A rebellious lady, p.11
A Rebellious Lady, page 11
An area in the middle of the paseo had been reserved for carriages, but Desiree was more than happy to stroll along on Rafael’s arm. His company gave a final gloss to the pleasure of enjoying the evening cool in such pleasant surroundings.
‘Why did Elena not join us?’ she asked.
‘Her confessor called just as we were about to leave. She was torn between duty and pleasure.’
‘Well, I suppose she felt she had to choose duty.’
Rafael glanced at her with a smile. ‘Actually, mi perla, you are mistaken. Elena has plans to become a nun. For her, time spent on her knees with her confessor is to be preferred to secular enjoyment such as this.’ He waved an arm to encompass their surroundings. ‘Particularly when I reassured her that I would not forget to bring your maid along.’
Desiree had wondered at his insistence that Rosita accompany them. However, if he had made a promise to his sister she knew he would not break it, no matter his own preference.
She cast a quick glance at Rosita, who was following several paces behind them. A smile curved Desiree’s lips. Whatever it was that Rafael had said to the girl when he had drawn her aside after they stepped out of his carriage, Rosita was keeping as far distant as convention allowed. Not that she would have been able to make out what they were saying in any event, for their conversation was being conducted in English.
It seemed the safest choice. In this crowd, the use of French might draw unwanted attention and Desiree’s command of Castilian, although improving daily, was not yet good enough to venture into the realms of subtlety.
‘Does Elena speak English?’ Desiree asked, her thoughts running on.
If he was surprised by the question Rafael did not show it. ‘A little. She shared my lessons for a while.’ He smiled. ‘She was not a keen student and I think she would have preferred it if Padre had been like most fathers and frowned on education for women.’
‘He sounds an unusual man,’ Desiree murmured and then realising that this might sound critical, added hastily, ‘I think he was right. Why shouldn’t girls be allowed to study if they wish!’
‘Were you allowed to do so, ninfa?’ Rafael was curious.
Desiree shrugged. ‘Not as much as I would have liked.’ A little grimace twisted her mouth. ‘My grandfather was in charge of my education, but he was old-fashioned in his outlook. He considered the classics and a little mathematics permissible, but he drew the line at scientific studies.’
Rafael absorbed this interesting information and remarked, ‘Most people would think he already permitted too much.’ He gave her a provocative smile. ‘Perhaps he felt any more serious work would over-tax your brain.’
Refusing to take the bait, Desiree shook her head demurely. ‘But you see, señor, he did not think of me as a girl. To him, I was a substitute grandson and he always treated me as a boy.’
To her amusement, he let slip what sounded suspiciously like a disbelieving oath.
A boy! The man must have been an idiot!
‘Would you care to sit down?’ The wind taken out of his sails, Rafael blankly indicated an area to one side where a number of cane chairs had been set out.
Desiree refused. ‘I am enjoying the exercise,’ she murmured, but she knew that she didn’t want to relinquish his arm.
Recovering from his stupefaction, Rafael wished there was more time to indulge his curiosity. But the hour was growing late and there was something else he had to ask her.
‘I did not get the chance to enquire last night, but have you had any success in learning more about what befell your brother?’
As he had expected, Desiree’s lovely face clouded but her voice remained creditably calm.
‘Not very much, I’m afraid. The military are…are somewhat busy at present.’ She hesitated, wondering if she dare mention the English success in Portugal.
‘There is no treason in discussing a commonly known fact.’
With his usual perspicacity, he had guessed the reason for her hesitation.
‘If you have heard of the capture of Oporto, then you will know why Marshal Jourdan was too busy to speak to me,’ she said tartly. ‘However, the king has promised me the services of one of his aides de camp. A Major Evrard. He wrote to me a few days ago. A very pretty letter. He has already begun to investigate. With any luck, he will soon discover who was responsible for the attack.’
A strange look flickered over Rafael’s dark face but before she could begin to interpret it, it vanished and he was asking if she would like some agua fresca to take away the dust from her throat before they returned to the carriage.
