The Dragon's Cave (17 page)

The house was in darkness. Megan didn’t bother to turn on any of the lights, but crept up the stairs to her room, shutting the door with a little dick behind her. The ornate bed looked immense in the shadowed darkness, shrouded in the curtains that fell from the coronet near the ceiling. Megan crossed over to it and switched on the bedside light. Immediately, the room was transformed, the shadows banished.

Megan flung herself full-length across the bed, turned slowly over on to her back and stared up at the gilt coronet and the ornate ceiling above it. Carlos, too, must have lain on this bed often, she thought. Probably he, too, had taken refuge here from his step mother. She wondered what it was that he would say to her about her singing with the band. It ought to be easy to explain to him that the band would never get anywhere without her, that it was her singing that raised them out of the ordinary, and that to get discovered it was important that she should be heard with them. She would tell him about it tomorrow, she thought.

She wriggled her shoulders and began to sing to herself, crooning her way through several old Welsh songs that she had learned from her father as a child. It was then that she noticed a long, thin package on her pillow and she reached out for it, feeling it with her fingers to try to discover what it was. A card dangled from the pretty pink paper and she glanced at it, curious to know who could have put it on her pillow.

This was my mother’s. I shall teach you to use it myself, so don’t bother to ask Margot. Carlos.

Megan blinked at the card, excitement rising within her. She unwound the paper with elaborate care and revealed a silk fan, hand-painted and mounted on an ivory frame that clicked satisfactorily when the fan was opened or shut. She spread it carefully and gazed down at the painted silk. A great number of Spanish wild flowers were displayed, so beautifully that they might have been real had it not been that the years had added a certain dusty darkening to the paint. It was the most exquisite fan that Megan had ever seen—and Carlos had given it to her.

‘I wish to see you in my study when you have finished your breakfast.’

Megan’s eyes sought Carlos’ to find them bleak and very dark. She hoped, without much conviction, that he wasn’t going to be angry with her. She wanted to thank him for the fan and if he was still cross with her she wouldn’t be able to. She had rehearsed exactly what she was going to say to him and she still felt her gratitude to be quite inadequate. If he began by bullying her, she wouldn’t even be able to thank him with the carefully planned speech she had prepared for the occasion.

‘Did you hear me, Megan?’

Margot looked up lazily. ‘I wish you wouldn’t be so autocratic so early in the morning,’ she complained.

‘And what do you want to see Megan about? She is my companion, and if anyone is going to speak to her about last night, it ought to be me, don’t you think?’

‘I didn’t know you objected to my going,’ Megan sighed. ‘You didn’t say anything when Inez asked you if we could go
!
’ She bit her lip, aware that Carlos was watching her closely. She wished she hadn’t mentioned Inez. She had to remember that he was in love with Inez and that eventually he would marry her.

‘My dear,’ Margot laughed, ‘of course
not!
I quite thought that Inez’s parents were going with you
!’

Megan’s eyes dropped. ‘Does it matter?’ she asked, tired of the whole affair.

‘Not
to me
!
’ Margot assured her readily. ‘I never wanted a companion in the first place. More nuisance than you’re worth! Nothing personal, my dear, I assure you, but with two young daughters of my own, I feel
I
have enough on my hands without having to chaperone you as well
!
’

‘I see,’ Megan said stiffly.

‘I’m sure you do,’ Margot went on. ‘Perhaps you ought to have a talk with Carlos.’ Her eyes shone maliciously across the table as she studied her stepson’s totally indifferent face. ‘Perhaps you can find out why he brought you here?’

Megan subsided into an embarrassed silence. She couldn’t bring herself to look at Carlos, but she could well imagine the rigid lines of his face. The silence built up while they all waited for Carlos to say something, anything, but he appeared not to have heard a single word his stepmother had said. He finished his breakfast with all of his normal unhurried indifference and then rose to his feet.

‘
Shall we say in ten minutes?’ he said to Megan.

‘
Very well,’ she said.

Margot watched Carlos leave the room and then she laughed. ‘Poor Carlos! I fancy he bit off more than he can chew with you! I daresay Pilar helped him. She has always loved doing the opposite to pouring oil on troubled waters. I suppose she thought that he would find it amusing to have you here?’

Megan strove to make her voice sound quite normal as she answered. ‘I don’t think so. She thought Carlos would be in Barcelona. I think they were both worried in case you were lonely here by yourself. They thought you’d feel more at home with somebody English with you.’

‘But Carlos is not in Barcelona,’ Margot pointed out.

‘No,’ said Megan. ‘He’s overseeing your new bathroom.’

‘You sound as if you resent his care for me,’ Margot taunted her. ‘I can see that you are in love with him, my dear, but I shouldn’t let him see it if I were you. A man like Carlos is very easily bored, and you’re not very old, are you?’

Megan said nothing. She felt humiliated that Margot should read her so easily and knew that if she knew her young companion to be in love with her stepson, then very likely Carlos knew it as well.

