The Stand-In Bride

CHAPTER FOUR

AT THE centre of Sebastian’s home was the Patio de los Pájaros, the garden of birds, an enclosed garden, with a pool and a softly plashing fountain. Elaborately carved stone birds sat in silence beneath the trees and between the shrubs, and more birds hovered beside the pool.

Beyond the trees and shrubs were elaborately decorated arches whose twisted pillars seemed too frail for their burden. And yet the total impression was of perfection. Everything here was of peaceful symmetry, joyful harmony.

A moon was rising high in the dazzlingly clear sky as Maggie slipped outside and took a breath of the sweet night air. It was hard to recall that England was under snow. This far south the December nights were often pleasant, although here in the foothills it was cooler than in the city below, and she wore only a thin nightdress and robe. But even the chill was pleasant, and perhaps the harmony of the garden could restore the harmony of her mind.

The evening meal had been awesome. A pack of Sebastian’s relatives, living nearby, had flocked to see his bride’s return, and they had been joined by some distinguished names from the local government.

The only one who stood out in Maggie’s mind was Alfonso, a distant cousin in his twenties, who worked as Sebastian’s secretary. He was aloofly handsome, and at first glance he had the haughty demeanour of a de Santiago. But his smile was charming, and when he gazed at Catalina there was a kind of dumbfounded shock in his eyes that made Maggie pity him. He would have been a more suitable husband for her than Sebastian, yet even he, Maggie thought, was too grave and serious for such a flighty creature.

Catalina’s butterfly moods changed this way and that with dizzying speed. When they arrived she’d been a girl, so thrilled with her expensive new toys that she’d forgotten the price she must pay. But as the evening wore on the price became more obvious, until she was almost drooping. Both she and Maggie were relieved when they could retire to bed.

Poor Catalina, Maggie thought as she trailed her hand in the water. How right I was to oppose this marriage. It will be terrible for her.

She leaned over, watching her own moonlit reflection, scattering as she moved her fingers, but then becoming one again as the water stilled.

‘Like me,’ she said to the night. ‘All broken up one moment, peaceful the next. But the peace is an illusion; it can be shattered so easily. Why ever did I come here?’

‘Why, indeed?’ murmured a voice behind her.

In the same moment she saw him in the water, a man’s shape, turned to silhouette by the moon. ‘I didn’t know you were there,’ she said, turning.

‘I’m sorry I startled you,’ Sebastian said. ‘It was wrong of me.’

She nodded. ‘One should always wander in an enclosed garden alone. Thus you will find truth and paradise.’

He gave a small start of pleasure. ‘So you understand the symbolism?’

‘I know why so much Moorish architecture is built around places like this,’ she said. ‘But I’m not sure I agree with it. How can you achieve truth or heaven when the enclosure shuts so much out?’

‘But you forget, it also symbolises the whole cosmos, the world and infinity. Here, all beauty can be held in the palm of your hand.’

He dipped his hand and raised it, so that the water streamed down, leaving just a little cupped in his palm, until he opened his fingers, allowing it to trickle away. In the moonlight it glittered like magic, holding Maggie’s gaze, almost hypnotising her. ‘You can turn the symbolism any way you like,’ he said.

She could watch the water for ever, feeling the peace invade her bones. This was a magic place, and it would be fatally easy to surrender to that magic. She too slid her hand into the water and lifted it high, fascinated by the droplets. Sebastian took her fingers between his, holding them lightly.

‘Thank you for everything,’ he said. ‘For calming Isabella’s fears and befriending Catalina, for being wise and strong.’

Through the cold water she could feel the warmth of his hand, holding hers in a grip whose power was concealed but inescapable. She tried to speak, but couldn’t. Something was impeding her breathing.

‘I think you belong in an enclosed garden,’ he said.

‘Shut away from the world?’ she asked, struggling to escape the spell. ‘Not me.’