She nodded and he summoned one of the aguadores who were plying the crowd.
The water was cold and sweet, but Desiree couldn’t help wondering what had disturbed him.
He concealed it well, but where Rafael de Velasco was concerned her senses had grown very sharp and she knew something was wrong. Something connected to her brother’s death.
But what?
* * * *
Two days later Rosita came flying into the sala where Desiree, having just finished breakfast, was engaged in writing a letter to Hortense.
‘You have a visitor, señorita,’ she gasped.
Desiree, who was expecting Rafael, looked up with a smile.
‘Go and admit him,’ she instructed. ‘Quickly, por favor.’
Rosita looked doubtful, but with a shrug obeyed.
To Desiree’s surprise, a stranger walked into the room.
Ignoring his hostess’s startled gasp, the man crossed to the small writing-table where she was sitting and with considerable aplomb possessed himself of her nerveless hand.
‘Enchante, Mademoiselle Fontaine. I am Armand Evrard. Delighted to make your acquaintance at last.’
Joseph’s aide-de-camp.
‘Welcome, Major.’ Desiree reclaimed her hand and indicated the most comfortable chair. ‘Do sit down. May I offer you refreshment? Some freshly-made lemonade perhaps?’
‘Thank you.’ He seated himself. ‘I don’t care for cold drinks so early in the day, but I will take some coffee, if that is convenient?’
‘Of course.’ Setting aside her pen, Desiree rose gracefully to her feet and went to give the bell-pull a tug.
She was aware of being watched and for some reason his gaze made her feel uncomfortable. Some men had the repulsive habit of stripping a girl bare with their eyes. It wasn’t that. His pale grey gaze lacked sexual voracity, but there was something cold, almost calculating, in his stare.
It was an odd thing how the mind could make instant judgements, she thought. Her instinct was to dislike this man but why?
In fact, he was quite a pretty fellow, although personally, she did not much care for red hair on men. A scant few inches taller than herself, his figure was slender, but well-proportioned. She guessed him to be in his late twenties, but it was hard to tell since his skin, which was almost as fair as her own, was smooth and unlined.
‘I hope I have not called at an awkward time? I know it is rather early.’ The major broke the silence. ‘Unfortunately, when I wrote to you the other day I wasn’t precisely sure when I would be free.’
His light-toned voice was pleasant, his manner blending courtesy and a respectful deference as he waited for her answer. Telling herself that she must be imagining things, Desiree sat down on the sofa opposite him.
‘Your visit is quite convenient, m’sieur.’
‘Good. I am sure you must be even more eager than I am to discover the truth.’
‘Did you know Etienne?’
He nodded. ‘We had not been acquainted long, but I think I can safely say we were friends.’ The pale grey eyes softened. ‘I miss him. In this God-forsaken hole of a country, a man needs every friend he can get and I was more than sorry to learn of his death.’
There was sincerity in his tone and it caused Desiree to revise her initial impression.
The major then offered her his formal condolences before continuing carefully, ‘You know why I am here, of course, but does it upset you to speak of the colonel?’
‘No. I find it helps,’ she replied simply and the last of her uneasiness melted as she listened to him relate several anecdotes regarding Etienne.
By the time Asuncion brought in the coffee they were chatting together like old friends and the look of loathing in the maid’s eyes as she stared at the hated French uniform came as a shock.
‘You may go. We will serve ourselves,’ Desiree said hastily, dismissing the woman.
Her servants obviously regarded her visitor as the enemy. They saw only the soldier and were not willing to try and judge the man behind the uniform.
Idly, Desiree wondered if he had grown those aggressive side-whiskers and bristling moustaches to follow fashion or compensate for his slight appearance and girlish features.
She poured the coffee and handed him a cup.
‘Thank you, mademoiselle.’ Evrard took a sip and rolled his eyes in exaggerated approval. ‘Much better than we get in the garrison!’
