going to meet; resentment or curiosity, or both. But being absolutely honest with herself, she had to admit that without Luis Delgado Aguilar’s intervention, she would never have agreed to such a request.
Her choice of gown that evening mirrored her intention to show him that she was not the tiresome child he so obviously thought her. Like the cat-suit, it was black, but its draped chiffon bodice and flowing skirts were unmistakably feminine. It left most of her slender arms bare, and she wore a broad slave bracelet on her forearm, to complement the slim gold chain about her neck. Her hair was coiled into a swathed knot on top of her head, and even Mark had commented on the elegance of her appearance.
Luis Aguilar was waiting for them in the foyer this evening, suave and immaculate in his dinner jacket, the long powerful legs carrying him swiftly to greet them. If he found Domine’s appearance appealing, he made no show of it, summoning an attendant to take her velvet cape, before leading the way into the dining room.
‘You will forgive me if I do not offer you a drink first, Temple,’ he said, as they approached a table set for four. ‘But my other guest does not drink alcohol, and I do not care to keep her waiting.’
It was then that Domine saw the other woman already seated at the table. She was also dark, like their host, with the same kind of sheen to her cap of dark hair. Domine estimated her age to be around thirty, but she had one of those ageless Spanish faces that could have been any age from thirty to forty. High cheekbones, and a finely-sculpted mouth, a black gown, like Domine’s, only different in the respect that she showed very little of her magnolia pale skin, and a tall slender body as she rose, that dwarfed Domine’s five feet and four inches. Whoever she was, she would curtail Mark’s plans to spend the evening ingratiating himself with Luis Aguilar, Domine thought rather spitefully, angry herself that he should show so much respect to this woman, and so little to her.
‘Allow me to present Lisel’s cousins, Inez,’ he was saying now, as the woman’s lips parted in a polite smile. ‘This is my sister, Miss Temple,’ he explained, meeting Domine’s incredulity with sardonic eyes. ‘She is staying in London at the moment, and I invited her to join us this evening.’
Inez Aguilar—Domine could only think of her as unmarried, as she did not mention a husband—had little to say for herself. When she did speak, she addressed herself to Mark, asking him about his likes and dislikes in the way of food and entertainment, emitting little about her own activities. She seemed quite content to sit back and allow her brother to dominate the conversation, and he did so, talking about general things mostly, giving Mark little opportunity to introduce a more personal note.
The meal was excellent. Domine had seafood, and steak, and finished with puree of strawberries, served with ice-cream. She had a good appetite, and seldom had to worry about her figure. Occasionally, if she thought she was gaining an extra inch, she went on a diet of crackers and lemon juice for a couple of days, but she was always glad when she could revert to her normal eating habits.
She was aware of Inez Aguilar watching her from time to time throughout the meal, but it was not until the coffee was served that she addressed herself to her.
Then she said: ‘My brother tells me you are to visit Peru, Miss Temple. To meet with your cousin, no? I am sure Lisel will be delighted to meet one of her own countrywomen.’
Domine felt this was open to discussion, but she nodded, and answered: ‘That’s right. I’m—er—I’m looking forward to it. I’ve never visited South America before.’
Inez wiped her lips with her napkin and then dropped it on the table. ‘You—you will probably find it much different from your expectations,’ she said at last. ‘Not only are we in another hemisphere, we seem also to be in another century.’
‘I think Miss Temple is aware of that, Inez,’ remarked her brother drily. ‘Will you have some cognac, Temple? I can recommend the St Helena. Napoleon’s best, I believe.’
Domine cast a resentful look in his direction, but he was summoning the waiter, and taking the opportunity, she asked: ‘Do you and your brother live in Puerto Limas, señora?’
If he had heard her question there was nothing he could do about it, for the waiter had taken his full attention, and Inez answered without hesitation.
‘My brother’s house is just outside Aguilas, which is some three miles from Puerto Limas, Miss Temple,’ she said. ‘I, of course, live at Puerto Limas.’
Of course? Domine shrugged to herself, and as she did so she saw she now had their host’s undivided attention. However, she pretended not to notice this silent intimidation as she went on: ‘Aguilas? Oh, yes. Er—Luis told me. That’s the nearest town to Puerto Limas, isn’t it?’
It was difficult to decide who was the most annoyed by her deliberately casual reference. Inez was obviously taken aback, and even Mark was regarding her with a mixture of amusement and irritation. The silence around the table was itself intimidating, but above the murmur of conversation around them, Domine could hear the distinct sound of music. It was a lifeline, she thought, looking appealingly to Mark for deliverance, and holding his indifferent gaze she said:
‘There must be a dance going on next door. Shall we have our coffee in there?’
Before Mark could answer however, Luis interposed. ‘Regretfully, my sister does not dance,’ he said, pushing back his chair. ‘But if your brother will be so kind as to keep Inez company, I will show you the ballroom.’
It was the last thing Domine wanted, but her silent signals to Mark produced only the most resigned of apologies. No doubt he was not too overjoyed at the prospect of keeping Inez company, and he probably thought she deserved all she got.
Luis was standing now, waiting for her to get to her feet, and with a determined stiffening of her shoulders she did so. Mark made a perfunctory gesture of rising, and then she was walking swiftly across the floor, trying to keep pace with Luis’s longer strides.
Outside the restaurant he turned sharp right, and now she could see the small ballroom that opened at the end of the corridor. The sound of music was louder now, predominantly violins, with none of the throbbing rhythm of guitars that Domine was used to dancing to.
‘So,’ he said, as they halted in the open doorway to the ballroom, ‘you seek to inquisition my sister with your questions.’
His voice was low and angry, and Domine felt the increasingly familiar feeling of frustration where he was concerned. ‘There’s no such verb as inquisition,’ she declared crossly, glancing up at his taut profile. ‘Inquisition is a noun. One can conduct an inquisition, but one doesn’t inquisition anyone.’ She pursed her lips. ‘You should know that, coming from the race of people who introduced the word.’
His antagonism was palpable, but she knew there was no point in trying to reason with him. Someone, perhaps this sister of his, had given him this inflated opinion he had of himself, and it was time he realised that not all females bowed before his rampant superiority.
‘Thank you for that lesson in English, Miss Temple,’ he said now, his eyes narrowed and hostile. ‘But I beg to correct you, on one point at least. The Spaniards introduced the inquisition, and I consider myself Peruvian, not European!’
Domine shrugged. ‘You speak Spanish in Peru, don’t you?’
‘They speak English in the United States, but I doubt if they consider themselves British,’ he retorted brusquely, and then made a sound of impatience. ‘But this is ridiculous.