‘No, not shut away. You would bring the world inside with you, and contain it here in your hand, and the man who came seeking truth and wisdom would find it in you. Then he could truly shut out the rest of the world, having all he needed here.’

The words were ravishing, seductive, seeming to swim in the air. With an effort Maggie gave herself a little mental shake. ‘Is it wise to make so much of symbolism?’ she asked softly. ‘If we blind ourselves with symbols, where is the reality?’

‘I wonder which reality you are speaking of?’

‘Is there more than one?’

‘There are a million, and each man chooses his own.’

‘Each man, perhaps,’ she said wryly. ‘But how often can a woman choose? Mostly she has a man’s reality forced upon her.’

‘Was it forced on you? Or did you choose it freely-and then find that you had chosen in blindness?’

‘Aren’t all choices made in blindness? And we discover too late.’ She gave a little shiver.

‘You should have been more sensibly dressed to come out here,’ Sebastian told her. Swiftly he removed his jacket and draped it around her shoulders. Unconsciously she sighed at the warmth. ‘If you become ill I shall be in disfavour with my bride. She’s already angry with me for “brutally forcing” you-her words-to come here, where your heart will be broken by memories of your great lost love.’

‘Oh, dear! I’ve told her not to see me through a filter of tragic romance.’

‘You’re wasting your time. She loves seeing you that way. Next she’ll be wanting you to wander the streets of Granada, seeking out the places you knew with him.’

Suddenly she was aware of danger. It had been there all the time, but he’d managed to make her ignore it until almost too late. She stepped back from him. ‘You are wasting your time, Don Sebastian. I don’t discuss my husband with Catalina, and I won’t discuss him with you.’

‘And yet you came to Andalucia to find him-or to be finally rid of him. I wonder which.’

‘You can go on wondering. It is none of your business.’

‘That was what you meant by ghosts, wasn’t it?’

‘Please drop this subject.’

‘How angry you become when he is mentioned!’

‘Neither is my anger any of your business!’

‘Then let me give you a word of advice. If you wish to keep your secrets, hide your anger. It reveals too much about you.’

The last of the spell vanished. How dare he think he could bemuse her with his pretty nonsense about gardens and truth!

‘You know nothing about me,’ she said firmly, ‘except that I can be useful to you. That’s all you need to know, and all you will ever know. My “secrets” don’t concern you, my private life doesn’t concern you, and if you ever mention this again I will walk out.’

She was dismayed to find herself trembling. To hide it from him she began to turn away, but he detained her with a hand on her arm.

‘I’m sorry. I hadn’t realised it was as painful as that.’

She took a deep breath. ‘Goodnight, Don Sebastian.’

‘Don’t go yet.’

‘I said goodnight.’

His fingers tightened on her arm. But he found himself holding nothing. Maggie had slipped away, leaving him holding the empty jacket.

The time before the wedding was short, and Catalina’s first priority was a visit to Señora Diego, a dressmaker in Granada, where she would find a selection of bridal gowns to choose from. The car was ready to take them early next day, and on the journey Maggie noted wryly that the girl’s mood had changed again. The gloom of the previous evening had vanished, replaced by excitement at the thought of an expensive shopping trip.

Catalina tried on dress after dress, until at last the three of them agreed on a garment of lace that enhanced her delicate attractions. It was a little too large, but the alterations could be made at once. Catalina flopped down, worn out by her exertions, and prepared to gorge herself on sticky cakes until she was needed for a fitting.

‘Would you mind if I left you for a moment?’ Maggie asked. ‘I’ll be back in an hour.’

Catalina, her mouth full, waved her off, and Maggie slipped away. She’d been taken aback to find that the gown shop was only a few streets from the place where Roderigo’s business had been located. Now it seemed an excellent chance to lay a ghost. Just two more streets, then one…

At the last moment she almost changed her mind, but something drove her on to turn the corner, and there it was, the building she had once viewed with such dread, wondering what lies it was sheltering, what bills it was generating for her to pay.