‘If you will take my advice, you won’t try and shift the blame on to Inez, or on to me. Carlos won’t admire you for it, nor would he believe anything against Inez or any member of his family. He is like his father in that way, only more so, because his mother was stiff-necked and Spanish too.’

‘I shall tell him I’m leaving,’ Megan burst out.

‘Do
!’
Margot invited her. ‘I only wish he’d agree to your going
!’

‘He can’t keep me here against my will
!
’

‘Oh, surely not against your will?’ Margot opened her eyes very wide.
‘
Shut the door as you go out, dear.’

Megan was shaking as she knocked on the door of Carlos’ study. She put it off for as long as she could, wishing that she could think of some reason why she should escape from
h
im and his household without another word being said.

‘
Adelante
!’

Megan opened the door a crack, feeling more than a little foolish. The door was
impatiently
pulled out of her hand and she came face to face with Carlos.

‘I—I’m sorry about last night,’ she began at a gallop.

‘
Come in,’ he invited. ‘Sit down. I wish to talk to you.’

‘
Yes?’

He looked amused.
‘
It must be your guilty conscience that’s giving you such a hangdog look.’

She eyed him gravely. ‘Carlos, I must go back to England.’

‘Running away?’

She nodded. ‘I think I am,’ she admitted. ‘I think that’s exac
tl
y what I’m doing.’

‘May one ask why?’

She shook her head. ‘I don’t think so,’ she said with a quaint dignity.
‘
I
sn’t it enough that your stepmother doesn’t want, or need, a companion? She—she doesn’t like me.’

If she had hoped that he would reassure her as to her popularity with his relations she was destined for disappointment.

‘
No,’ he agreed, ‘she doesn’t.’ He smiled at her.
‘
She doesn’t like you at all. I wonder why not?’

‘Oh, I can tell you that
!
’ Megan said with a kind of harsh bitterness.
‘
She doesn’t know what I’m doing here, and I don’t either! You made her have me as a companion, and she doesn’t know what to do with me. Why did you?’

Carlos sat down elegantly behind his desk. His dark green eyes looked her up and down, the intimacy of his expression making her blush a little.

‘You’re growing up,’ he murmured.

Megan felt a sudden urge to stick out her tongue at him, to show him that she wasn’t grown up at all, but she didn’t do it. She sat down on the nearest chair, smoothing her skirts down over her knees, a hopeless task, for they were much too short, and pretended that she didn’t know that Carlos was still watching her.

‘Why did you?’ she repeated.

He shrugged his shoulders. ‘An impulse, I suppose.’

‘An
impulse
? But you can’t rearrange people’s whole lives on impulse, c-can you?’ She hoped she
sounded indignant rather than hurt, for she was hurt, though she would have been a great deal more hurt if she had believed him, she reflected. She didn’t relish being no more than a charitable impulse.

‘
To her surprise, Carlos looked more amused than ever. ‘Do I have to tell you?’ he asked.

‘
Yes, I think you do.’

‘
Very well then.’ He tipped his chair back, his expression mocking. ‘I was overcome by jealousy when I saw you in Tony’s arms and I thought I’d make sure that he couldn’t have you—’

‘
Until you’d looked me over and seen if you wanted me yourself?’ she suggested, more than a little shocked.

‘Something like that,’ he said dryly.

‘
I don’t believe a word of it
!’
she exclaimed. ‘You’d never seen me before
!
’

‘
How do you know?’

She sat very still. ‘Had you?’

‘As a matter of fact I had. I had been in the Witch’s Cauldron earlier and I heard you sing.’

‘Oh,’ she said.

‘I saw you with your parents shortly after. It was easy to see that they were not exactly behind your career. I merely took advantage of that fact.’

‘But why?’

‘I had my reasons. I thought I was going to be in Barcelona for most of your stay here and I didn’t want Margot turning my mother’s house upside down because of an old resentment that she can’t forget. I thought you had sufficient character to see that she didn’t do that.’

‘But
I
couldn’t prevent
her
!’

‘Not on your own, but I should have been behind you in the last resort. The house needs modernising, but not in Margot’s way. I like what you did to the little sitting-room, for instance.’

Megan stared at him doubtfully.
‘
But you didn’t know me
then
,’
she insisted.

He smiled. ‘I
think
I did.’

‘On the strength of a couple of songs?’

‘A little more than that.’

She hesitated, trying to remember exactly what she had said to him that first, cold, snowy night. ‘I can’t think what.’

‘
Some day I’ll tell you,’ he teased her. ‘When you’re quite, quite grown up
!’

‘I’m grown up now,’ she sighed. ‘And I’m going back to England whatever you say. Carlos, I have to go
!’

He frowned. ‘Not quite yet,’ he said. ‘I have to go to Barcelona for a few days and I want you here while I’m gone. I’ll bring Pilar back with me when I come. If you still want to, you can go back to England then.’

‘
Thank you,’ she said simply.

The amusement came back into his eyes.
‘
You may not want to go,’ he warned her.

