The Stand-In Bride

CHAPTER SIX

AS HER wedding grew closer Catalina’s mood veered wildly. Sometimes she was calm, and almost indifferent, at other times she would indulge in bursts of tears.

She entered a lively dispute with Sebastian about their honeymoon. Catalina’s choice was a trip to New York. Sebastian’s idea was a slow tour of his estates, introducing her to his people, and also her new duties. Maggie threw up her hands in despair at this notion of a honeymoon, and she came within an ace of kicking Sebastian’s shins before he belatedly saw sense, and gave in.

Isabella arrived amid much rejoicing, and after another week in hospital she was well enough to move into Sebastian’s house, with two nurses.

Some of Catalina’s responsibilities came with the season. Nearby was the tiny parish church of San Nicolas, where it was a tradition for the de Santiago family to provide the crib. Sebastian drove her and Maggie the short distance to the charming little building, and played his part in setting the scene. At last, everything was finished, except for the manger, which was still empty.

Maggie gently unwrapped the tissue paper and handed Catalina the tiny wooden figure of a child. It was exquisitely carved and painted, with a peacefully sleeping face, and she felt a sudden tremor go through her. There had been another child that had lain in her arms and slept like that. But the baby had not woken again.

Catalina laid the baby in the manger, and turned away in answer to some remark of the priest’s. Feeling sure she was unnoticed, Maggie moved quietly forward and looked into the crib.

‘Isn’t it beautiful, Señora?’ Father Basilio appeared beside her.

‘Beautiful,’ she said softly. ‘And the real miracle was that he lived.’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘All that stress, and the journey on the donkey-he was probably born early. Children sometimes die when they’re premature.’

The old man’s eyes were kind and understanding. ‘Yes, Señora. Sometimes that happens. Was your baby blessed with any life at all?’

‘Just a few days,’ she whispered.

Somebody spoke to the priest. While his attention was distracted Maggie laid her hand gently on the infant. Suddenly she couldn’t see properly. She closed her eyes and took a long breath, and when she opened them again she found Sebastian looking at her. For a moment she thought he would speak, but Catalina burst in with, ‘Maggie, isn’t it just beautiful?’

‘Beautiful,’ she said brightly, forcing herself back to reality.

‘Sebastian, don’t you think everything is perfect?’

‘Perfect, my dear.’

‘Have I performed my duties to your liking?’

‘You’ve done admirably,’ he said, and it might have been Maggie’s imagination, but she thought he smiled with an effort.

Christmas passed fairly quietly, as was common in continental Europe. On Christmas Eve the entire household attended the great cathedral in Granada, and on Christmas Day they went to the little parish church.

The time for colourful festivities was the New Year, and in particular, the Feast of The Three Kings, in January. This would be celebrated with the jollity that in England was associated with Christmas, with much wine, good food and giving of gifts. Ten days later Sebastian and Catalina would be married in Granada Cathedral, and Maggie would be free to return home.

She was looking forward to that, she told herself many times. Once back in England she would be able to put these strange, hectic weeks behind her and get Sebastian in proportion, a man who loomed large because of his power and arrogance, but who wasn’t really very important after all.

Between New Year and the Feast the place was a bedlam of preparation. Of all the parties in town, Don Sebastian’s celebration for his bride was the party. Anyone who was everyone had been invited. Those who hadn’t took to their beds or retired to the country to hide their shame. Even José had received an invitation, although Sebastian drew the line at Horacio.

Extra cooks were brought in to cater for the armies of guests. An internationally famous chef was installed the week before and began the preparations for garlic soup, mussels steamed in sherry, giant prawns cooked in olive oil, roast suckling pig, almond sponge cake and marzipan coated with bitter chocolate. He had several lively discussions with the steward in charge of Sebastian’s huge cellar, and the two of them nearly came to blows over the rival merits of Gramona Chardonnay and Solar Gran Blanco Crianza.

Cleaners polished the place from top to bottom. Every lamp was washed until it sparkled and glowed against the tiles and mosaics. With two days to go the weather struck a warm spell and outdoor festivities became possible. Lights were hung throughout the courtyards, throwing into vivid relief the delicate arches and casting reflections in the water.

