Perchance to Marry (12 page)

Marcus nodded. “I’ll come in my own car.” To Sally and Viola he said, “I’ll be back for lunch. So long.”

Sally watched the two cars slide away and then she turned to where Viola sat under the palms. Her mother looked at her brightly.

“Sorry about that gaffe, darling. I was thinking so busily about the car Marcus promised me, and flower decorations for the Naval Ball, that I didn’t really know what I was saying, till it was out. But don’t worry. Marcus knows you too well to care about a tiny lapse on your part.” Adroitly, she changed the subject. “Did you know he’s a magistrate? Doesn’t it thrill you enormously to know you’re going to marry such a man? If only I’d had such luck at your age!”

Smarting as much for her father’s memory as for any hurt to herself, Sally nodded and went indoors to wash the smell of lilac from her fingers.

* * *

During that weekend there was a faint dampness in the air and a haze hid the sun. A servant told Sally it meant the end of spring and the beginning of summer. On San Palos, April was glorious with summer flowers, the first fruit and a huge variety of salads and vegetables. At the end of June it became really hot and July and August were the “full months,” when fields and vines became bare through harvesting, the earth could be ploughed and the winter crops sown. Two complete seasons of growth, and except for heavier rains the winter was warm and spring like.

Josef Carvallo left Las Vinas unobtrusively. No goodbyes, of course, because he would look in for a meal now and then, and to report progress. With her mother, Marcus and Captain Northwick, Sally drove out to the mansion of a retired Catalan business man for dinner on Saturday, and on Sunday a dozen people came to Las Vinas for lunch.

Marcus was charming to everyone, protective and considerate towards Sally. That afternoon, while others rested, was the first time they had found themselves alone since he had proposed turning the sham engagement into a genuine one. They went down into the garden, walked among the flower beds towards the cypresses, without talking much. Sally guessed he was trying her out. For nearly a week they had been together for much of every day. For fifteen minutes each morning they had visited Dona Inez, and each time they left the
senora’s
room his arm had lain across her shoulder as he pushed her gently in front of him into the corridor. There had been guests galore to see the proprietorial glances, and one gift from him, an impersonal tooled leather writing case packed out with writing materials and with a gold pen and pencil tucked into the appropriate slots.

Now he offered cigarettes and lighted hers before setting the flame to his own. Her hand must have trembled slightly, for he stated calmly.

“I’ll definitely leave it to you to reopen the subject, so stop quivering. What I have to speak about now is only vaguely connected with the thing you haven’t quite accepted. You always look very sweet, but I’d have to be blind and insensitive not to notice that you ring the changes on half a dozen frocks. I want you to get more clothes, Sally.”

She looked down at the path as they moved. “Very well.” Her reply must have surprised him slightly, for a moment or two elapsed before he said, “A few days ago I asked Northwick to telegraph a Barcelona fashion house to send sketches of stuff they have on hand. He’s received them, and if you’ll choose what you’d like and give the series of measurements they ask for, they’ll alter their models accordingly before sending them over with matching underwear and shoes. You’re not to have any silly ideas about accepting the things.”

“I shan’t mind wearing your gifts here at your house,” she said, low-voiced.

He took this in, but did not comment. “Then that’s settled. Northwick left the sketches with me and I’ll send them to your room. Make it at least six outfits, and choose some sort of ball gown thing in white, that you can wear at the Lilac Fiesta.”

“I’ll do that.”

“Good.” He paused. “There’s just one thing I may not have made quite clear enough. When we’re officially engaged I’ll make no more demands on you than I’m making at the moment. That will come gradually, as you become ready for it.”

And as
he
became ready for it, Sally thought bleakly. He had no more wish to make love to her than she had to be made love to by someone whose heart wasn’t in it. Apparently he expected no reply to that, for when they had covered a few more yards he began explaining the history of the gardens. They were back on the slightly formal, very pleasant footing which had prevailed during the last few days.

Viola’s first day at the store was a moderate success, her second very dull and her third not much better. Then on Thursday things began to look up for the weekend; the Naval Ball on Friday and a wedding anniversary party on Saturday. At Las Vinas she was preoccupied, but she did mention that Captain Northwick was expecting Sally for lunch on Saturday.

