Sweet Revenge (7 page)

Eventually she washed, combed her hair into a knot on top of her head, and dressed in a semi-flared blue skirt and navy shirt blouse. The skirt was the shortest in her wardrobe, and she wore it deliberately. At least the Conde should not have the satisfaction of seeing that she was afraid of him.

She descended the stairs, ignoring the jelly-like feeling in her legs with difficulty, and entered the lounge rather apprehensively. To her relief only Paul was there standing by the bar drinking a glass of wine appreciatively. He was smoking a long continental cigarette which he waved at her languidly. 'Hi, Janet,' he said. 'This wine can be really enjoyable, you know!'

'Paul, I want to talk to you,' she said without preamble.

He shrugged his shoulders. 'Do you? Say, I like that outfit. Makes you look really something!'

Toni gave him an exasperated look. 'Paul, this is serious. I want to leave here today, at once!'

Paul's expression changed from one of lazy indolence to disturbed irritation. 'Why? What has Francesca said now? I'll tan her hide when I get my hands on her!'

'Not Francesca,' said Toni, shaking her head. 'I can handle Francesca. Are you aware that your Uncle Raoul is here?'

Paul started. 'Raoul!' he echoed.

'Yes, the Conde.' Toni linked her fingers. 'Oh, give me a cigarette. Believe me, I need one. And you - you are the biggest liar I know!'

Paul looked uncomfortable. 'What do you mean?'

'You know damn nicely what I mean,' exclaimed Toni, leaning forward to light her cigarette from the lighter he proffered. 'Before dinner last evening I learned the reason why you were in such a hurry to arrive here with a fiancee.'

'What!'

'Yes; now say it isn't money! That is the reason, isn't it? Oh, don't bother to deny it. I can tell from your face that I'm right. Honestly, what do you think lam?'

Paul looked a little shamefaced. 'I don't see why you're getting so het up about it,' he muttered sulkily. 'It doesn't make any difference to you. You're still having a free holiday, and my reasons are my own and no one else's.'

Toni's eyes blazed. 'You're a positive menace, Paul,' she stormed angrily. 'You've succeeded in getting me into
the
most awful situation of my life!'

Paul frowned. 'Why? What did my grandmother say?'

'Oh, not your
grandmother,'
cried Toni, shaking her head. 'Your uncle! He seems to consider me some kind of gold-digger who has come here with you to try and inveigle some money out of his mother! When he spoke to me in here earlier on - well, I felt so big!' She put her first finger and thumb close together. 'Not that I consider his opinion of me so important, but I do not intend to put up with that kind of treatment any longer. I'm leaving! You can please yourself whether you
_;
follow my example!'

'Toni!'

'Well!' Toni walked about restlessly, smoking nervously. 'You must be out of your tiny mind if you think your grandmother is going to help you financially with
big brother
looking on!'

Paul stubbed out his own cigarette. 'My grandmother has money of her own,' he said stiffly. 'What she does with it is her own concern. Besides, you don't know the whole story. My mother has never had a penny from this family. They've never lifted a finger to help her! Why should I care if my motives for coming here are misconstrued? In a way, I'm paying them back for the way they treated my mother.'

'And how long do you imagine you're going to be allowed to get away with it, with Uncle Raoul watching your every move like a hawk?'

'My grandmother doesn't require his permission for the things she does,' retorted Paul exasperatedly. 'Besides, she's still an old woman, who does want to see me married. Even you must have gathered the truth of that.'

'Yes, but that's the point, Paul. This is all pretence! We aren't going to get married!'

Paul studied her thoughtfully. 'We may just do that thing,' he said slowly.

Toni's eyes narrowed. 'Oh, no, Paul. Not me!'

'Why? Am I so repugnant?'

'No. It's not that.' She cast about in her mind for some way to let him down lightly. How could she tell him that he already had assumed a rather weak and indolent stature in her eyes? How also could she explain to herself the instant picture of a tall dark Portuguese who sprang unwanted into her mind at the thought of marriage to another man? 'It's just that we aren't at all alike, and I guess we just don't strike the right sparks off one another.'Paul moved closer. 'You're beginning to strike the right sparks off me,' he murmured softly. 'Did anyone ever tell you you have the most gorgeous eyes? And your legs....'

'Paul, stop it!' Toni moved jerkily away. 'Don't imagine you can change my mind like that!'