Catalina was having a new gown created for the occasion by the same establishment that had made her wedding dress, and insisted on buying Maggie a gown also. Catalina helped her study fabrics and styles, but when it came to the fitting she would lose interest and wander out for a quick shopping trip.

The gown was splendid, long, sweeping and made of dark crimson velvet. Most fair-haired women would have had trouble with the colour, but Maggie’s Mediterranean eyes set it off perfectly.

Sebastian’s expression said he thought so, on the night of the party, when she came downstairs in her glorious creation, and he gave her a heavy, solid gold antique locket, set with rubies, to wear with it.

‘Catalina told me how you would look, so that I could choose your gift correctly,’ he said, draping it around her neck.

‘It’s beautiful,’ she said breathlessly. ‘But-it’s too much-’

‘Too much for all I owe you? No, Margarita. No gift is good enough for you. How wise you were to keep me at a distance. By doing so, you restored my honour. For you, I would have thrown it away-’

‘And regretted it.’

‘Perhaps,’ he said after a moment.

She met his eyes. ‘Yes.’

He didn’t answer this directly, but said with a rueful smile, ‘You were always wiser than I.’

‘Sebastian, can I give you a little advice?’

‘Of course.’

‘Be kind to Catalina.’

‘That was always my intention.’

‘No, I mean more. I mean, be faithful to her. She’s young and very vulnerable. You could make her fall in love with you-’

‘Is it so easy to claim a woman’s love?’ he asked quietly. ‘Well, maybe I thought so once. I will do as you ask-in gratitude. And you? What will you do?’

‘Go home as soon as you are married.’

‘And then?’

‘Get another job.’

‘And live alone?’

She hesitated. ‘You mustn’t ask me that. We must never talk like this again.’

He sighed. ‘I think tonight, and the next few days, are going to be very difficult.’

Catalina appeared. She seemed nervous and distracted, but Maggie put that down to the nature of the occasion. Afterwards she was to wonder how she could have been so blind.

First the long receiving line, with Catalina standing beside Sebastian, smiling mechanically, looking tinier than ever. Everything seemed to swamp her, from the way her long black hair had been taken up and elaborately dressed, to the huge diamond engagement ring that flashed on her finger.

Then everyone crowded to the long tables, with Sebastian’s immediate household on the raised top table. Isabella was there, and so was Maggie, although she wished she wasn’t. She would have been glad to blend in with the crowd, and steal a glance at Sebastian unobserved. But perhaps, she reflected, it was better for her to be near Catalina. The poor girl was looking deathly pale, almost ill.

‘You’re doing wonderfully,’ Maggie whispered as the meal, and the speeches came to an end. ‘Are you all right?’

Catalina turned a distraught face to her. ‘Oh, Maggie, this is too much for me. I must be alone for a few moments.’

‘Do you want me to come with you?’

‘No, no! I must be alone.’ She almost ran in her desire to escape.

Soon it was time for the guests to move from one great hall into another. Here stood the tree, nearly twenty feet tall, brilliant with decorations, packed with gifts at the base, with more gifts piled on tables nearby.

‘Where is Catalina?’ Sebastian murmured to Maggie. ‘She must help me distribute the presents.’

‘She was feeling a little overwhelmed. She slipped out for a breath of fresh air.’

‘But that was nearly half an hour ago. Come, we must find her.’

The search began quietly, for it seemed certain that Catalina would appear at any moment, but soon it became clear that she had really vanished, and Sebastian’s brow darkened. Worse still, some of the guests had realised what was happening and joined in the search with half-malicious interest.

‘Damn them!’ Sebastian said with soft violence. ‘I don’t want this all over town. Where the hell is she?’

‘What about those doors over there?’

‘They lead to the part of the house I use for business. Catalina never goes there. Besides, they’re always kept locked.’

‘This one isn’t,’ Maggie said, trying a handle and finding herself in a corridor.

A plump middle-aged man called Marcos was advancing on them, an insincere smile on his face. He was a political opponent of Sebastian, and-to quote Catalina-a creep.

‘The poor young lady has probably gone to lie down. Is this where you keep your study? A hotbed of secrets, I’m sure.’ He headed for the next door.

‘No!’ Maggie cried. For suddenly everything had become clear to her, and she knew what was about to happen. If only Catalina had had the sense to lock the door behind her…

But she hadn’t. The next moment Marcos had pulled Sebastian’s study door open, revealing Catalina standing there, locked in a passionate embrace with José.