Marcus had a court session of sorts that Saturday morning and he had been invited to stay for luncheon with the business and naval men of the town. So Viola and Sally drove alone to the square cottage that bulged with nautical monstrosities. But Sally noticed that quite a few of the prints had disappeared from the walls, and the pot of basil had been superseded by a few stiff sprays of pink oleander.

Viola was kind enough not to mention any specific alteration. “You seem much cosier here, Captain,” she said in her smiling, chatty way. “But you won’t mind if I sit with my back to the brass lamp, will you? What is it made of—a piece of deck-rail?”

The Captain, to his credit, took this stoically. Sally was sure the lamp would be cast into the limbo which now held the discarded prints before Viola came again to the cottage. It was really amazing what her mother could accomplish with a single comment. Before the Captain even got round to wondering whether he’d have the courage to think seriously about Mrs. Sheppard, she would have groomed his abode into a presentable, perhaps even acceptable, background for a wife. And he wouldn’t even know it had been happening.

Maybe it was typical of the queer, hazy mood which was so difficult to throw off, that Sally should come round to regarding the idea of her mother’s marrying again without distaste. In England, Viola had been fretful and unwell, longing so much to get away that she had paid fifty pounds she couldn’t easily afford for a nebulous job in Barcelona and uprooted Sally from St. Alun’s. Magically, her mood had lightened during the cruise, and now, secure in a luxury post and playing off a middle-aged business man against a retired naval captain, she was in her element as she had never been before.

Viola had loved her husband as much as it was in her nature to love anyone, but Sally realized now, when her mother was expanding so happily in the sunshine and masculine admiration, that the quiet suburban life of the Sheppards must have irked Viola unbearably as a newlywed after a continental honeymoon she must have been wildly happy; no doubt she had imagined life would be a long succession of honeymoons in exciting places, with Richard taking charge, smoothing the edges everywhere, providing a warm and dependable cocoon. Sally had long ago concluded that her father had worked harder than was normal, so that Viola should go short of nothing she had been used to before her marriage. She thought, a little achingly, of the disillusionment he must have known when, because it was all he could afford, he had taken Viola to Wastwater or Clovelly, and been rewarded by bored sighs.

There was one thing Sally had become sure of on San Palos. Her mother fitted into the island as she had never fitted into the London set; she was like a jewel set in platinum.

After lunch, the Captain took them for a drive out to one of the bays. For exercise, Sally went off along the beach and climbed the rocks which gave a view of the lighthouse she sometimes saw from her window as a wheeling light.

When she got back to the car the others were missing, so she sat inside and waited, watching the curling waves and the lift of the sand in the wind. A couple of island girls in full skirts and blouses went down to paddle and look for shellfish, and not far away some boys eyed them and laughed loudly together to draw the girls’ attention. But when the two walked demurely back up the beach the lads were looking the other way. That was convention on San Palos.

It was nearly five when Viola and the Captain returned from their jaunt. Sally suspected it had not been too successful, for Viola hated walking and the Captain was averse to sitting on rocks.

Viola said, “The Captain is going to take me down to the hall, so that I can give the final touch to the decorations. Going with us, Sally?”

“No, I’d better get back. You’re invited as guests to that anniversary party, aren’t you?”

“Yes. The Captain says he’ll wait for me at the hall and take me home to dress. He’s going to call for me later, too.”

“And what are you doing this evening, Miss Sally?” asked the Captain, in his courteous, stilted tones. “I believe Marcus has an uncle arriving from Majorca?”

“The uncle is bringing other guests—they’re only staying a few days, though. They’re due to arrive this afternoon.”

“I’ll take you home at once, then.” He smiled, paternally. “They’ve probably come to see
you
.”

She smiled at him and shook her head. “They’ve been waiting for Dona Inez to be well enough to see them. She’s done splendidly during the past two weeks and Dr. Suarez said it would be good for her to have more visitors; she wants them, herself.”

Viola said urgently, “You must slip indoors the back way and dress up a bit before you meet them, Sally. Drive on, Captain.”

At Las Vinas they left Sally at the foot of the steps. It wasn’t necessary for her to use the back entrance, for the courtyard was empty, and when she paused in the hall there came no sound from the
sala.
If the guests had arrived they were upstairs in their rooms. She went up quietly and closed herself within her bedroom. She had a bath and put on a slim-fitting black lace frock. Black didn’t suit her so well as it suited some blondes, but when she had to meet elderly Spaniards it was safe. She brushed the blown sand from her hair, pressed the waves softly about her brow and temples, used lipstick and a touch of mascara. It was only six and golden sunlight still slanted across the trees, but perhaps she ought to go down.

