason.'
Juliet sighed and sank down on to the bed. 'But - well, the Duque apparently didn't even know I was coming!'
'No,
senhorita.'
Juliet frowned. 'That woman - who is she? Is that his wife?'
Consuelo laughed, folding her arms across her heavy breasts. 'No,
senhorita.
The Duque is not married. The Senhora Vinceiro is the widow of his cousin, Pepe. She lives here on Venterra, not far from the
quinta!'
'I see.' Juliet shook her head, still feeling rather bewildered. 'When - when will I see the Senhorita Teresa?'
'Whenever you are ready,
senhorita.
Senhorita. Teresa is with Senhorita Madison at the moment. She has been acting as both nurse and companion since Senhorita Weston was dismissed.'
Juliet had so many questions she wanted to ask. She wanted to know about this fiasco the Duque had spoken about, she wanted to know why Laura Weston had been dismissed, she wanted to know exactly what influence this Estelle Vinceiro had in the
quinta.
She felt almost amused as she recalled her thoughts on the journey here. They had been wholly to do with the problems she had left behind. She had not known she was coming to face far more.
Consuelo moved to the door. 'It is now a little after twelve,
senhorita.
I suggest I bring your lunch to your room, to enable you to unpack and relax for a while. After siesta, which the Senhorita Teresa always takes in her room, I will come and take you to have afternoon tea with her,
sim?'
Juliet rose to her feet again. 'That sounds delightful, Consuelo, thank you.' She twisted her fingers nervously. 'Do you - do you think the Duque will want to see me again?'
Consuelo spread wide her hands in a typical continental gesture. 'Who can say,
senhorita?
But if you arresting he will not ask me to disturb you. So - I go. If you need anything, ring the bell.'
After Consuelo had gone, Juliet lifted her cases and threw them on the bed. Then she removed the jacket of her suit, and walked lazily on to the balcony. Although she had not been travelling very long this morning, she suddenly felt drained of energy, and she sat down on the lounger and lit a cigarette before attempting to do anything.
In a while, the events of the last few minutes assumed rather less serious proportions, as she saw the amusing side of it all. What a situation! She wished Rosemary were here to share it with her.
A tap at the door heralded the arrival of a young maidservant with a tray containing her lunch. There was a fresh fruit cocktail, pork fried with rice, and a kind of ice cream gateau, followed by coffee and more fruit. It was a very delicious meal, and after she had finished, Juliet felt a little more like work. She opened her cases, hung away her clothes in a capacious fitted wardrobe, and then went into the bathroom to shower before resting on her bed for a while. She had closed her window shutters, and the light slatted through the blinds cast dancing shadows on the ceiling. She watched them for a while, and then her eyelids drooped and she slept.
She awoke refreshed, but startled, with a firm tapping going on at her door. Sliding off the bed, she wrapped herself in a nylon wrapper and opened the door about six inches. Consuelo was outside.
'It is after four,
senhorita.
I have told the Senhorita Teresa you are to have tea with her.'
'Lord!' Juliet gasped. 'I'm sorry, Consuelo, I'm not ready. Will you wait five minutes?'
'Very well,
senhorita,'
Consuelo agreed, but she sounded less than pleased.
Juliet fumbled her way into a white crimplene dress, sleeveless, with a high cuffed neckline, and not tooshort a skirt. Her hair, immaculately pleated earlier, now hung in wisps and with careless fingers she wrenched out the hairgrips and brushed it savagely. It fell, thick and straight to her shoulders, sherry-coloured and very attractive. Cursing to herself for sleeping so long, she began to wind it back into its pleat, when Consuelo tapped again.
'Senhorita
,' she said persistently, 'please hurry.'
Juliet lost control of the hair, and it fell loose again. 'Oh, blast, blast, blast!' she exclaimed angrily, and then with decision, she combed it smooth and looked at her reflection disconsolately. It was no good. She needed plenty of time and patience to dress it in the pleat, and anyway, she might be going to get the sack, so what did it matter?
She emerged from the bedroom and Consuelo looked at her in surprise. 'Such pretty hair,
senhorita,'
she exclaimed delightedly.
Juliet looked rueful. 'But rather impractical,' she said, smiling. 'I'm sorry I kept you waiting, Consuelo. I fell asleep, I'm afraid.'
Consuelo seemed unperturbed now. 'It is the climate,' she said, firmly. 'Most have the siesta! It is a good idea,
sim?'
'Hmm,' agreed Juliet enthusiastically, feeling more ready to face any challenge which might come her way.
They descended the main staircase to the wide hall, and then out on to the patio that surrounded the central Courtyard. The patio was tiled with mosaic in a variety of colours, while tubs of flamboyants and the ever-present climbing bougainvillea added their own tropical beauty to the scene. A glass-topped table supported a jug, some ice cubes and several glasses, and beside this table a girl was sitting in a wheelchair, glancing carelessly through a magazine. As though aware of another presence, she turned and looked at Juliet, and Consuelo murmured something about getting the tea and left them.
The girl was dark, like her uncle, with long hair worn in a single braid over one shoulder. But her expression was remote and perhaps a little sulky, and Juliet advanced towards her with some trepidation.
'Hello,' she said, in a friendly fashion. 'You must be Teresa. My name is - Rosemary.' She almost slipped up altogether and said Juliet.
The girl viewed her critically, putting aside her magazine. 'Who else would I be?' she asked pointedly, glancing down at the wheelchair.
Juliet drew a little closer. 'Yes, perhaps it was a stupid remark. However, I couldn't think of any other way of introducing myself.'
Teresa's eyes flickered for a moment, and then she resumed her sullen expression. 'Where have you come from? London?'