Desiree smiled. Guessing that he was trying to create a cheerful atmosphere, she appreciated his thoughtfulness.
‘May we turn to the matter which brought me here?’
At Desiree’s gesture of assent the major set down his cup. ‘I have begun my investigation by speaking to the men who were with your brother that morning,’ he announced, his manner becoming brisk. ‘Did you know that three others were also killed and several wounded in the attack?’
Desiree nodded.
‘None of the men I have questioned so far were able to add anything to what we already know, but I haven’t finished interviewing everyone yet. A couple of the wounded are still very hazy in their recollections. I doubt if one man will survive, but the other is getting better and from what I have been told by his sergeant he speaks a little Spanish.’
‘You think he may have overheard something useful?’
Armand Evrard inclined his red head. ‘It may be so. We can but hope. However, I would suggest you do not let yourself become too optimistic, Mademoiselle Fontaine. Even if this fellow, Moreau, has the information we need, it will not be easy trying to capture the guerrillas.’
‘I understand, Major. Thank you for the warning.’
He smiled at her. ‘I had feared to find you prostrate with grief but I should have known the colonel’s sister would show more fortitude.’
He rose to his feet. ‘Now I must take my leave of you, mademoiselle. My thanks for the coffee.’
Desiree stood up, smoothing down her lilac cambric skirts. ‘My pleasure, Major.’
She escorted him to the front door.
‘I will get in touch with you as soon as I have any further news.’ Armand Evrard bowed with military precision.
‘Thank you, Major.’
On the step he paused. ‘I think we shall deal together very well, mademoiselle.’
‘I will certainly do everything I can to help you for it is my dearest wish to avenge Etienne’s death.’
‘You may rest assured that I will do all in my power to see your wish is fulfilled.’
There was a note of steely determination in his light tones and watching him walk away, it occurred to Desiree that in spite of his somewhat effeminate appearance, Armand Evrard was much tougher than he at first seemed.
* * * *
Half an hour later Rafael arrived. He was dressed casually in dark-coloured breeches and his old leather travelling jacket.
‘I thought you might like to go riding this morning,’ he said, seeing her look of imperfectly concealed surprise.
‘With Elena’s escort? Or Rosita’s?’
‘No escort. Just me, if that is acceptable?’
‘Give me a few minutes to change.’ Desiree’s eyes began to shine.
She ran upstairs, her heart singing like a caged bird at the moment of release.
Within a short time she had rejoined Rafael, who glanced at her familiar dark blue riding-habit with a nod of recognition.
‘Do you approve of my new hat?’ Desiree indicated the neat black straw with a wave of one hand.
He grinned. ‘Practical and very fetching, mi perla.’
Desiree laughed. ‘At least it is more suitable than the one I wore the last time we rode together!’
He had brought a handsome chestnut gelding along for her use and as they threaded their way through the busy streets Desiree was conscious of curious glances following them. Although she had pinned up her bright hair beneath her hat she knew she did not look like a Spanish woman, but even in his casual attire no one would mistake Rafael de Velasco for anyone other than a hidalgo, a nobleman of the blood.
It was that autocratic bearing of his that did it, she reflected. The proud way in which he held his dark head, the decisive air of command that cloaked him, the haughty frown when something displeased him, all spoke of the high lineage bred into his very bone.
And she, what was she? A love-child. A bastard whose father would not, could not, publicly acknowledge her until he lay on his death-bed!
A sigh sought release but Desiree repressed it savagely. What was the matter with her! So, she could not match Rafael in birth. Given their present circumstances, it hardly mattered! Anyway, only a man displaying serious interest would find her irregular parentage a handicap!
There was no point in wasting a lovely morning in dwelling on what could not be changed. She was not going to think about the war between their countries or her own problems when she had Rafael’s company all to herself.
Desiree let her eyes rest upon him, admiring the way in which he handled his lively mount. He and the animal moved as if they were one creature. Only a superb rider could make it seem so easy.