Ought?
She felt cold as she stood still and contemplated the word. She seemed to have lost all inclination to assert herself. And she knew why. Whatever happened on San Palos, however she was bruised and beaten, she couldn’t give up yet, if ever. Life with Marcus promised to be arid and painful. Without him it would be plain hell.

There was a knock at the door. “
Senorita
!”

Sally turned the handle and smiled automatically at the bobbing maid. “Yes, Carmelita?”

“I am to ask you to go down to the
sala,
please.
Ahora, senorita
.”

Sally thanked her, came from the room and walked down the staircase. There were sounds now in the
sala
—several voices discreetly subdued. The door was ajar, and as she pushed it wide Marcus was there, slipping a hand under her arm and squeezing a warning. Sally saw two men bowing towards her, two seated women inclining their heads and smiling. Then, almost precipitately, she stopped.

There was another chair, tall-backed and with a matching stool close to it. And seated there, wrapped in regal black with a band of diamonds at her scrawny little neck and Carlos hovering close by, was Dona Inez!

CHAPTER SEVEN

MARCUS was saying, so that no one but Sally could hear it, “It surprised me too, but take it in your stride. She’s done this solely for us, so we must make it worth her while.”

The old
senora’s
small cackling laugh broke in. “Come and greet me, my child, before Marcus introduces you to my cousin. He is my young cousin, hardly more than seventy, and he has lived on Majorca since he married forty years ago.” She looked appraisingly at Sally. “Yes, you will suit this room. It badly needs the young face.”

“Do you feel quite well down here, Dona Inez?” asked Sally anxiously. “Not even a little bit dizzy?”

The
senora
made a feeble snapping noise with her fingers. “You and Carlos! If I knew so much about the human body I might scare myself into dizziness. I feel good!”

The introductions followed. Don Antonio ... Dona Esmeralda ... Dona Bianca ... Don Nicolas. All of them charming and old, wearing black clothes that looked new. Marcus, too, was wearing a black dinner jacket, and though he looked more hawk-nosed and arresting than ever, Sally couldn’t help feeling an hysterical desire to laugh. This was supposed to be a jolly occasion, and everyone had chosen black; the oddest angle of it was that no one but herself noticed it.

Marcus poured wine, very little for his grandmother but the usual generous amount for the guests. He put Sally’s glass into her hand, bent a most handsome smiling profile towards Dona Inez and said,

“We will drink to you,
madrecita.
There is nothing I have wanted more than to see you in your own chair, among us. To your health.”

Dona Inez accepted this with a smile on her little aged bird’s face. When everyone had echoed Marcus’s sentiment and sipped, she nodded with satisfaction. “And now we old ones will drink to the young,” she said. “To Marcus and his betrothed—their future.”

When the toast had been drunk she let Marcus take her glass and her little claws hooked themselves together as they always did when she had a pronouncement to make. “This Carlos has allowed me one hour in this room, and already half of that time has gone. So we must approach our happy business, and I will leave you to celebrate with other guests who will be arriving later.” She paused, took a breath and, looking at Marcus, added quietly, “I must thank you from the heart for your patience during the past weeks. For me, you have postponed the enjoyment of your fiancée. And you, my clear Sally, have been gentle and willing to wait till the old woman is well enough for the great occasion.”

“You’re talking a great deal too much,” Marcus said mildly. “Don Antonio will be here for three days. Why get everything said at once?”

“Because,” the dark eyes flashed their unquenchable fire, “I will have you miss nothing of the decorum that should attend your betrothal. Where is Mrs. Sheppard?”

“She’s out,” said Sally quickly. “If she’d known...”

“It does not matter. I suspect that your mother has small use for the customs of the del Moscados. However, to us they mean much, and in time they will mean a great deal to you also. Come and stand close to me. You too, Marcus.”

He took his time, asked carelessly, “Why the melodrama? You’ve done enough for one evening.”

“
Valgame Dios
!” she said fiercely, and glared round at her relatives. “You did well to have no Englishmen in your families. They have iron instead of marrow in their bones.”

Carlos bent and patted her shoulder. “Marcus is right,
tia mia.
You are talking too much on this first occasion downstairs. Tomorrow...”