Time seemed to stop. In that awful pause, a gaggle of fascinated spectators crowded after them into the room. Both Catalina and José seemed too frozen to move. Her elaborately arranged hair had been torn down and hung in disarray about her shoulders. One shoulder of her dress was pushed down, almost exposing a white, beautiful breast. Her lipstick was smeared and her eyes had the cloudy look of a woman driven to madness by kisses.

Of the two, it was the girl who pulled herself together first. Stepping forward, she faced the crowd accusingly.

‘What are you staring at? Have you never seen a woman in love before? This is José. He loves me and I love him. I’m going to marry him.’ She whirled on Sebastian. ‘Him, not you!’

‘Be silent!’ Sebastian said warningly.

‘I won’t be silent. Who do you think you are to bring me here and say I must marry you, whether I like it or not?’

‘I never-’

‘You did, you did! What choice did I have? The great Sebastian de Santiago favours me, and I’m supposed to faint with the honour. Well, I say no! I won’t marry you. I hate you.’

A guffaw of laughter broke from the ever-increasing crowd. As though the sound was the last straw, Catalina’s courage collapsed and she flung herself, sobbing, into José’s arms.

Sebastian took a step forward to Catalina, but in the same moment something snapped in Maggie. Moving quickly, she placed herself in front of the two young people.

‘Leave them alone,’ she told Sebastian quietly. ‘Whatever you have to say, this isn’t the time or place. And you-’ she addressed the grinning spectators ‘-have you no pity for her? She’s a child. She should never have been brought to this. How dare you stand there and enjoy her misery? You should be ashamed, all of you.’

Sebastian was as pale as death, but when he spoke he was in command of himself. ‘As you say, this isn’t the time or the place. Please take Catalina away and look after her. You-’ he indicated José ‘-have abused the hospitality of my house and will leave immediately.’

Maggie put a gentle arm about Catalina and led her away. José looked confused. ‘Get out of here while you’re still safe,’ Sebastian told him savagely.

The next moment he’d become the host again, smiling, ushering everybody out, apologising for the early end to the party. It wasn’t hard to get rid of the guests. Don Sebastian de Santiago was too rich, too powerful, too handsome, not to have enemies, and they were all eager to start spreading the hilarious news.

When the last guest had gone and Maggie had finished calming first an hysterical Catalina, and then an hysterical Isabella, she returned downstairs and faced Sebastian in his study.

She hadn’t known what to expect, but she was unprepared for what awaited her. The man whose gentle resignation had touched her heart earlier had vanished. In his place was a stranger with glittering, hate-filled eyes.

‘Do you think I don’t know who to blame for this?’ he said in a hard, icy voice.

‘The only person to blame is yourself,’ Maggie told him firmly.

‘Who told me that she would make this happen? Who warned me weeks ago that she would work to undermine me, and humiliate me before the world? Like a fool I didn’t believe her. I trusted her, and I tell you that never again will I trust a woman.’

As his meaning became clear, Maggie turned on him in outrage. ‘Do you mean me?’

‘Who else? You threatened to do all in your power to make Catalina betray me. Don’t deny it.’

‘I said I’d try to open her eyes. I never meant anything like this to happen.’

‘Don’t lie to me!’ he said savagely. ‘You practically threw her into that pretty boy’s arms. You invited him to this house, you told him about your skiing trip so that he could follow, and when I found him there you told me it was you he was chasing.’

‘Because I believed it,’ she cried. Horrified, she was beginning to see how everything looked.

‘You told him you were going to Sol y Nieve.’

‘Only in passing. It wasn’t a hint for him to follow.’

‘To be sure, I believe you,’ he said bitterly.

‘How dare you call me a liar?’ Maggie snapped.

‘That is nothing to what I would like to call you. I’ve been insulted in front of the world, and that lies at your door, you scheming, manipulative witch.’

‘It wasn’t like that. It was a chapter of accidents, and-’

‘To think that I brought you into this house!’ he brooded, not seeming to hear her.

‘And I didn’t want to come,’ she reminded him. ‘But you were so set on having your own way that you mowed me down, as you do everyone. You brought me here as your fiancée’s chaperone, and I hadn’t been under your roof two days before you tried to seduce me.’