‘Where are we going?’ she asked, quickly shaking off a sudden memory of those skilful hands sliding round her waist to hold her close against his tall, firm body.
‘To El Pardo. Long ago the Kings of Castile built a palace on the hill there. They wanted to take advantage of the good hunting in the surrounding forest.’ Rafael flashed her a quick smile. ‘I thought you might enjoy a little peace and quiet.’
‘It sounds lovely.’ How had he known she wanted to get away from the hustle and bustle of the city? But he hadn’t said how far away this place was.
‘Will it take us long?’ A faint note of hesitation crept into Desiree’s voice.
‘Don’t worry. We shall be back before anyone notices and starts to talk.’ A grin flickered over his elegantly austere features, making him seem suddenly boyish. ‘And I promise to be on my best behaviour, even without a duenna to glare at me!’
Trusting him completely, Desiree was able to laugh back at him.
They took the road north, talking as they rode. The miles flew past and it didn’t seem long to Desiree before the scenery began to change.
‘How green it is,’ she murmured as the trees thickened into forest, shading them from the fierce sun. ‘And so quiet. Nothing but bird-song.’
Rafael chuckled. ‘This forest is also inhabited by deer, eagles and wild boar.’
Desiree gave a nervous gulp. ‘Really? You wouldn’t imagine it so close to Madrid,’ she remarked airily.
‘There might even be a bear or two.’
‘Rafael!’ She turned wide eyes on him. ‘You are joking, aren’t you?’
He smiled at her wickedly, delighted that she had at last ventured to use his given name. ‘Am I?’
For an instant she wasn’t sure and then as he began to laugh she knew.
‘Oh you are gammoning me!’ Indignation coloured her cheeks a pretty pink.
‘Lo siento, I am sorry.’ He grinned at her with a cheerful lack of repentance. ‘I couldn’t resist it.’
Desiree summoned her severest frown but her eyes were dancing with merriment. ‘What a way to treat a delicate young lady, señor! Have you no consideration for my nerves?’
He pulled a humble face, clasping his hands together in mock contrition. ‘I beg your forgiveness, muy dona.’
‘You are a dreadful hypocrite, Rafael de Velasco!’ Desiree’s stern expression dissolved into laughter. ‘It would have served you right if I had succumbed to hysterics!’
He shook his dark head. ‘Never.’ He reached out to touch her shoulder in an impulsive gesture of approval. ‘You are made of sterner stuff, mi perla.’
Seeing genuine admiration replace his funning, Desiree blushed and hastily dropped her gaze to her reins.
When he looked at her with such warmth in his eyes, she could actually feel her heart beat quicken!
‘Is something wrong?’ His long fingers tightened on her shoulder.
She shook her head quickly, but did not trust herself to look at him.
‘Desiree?’
Slowly, she obeyed his unspoken command and lifted her eyes to meet his.
Their gaze locked and all at once the still, green air seemed to vibrate as passion silently answered passion.
Chapter Six
Rafael drew in his breath sharply and dropped his hand from her shoulder as if he had been burnt.
‘Shall we go on and see the palace? Or would you prefer to dismount and rest for a while?’ Finding his voice at last, Rafael fought to keep it steady. ‘It is quite safe. The game will not trouble us.’
He gave her a faint smile. ‘The last bears to roam here died hundreds of years ago.’
‘Oh well, in that case!’ Desiree managed a light chuckle and slid quickly from the saddle before he could make a move to help her.
Rafael dismounted and they began to walk towards a small clearing which they could see ahead.
‘It feels good to stretch my legs. I haven’t ridden in weeks.’
‘We can make a regular habit of riding together if you wish.’ Rafael matched her light, conversational tone.
‘That would be wonderful.’ Desiree’s smile quickly faded. ‘However, perhaps it might be better if we didn’t go so far afield next time. I don’t want to set the cat amongst the pigeons.’
Rafael gestured agreement. ‘A wise precaution, ninfa.’