‘Tomorrow I shall be too tired to come down. Very well, let us get to business.” Her hands were grasping a small black sequinned bag which had been indistinguishable on her lap. She opened it, spoke thinly but clearly to the people grouped round her. “Some days ago Marcus and I discussed the betrothal rings and I persuaded him to make his choice of the family jewels. He selected the square emerald which was my mother’s and a signet ring which belonged to his English grandfather.” The voice quavered. “This is my happiest moment. Take the rings, Marcus.”

He must have realized moments ago what was happening. Sally herself had half guessed it, but even so the shock was like a bludgeon. She felt numb and trapped. Her lips must have been parted, tensely, for a long minute; they now felt cold and dry and lifeless.

Then Dona Inez spoke again. “My dear, you will change the little ring I gave you to the other hand. Now, Marcus.” Afterwards Sally wondered if she could have acted in some way to prevent the scene going any further, and she decided that she had had no alternative but to accept the signet ring and give Marcus her left hand. She never remembered slipping the heavy gold ring on to Marcus’s finger, and even that second in which he had gently pushed the emerald down over her knuckle seemed to pass without her being aware of it. She heard him say something in Spanish to Dona Inez, felt his light salute on each cheek which the others no doubt expected, and automatically bent for the old
senora’s
kiss.

“So,” said Dona Inez shakily. “It is done, and I shall rest the better for knowing it.” She looked up at them both as they stood close to her, “You two must be happy—not worry over the old grandmother who has already lived too long. I am happier than I have been for very many years. Now, you will go outside, while I suffer the indignity of being carried to my bed.”

Marcus smiled at her with a tenderness that Sally found painful. “I don’t know how you got down here, but I’m going to take you up myself. Come,
madrecita
.”

The tiny figure was so light that he gathered her up easily. She was smiling tiredly but with infinite pride as she nodded goodnight and closed her eyes. Marcus bore her from the room, with Carlos close behind him.

In the
sala
there was an awkward spell of silence. Then, courteously, one of the women begged Sally to seat herself and tell them how she felt about living in San Palos. But before she had spoken more than a dozen words the first of the dinner guests arrived and she was in the unusual position of having to make the introductions. Nearly twenty minutes passed before she could slip outside into the cloistered terrace that edged the courtyard for a breathing space.

It was almost dark and a star or two already winked above the trees. Sally clasped her fingers and felt the two rings: the delicate sapphire and the heavy, diamond-circled emerald. Neither ring was hers by right; only the woman Marcus loved should wear them—with a brimming gladness and pride.

She moved along in the dimness, through an archway into the small
patio
below the
senora’s
bedroom. There she stopped and looked up. There was a small soft light in the room at the top of the steps and for some time she stared at that illumined french window without moving. Someone appeared on the balcony: Katarina.

The woman saw her and came down. The yellow face looked a little ghastly in the heavy dusk, but there was a smile on the brown lips and her tones sounded deliberate and sincere.

“I was in the
senora’s
confidence,
senorita,
and helped to take her down to the
sala.
May I offer my felicitations?”

“Thank you, Katarina. Is she all right—Dona Inez?”

“Tired, that is all. But she was determined, and Dr. Suarez felt it would do more harm to deny her what she wanted so much. I am sure you and Don Marcus are going to be most happy here. I hope it for you; believe that.”

Why did she harp on it? Sally wondered dispiritedly, but not for long. Perhaps she heard doubts in other people’s voices because stronger doubts were so deeply embedded within herself.

“You’re very kind, Katarina.”

“May I suggest something—that you take off the small ring given by the
senora
? For tonight, only the engagement ring, no?”

“I was going to do that. I’m going up to my room the back way.” And she nodded and left the
senora’s
companion.

In her room, Sally was tempted to change the black lace frock for something brighter, but she felt too peculiar inside herself to make the decision. She tidied her hair, used a compact, slipped the small ring into a drawer and switched off the light. But before going below she stepped out on to the balcony. It was quite dark now and a breeze was moving the tops of the palms and magnolias. Below the courtyard a garden light illumined the tops of the guests’ cars and down the drive another post shed light across the drive. Someone was walking quickly down the drive towards the gate. Josef? It looked like him, but she knew he hadn’t been invited this evening. Perhaps he had been up to beg something from Marcus.