‘Don’t talk like an ignorant girl, because you’re not one. You’re a woman of the world who’d only take a man to her bed as an equal.’

‘But I didn’t take you to my bed. And how glad I am now that I didn’t. To you it’s nothing but a kind of power game and, I told you before, you’ll never have power over me.’

‘No, you prefer the power to be on your side,’ he said, his eyes glinting with a strange light. ‘You demonstrated that very effectively tonight.’

‘How can I make you believe that it wasn’t some kind of conspiracy?’ she demanded.

‘Don’t try. It was all just a little bit too convenient to be an accident.’

Maggie sighed. ‘Believe what you like, Sebastian. You will anyway. Let’s just make an end of this.’

‘And how do you suggest we do that?’

‘I’d have thought it was obvious. It’s time for me to go. You must be longing to see the last of me.’

He stared at her. ‘Do you really think you’re going to simply walk out of here without putting right the injury you’ve done me?’

‘How can I do that? If you think I’m going to bully Catalina into marrying you-’

He made a gesture of impatience. ‘Of course not. Our marriage is impossible now. But there’s still the inconvenient matter of the cathedral, the archbishop and several hundred guests, all arranged for ten days’ time.’

‘You’ll have to cancel them. People will understand.’

‘Oh, yes, they’ll understand-and they’ll laugh themselves sick.’

‘Well, what else can you do? It’s happened now.’

‘Don’t be stupid, Margarita. The answer must be as obvious to you as it is to me. I have arranged to be married on the sixteenth, and that’s what I mean to do. Anything else would simply give the town more cause for derision.’

‘But you haven’t got a bride,’ she said incredulously, wondering if she was dealing with a deaf man. ‘What are you going to do? Call in one of your conquests to make up the numbers? Will any woman do?’

The strange light was there in his eyes again. ‘Not any woman,’ he said. ‘You.’

She stared at him. Then something caught in her throat and she forced herself to give a brief, choking laugh.

‘I’m not laughing,’ he said quietly.

‘You’re right. It’s the unfunniest joke I’ve ever heard.’

‘I was never further from making jokes in my life. You don’t understand Spanish honour. Perhaps your race has no honour, but here it’s a deadly serious matter. The one who does the injury is the one who makes reparation. You have injured me, and it is you, and nobody else, who must make it right.’

‘I think you must have gone mad,’ she said coldly.

He nodded. ‘Maybe that’s it. My brain is whirling with so many terrible thoughts that perhaps I’ve gone mad. But beware my madness, Margarita, because it will brook no opposition. A madman isn’t civilised. A madman will do whatever he has to in order to gain his end.’

‘Then he’d better listen to some common sense,’ she flashed. ‘It’s not me who’s forgotten that this is Spain, but you-this is one of the most bureaucratic countries in the world. First we would have to apply to the authorities for permission, and that can take a month-’

‘I have friends who will see that it doesn’t.’

‘Oh, yes, your friends in high places. Will they also get my birth certificate from England, and translate it into Spanish, and my husband’s death certificate?’

‘That will be Alfonso’s job.’

‘It’s impossible in the time.’

‘He’ll leave for England first thing tomorrow morning.’

‘And so will I.’

He laid a hand on her arm. ‘No,’ he said, so quietly that she almost didn’t hear. ‘You will stay here, because in ten days’ time, we are going to be married.’

She began to sense the force of his will. He spoke softly because his steely inflexibility left no need for noise. Sebastian had said what he wanted, and that was what he would have. Meeting his eyes, it was almost possible to believe that she would meekly do his will.

Almost. But she too had a core of strength deep within that would tolerate no surrender. It asserted itself now, making her throw him off.

‘We are not going to be married,’ she said clearly. ‘I’m sorry for what’s happened to you, but I think you brought it on yourself. We’ll never agree on this, and the sooner I’m gone the better. I’ll say goodbye now, because I’m going very early tomorrow, and we won’t see each other again.’

She half expected him to stop her, but he only stood in silence as she walked out of the room.

‘Are you really going to leave me?’ Catalina asked mournfully as she watched Maggie packing.