'Why not? All women like flattery.'

'Not all women.'

'Besides, it's not flattery. I mean it. Toni—' '

'Stop it, Paul,' she interrupted him. 'What are you going to do?'

'Do? Stay here, of course. How about you?'

Toni stared at him. 'I'm leaving, I've told you.'

'Are you? And have you thought how my dear Uncle Raoul will-construe your actions?'

'What do you mean?'

'Well, obviously if he thinks you're a gold-digger, he's going to believe you're leaving because he's found you out. He probably expects you to do just that if you think there's not going to be any money after all.'

Toni ran a hand over her forehead impatiently. Of course, for once Paul had to be right. That was exactly what the arrogant Conde would think. After all, his reasons for informing her of his position were all gauged to produce just such a reaction. He wanted them to leave, particularly Paul, but if Paul had proved to have, too thick a skin then obviously the next thing to do was to antagonize his fiancee so badly that she refused to stay and left, more than likely taking the offending Paul with her.

She drew deeply on her cigarette, and Paul, sensing her changing attitude, pressed home his point. 'Do you want Uncle Raoul to get his own way?' he asked. 'I would have thought that anyone with the minutest amount of spunk would give anything for the chance to get back at him, not run and hide like a beaten cat!'

Toni studied the glowing tip of her cigarette, and then when it almost burned her fingers stubbed it out angrily. 'Why should I care what your sainted uncle thinks of me?' she exclaimed.

Paul laughed. 'I don't know. But you do, don't you?' He ran a tongue over his lips. 'Or is it Francesca? After all, if you leave here the laugh will certainly be on us, won't it?'

Toni heaved a sigh. 'I don't like deceiving your grandmother,' she insisted wearily.

'Well, that was the situation long before you left Lisbon,' he reminded her.

'I know, I know! I ought never to have come!'

'I would agree with that,' remarked Conde della Maria Estrada, walking lazily into the room, accompanied by a smirking Francesca.

Toni felt hot angry tears pricking her eyelids suddenly, and she brushed them away with a careless hand, ignoring them all, and walking across to the window. Was she indeed allowing Paul to seduce her into a position where it was impossible for her to retreat? She didn't know. All she did know was that the Conde aroused the strongest feelings inside her, primarily an impotent kind of fury, which longed for satisfaction. He was so cold and aloof, so arrogant and assured. A god on a pedestal, so far as Francesca was concerned. How Toni would love to rock that pedestal a little! It might be foolish pride, but she couldn't stand his indifference.

She swung round to face them all, her mind made up. 'I'm sorry to disappoint you, Senhor Conde,' she said smoothly, realizing anger would gain her nothing. 'But now that I am here, I intend to stay, so long as Paul wants to do so.' She moved across to Paul, and allowed him to place his arm familiarly across her shoulders. 'Isn't that so,
darling?'

Paul looked down at her, half laughingly, half relieved, and nodded. 'If you say so, honey,' he murmured, and kissed the pink curve of her ear.

The rest of the day passed almost normally. After lunch Toni submitted to the Portuguese habit of siesta, and then in the cool of the later afternoon, she and Paul went out in the hired car, taking the coast road through some beautiful countryside. When they returned it was time to change for dinner, and to Toni's relief she found that the Conde was not present at the dinner table. But the old Condessa was there, and she said:

'I hope you will excuse my son, the Conde,
senhorita,
but he will not be dining with us this evening. He had an engagement with friends. ...' She smiled gently. 'But I understand from Francesca that you met him at lunch time. I was not present, I am afraid. There are days when I do not feel strong enough to get up so early.'

'I understand, Condessa,' said Toni, smiling in return.

Francesca, dressed this evening more formally in a blue velvet shift, gave a knowing, sneering grin. 'The Senhorita perhaps got a little more than she bargained for at lunchtime,' she said insolently.

The Condessa frowned. 'What is that supposed to mean, Francesca?' while Toni gave Paul a helpless glance.

'Senhorita West and my father had a little argument,' replied Francesca, in a smug way.

The Condessa looked at Toni. 'This is so?'

Toni moved awkwardly. 'It was nothing, Condessa. Merely a difference of opinion.'

'Indeed? And perhaps concerning myself?'

Toni gave Francesca an exasperated look. What was she supposed to say now? As though repenting a little, Francesca interposed: 'No, Avo, it was not to do with you.'