It was different now, neater, more prosperous looking. Whoever had taken it over had made a success. The name over the door was José Ruiz, which struck a chord.

Suddenly the door opened and an extremely handsome young man stepped out. As his eyes fell on her an expression of pure delight spread over his face.

‘Maggie!’ he cried, advancing on her with outstretched hands. He stopped before her. ‘Don’t you remember me?’

Then she recognised him as the young cousin who had been constantly in and out of her home with Roderigo. ‘José!’ she said, pleased. ‘For a moment I didn’t recognise you.’

‘I was a boy then, now I am a man,’ he said proudly.

The years from nineteen to twenty-three had been kind to José. He had filled out. His shoulders were broader, the set of his head more mature, but there was still laughter in his eyes.

‘I’m so glad to see you again,’ he told her. ‘I’ve always remembered how kind you were to me.’

Somebody jostled them on the pavement and he took her arm. ‘There’s a little place in the next street where we can have coffee.’

When they were seated he said, ‘I thought you would never come back here.’

‘I never meant to. It’s only chance that brought me.’

She explained about her employment and José’s eyes widened. ‘I have heard of Don Sebastian, of course. Who in these parts has not? He is a great man.’

‘Hm! That’s as may be. I could find other words. I don’t think you’d like him any more than I do.’

‘Like?’ José seemed mildly shocked. ‘But Maggie, he is a man of authority, of respect, of power. His land-holdings are vast, he has orange and lemon groves, vineyards. One does not dare to like or dislike such a man. One merely prays not to come under his disapproval.’

‘I’ve no patience with that kind of talk. He’s a man like any other. As a matter of fact I have come under his disapproval, but that’s fine, because he’s come under mine.’

José eyed her in fascination. ‘Have you told him so?’

‘Certainly.’

‘How brave you must be!’

‘Tell me about yourself. What are you doing in that place?’

‘I took over the remainder of Roderigo’s lease, and started my own little business. I export fruit from this region, and I import small luxury goods from all over the world.’

‘So did Roderigo, I recall, when he bothered to do anything.’

José looked uncomfortable. ‘We do not speak of him,’ he said. ‘Luckily my last name is Ruiz, not Alva, so I renamed the business, and I don’t run it the way he did.’

‘You’re wise. I too no longer bear his name.’ She looked at her watch. ‘I must be getting back. Catalina will be wondering where I am.’

‘She is Don Sebastian’s betrothed?’

‘Yes. I left her trying on wedding dresses.’

The light of commerce came into José’s eyes. ‘Let me escort you, Maggie.’

She smiled. ‘These luxury goods you import-they wouldn’t be suitable for weddings, would they?’

‘Many, yes. But I was thinking more of getting an introduction to Don Sebastian. He has influence in the government-not the Spanish government, but the Andalucian.’

Maggie nodded. She knew Andalucia was a self-governing region where contacts and influence were important. Roderigo had been constantly seeking to ‘meet a man who knows someone’.

‘If you could introduce me to the great man,’ José pleaded. ‘There are contracts I could tender for-he will know people-please, Maggie.’ He took her hand between his and implored, ‘In the name of our old friendship.’

‘All right,’ she said, unable not to smile, ‘I’ll do my best for you. But remember, to these people I am Señora Cortez. That happened by mistake, but it would take too long to put right.’

‘I won’t mention Roderigo,’ José swore. ‘I can’t thank you enough.’

‘One more thing,’ Maggie said firmly, getting to her feet. ‘If you ever again refer to Sebastian as “a great man”, you and I are no longer friends.’

‘Ai, ai, ai!’ he said, impressed.

He walked back to the bridal shop with her and they arrived just as Catalina was dancing about in a flurry of white lace.

‘Isn’t it perfect, Maggie?’ Catalina cried. ‘Aren’t I beautiful?’

