Isle of Desire Read online

  His eyes were wide with wrathful astonishment at her giving him an answer that was so weak.

  ‘You mean to say that you took it for granted that a child of five could swim that far out and get back to the shore?’ A muscle moved at the side of his mouth, betraying anger determinedly suppressed. But his gaze was icily scathing, his whole manner one of censure not unmingled with contempt. ‘What kind of a woman are you to lie there so calmly and tell me this?’

  ‘I’m very sorry,’ was all she could find to say. Misery edged her voice, but obviously the Conde had no intention other than to subject her to a scathing reprimand, and this he did, her misery being ignored. She was hot by the time he had finished what he had to say and it was with some difficulty that she repressed a sudden urge to let him have the truth.

  ‘It wasn’t as if you did anything to save her------’

  The Conde broke off and Laura saw that his emotion had caused this. He was seeing his niece drowned ...

  Laura stared into his face and said uncomprehendingly,

  ‘I didn’t try to save her? I don’t know how you can say a thing like that, Dom Duarte. I was---- ’

  ‘You were swimming away from her when Dona Eduarda saw you. She was horrified at your intention to leave my niece to

  drown------ ’ Again he broke off and Laura noticed that tiny

  beads of perspiration were standing out on his forehead.

  So Dona Eduarda had lied too? Laura, her head throbbing madly with the pain from the wound, suddenly did not care about anything except getting back home to her little flat. It was home, after all, a place that she herself had made, and it offered peace and comfort that had now taken on enormous proportions. To be back, away from these foreign people who told unnecessary lies, spiteful lies.

  Clara she could forgive, and indeed she did forgive her; Dona Eduarda she could neither forgive nor understand. For what reason had she lied? Laura shrugged off the question, giving a deep sigh.

  ‘How long must I stay here?’ she asked, not troubling to put respect into her voice. ‘I naturally have no wish to continue being a trouble to you. ’

  She heard him draw a wrathful breath. But his manner and tone were coldly dispassionate as he said,

  ‘The doctor must decide. He will say when you are fit to travel.’ She felt the tears behind her eyes.

  ‘I hope it won’t be long,’ she said distractedly. ‘I want to go away from here.’

  The Conde rose majestically and left the room; Teresa came in and asked Laura if she wanted anything to eat.

  ‘No, thank you, Teresa.’

  The girl stood by the bed, her underlip caught in her teeth. ‘You’ve had no breakfast, senhorita.’

  ‘I don’t want anything at all.’ Laura looked at her, noticing the compassion on her face. So soft and gentle a face. No wonder everyone liked her. ‘It’s good of you to be concerned, Teresa, but there isn’t anything you can do.’

  The girl hesitated and then,

  ‘You are not the kind of person, senhorita, to entice a little girl out into the sea. And most certainly you’re not the one to swim away and leave anyone to drown. ’

  ‘But I did those things,’ returned Laura, the pain in her head so excruciating now that she felt she could cry out in agony.

  ‘If you say so.’ Teresa’s voice was very quiet; her eyes were questioning. ‘I cannot accuse you of telling untruths, can I?’

  Laura managed to say, in spite of the pain filling her mind,

  ‘You believed at first that I had done those things.’ The girl nodded, but weakly.

  ‘Clara and Dona Eduarda had spoken, and I heard what they said because I was there when Dom Duarte and Dona Eduarda were mentioning it. Perhaps I did believe it,’ she added doubtfully, ‘but perhaps I did not.’

  So she had one friend in this great Palacio, thought Laura, and it was amazing just what comfort the knowledge gave her.

  ‘It’s kind of you to believe in me, Teresa, but I will ask you to keep your opinions entirely to yourself—not mentioning them even to your fiance. Will you promise me this?’

  The girl’s eyes were perceptive.

  ‘I think I see,’ she said after a thoughtful pause. ‘I will do as you ask, senhorita.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘And now—will you in turn do something for me?

  ‘If it is possible—yes, of course I will.’

  ‘Have something to eat.’ It was almost a plea, and Laura felt it would be churlish to refuse when the girl was so very anxious about her. She managed a smile and said yes, she would have some toast and a cup of coffee.

