A rebellious lady, p.13
A Rebellious Lady, page 13
Thoughtfully, she laved water over her arms. She had been too pleased by Rafael’s unexpected invitation this morning to stop and think that they might be riding into danger. However, since she had been in Madrid, she had heard many rumours to indicate that the whole country appeared to be sliding into a state of unrest and she was willing to believe it.
Fawned upon by many members of the Spanish nobility, Joseph might hold court in his lovely palace, but Etienne’s murder had shattered her belief in the notion that the Spanish people were beaten. No matter what the Emperor declared, the fight wasn’t over yet.
Guerrilla activity was all too real and growing daily. Desiree suspected that Rafael knew this very well so why had he been so careless of their safety? He had even brushed off her concern in a dismissive manner.
Desiree reached for the towel. His attitude was puzzling and she didn’t like puzzles!
* * * *
The following day was the one which had been chosen for paying a visita de cortesia, a courtesy call, on Elena de los Dolores de Leon. Asking Rosita to press her new morning gown in dark-striped muslin, Desiree was aware of a certain reluctance to keep the appointment with Rafael’s sister.
Coward, she scolded herself.
The house in the Calle Nueva was old, guarded by a thick walls and a massive outer door. Set in the centre of the age-blackened wood was a small shuttered grille, grated with iron.
Rosita rang the heavy bell and the shutter slid open an inch.
‘Quien es?’ said the unseen porter.
Rosita made the traditional reply. ‘Gente de paz,’ she said, informing him that they were people of peace.
The shutter opened a little more and, at Desiree’s nod, Rosita proffered their names and purpose.
From the hostile looks the porter gave them as he admitted them into the courtyard Desiree felt sure he didn’t think she was worthy of the honour, but Elena’s beaming smile of welcome as she was shown into the sala banished this wry reflection.
‘Desiree. I am so pleased that you have come. Do sit down here next to me.’
To Desiree’s relief, Rafael’s sister was alone.
She was seated on a large silken divan set before one of the most elaborately carved fireplaces Desiree had ever seen. Crossing towards her Desiree noticed that the tiled floor was partly covered in plaited rattan mats, but it was hard to distinguish much else for lowered blinds obscured the windows to keep out the sunlight.
Blinking in the gloom, Desiree sat down.
‘I see you are wearing a mantilla. May I say that I think it suits you?’
‘Thank you.’ Desiree, who had been a little uncertain of the fashion on herself, was pleased by her new friend’s approval. ‘It is more comfortable to wear than a hat in this warm weather.’
‘Allow me to offer you a cool drink.’ Elena rang a hand-bell by her side.
The summons must have been expected and one of the servants quickly arrived bearing a tray of refreshments.
Desiree accepted a glass of orange juice. ‘I find I am always thirsty these days,’ she remarked.
An image of Rafael showing her how to pour wine into her mouth direct from the skin flashed into her mind, but she firmly banished it.
‘You can blame Madrid’s dreadful combination of excessive heat and dry air,’ Elena answered with a smile.
Desiree sipped her drink. Searching for a topic to open the conversation, she asked her hostess how the little black mare Rafael had bought for her did.
‘Very well, thank you. She is a delight to ride.’
Desiree smiled. ‘A lovely creature,’ she agreed.
‘Did you enjoy your ride yesterday with my brother?’ Elena posed the question shyly. ‘I would have accompanied you, but I had one of my stupid migraines.’
‘It was a pleasant change to get away from the bustle of the city,’ Desiree replied and quickly changed the subject by asking how the arrangements for the tertulia were coming along.
Elena pulled a wry face. ‘I could have done with more notice, but still, everything is almost ready now.’
‘Are you inviting many guests?’
A swift nod of assent answered Desiree’s question. ‘Usually, my brother does not entertain when he comes to the city but this time he has asked everyone he knows.’
A shadow passed over Desiree’s face and Elena gave her a reassuring smile. ‘There will be many afrancesados present and several French officers too. You needn’t fear you will be the only foreigner.’