‘Now, you stop that! You’ve got your own way tonight, so don’t ask me to feel sorry for you.’

‘How have I got my own way? Sebastian says he won’t let me marry José.’

‘What did you expect him to say, after the way you dumped him?’ Maggie demanded. After having urged Catalina to just this course, she now found herself exasperated at the girl’s youthful egotism.

‘You wanted me to dump him.’

‘Not in front of nearly six hundred people. Why couldn’t you have spoken to him quietly?’

‘I lost my nerve. Anyway, I never meant to be found like that.’

No, Catalina would never mean anything, Maggie realised. Despite her fire and charm, she wasn’t a strong character. She would let things drift until they reached a crisis, but she wouldn’t voluntarily confront the crisis.

‘I suppose I needn’t ask where you went while I was having dress fittings?’ Maggie added.

‘I went to visit José. We loved each other from the moment you introduced us-’

‘All right, there’s no need to rub it in that I played a part in this. I suppose he really came up to Sol y Nieve to see you?’

‘Oh, yes, only then Sebastian was there, and we had to snatch a few moments of love under his nose.’

‘If you don’t stop seeing yourself as the heroine of a tragic romance, I shall get cross. Sebastian isn’t an ogre, even if he acts like one sometimes. You’re eighteen, legally of age. He can hardly stop you getting married.’

‘He controls my fortune until I’m twenty-one,’ Catalina said tragically.

‘Well, if José’s so worried about your fortune, you’re better off without him,’ Maggie said, speaking more sharply than Catalina had ever heard her before.

She had never felt so little charity towards the girl, who seemed to have no understanding of the earthquake she’d caused in Sebastian’s life. Despite his outrageous accusations and demands Maggie felt he was entitled to more sympathy than he was getting. He was certainly right about one thing. The world would laugh itself silly at his public humiliation.

Her packing was finished now. In a few hours she would be free of this place, its emotions and tensions that threatened to tear her apart. She switched off the light and stepped out onto the balcony. Down below she could see the lights, and their reflections in the water. After the turbulence of the evening, the place was silent and deserted.

No, not quite deserted. The man who sat by the water was so still that at first Maggie didn’t see him. He might have been made of stone, like the birds who flanked the pool. Once she’d discerned his outline she could see him clearly under the lights, a man who had lost his bride, honour, dignity and reputation in one night.

That was nonsense, she told herself. Other men had been jilted before without making a major tragedy of it. He didn’t even love Catalina, and much of it was his own fault.

But they were rationalisations, and they had no power to quell her twinge of sympathy. His attempt to coerce her into marriage had been disgraceful, but she should allow for the feelings of a man at the end of his tether. Impulsively Maggie left her room and went downstairs.

The ruins of the party were all around. She found two clean glasses, filled them with wine and went quietly out to the courtyard, moving so quietly that he didn’t hear her. For a moment she caught a glimpse of his face and what she saw made her catch her breath. All the arrogance had been stripped from it, leaving behind only a kind of desolation. It was as though he’d retreated into his own inner world, and found nobody there but himself.

And that was true, she thought. He had power, but no warmth. Respect, but no love. Now, perhaps, he didn’t even have respect.

He glanced up and saw her, giving her a slight frown of surprise. She held out a glass and he took it. ‘Thank you,’ he said with a touch of wryness. ‘How did you know that I needed this?’

‘I guessed.’ She smiled to let him know that all was forgiven.

‘Have you got one? Yes? Then what do we drink to? Your last evening?’

‘It’s for the best.’

‘If you say so.’

‘Well, you must admit, it was a mad idea.’

‘It seemed to have some merit at the time.’

‘It was the voice of desperation,’ she informed him. ‘But Don Sebastian de Santiago only listens to the voice of reason.’

‘Are you making fun of me?’ he asked in a strained voice.

She laid a hand on his shoulder. ‘No, I wouldn’t do that.’

‘Of course, I should have listened to you in the first place. I admit it. Do you think it makes it any easier to know that I set myself up for this?’

‘No. It makes it far, far harder to bear,’ she said gently.

Suddenly they were in darkness. The lamps around the water had gone out. Sebastian gave a grunt.

‘They’re on a time-switch. I’d forgotten. Let’s go inside. You can go on talking reason to me. Maybe I’ll even come to believe it.’