‘Beautiful,’ she said indulgently. ‘Catalina, this is José, an old friend.’

The girl gave a theatrical curtsey, becoming a flower of white lace. José responded with a correct little bow.

‘José will be coming to see me after supper this evening,’ Maggie added.

‘Oh, no, you must come much earlier,’ Catalina pouted. ‘It’s going to be such a boring supper, full of elderly aunts. You must eat with us, and then it won’t be so dull.’

José accepted gratefully, and they parted on the promise that they would all see each other later. Maggie had qualms about whether she’d done the right thing, but the evening went off better than she had dared to hope.

As Catalina had said, the huge table was filled with elderly relatives. José’s behaviour was perfect. He was courteous to his elders, charming the old ladies and listening deferentially to advice from the men. Maggie introduced him to Sebastian, who nodded politely before turning away. José betrayed no impatience, and was finally rewarded with fifteen minutes in Sebastian’s study. Before leaving he pressed Maggie’s hands and said, ‘Thank you,’ so fervently that she knew the interview must have gone well.

That night she strolled in the garden again, choosing a different path from last time. She wandered slowly amongst the flowers, finding her way by the moonlight that lit up silver paths that twisted and curved and ended in shadows. Birds called softly in the night, and wherever she turned there was beauty too great to be true.

At last she told herself that she must go indoors in case Sebastian should appear. There mustn’t be another encounter like last night. But still she found herself lingering.

‘Does my home please you now that you know it better?’ came a voice from the darkness. He appeared from beneath the trees, a silvered outline in the moonlight. He was wearing the clothes in which he’d dined, but now the frilled evening shirt was torn open to the waist. His chest was thick with hair, rising and falling as though he had been running.

‘I think you live in the most beautiful place on earth,’ she agreed.

He was carrying two wine glasses, one of which he gave to her, almost as if he had known that she would be there. ‘How does Catalina seem to you?’ he asked. ‘Is she happy?’

‘She is now, because she’s surrounded by pretty things and she’s going to be the centre of attention on the big day. But after that?’

‘After that, I shall spoil her, like the child she is, and she will want for nothing. Of course, she may find life a little short of intellectual pursuits-’

‘We’ve already agreed that Catalina isn’t an intellectual,’ Maggie said wryly.

‘She’s a scatterbrain who’ll always be content as long as she has a large dress allowance and girlfriends to gossip with,’ he said indulgently.

It annoyed Maggie not to be able to dispute the point, but she’d come to see that Sebastian’s assessment of his bride was largely correct. That didn’t make her agree with him about his marriage, but it did make him hard to fight.

‘And what about you?’ she asked. ‘How will you manage with a wife who cannot share your thoughts?’

He shrugged. ‘I share my thoughts with men, not women.’

‘For heaven’s sake!’ she cried to the sky.

‘You demand too much of marriage. No relationship can fulfil all needs. Catalina and I will make a home together. I will keep her safe, give her children, and satisfy her need for passion.’

‘You’re very sure you can satisfy that?’ she snapped.

He shrugged. ‘I’ve had no complaints so far.’

‘Stop right there. I don’t want to hear about your easy conquests.’

‘Why do you assume that they were easy?’

‘Because I know about you now. I know how they speak of you-Don Sebastian, the man of authority, of respect, of power. The man whose eye everyone wants to catch-’

‘Like your friend tonight,’ he murmured.

‘Yes. Good heavens, he nearly jumped through hoops when he heard I knew you.’

‘Why, Margarita,’ he said softly, ‘I didn’t realise that I filled so large a part of your conversation-or your thoughts.’

‘Don’t try to lay traps for me-’

‘You lay them for yourself. Why do you dislike me so much?’

‘Because-’ it was suddenly hard to answer ‘-because I feel sorry for Catalina. You mean to be a good husband by your lights, but your lights are very narrow. I see her being frog-marched into this marriage without having a chance to find something better.’