Desiree wanted to ask why Rafael was pretending to be an afrancesado but she couldn’t think of a way to do it.
‘Would you like to try one of these?’ Elena indicated the assorted pastries which had been brought in to accompany their drinks, tactfully ignoring the hiatus.
Desiree wasn’t hungry and was about to refuse when Elena added that she was thinking of serving the cabello de angel at the party.
‘Unfortunately, it is impossible to obtain good quality butter here in Madrid so they aren’t to the recipe I would use at home. Rafael said they might not please.’
Desiree heard the doubt in her tone and obligingly sampled one of the angel’s hair pastries. ‘It’s delicious,’ she announced firmly, taking a childish delight in contradicting Rafael de Velasco’s opinion. ‘I’m sure your guests will enjoy them.’
‘Speaking of my brother, I’m sorry he isn’t here,’ Elena murmured apologetically. ‘I did remind him earlier that you were expected, but he insisted he had to go out.’
Desiree forced a polite smile. ‘Please don’t worry. It doesn’t matter.’
Hearing the strained note in her voice, Elena had to curb an exclamation of surprise. The other night at the Royal Palace she had been convinced her brother and Desiree were in the throes of developing a tendre.
A quick frown creased her brow. Now she came to think on it, Rafael had been in a distinctly difficult mood when he returned home yesterday.
What’s more, Desiree’s whole manner today lacked the enchanting sparkle Elena remembered.
She flicked her fan to and fro, wishing there was something she could do to help if they had quarrelled. Rafael would not thank her for interfering but she had never seen him so happy as he had been this last week.
‘Do you think I should keep to mourning or not?’
Belatedly realising Desiree was asking her advice on the dress appropriate for the tertulia, Elena forced herself to concentrate as they debated the thorny problem of what to wear.
‘I want everything to be perfect for it will be my last social engagement.’ Elena concluded the discussion with a faint smile.
‘Rafael said you were thinking of becoming a nun.’ Desiree found it impossible to restrain her curiosity.
Elena nodded firmly. ‘Si. I intend to enter the convent in Frias.’
‘Frias? You aren’t staying in Madrid?’
‘There are many excellent convents here, but Frias is a special place.’
Desiree’s expressive face revealed her curiosity.
‘It is one of the oldest towns in Castile and it lies at the heart of the lands of Los Velasco, up in the mountains,’ Elena explained.
When she casually added that the Duque de Frias was one of their cousins Desiree felt a frisson of depression feather down her spine.
Yet she had always known that Rafael de Velasco was above her touch. So what did it matter if he was cousin to a duke!
Sadly, logic was no comfort!
Last night, when she had lain sleepless for hours, she had come to the painful conclusion that love could not dismissed to order. It just wasn’t possible to stop loving Rafael. The only course open to her was to bury her feelings beneath an impenetrable shield of pride. For the sake of her sanity, she must pretend nothing of lasting importance had happened in that forest glade!
She knew the deception would be easier if she did not have to spend time in Rafael’s company. However, to cut him socially would only give rise to gossip since she was supposed to be a family friend. She would have to employ more subtle methods to withdraw from a relationship that should never have begun.
It had been her intention to tell Elena this morning that she had changed her mind and would not attend the tertulia. Elena’s obvious pleasure at seeing her and the knowledge that her new friend had been working hard for the party made Desiree’s resolve waver.
Before she could make up her mind, a new visitor, Elena’s confessor, was shown in.
Realising that all hope of private conversation had vanished, Desiree politely announced her departure as soon as an opportunity presented itself.
‘I hope we may meet again before the tertulia,’ Elena said shyly, ringing for a servant to inform Rosita to await her mistress in the courtyard.
‘I am holding an at home morning tomorrow. Do come if you can find the time. I should be very pleased to see you.’ Adjusting the folds of her mantilla around her shoulders, Desiree gave her hostess an encouraging smile, inwardly hoping she would be able to find the firmness she needed to say no when she was on her own ground.
