Rebecca Stratton - Castles in Spain Page 2

  The set mouth, she noticed with some surprise, did not tighten disapprovingly as she expected it to, but briefly flicked up at one corner in a ghost of a smile, although he did not turn his head. 'I am sure of it, senorita, but if you will allow me, I will be your guide while you are here.'

  Holly looked startled, taken aback by the offer and a little ashamed of her jibe. Then she looked at the arrogant profile and wondered if he was merely being polite to his stepmother's guest. 'That's very kind of you,' she said. 'If you're sure it won't be—'

  'I will arrange it whenever it suits you best, senorita.'

  'Thank you.' She glanced at him again, and half smiled to herself. Being polite and obliging as he was now, she thought, Marcos Delgaro was a very attractive man. In fact, if she was quite honest with herself, he was the most overpoweringly, sexually attractive man she had ever met and the realization made her silent again.

  Her first glimpse of the Castillo de la Valeroso came as something of a surprise. For some reason she had expected it to be perched high in the mountains somewhere, and surrounded by rugged and rocky country. Instead it was set amid the tree-clad hills above a small village, looking down over a rich fertile valley whose acres of vineyards, and lush pastures were irrigated by an artificially made river, damned and channelled like those she had seen nearer the coast.

  The castle itself was everything she had expected and more, with tall towers and turrets in yellowish grey stone that looked mellow and tranquil in the hot sun. It looked exactly like something from a fairy-tale and she instinctively gave a cry of pleasure at the sight of it.

  'It impresses you, senorita?' The quiet question took her by surprise and she turned and looked at him, a wide smile lighting her eyes.

  'It's quite beautiful!'

  Her uninhibited response brought a glimpse of white teeth in the dark face, and the revelation of it so surprised her that she stared at him for a moment after he had turned his head away again. She felt a sudden lightness in her heart at the sight of that smile, and could not understand her own reaction.

  'It is over five hundred years old,' Marcos Delgaro told her. 'And the Delgaro family have lived in it for most of that time.'

  'How wonderful!' She had not meant to sound quite so naively impressed, and she did not miss the look in the sideways glance of the black eyes as he turned the big car into a wide tree-bordered driveway. 'It's Moorish in origin, isn't it?' she ventured, her knowledge coming from her aunt's letters, but perhaps he would not know that and think her more learned than she was. Though why she should bother to try and impress him she could not imagine.

  He glanced at her again and one dark brow was raised as if in comment. 'You are very knowledgeable, Senorita Gilmour!'

  Holly never knew what made her confess the truth, but she spoke without hesitation. 'Aunt Nan told me about it in one of her letters,' she said, and he nodded.

  'I see.'

  Those very dark features too. she ventured to guess, were probably Moorish in origin. That arrogant profile probably owed its hawklike pride to the Moorish conquerors of eighth-century Spain who had impressed their power, their culture and their dusky looks on the people they had ruled over for seven hundred years. There was the look of a conqueror in that autocratic head and the craggy, ruthless features and she felt a sudden shiver run through her body when a sudden sharp corner flung her against him.

  'I'm - I'm sorry!' She apologized hastily, startled as much by her own reaction as by the unexpected turn.

  'Why do you not make use of the handle beside you?' he asked. 'Then you would not be thrown off balance.'

  'Yes, I'm sorry I didn't.'

  'There are a number of these sharp turns on the private road,' he warned her, and Holly hastily grabbed the leather handle on the door and hung on tightly when he put the car into another tight turn. Expert as Marcos Delgaro obviously was, driving along a road like this was hair-raising to say the least. Briefly those white teeth flashed again against the dark brown of his face.'Perdone, senorita,' he said softly.

  Holly refused to acknowledge the swift breathtaking way her heart flipped over when she saw that smile again, and kept her eyes on the castle ahead of them, constantly appearing and disappearing behind the palms and other trees that bordered the private road. 'I'm very excited about seeing Aunt Nan again after so long,' she said.

  'You have not seen her for ten years, is it not so?'

  'Just about ten years,' Holly agreed. 'I'm - I'm almost nervous of meeting her again after so long.'

