Lord Of Zaracus. Anne Mather
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She straightened and emerged from the hut, passing the small group of men without a word, although she allowed herself one glance at Don Carlos. Her eyes met his dark enigmatic ones for one moment, and she felt a surge of fury. She was sure she could see a faint glimmer of sardonic amusement in their depths, and gathering up the ends of the orange towel she made as distinguished an exit as she could.
CAROLYN was dressed in a slim-fitting pale blue shift of tricel velvet, her hair combed smooth and caught up in a knot on top of her head when her father finally came to find her. He entered her tent looking dark-browed and angry, and Carolyn felt all her earlier trepidation materialise again.
‘All right, all right,’ she said, lighting a cigarette before he could say anything. ‘I’m sorry if I upset your Señ d’Alvarez, or whatever his name is!’
Professor Madison’s mouth was hard. ‘And I suppose you think that is all that is necessary,’ he said, with contempt. ‘My dear Carolyn, you simply can’t go around in this country acting so carelessly! I heard what you said—that the Mexicans lived like savages—and quite frankly it appalled me. If you felt like this, why on earth did you come?’
Carolyn lifted her slim shoulders helplessly. ‘Oh, honestly, Dad, it wasn’t like that at all. Surely, you don’t imagine I walked out of the shower and attacked the man!’
‘Well, what did happen?’
‘Didn’t Don Carlos enlighten you?’ Her tone was sarcastic.
‘Some. Obviously, as a gentleman he forbore to quote me all the distasteful details.’
‘Obviously.’
‘So go on. What did happen?’
Carolyn sighed, and drew on her cigarette deeply. ‘Well, I was having a shower, as you know, when this enormous—beetle, I suppose you would call it, came crawling across the floor like some monstrous reincarnation of a cockroach. Naturally, I was startled, to put it mildly. I think I just grabbed the towel, and dashed out, and of course, this man—Don Carlos—was outside. Well, I practically fell into his arms, and I guess I just vent my fear and anger on him.’ She flushed. ‘I didn’t even mean what I said. I just wanted to lash out at somebody, and he—was there,’ she finished lamely.
‘I see.’ Her father drew out his pipe. ‘And I suppose you realise that by—lashing out, as you put it, you jeopardised the security of all of us here!’
‘I wasn’t to know he was who he turned out to be,’ protested Carolyn. ‘Good lord, you had told me he was away. Besides, he doesn’t dress like a—like an overlord, or anything. He—he looked like one of the Mexicans I’ve seen helping around the camp.’
‘Don Carlos Fernandez Monterra d’Alvarez doesn’t have to look like anything; he just is! As you get to know him better—or perhaps I should say, if you get to know him better, you will realise that he emanates authority, with every gesture, every movement he makes. Besides, he is well liked by everyone, and in short, treats his workers with real consideration. That is why it is insufferable that you should treat him so abominably. Can’t you see that by treating him like that, no matter who you thought he was, you have insulted him, his authority, if you like. He would not care for you to speak to his lowliest peasant as you spoke to him!’
‘Oh, Dad!’ Carolyn studied the glowing tip of her cigarette. It was getting dark in the tent, and the professor leaned across to switch on the table lamp by the bed.
Her father chewed his pipe reflectively, and looked at Carolyn intently. ‘I—I may have to ask you to return to England,’ he began.
She swung round. ‘You may what!’
‘I’m sure you heard every word I said, Carolyn.’
‘But why? Dad, honestly, isn’t this getting a bit ridiculous? I mean, all right, I was rude, but heavens, the conditions are primitive. All right, I shouldn’t have said what I did, and if it makes you any happier, I’ll apologise to your Don Carlos—–’
‘That you most certainly will do, whatever happens,’ ground out her father. ‘It appears to me, Carolyn, that the freedom and lack of authority you have experienced in London have changed you from a decent, thoughtful child, into a sharp-tongued young woman, without much thought for anyone but herself.’
‘Dad!’ Carolyn sounded hurt.
‘Well, it’s true, Carolyn. I suppose I have been rather careless in my duties as your father, but I always thought you were well-cared for. I do not care for too much of this modern idea of plain speaking.’
Carolyn stubbed out her cigarette. ‘I think it’s all been taken far too seriously. I was tired and frightened. I should think anyone in my position, any woman that is, would have done the same.’
‘That is a matter of opinion. Certainly, no one in Don Carlos’s sphere would have accused him of being an animal!’
‘Oh, for goodness sake! What do you want me to say? Where is the man, and I’ll apologise?’
‘He’s gone back to his home.’
‘Why did he come, anyway?’
‘To let me know he had returned. He has been in Acapulco for the last three weeks, and only returned this morning. It is unfortunate he had to be apprised of your arrival in such a manner. As it is, I have yet to explain that I agreed for you to come. I knew your presence here would not please him. After all, it is true, digs of this kind are not suitable places for young women alone. Usually, if any women are taken along, there are at least two or three of them in the party. I really feel I have made a mistake, Carolyn.’
Carolyn’s eyes widened. ‘You’re not going to make me go back?’ She clasped her hands. ‘Oh, please, don’t do that! At least, give me a chance to show that I am as capable as anyone else of adapting myself to my surroundings. It’s all been a storm in a tea-cup, so couldn’t we forget it?’ Her eyes were appealing.
Professor Madison shrugged his heavy shoulders, and studied his pipe thoughtfully. ‘I don’t know, Carolyn,’ he began, slowly. ‘If Don Carlos comes tomorrow and I have to tell him that you’re staying for an indefinite period, I feel I may find myself on rather uncertain ground.’
‘Don’t tell him how long I am staying. Say I was in Mexico on holiday, and decided to look you up.’
‘And you think he would believe that?’
Carolyn shrugged, but remembering Don Carlos’s dark, enigmatic eyes, she doubted it. She had the uncomfortable feeling that he would be perfectly capable of seeing through any artifice she might adopt.
‘Well, what are you going to tell him then? Am I staying? Or are you going to make me go back to that terrible modern life in London?’ She used the word deliberately, and