They said their farewells and Desiree was escorted down the stairs by a footman, who showed her out.
Emerging into bright sunlight, she was dazzled after the gloom within the house and it took her a few seconds to realise that the figure standing by the elaborate statue in the centre of the courtyard was not Rosita.
By the time she had realised her mistake, Rafael had crossed to her side and was bowing over her hand with his usual deft grace.
Conscious that there might be watching eyes at any of the many windows, she resisted the impulse to snatch her hand away.
‘I hoped to be back before you left,’ Rafael said, continuing to hold on to her hand.
Desiree shrugged, trying to ignore the way her heart was slamming against her ribs.
He released her. ‘You are still angry with me.’
Disconcerted by his directness, Desiree bit her lower lip.
‘I did not mean to upset you. I want you to be happy.’
Gazing into his dark eyes she read sincerity in his expression.
‘Will you come back inside? There is something I wish to discuss with you.’
Shaking her head, Desiree took a step back away from him.
‘The best way for me to find happiness, Rafael de Velasco,’ she said breathlessly, ‘is to do what I should have done in the first place and stay away from you!’
* * * *
Desiree soon realised that her ambition to forget her hopeless love was going to be difficult to achieve. Everyone who came to her at home morning seemed to want to talk about Rafael. A group of officers’ wives, anxious to offer their friendship to one reputed to have the ear of the King, chattered speculatively about the tall handsome afrancesado. They questioned Desiree relentlessly, determined to discover everything she knew about him.
Desiree had barely recovered from their onslaught when some of the Spanish ladies she had met at the royal reception were shown in together with their escorts. Within a few minutes it was clear to her that these Madrilenos were intrigued by the idea of Rafael offering an entertainment. In view of his previous distaste for society, they seemed to think it promised to be an especially interesting evening.
Even Armand Evrard, who arrived as the other visitors were leaving, brought the subject up.
‘You have been invited, Major? I did not know that you were acquainted with Don Rafael.’
‘I’m not,’ he replied cheerfully. ‘However, he has issued a general invitation to all senior officers who are free of duties that evening. They say he intends to serve only the best champagne! But then I’ve heard the family is very rich and he is an afrancesado.’
Desiree was unwilling to voice her doubts on this score. She owed Rafael too much to cast aspersions, but she was heartily sick of having to discuss the man she wanted to forget.
‘I dare say it will be a very pleasant evening, but I’m sure you did not come here just to talk of Rafael de Velasco, Major.’
He gave her a startled glance, surprised by the unusual sharpness of her tone.
Desiree reined in her irritation. ‘I’m sorry. I’m afraid entertaining so many visitors has given me a headache,’ she murmured apologetically.
It was actually true. After another sleepless night her brain felt woolly. She hadn’t managed to come to any decision yet about the tertulia and regretted that Elena had not visited her.
‘You do look a little pale.’ A sympathetic expression appeared on Armand’s face. ‘Shall I come back another time? I merely came to pay my respects. There hasn’t been enough further progress to justify another report.’
‘Oh no! Please don’t go.’ Feeling distinctly ungracious, Desiree pressed him to take another glass of sherry.
‘Thank you.’ He sipped the pale dry fino appreciatively. ‘Actually, I did have another reason for visiting you.’ He gave her a smooth smile. ‘I was hoping to persuade you to come with me to the theatre tomorrow night. You said you enjoyed theatrical performances and I should very much like to have your company.’
Dismay filled Desiree. There was no mistaking the caressing warmth in his light voice and persuasive manner.
‘They are performing a French version of Cadalso’s La Optica del Cortejo. It is supposed to be an amusing romantic satire.’ He saw her expression brighten with interest and his smile grew wider. ‘We could have a bite of supper afterwards. I’m told the Casa Botin is a restaurant worth patronising.’