‘
I think I shall. Nobody really wants me here, not your stepmother, nor Inez, nor—’

‘Has Inez been unkind to you?’ he demanded.

‘No, of course not,’ she denied uncomfortably. But she can’t understand why you brought me here either. I must say, I don’t think it was very kind of you, Carlos, to tell her how we met! You might have known what she would think
!
’

The amusement left his face, leaving it stem and withdrawn. ‘And what does she think?’ There was a dangerous edge to his voice that made Megan blink. She cast him a quick look of disapproval, wondering that he should ask. What should his
fiancée
think under the circumstances?

‘
I think she would prefer to be the centre of your attention. You’re not very attentive, are you?’

‘Is there any reason why I should be?’

Her eyes widened. ‘I don’t believe you care about her—about
anyone
—as a person in their own right! We’re all puppets for you to manipulate to suit your own convenience! I’m thankful that I shall never marry a Spaniard! I think you’re all hateful! You expect every woman to hang on you
r
every word and you don’t care about them at all! All you want is to amuse yourself with them and for them to be there when you want them, but you don’t care a rap for their feelings
!’

He laughed.
‘
I have to confess that I have not interested myself much in Inez’s thoughts and feelings,’ he admitted, completely unrepentant.

‘It’s nothing to be proud of
!
’ she reproved him fiercely
.

His eyebrows rose haughtily.
‘
Indeed?’

‘You don’t know what loving anyone means
!
’ Megan went on, thoroughly ruffled.

‘Is that so?’ he drawled. ‘Do you?’

Megan gave him an outraged look. She would have flung herself headlong into further speech, but something in his expression prevented her. ‘N-no,’ she admitted.
‘
At least—’

‘
Yes?’ he prompted her.

She chewed on her lip resentfully. ‘That is,’ she amended, ‘I do know what loving someone means, only I’ve never been in love with anyone.’

‘There is a difference,’ he agreed. ‘I have been in love often and often, but loving someone is something else again. I think I have only loved my mother.’

Megan took a deep breath. ‘Don’t you love Inez?’ she burst out.

‘
No,’ he said.

She turned this over in her mind, feeling sorry for the Spanish girl and, in a way, for Carlos himself.

‘I think you love Pilar,’ she said at last.
‘
She wouldn’t have such an affection for you if you didn’t.’

His expression softened. ‘Yes,’ he agreed, ‘I am fond of both my sisters.’

Megan twisted her fingers together thoughtfully.

‘Haven’t you any particular affection for Inez?’

‘Should I have?’ he retorted.

She nodded quickly.
‘I
don’t know what you mean by loving,’ she told him abruptly.
‘
You said your wife would be loved as the mother of your children, but won’t she want to be loved for herself?’

‘
Would you?’ he enquired.

She nodded again.

‘
Then you probably will be,’ he said. The warmth of his voice made her heart beat in an unfamiliar and unwelcome way.

‘I’d hate to be chosen for—for my pedigree and general suitability!’ She wondered why he laughed, but she didn’t dare look at him in case that certain look was back in his eyes.
‘
Don’t you want your wife to love you at all?’ she ended, her voice breaking.

‘
I intend that she shall love me.’ He stood up, coming round the desk towards her.
‘
She shall love me devotedly and without reservation—’

‘But you won’t love her!’ Megan protested.

‘
I haven’t said that. There are many kinds of love. I have told you that my wife will not go unloved.’ He put out his hands to her, but she couldn’t bring herself to put her own hands in his and put them instead behind her back, like a child.
‘
Nor will I choose her for her pedigree,’ he promised.
‘
My own pedigree will have to do for both of us
!
’

Megan turned her back on him.
‘
What else did you want to say to me? I thought you were still angry about last night?’

‘So I
am
!’

She turned back to face him, her face anxious.

‘
Because of Inez? But truly she came to no harm—’

‘No, not because of Inez
!
’

She thought about this for a moment. ‘Then why are you angry?’ she asked.

‘I had hoped that you would see this Tony of yours for what he is, that you would have grown up that much while you have been here. But what do I find? That you have learned nothing! That you are happy to sing for him again, whenever he lifts his little finger
!
And I wonder why he has your loyalty, when he has done little to earn it, and then I think you must be a little bit in love with him, no?’

‘No,’ she said. ‘You don’t understand
!
’

‘No, I don’t
!
’

‘
I
like
singing,’ she said in a curious, flat voice. ‘One day I shall sing again. I have to earn my own living. I’m not like your Spanish girls who expect to be supported by their families until they marry. I have to support myself
!
’

‘By allowing this Tony to support you?’

She shook her head. ‘By singing,’ she said.

‘
Very well,’ he answered distantly. ‘But I will ask you not to sing again in public while you are under my roof. When you go back to England you may please yourself. Here, you are in my charge, and I will not have you performing in public. Is that clear?’

‘Yes,’ Megan managed.

She raised her eyes to him and saw that he was looking positively cheerful, as well as being quite unaccountably pleased with himself. How could he, when she felt more miserable than she ever had in her whole life?