The Condessa looked relieved, and Toni looked down at her plate. It seemed that even Francesca had a streak of decency in her when it came to her grandmother.

After dinner, Paul and his grandmother were again esconced together on the long couch in the lounge, but Toni was restless. She looked thoughtfully at Francesca, and said:

'Do you want to go for a walk?'

Francesca looked at her grandmother, saw her expectant expression, and nodded abruptly. Toni collected a cardigan, and they left the castle by the door Toni had used that morning. Once outside the courtyard, Francesca turned away from the beach, and led Toni through the moonlit formal gardens flanking the castle on three sides. Here there were flower gardens, and herbal gardens, rose and vegetable gardens, arbours bright with flowering bougainvillea and dripping with magnolia petals. The sky above them was hung with stars, and even Francesca's uncommunicative presence could not prevent Toni's enjoyment of the night air. The scent of the pine trees was intoxicating, while the roar of the sea was a crescendo in their ears.

They halted in an arbour where a stone seat surrounded a marble fountain which spouted its unending stream of water unceasingly. Toni sat down on the seat, and looked up at Francesca reflectively.

'Why did you do it?' she asked.

Francesca shrugged. 'What?'

'You know - tell your grandmother that the argument I had with your father was not about her.'

Francesca shrugged. 'Whatever else I may do, I do not hurt my grandmother heedlessly,' she replied. 'Do not imagine I did it for you,
senhorita.
I do not care what happens to you!'

Toni sighed. 'I see. Well, thank you anyway. It got me out of an awkward situation, even if you were directly responsible for that situation.'

Francesca allowed her fingers to trail in the waters of the fountain. 'Tell me,' she said, surprisingly, 'do you love Paul?'

Toni was glad the night hid her blushes. 'I - yes, I suppose so.'

Francesca straightened, wiping her hand on the skirt of her dress. 'Aren't you sure?'

'All right, yes, I am.' Toni was irritated.

'Good.' Francesca looked at her piercingly. 'Just don't get any other ideas, will you,
senhorita?'

'I don't know what you mean!'

'Yes, you do, I mean - my father!'

'What!'

Francesca looked a trifle mocking. 'Don't pretend you don't find him attractive!'

Toni stood up. 'Your mind appals me!' She shook her head. 'It's more devious than a maze!'

'Mas'
I am usually right.' Francesca wrinkled her nose. 'But in any case I do not think I have to worry. You are not the type to appeal to my father. He already finds Laura Passamentes more than a distraction.'

Toni pulled out her cigarettes. 'And you don't mind that?' she asked curiously, extracting a cigarette.

'Who? Laura Passamentes? Of course not. My father is of the age where he is too young to remain a widower, and too old to fall in love. Laura Passamentes is herself a widow, with a boy only a little younger than me. If they marry, the situation will be ideal!'

Toni felt nauseated suddenly. To have this thirteen- year-old girl standing here, talking so callously about her father and his needs, his emotional needs moreover, was positively sickening.

Francesca looked scornfully at her. 'You find it distasteful, I can tell,' she said mockingly. 'Why? Are you English so adept at choosing your marriage partner that you cannot countenance a marriage of convenience?'

'I think you talk a lot of rubbish,' retorted Toni, with distaste. »

'Well, be warned!' said Francesca with more violence than she had shown so far.

'I don't need the warning,' retorted Toni angrily. 'I'm not interested in your father one tiny bit, and I can't imagine why you should think it's necessary to tell me this. Unless you have your own doubts!'

Francesca gave a scornful laugh. 'Oh, no,
senhorita,
I have no doubts,' she returned impudently.

The next morning Toni woke early again. Looking at her watch, she saw that it was only a little after six- thirty, but she was no longer tired and she refused to lie in bed just thinking of the beautiful day outside, when she could be part of it.

She got up, and rummaging in a drawer produced what she was looking for, a dark blue one-piece bathing suit. There was also a bikini hidden in her suitcase, but she knew they were forbidden on public beaches. Not that the beach below the
castelo
was public, but she did not want to antagonize the Conde still further. She put on the swimsuit, and a dark blue and green towelling beach dress, which barely covered her thighs. Sandals on her feet, and a towel about her neck, she descended the staircase silently, emerging into the courtyard without mishap. She did not know how to reach the door Francesca had used, so instead she walked out through the main entrance and round the castle walls to the stretch of grass which led to the cliff- top.