‘It is kind of you to ask me, m’sieur—’
‘Oh please, won’t you call me Armand?’ he interrupted quickly. ‘In the circumstances I think we may be excused from formality.’
Desiree hesitated. He was helping her and she didn’t wish to offend him, but neither did she want to encourage his attentions. He simply wasn’t the type of man she found attractive, even if she had not been in love with Rafael.
‘Very well,’ she agreed. ‘And you may call me Desiree. However, I don’t think I ought to attend a public performance at a theatre. I am still in mourning.’
‘But you mean to favour the Velasco tertulia,’ he protested, his voice rising in a distinctly petulant manner.
‘That is a private party.’
‘Oui. Attended by half of Madrid.’ His smile had faded to a sour grimace.
Somehow, his very opposition to the tertulia strengthened Desiree’s wish to attend it!
She set her wineglass down, her spine stiffening with annoyance beneath her black crape dress. ‘It is being given by my friends in their own home,’ she said with implacable firmness. ‘I don’t think the two can be compared, monsieur.’
The major was no fool and he knew when to make a tactical retreat. ‘Forgive me. I don’t mean to press you into behaviour you feel inappropriate,’ he murmured.
Desiree, feeling that perhaps she had been a little hard on him, gave him a friendly smile. ‘There is nothing to forgive. It is merely that I have no wish to become the subject of gossip. Living alone as I do, people are inclined to be critical.’
‘I appreciate the difficulties of your position, but won’t you at least have supper with me? Surely, there can be no harm in that? It must be lonely for you here on your own. I know you have made many new acquaintances in the last few weeks, but we are both French, both strangers in a foreign land. We could be company for one another.’
Desiree hesitated. She was lonely.
‘All I ask is to serve you, but I should feel honoured if you could consider me a friend.’ He laughed, a little too loudly. ‘Who knows, in time you might come to regard me with the same admiration I have for you!’
His attempt to sound as if he was merely paying her a fashionably extravagant compliment was contradicted by the eagerness burning in his pale eyes.
Desiree experienced a sinking feeling in her stomach. It seemed that unkind Fate was playing tricks on her! Why couldn’t it be the man she loved who wanted her company!
‘I should be happy to have your friendship, Armand,’ she replied with assumed lightness. ‘But you must remember that I shall be leaving Spain soon and we shall have to say adieu.’
He nodded, the flicker of disappointment which blighted his expression revealing that he had understood the limitations she was setting.
‘I shall treasure each hour we spend together as if it was the last,’ he answered extravagantly, deliberately matching her light-hearted tone.
A few moments later he set his empty wineglass aside and rose to leave.
‘Shall we celebrate our new friendship over supper tomorrow?’ he asked, bowing over her hand in farewell.
Desiree decided to give in gracefully and agreed.
When he had gone a bitter smile rose to her lips. How ironic to try and warn Armand not to fall in love with someone who could not return his feelings when she had tumbled into the very same trap herself!
Chapter Seven
Unfortunately for his plans for an early supper, the King required Armand to remain on duty the following evening. He sent a hasty note round to Desiree, apologising for the delay and explaining that he would be free at ten and would call for her then if that was acceptable.
Having scanned the scribbled letter Asuncion brought in to her, Desiree went out into the hall where his messenger awaited an answer.
‘Please tell the major that the new arrangement is satisfactory.’
The soldier clicked his heels in salute and briskly departed, leaving Desiree free to return to her sala.
She sat down, a slight frown creasing her brow. What was she to do with herself for the next two hours? Having expected Armand at any moment, she was already dressed in the black satin evening-gown Dona Mercedes had created for her.
She picked up a book but was too restless to read and went instead to her bedroom where Rosita was engaged in tidying up discarded items of clothing.
‘Oh señorita, you startled me!’ the maid exclaimed. ‘Did you decide you preferred your ivory fan after all?’
Desiree quickly explained what had happened. ‘I’ve decided to go out for an hour while I am waiting. It is much too pleasant an evening to waste.’