‘Something better than a home in which she will be petted and indulged, and given safety in which to rear her children? Yes, I shall be a good husband by my lights. But my lights include something you never speak of, perhaps because you think it doesn’t matter.’

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘I think you do. She is beautiful. I am a man who knows how to please a woman, and how to teach her to please him. Strange, how you never allow for passion, Margarita. A man might almost think you knew nothing of it.’

‘Oh, I know about passion,’ she said with a bitterness she couldn’t suppress. ‘I know how dangerous it is, and how overrated. You think if you blind her like that nothing else will matter.’

‘I think that a man who satisfies his wife in bed is a good husband, and has protected the sanctity of his home.’

Suddenly time rolled back and she was confronting Roderigo again, beating her head against his selfish conviction that his technical skill as a lover should silence all argument. Terrified, she hurled the cruellest words she could find.

‘And how will he know if she’s truly satisfied, Sebastian? How can he be sure that what he sees isn’t a pretence, the prisoner placating her gaoler? That’s the trouble when a man has too much power. He’s never quite certain, is he?’

The sharp intake of his breath told her that she’d struck home. ‘Be careful,’ he said harshly.

‘It’s true. Admit it!’

She didn’t know what demon was lashing her on to drive him past the point of safety. She only knew that she would do anything to crack his control and wipe the complacency from his face. And that she was succeeding.

‘Stop there,’ he said harshly.

‘Why should I? What did you think I meant when I spoke of your “easy conquests”? They’re very easy, aren’t they, Sebastian? I’m sure women flock to your bed, but is it you that pleases them, or your money and power? You’ll never be sure, will you?’

‘Then you can be the judge,’ he snapped.

She read the intention in his eyes and backed off, but too late. His hand was behind her head and his mouth on hers before she had time to think. There was no chance to even try to push him away as his other arm clamped itself around her waist, grinding her body against his. She had driven him too far. Now he had a point to make, and she knew within seconds that he was going to make it with devastating force. No quarter asked or given.

But that went for her too, she thought furiously. What a pleasure it would be to lie, frozen, in his arms, and let him know how little impact he made on a woman who wanted nothing from him. It would be satisfying to teach him a lesson.

She let her hands fall to her side and stood, unresisting, while his lips moved over hers, skilled, purposeful. There was coaxing in those movements, but she ignored it. It was harder to ignore the hot, spicy smell of him and the feel of his body moulded against hers. She was conscious of the lines of his thighs, his lean hips, and the fact that he had come swiftly to full arousal.

To her dismay, that knowledge sent little sparks of excitement through her. That wasn’t what she’d meant to happen, and she wouldn’t give in to it. She must remember how much she disliked him, because then she couldn’t possibly want to press herself closer to him.

He raised his head and looked down at her face, closed against him in the moonlight. He smiled.

‘It isn’t going to be that easy,’ he said softly. ‘For either of us.’

‘Go to the devil!’

‘Of course. That’s where you’re driving me. Let’s go together.’

‘No!’

‘Too late to say no. Too late for both of us. You should have thought of this before you taunted me. Now we have to go on to the end.’

He covered her mouth with a swift, ravishing movement, and she clenched her hands. It was hard to keep them at her side when they wanted to touch him, excite him. She resisted the impulse, but she guessed he must sense her struggle. At all costs she must prove herself stronger than him at this moment.

As though he read her thoughts he murmured against her lips, ‘Why do you fight me?’

‘Because somebody must,’ she said fiercely, trying not to let her voice shake.

Astonished, he drew back and searched her face.

‘You have more power than any man should have,’ she flung at him. ‘But while I’m alive, it will never be complete. I’ll never give you power over me. Not for an instant.’

‘I believe you really would fight me to the last moment,’ he murmured huskily.

‘Believe it! Because I’ve seen through you.’

‘And what do you think you see?’