  He cast her a brief glance over one shoulder, and his mouth twitched without actually smiling again. 'There is no need for you to be nervous at all, Senorita Gilmour. Dona Ana is exactly as she was when she first came here to nurse my father ten years ago. She does not change.'

  'I'm glad,' Holly said simply.

  For a moment, while they drove along a straight section of the winding driveway up to the castle, he turned his head and looked at her fully for the first time, and the black eyes actually showed some sort of appreciation of her looks. 'You, I think, senorita,' he said softly, 'are not the same as you were ten years ago.'

  Even that brief, almost offhand scrutiny sent her heart thudding wildly in her breast again, and Holly was appalled that he could have such an effect on her, especially after such short acquaintance. There was something darkly and excitingly different about Marcos Delgaro that she was going to find very difficult to ignore.

  'I'm very different from what I was ten years ago,' she said. 'There's quite a lot of changes between a child of twelve and a woman of twenty-two.'

  One brow flicked briefly at her in curiosity. 'You are very young to be travelling so far alone, senorita. I am surprised that your family permit you to do so.'

  The hint of criticism was enough to incite Holly to protest and she turned indignant blue eyes on him. 'I'm perfectly capable of travelling alone, Senor Delgaro, and my family have no hesitation in trusting me!'

  Surprisingly a hint of amusement showed for a moment in the black eyes that looked at her, and again the white teeth showed momentarily in his dark face. 'I was not referring to the trust put in yourself, senorita, but in my countrymen.' He drove the car along in front of an impressive flight of stone steps with huge iron- studded double doors at the top, and braked to a halt, then turned in his seat to face her for a moment. His black eyes raked over her with a glittering insolence that brought swift colour to her cheeks. 'Never underestimate us, senorita, you would be very unwise to do so,' he said softly.

  Holly was too stunned for a moment to do anything but stare, with parted hps and wide eyes, at the tall arrogance of his back as he got out of the car and came round to open the door for her. 'Thank you.' Her voice was quiet and surprisingly meek as she allowed him to help her from her seat and she found the firm, confident clasp of his hand caused further disturbing thoughts to enter her head.

  'No hay de que, senorita!'

  The double doors at the top of the steps opened suddenly and gave her no time to ponder on the meaning of his reply, and a woman came down the steps swiftly, despite a rather dumpy figure. A moment later

  Holly was clasped in the friendly and familiar hug she remembered from childhood.

  'Holly, my baby! Oh, it's so good to see you!' Warm, kindly blue eyes regarded her steadily for a moment, then gradually misted over, and Holly was hugged again to that ample bosom that had so often consoled her when she was a schoolgirl. 'Let me look at you, baby!'

  Holly was conscious of Marcos Delgaro's black eyes watching the reunion with a faint hint of ironic amusement which she disliked because it made her feel oddly shy and uneasy. 'I'm not a baby now, Aunt Nan,' she told her, glancing at that dark, interested face from the shadow of her lashes. 'I'm a grown woman!'

  'So you are!' Her aunt put a hand to touch her cheek gently, smiling fondly. 'And such a pretty one too, isn't she, Marcos? Isn't she lovely?'

  'Indeed she is, Dona Ana.' The deep, quiet voice offered only approval and H
olly could feel the scrutiny of those black eyes. Never, she thought, had anyone ever made her feel as nervous and unsure of herself as Marcos Delgaro did and she wished he would go and leave her alone with her aunt.

  Aunt Nan had changed less than Holly expected and that at least was something of a relief. She was still plump and smiling and there seemed very little more grey in her light brown hair Her friendly blue eyes were still clear and bright and apparently did not yet need spectacles. Most important of all, to Holly, she was so obviously glad to see her.

  'Come along in, darling!' Her aunt put an arm around her shoulders as she took her up those wide, impressive steps to the wide open doors. 'Don't be overawed by the grandeur of the castle. I was at first, but I soon got over it. It's a home, like anywhere else, and you're very, very welcome!'

  Thank you,' Holly said softly, hoping Marcos Delgaro would not catch her words. 'I'm relieved to hear it'

  'But, my dear, of course you're welcome!' Her aunt smiled curiously at her. 'Whatever made you think you weren't?'