Again the tips of her fingers sought the unfamiliar ring, and she became aware of a raw ache in her throat. She hadn’t had to decide after all; it had been decided for her. She was engaged to Marcus, might even marry him. Not because of Dona Inez but because all this anguish, and all the pain of the future, would be easier to endure than cutting adrift and dying, emotionally.

She crossed the bedroom and went out into the ample light of the corridor. Viola was emerging from her own room, lovely in pastel pink brocade with a broad black collar, and carrying a slinky fur stole over her arm. She stopped as Sally reached her, looked at her unsmilingly and said,

“I’ve heard all about it. I’m glad for you, darling, but I do think it was rather dictatorial of the old woman. After all, it’s the girl’s parents who do the honors, not the man’s grandmother. Show me the ring.” She examined it and looked rather startled. “It must be worth thousands! Does it feel strange—wearing something so valuable?” She didn’t wait for a reply. “Dona Inez might have made sure that I’d be in.”

“I think it depended on Carlos’s being here. It was a complete surprise to me.”

“And to Marcus?”

“Yes. Please don’t make any remarks about it.”

“I shan’t. But how do you think I feel—going out to someone else’s anniversary party when I ought to be here at your celebration?”

“You and the Captain could dine here—send an apology.”

“We’ll do nothing of the sort. I’ll give my own party for you and Marcus later on—and if I can avoid it, it won’t be here at Las Vinas!”

“There’s really nothing to be upset about. The
Senora
did what she felt she had to do because she felt capable of it this evening.”

“She’s an autocratic old eagle,” said Viola crossly. “She knows I can’t afford to give you the sort of wedding these del Moscados will expect, and she’s decided that if they’re footing the bill they’ll also do things according to their own traditions. I’m sure Marcus will see that it’s most unfair.” It was only then that she bothered to take a good look at Sally’s face. “You look dreadful—-wearing black, too! If you’d only waited a day or two those outfits would have arrived from Barcelona. She’s a selfish old tyrant, and
if
...
”

“She’s old and worn out,” said Sally unsteadily, “and there’s nothing you can do now it’s over.”

“No, I suppose not.” Viola shrugged and the light habitual smile came back to her lips. “If you’re satisfied, darling, why should I be distressed? I’m sure you’d much rather have had Marcus to yourself while you were exchanging rings—what a barbarous custom, by the way!—but perhaps you were fortunate in having so few to witness the event. Nothing’s altered, really, is it? It’s just that you have a much more expensive ring and Marcus is wearing something to show he’s hooked.” She looked at her diamond-framed watch. “I must go. Coming down?” Together they descended the staircase, and in the hall they were met by Captain Northwick, who looked most distinguished in a light dinner jacket. He bowed, and then Marcus was there.

“Hallo,” he said. “Can’t we persuade yon to stay in for dinner and go along to your party afterwards?”

Decisively, Viola shook her head. The pale lavender rinse had given way to pastel blue, and in the pink frock she looked pretty and doll-like, not a day over thirty-five. She raised a small white finger at Marcus.

“I’m a wee bit vexed over what’s happening this evening. Personally, I’ve taken it that you two were officially engaged all the time—otherwise I couldn’t have accepted your hospitality for so long, could I? But I do feel that when you were ready to call it official in your family you should have consulted me, so that I could have arranged a celebration elsewhere this evening. Your grandmother didn’t consider me at all.”

Marcus said easily, “It crept up on us, I’m afraid. Dona Inez suddenly felt up to tackling the thing, and she took Katarina and Carlos into her confidence—but no one else. She’s too old to be judged, Viola.”

“She did ask for you,” said Sally in low tones to her mother. “You were out.”

Slightly mollified, Viola patted her arm. Then she looked up at Marcus. “I’d better give you a motherly kiss, hadn’t I? You know, I’ve just discovered that I couldn’t possibly live here after your marriage. A huge son-in-law and grandchildren would wither me up in no time!”

She planted her small kiss and as an afterthought kissed Sally also. Then, with the Captain, she made her exit Marcus said quietly, “Feel all right?”

“Perfectly,” answered Sally evenly.

“You looked terribly frightened in there, earlier. You mustn’t be frightened.”

“It was the shock.”

“I didn’t want anything like that to happen. I wanted you to tell me yourself—not to be forced into it.”