‘This is all an act. You don’t really want me at all, any more than I want you. You just can’t bear someone who doesn’t jump when you snap your fingers. If I let you overcome me, you’d shrug at another conquest and forget me the next moment.’

‘Are you so sure?’

‘Completely sure.’

‘Shall we find out?’

‘It will never happen,’ she said slowly and deliberately. She wrenched herself free and backed away from him. She was breathing hard, but in command of herself. She wasn’t so sure of Sebastian’s control. There was a wild look in his eyes, and she was suddenly aware how isolated they were in this distant part of the garden. He was a man used to taking what he wanted.

‘I’m leaving this house,’ she said.

‘I forbid it!’

‘And you think you have only to give your orders? Don’t try to order me, Sebastian. I’m going first thing tomorrow. And think yourself lucky if I don’t tell Catalina the kind of man she’s marrying.’

‘Do you know the kind of man she’s marrying?’

‘I know that whatever else you offer your wife, it isn’t fidelity.’

‘I find it hard to think of fidelity when you’re around. Perhaps you should blame yourself for that. Why do you incite me if you have nothing to give?’

‘Don’t try to blame me! I don’t incite you.’

‘You incite me just by living and breathing. You incite me when you walk in the room, when I see you-’

‘Then the sooner you see me no more, the better.’

She walked away from him quickly. As she went she listened for his footsteps coming after her, but there was only the silence and she managed to reach the building. She was shaking with the violence of what had happened to her, not what he had done, but what she had felt. Her heart was thundering and her whole body shook with the force of the sensations he had aroused. Everything he said was true. She was no girl but a woman who had learned the secrets of desire and couldn’t forget them. She’d forced them back, tried to deny what she knew, but they were there, waiting for the wrong man to bring them back to life.

She hurried to her room, longing to get out of sight, but suddenly Catalina appeared, smiling at the sight of her. Now was her chance, Maggie thought. She’d wanted to stop this wedding, and if she told the girl the truth about her future husband, that was all it would take.

Or would it? Catalina probably didn’t expect perfect behaviour from Sebastian, but she would expect it from her friend. Her revelations might cause pain without doing any good.

‘I thought you were in bed and asleep,’ she said.

‘I can’t sleep. I think and think about my lovely dress. I shall be the most beautiful bride.’

‘And after? Will he be a good husband?’

The girl shrugged. ‘He will take care of me, and I shall have lots of lovely new clothes.’

This was so nearly what Sebastian had said that Maggie was startled. There was something about Catalina’s prosaic attitude to her marriage that made the dreadful words die before they could be spoken. The next moment, she knew they would never be said. Catalina put her arms around Maggie’s neck and kissed her softly on the cheek. ‘I’m so happy you’re here,’ she said. ‘Nobody has ever been as good to me as you.’

She drifted away down the corridor. At her door, she stopped, blew Maggie a kiss, and slipped inside.

‘Oh, heavens!’ Maggie said to the silence.

‘Thank you.’

She whirled at the sound of Sebastian’s voice as he reached the top of the stair. ‘How long have you been there?’

‘Long enough to know that you might have betrayed me, and didn’t.’

‘For her sake, not for yours.’

‘I know that.’ In the dusky light of the corridor she could see that his face was gaunt and strained. ‘I behaved badly tonight. You are living under my roof-I forgot my honour, the honour of my house. If you will consent to remain, I give you my word that such a thing will not occur again.’ She hesitated and he said, ‘You will be safe, on my sacred word!’

‘Very well, I’ll stay. But hear this, Sebastian. I couldn’t give you away tonight, but I’ll still use every chance I have to undermine you in her eyes. Do you understand me? If I can talk her out of this wedding-I’ll do it.’

He inclined his head. ‘At least I can see the battle lines. I have no complaints.’

‘You may have if she jilts you.’

‘She won’t jilt me, because you’re too honourable to use your strongest weapon. I thank you, for that and for declaring war openly.’

‘As long as you remember that war is what it is.’