  'I don't really know,' Holly confessed, and turned to see that they were alone at last, Marcos Delgaro having apparently gone to organize the disposal of her luggage. 'I - I just thought that Senor Delgaro didn't-'

  Her aunt's familiar laughter cut her short, and a hug reassured her. 'You mustn't take Marcos at face value, darling,' she told Holly. 'He isn't nearly as autocratic as he gives the impression of being at first sight. Confidentially,' she added with a soft chuckle, *he rather frightened me at first sight!'

  'You?' Holly started at her unbelievingly. 'But you were—'

  'Fair, fat and forty!' her aunt laughed blithely. 'But even ten years ago Marcos had quite an air about him, my dear, and I almost said no to my dear Jose because I wondered what Marcos would say to his father marrying a foreigner, and after such a short time too.' She laughed delightedly at her own impulsiveness. 'I rather surprised myself too,' she confessed. 'And I can well imagine what a stir it caused among the family at home.'

  'It did rather,' Holly smiled. 'But we knew you'd be sensible enough to know what you were about, Aunt Nan.'

  'Oh, I knew very well what I was about!' Nan Delgaro assured her quietly. She looked around the vast and beautiful hall they were in, and then at Holly. 'Well, darling, how do castles in Spain compare with your preconceived ideas?"

  'This one's quite beautiful,' Holly said unhesitatingly. 'It's simply lovely - I thought so when I first caught a glimpse of it as we turned into the approach road up here.'

  'And you told Marcos so, I hope,' her aunt smiled. 'He's very proud of his heritage, and very Spanish about it.'

  'I did mention it.' She looked around the hall and shook her head. 'It's all rather hard to believe that you're mistress of a castle, Aunt Nan.'

  Exquisite tiles covered the floor, the azulejos of the Moors, bright and colourful and with beautiful designs. White, almost stark walls, with portraits of men as proudly arrogant as Marcos Delgaro, and obviously his ancestors, had wrought iron holders for the electric lights that now did the service of candles and oil lanterns of previous times. It was so vast and high-ceilinged that Holly gazed upwards in amazement.

  The staircase was magnificently wide and carpeted for most of its width, covering the worn stone beneath that had been trodden with the feet of the Delgaro family for almost five hundred years. A beautifully wrought, iron balustrade swept upwards with it and gave yet another aspect of beauty to this quite incredible place.

  'I just can't believe it,' Holly said again, shaking her head. 'It's - it's like something out of another age. I'd no idea there were people still living in surroundings like this.'

  'It is rather fantastic,' her aunt agreed. 'And it took me a little time to get used to it, but it's just like home to me now, and I love it here. But I have Jose, of course, that makes a big difference.'

  'Of course.' Holly looked at her aunt curiously. 'Didn't he - didn't Senor Delgaro mind his father marrying again?' she ventured, and her aunt shook her head, still smiling, as she walked with her arm tucked through hers.

  'No, darling, of course he didn't. After all,' she made a wry face, 'there's little fear of my producing a stepbrother for him, is there? The family honour isn't at stake because two middle-aged - elderly people, if you like, chose to keep one another company in their later years.'

  'You're not elderly!' Holly laughed, squeezing the arm linked with hers. She felt a sudden surge of affection for the aunt who had changed so little in the passing years. 'Why, you can't be much older than your - your stepson!'

  Aunt Nan laughed, shaking her head firmly. 'Old enough to be his mother, my dear!' she said. 'I suppose from the security of your delicious twenty-two years a man of thirty-six seems like Methuselah, but Marcos is a long way from being elderly, darling, or even middle- aged!'

  'I - I didn't say he was that,' Holly protested. She certainly did not think of Marcos Delgaro as anything but a dangerously attractive man, no matter what age he was, but she had no intention of letting her aunt know that.

  She had not even considered how much older he was than herself, for he was a man on whom any age would sit easily. And definitely at the moment his powerful personal magnetism made it ridiculous to think of him in the way her aunt had suggested. The wonder was that he had not yet taken steps to provide heirs of his own for the family tradition.

  'Now come and meet Jose,' Aunt Nan said softly, breaking into her reverie, and Holly could not help but notice how her eyes shone softly when she mentioned her husband. Aunt Nan was very much in love, however old she was.

