yourself have just admitted, so don’t torment yourself by imagining a disaster that didn’t take place. And now I think it will be as well if you go to your room and rest. I understand Vasco has arranged a dinner-party for tonight, so if you are to meet our local friends and acquaintance it is important that you should have an un disturbed hour or so to recover from the journey.”
This time Ilse brightened genuinely, and Caroline guessed that the idea of a dinner-party appealed to her enormously. It would give her an opport unity to wear one of her spectacular dinner-dresses, and as the amount of luggage she had brought with her from England was far more than she would require for a visit of short duration it was plain she not merely intended to stay for some time, but she had quite a number of spectacular outfits in the hand-made wardrobe-trunks and specially constructed suitcases that were being borne by perspiring servants up the stairs.
Two other people had entered the hall, and although they were not introduced to Caroline they acknowledged her existence with polite little bows, and smiled at Richard. They were the Marques’s secretary—to Caroline’s surprise a young woman not much older than herself—and an extremely serious-looking young man who had some connection with the estates, and like Dom Vasco was on the pay-roll of the Marques, although socially far below his level.
While Senhora Lopes tried to control her agitation and get everyone shown to their rooms, Dom Vasco took an almost tender farewell of the widowed senhora , and assured her that he would look forward to seeing her again that evening. And then when she had disappeared round a bend in the graceful staircase, and the housekeeper had given up the unequal druggie of trying to decide which of the two important arrivals, the Marques or his guest, should receive the maximum amount of attention from her, and had gone flying ahead of her along the gallery, Dom Vasco signalled to Caroline that he would like to speak to her for a moment.
The Marques had disappeared into the sala, where refreshments awaited him, and his secretary and assistant estate manager had followed him into the room. Nevertheless, Dom Vasco lowered his voice, as if the subject he wished to discuss was a delicate one, and required a delicate form of treatment.
“The Senhora de Fonteira is unlike what I imagined,” he confessed. “And I think it would be as well if you went to her, and took the child ... ” He glanced vaguely at Richard. “But don’t allow her to become exhausted. See that she rests before dinner.”
Caroline was not actually astonished, but she was surprised. She had already received the strong impression that before Ilse’s English loveliness, her white and gold charm and her touching f emininit y— a strong suit of Ilse’s when she wanted to deceive anyone about her actual toughness and resilience—he had gone down rather like a ninepin. But she would never have believed that such a man who had not hesitated to treat her, Caroline, with scant courtesy when first they met, would have succumbed quite so easily and so obviously . It must have been the desolate widow act—the a doring mother act—that had removed several pairs of scales from his eyes and caused him to see an Englishwoman in very much the same light as he saw Carmelita. As someone full of femininity, helpless and appealing ... although on his own admission C armelita was not helpless. So perhaps Ilse’s effect was even more shattering, something in the nature of a revelation!
“Very well, senhor ,” Caroline replied clearly, and walked away towards the staircase with Richard still gripping her hand.
Dom Vasco seemed to emerge from a bemused kind of trance and called after her:
“You will not forget that you are expected to dine with the rest of us tonight, senhorita ? Put the child to bed early, and leave yourself time to prepare.”
She glanced back at him coldly over her
This time Ilse brightened genuinely, and Caroline guessed that the idea of a dinner-party appealed to her enormously. It would give her an opport unity to wear one of her spectacular dinner-dresses, and as the amount of luggage she had brought with her from England was far more than she would require for a visit of short duration it was plain she not merely intended to stay for some time, but she had quite a number of spectacular outfits in the hand-made wardrobe-trunks and specially constructed suitcases that were being borne by perspiring servants up the stairs.
Two other people had entered the hall, and although they were not introduced to Caroline they acknowledged her existence with polite little bows, and smiled at Richard. They were the Marques’s secretary—to Caroline’s surprise a young woman not much older than herself—and an extremely serious-looking young man who had some connection with the estates, and like Dom Vasco was on the pay-roll of the Marques, although socially far below his level.
While Senhora Lopes tried to control her agitation and get everyone shown to their rooms, Dom Vasco took an almost tender farewell of the widowed senhora , and assured her that he would look forward to seeing her again that evening. And then when she had disappeared round a bend in the graceful staircase, and the housekeeper had given up the unequal druggie of trying to decide which of the two important arrivals, the Marques or his guest, should receive the maximum amount of attention from her, and had gone flying ahead of her along the gallery, Dom Vasco signalled to Caroline that he would like to speak to her for a moment.
The Marques had disappeared into the sala, where refreshments awaited him, and his secretary and assistant estate manager had followed him into the room. Nevertheless, Dom Vasco lowered his voice, as if the subject he wished to discuss was a delicate one, and required a delicate form of treatment.
“The Senhora de Fonteira is unlike what I imagined,” he confessed. “And I think it would be as well if you went to her, and took the child ... ” He glanced vaguely at Richard. “But don’t allow her to become exhausted. See that she rests before dinner.”
Caroline was not actually astonished, but she was surprised. She had already received the strong impression that before Ilse’s English loveliness, her white and gold charm and her touching f emininit y— a strong suit of Ilse’s when she wanted to deceive anyone about her actual toughness and resilience—he had gone down rather like a ninepin. But she would never have believed that such a man who had not hesitated to treat her, Caroline, with scant courtesy when first they met, would have succumbed quite so easily and so obviously . It must have been the desolate widow act—the a doring mother act—that had removed several pairs of scales from his eyes and caused him to see an Englishwoman in very much the same light as he saw Carmelita. As someone full of femininity, helpless and appealing ... although on his own admission C armelita was not helpless. So perhaps Ilse’s effect was even more shattering, something in the nature of a revelation!
“Very well, senhor ,” Caroline replied clearly, and walked away towards the staircase with Richard still gripping her hand.
Dom Vasco seemed to emerge from a bemused kind of trance and called after her:
“You will not forget that you are expected to dine with the rest of us tonight, senhorita ? Put the child to bed early, and leave yourself time to prepare.”
She glanced back at him coldly over her
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