  Two days passed, days of sheer boredom for Laura, as the Conde would not let Teresa stay with her at all. She was given a few English magazines and nothing else. It was plain that the Conde had no time for her, believing as he did that she had enticed Clara out into the sea and then intended abandoning her. Laura’s notebook was returned to her one mealtime, Teresa bringing it in on the tray. On the third day the doctor said she could get up the following afternoon for a few hours. He had called every day and Laura was acutely conscious of the trouble and expense to which she was putting the Conde.

  She now admitted that it had been sheer folly to have come in the first place and, looking back, she could scarcely believe that she could have been so impulsive as to have even contemplated coming out to Torassa. Well, what was done was done and the sooner she could leave the better it would suit her.

  ‘The pain is still bad?’ The doctor asked the question after having taken a look at the injury. When Laura said it was becoming more bearable he said he would give her some tablets which would ease it altogether. ‘These others were not strong, but I had to be cautious. One has to be with drugs.’

  She felt amazingly weak when, the following afternoon, she got up and sat on the balcony, on the comfortable chair which Teresa had procured for her. The sun was warm, the perfumes from the garden sweet and delicate on the air. Birds with bright plumage flew from one tree to another, their song a delight to the ears. Clara, playing hide and seek with Marianna, glanced upwards as she ran across the lawn, and instantly looked away again. Laura, more herself now, felt she must have a word or two with that young lady before she left the Palacio. Forgiveness was all right in its way, but a scolding would not

  come amiss.

  ‘Are you comfortable?’ asked Teresa, coming on to the balcony with a tray on which there was a glass of milk and some biscuits.

  ‘Very. But I don’t think I shall be here long,’ added Laura with a grimace.

  ‘You feel weak?’ The girl’s voice, with its trace of an accent, was gentle and anxious. ‘ You lost a great deal of blood, you know.’

  ‘Yes, I believe so.’ Laura looked at the tray, which Theresa had placed on the table. ‘Thank you for the refreshments,’ she said with a smile.

  ‘I believe that Dom Duarte will be in to speak to you later this afternoon. ’

  ‘Oh ...’ Nerves fluttered slightly. ‘Have you any idea what he wants to say to me?’

  ‘I think,’ answered Teresa guardedly, ‘that it’s about your departure.’

  Laura nodded absently. There was nothing else which the Conde would want to see her about. He came up after she had got back into bed. Dressed casually in a polo-necked white cotton shirt and brown linen slacks, he appeared a little less austere than she had remembered him. His grey eyes flickered over her face, then down to her hands where they rested on the coverlet.

  ‘Teresa tells me that you feel weak?’ Dispassionate tones that might have been for a total stranger. ‘It’s probably because you’ve been lying in bed.’

  ‘Yes, I expect it is.’ She drew a deep breath. ‘Dom Duarte, I am very sorry indeed for all this trouble I’m causing you. I feel exceedingly blameworthy for coming to Torassa. It was stupidly impulsive of me.’

  ‘It’s a pity, senhorita, that you didn’t think a little more about it in the first place.’

  She nodded unhappily.
>
  ‘I agree. But everyone commits an impulsive act some time in their lives.’

  Dom Duarte’s straight black brows had shot up even before she

  had finished speaking.

  ‘Are you making excuses for your precipitate action in coming here, believing as you did that I would condone your deceit?’

  She drew a breath, fervently wishing she were not under such an obligation to him, for nothing would have given her more satisfaction than to forget her tranquil disposition for a space and give him a piece of her mind. He was too arrogant by far, too superior and full of his own importance. A good set-down would perhaps bring him from his lofty pedestal! However, she was under an obligation to him, so she prudently controlled her impulses.

  ‘I’m not making excuses,’ she said, looking at him from where she rested against the white embroidered pillows. ‘But I am trying to say that no one is infallible. It is human to err,’ she quoted defensively. The Conde passed this by unheeded.