  A pair of incredibly tall double doors opened off the far end of the hall, and her aunt opened them both wide as they approached, closing them carefully before turning to follow Holly across the room to where a man sat in a chair near the window

  It was a grand, impressive room, as one would expect in such a place, not cosy, for such a thing was impossible in a room of that size, but comfortable for all that. Thick Turkish carpet softened their tread, and arched windows admitted only the suffused light of the sun, filtered past the pillared balconies that ran along in front of the room above. The pillars, yellowish stone like the rest of the building, and ornately carved, were twined, almost hidden, by the soft purple blossoms of bougainvillea and the scented beauty of scarlet and yellow roses.

  The white walls of the room, as in the hall, were filled with portraits of past generations of Delgaros — dark-visaged men with hawklike countenances and an air of arrogance that Holly somehow found fascinating, despite knowing how disturbing the modern version could be. It was somehow awe-inspiring to have so many of those dark, autocratic faces looking down at her, and Holly felt a slight shiver as she walked across the room.

  The man seated in the armchair near the window seemed, at first sight, to bear a little resemblance to his son, but when one looked more closely it was possible to see the same strong, proud features, now shrunken and aged, but still recognizable.

  Black eyes, sunken into hollow sockets and lined at their corners with pain, turned to them as they came nearer and Holly realized with a start that they could actually see very little. Don Jose Delgaro appeared to be almost blind, and she felt a sudden, unbidden sense of pity when she thought of such a man laid low by sickness and near blindness, for now that she saw him more clearly she could see that he must once have been a man very much like his son was now.

  'Jose, mi amado,' Aunt Nan said softly, laying one hand on his shoulder. 'I've brought Holly to see you.'

  'Ah, si!' A long thin hand reached out towards her and, without hesitation, Holly put her own into it and allowed herself to be drawn closer to the ornate gilt chair and the man in it. 'Please forgive me for not rising, Senorita Gilmour, you will understand that I am not able to rise without assistance.'

  'Yes, of course, Don Jose, I understand.' She smiled down at the dark, gaunt features and glittering eyes and suddenly felt something of her aunt's admiration for the man. He was so proud, so unbowed by his mis
fortune, and yet so helpless. It was a combination that inspired admiration and affection and she knew that her aunt would have been immediately affected by it, and unhesitating about marrying him.

  'You are most welcome to the Castillo de la Valeroso, senorita. Please stay as long as you would like to. I know that my wife would welcome your staying.'

  'You're very kind, Don Jose,' Holly told him softly. 'And the castle is - well, it's all I've ever dreamed a castle in Spain would be. It's beautiful!'

  'Ah, but of course!' Don Jose's white head nodded understanding and the brown pain-wrinkled face creased into a smile. 'It is a saying in England, I believe, is it not? Looking for castles in Spain? A - a kind of dream, si?'

  'Something like that,' Holly agreed. 'And I'm very grateful to you for allowing me to find my castle in Spain, Don Jose, even for a short time.'

  CHAPTER TWO

  It took Holly a moment or two to realize where she was when she woke the following morning. Opening her eyes she looked up hazily at the ceiling above her bed and wondered how there came to be heavy dark beams and dim cool arches where the sun did not reach, then she realized and smiled to herself, snuggling down luxuriously into the soft pillows.

  The sun was already strong and bright outside, but in her room it was still cool and the glare filtered by slatted shutters that made bright gold stripes on the red carpet. The ancient bed was far more comfortable than the original occupiers had found it, she had no doubt, and she slid her fingers over the beautiful silk cover and sighed. The castle was well up to expectations as far as comfort was concerned, but the Delgaros were a very wealthy family.

  She lay there for a moment thinking about her arrival the day before. It was lovely to see Aunt Nan again, and she liked Don Jose, her uncle, she supposed, since he was married to her aunt. The only one she had reservations about was Marcos Delgaro, and those reservations were influenced as much by wariness as by dislike, she freely admitted. He was the most disturbing man she had ever met, and she wondered how much more so she would find him when she had been at the castle a little longer and knew him better.