  ‘I’ve been speaking with the doctor, who tells me that you will be fit to travel on the plane which leaves Torassa on Monday next. ’

  Five days ... They would not pass quickly enough for Laura. She was nodding, and heard herself say,

  ‘I shall make sure I have my strength back by then, Dom Duarte.’

  ‘I hope so,’ said the Conde, and left the room.

  Laura got up at once, determined to regain the strength that seemed to have left her legs. She dressed and went down to the courtyard, where she found a shady seat beneath the trees.

  She put a hand to her head and frowned. She had always hated bandages, even small ones. Now her head was swathed in them. She fell into a mood of reflection, thinking about Avice and all she would have to tell her, next week, when she returned to England, and that scene of high-rise flats and smoky chimneys, of bustling people and noisy traffic. A voice came to her after a while and she turned her head. Clara ... Laura said, a hint of sharpness in her voice,

  ‘Why are you alone? Where is your nanny?’

  The little girl came forward, her big brown eyes fixed on the bandage.

  ‘I am very sorry,’ she said surprisingly, just the trace of a foreign accent in her otherwise perfect English. ‘Does your head hurt much now?’

  ‘No, not much. Where is Marianna?’

  ‘Ironing my dress—my party dress, or one of them. I’m going to Isabella’s birthday party in a few minutes. My uncle’s taking me in his car. Isabella lives in a big house on the cliff. ’

  ‘Tell me, Clara,’ said Laura sternly, ‘why did you tell a lie about how you came to be in the sea?’

  Clara’s face went a bright pink.

  ‘That’s what I really came to you for. I saw you walking to this place and managed to get away from Marianna for a minute or two. She thinks I’ve gone up to the nursery to fetch my doll. I am very sorry,’ she said again.

  ‘No doubt you are, but I would very much like to know more about it. How did you come to be in the sea?’

  The child’s eyes came alive. It was plain that she was not now troubled about her guilt, but more interested in relating her escapade. Laura listened with interest, learning that Clara, having risen early, donned a swimsuit and went to the shore to collect shells. But then she thought she would like to paddle and went into the water.

  ‘A wave came,’ she went on, ‘just a little wave, but it made me

  fall into the water------ ’ Clara laughed then, and Laura saw that

  this mishap had not troubled the child in the least. ‘It was lovely and warm. I could swim and I went out, thinking I would get to the yacht ’

  ‘The yacht!’ exclaimed Laura. ‘Why, you silly little girl! That yacht was a very long way from the shore!’

  ‘It belongs to Isabella’s father,’ Clara informed her. ‘It did not seem to be far at all.’

  ‘What happened then?’

  ‘I got tired after a while and could not swim. The beach seemed a long way off!’ Clara’s voice became high-pitched as she relived those moments of fear. ‘I thought I would drown—and then you came and held me up.’ The child’s wide intelligent forehead was creased and her mouth quivered. ‘I did not want to tell a lie, but my uncle would have spanked me, and he hurts!’ She looked down, clearly ashamed of herself. ‘I knew, you see, that he wouldn’t spank you, and so—so I told a lie and said I was only in the garden and you said to me, “Come on, Clara, and we’ll go for a swim.” And I said to my uncle that I knew this was wrong and so I would not go with you. But afterwards I did go with you because you kept on asking me to go with you. ’ All this time the child had her head averted, and her words became rather jumbled, spoken as they were, under some stress. ‘I wish I had not told a lie, senhorita, because I like you, and it isn’t nice when my uncle

  talks about you------ ’

  ‘He talks about me?’ The question escaped involuntarily and the child nodded. ‘He said to Aunt Eduarda that you were a nuisance in his home, that you English people had no sense of what was the right thing to do ... ’ Clara tailed off as Laura lifted a hand. ‘Don’t you want to hear any more?’ the child asked.

  ‘No, thank you,’ answered Laura tersely. ‘I think you had better run along to your nanny; she’ll have missed you already.’ Clara seemed to swallow something in her throat. ‘You came to mend some pictures, didn’t you?’

  ‘I said, run along. It wouldn’t do for your uncle to come and find you here, talking to me.’

  ‘I wish you could have stayed to mend the pictures,’ went on Clara, uncomfortable but undaunted. ‘I looked at the pictures, but I couldn’t find one that needed mending. Perhaps Uncle Duarte thinks they are all right as they are?’ Clara looked at Laura for enlightenment, but Laura merely shook her head impatiently. The last thing she wanted was for the Conde to appear and curtly tell the child to return to her nanny. ‘If the pictures were really needing mending ...’ Clara’s voice trailed off once more as Laura made a sharp gesture with her hand. ‘I’ll go,’ she said hurriedly and, turning, she sped away and was lost to view among the trees bordering the courtyard.

  Laura rose from her seat and stood for a while admiring her immediate surroundings. The floor of the courtyard was a picture in itself, being made up of alternating white and red lozenges, the former made from marble, the latter from jasper. These must have been brought to the island from somewhere else, Torassa itself being a coral island. There was a fountain in the courtyard, with weeping cherry trees close to it, their long branches of blossom trailing the ground. Other trees and bushes flaunted colours from delicate pinks to deepest crimson. High ferns provided a green lacing for the fragile beauty of the passion flowers and the delightful bird of paradise. A statue of white marble stood by the fountain, a torch held in one hand, a torch which was lit at night, giving a deep red glow to the more insipid pink of the morning glory bush.

  Laura wandered through the high wide arch and entered the garden. Her legs were still weak, but she was determined to overcome the weakness, and without delay. Nothing must prevent her from leaving Torassa next Monday.

  Dona Eduarda was on the lawn, basking in the sunshine, and she glanced up as Laura appeared, her supercilious eyes remaining much longer on the disfiguring bandage than was necessary. It was as if she were deliberately trying to make Laura feel inferior.

  Laura was undecided whether or not to walk on, with merely a nod in the girl’s direction, but Dona Eduarda spoke, asking Laura how she was feeling now.

  ‘Better, thanks,’ she answered abruptly.

  ‘You had a nasty bump. It’s to be hoped you’re not scarred for life.’

  ‘I don’t think so.’ Laura had no option but to stop, as the Portuguese girl was speaking again, saying that one never could tell with a gash such as Laura had received.

  ‘It was deep, the doctor said, and so you ought to be prepared to find you’ve a nasty scar that might never go away.’ Dona Eduarda had no reason to be spiteful, Laura told herself reasonably, so why w
as she being like this?

  But why had she lied, saying that Laura had been about to abandon Clara when she was in such distress? Laura had had no intention of questioning the girl, but something over which she had no control resulted in her saying,

  ‘I believe you told Dom Duarte that I was swimming away from Clara when you first saw me?’

  Dona Eduarda stared at her unflinchingly and replied,

  ‘I told him what I saw, yes. Is there any reason why I shouldn’t have done so?’ The voice of arrogance grated on Laura’s ears even more than the actual content of the girl’s words. What a thoroughly unlikeable person she was! Laura, unused to such people, was more anxious to leave Torassa than ever.

  ‘What you told the Conde was not the truth,’ she said accusingly.

  ‘Not------!’ Dona Eduarda stared in amazement, her colour

  rising along with her anger. ‘How dare you accuse me of lying? Explain yourself, girl!’ She sat upright in her chair, in an attitude of command. ‘I want to know just what you are insinuating! ’

  Pale but resolute, Laura told her that she had lied when she said she saw her swimming away.

  ‘You know very well that I was holding Clara up, as best I could. I myself am not a swimmer, merely being able to do a few strokes, but I would never have swum away and left a little child to drown.’ The very idea was incredible to Laura’s mind. No one with any compassion at all would commit so callous an act.

  Dona Eduarda listened without so much as a flicker of an eyelid, her composure totally unimpaired by what Laura had said.

  ‘I’m afraid the bang you received affected your brain, Miss Conroy. In view of this I shall overlook your absurd accusation and not demand an apology from you. ’ She relaxed, picked up the magazine which was lying on the grass beside her chair and, opening it, she began to read. Flushing hotly, Laura turned on her heel and strode away, back towards the house, and the sanctuary of her bedroom.