the advertisement had been placed without the Duque’s knowledge or condolence? She felt almost numb with incredulity.
Now the Duque turned his dark eyes on her again. He studied her for a moment longer, and then without a word turned and strode across the hall and entered a room at the far side, slamming the door after him.
The woman he had called Estelle continued to look unperturbed. ‘Go with Consuelo, senhorita. Do not concern yourself with these matters. I can assure you, your job is not in jeopardy.’
Juliet moved at last, and followed Consuelo stiffly up the staircase. She wished she felt as certain. All she could remember was the blatant fury in the man’s grey eyes, and the force of his attraction which had hit her like magnetism.
HER room overlooked the sea, with a balcony on which was a long, low lounger where it would be heaven to sit on hot days. The room, decorated in shades of blue and green and grey, with a bathroom to match, was luxurious and comfortable.
Consuelo stood down her cases, and looked at her with her smiling eyes. ‘This is all right, senhorita?’
‘Oh, yes, thank you, Consuelo. It’s wonderful. But–’ She halted, and Consuelo looked at her sympathetically.
‘The senhora means what she says,’ she said understandingly. ‘The Duque will not dismiss you without reason.’
Juliet sighed and sank down on to the bed. ‘But – well, the Duque apparently didn’t even know I was coming!’
‘No, senhorita.’
Juliet frowned. ‘That woman – who is she? Is that his wife?’
Consuelo laughed, folding her arms across her heavy breasts. ‘No, senhorita. The Duque is not married. The Senhora Vinceiro is the widow of his cousin, Pépé. She lives here on Venterra, not far from the quinta.’
‘I see.’ Juliet shook her head, still feeling rather bewildered. ‘When – when will I see the Senhorita Teresa?’
‘Whenever you are ready, senhorita. Senhorita Teresa is with Senhorita Madison at the moment. She has been acting as both nurse and companion since Senhorita Weston was dismissed.’
Juliet had so many questions she wanted to ask. She wanted to know about this fiasco the Duque had spoken about, she wanted to know why Laura Weston had been dismissed, she wanted to know exactly what influence this Estelle Vinceiro had in the quinta. She felt almost amused as she recalled her thoughts on the journey here. They had been wholly to do with the problems she had left behind. She had not known she was coming to face far more.
Consuelo moved to the door. ‘It is now a little after twelve, senhorita. I suggest I bring your lunch to your room, to enable you to unpack and relax for a while. After siesta, which the Senhorita Teresa always takes in her room, I will come and take you to have afternoon tea with her, sim?’
Juliet rose to her feet again. ‘That sounds delightful, Consuelo, thank you.’ She twisted her fingers nervously. ‘Do you – do you think the Duque will want to see me again?’
Consuelo spread wide her hands in a typical continental gesture. ‘Who can say, senhorita? But if you are resting he will not ask me to disturb you. So – I go. If you need anything, ring the bell.’
After Consuelo had gone, Juliet lifted her cases and threw them on the bed. Then she removed the jacket of her suit, and walked lazily on to the balcony. Although she had not been travelling very long this morning, she suddenly felt drained of energy, and she sat down on the lounger and lit a cigarette before attempting to do anything.
In a while, the events of the last few minutes assumed rather less serious proportions, as she saw the amusing side of it all. What a situation! She wished Rosemary were here to share it with her.
A tap at the door heralded the arrival of a young maidservant with a tray containing her lunch. There was a fresh fruit cocktail, pork fried with rice, and a kind of ice cream gateau, followed by coffee and more fruit. It was a very delicious meal, and after she had finished, Juliet felt a little more like work. She opened her cases, hung away her clothes in a capacious fitted wardrobe, and then went into the bathroom to shower before resting on her bed for a while. She had closed her window shutters, and the light slatted through the blinds cast dancing shadows on the ceiling. She watched them for a while, and then her eyelids drooped and she slept.
She awoke refreshed, but startled, with a firm tapping going on at her door. Sliding off the bed, she wrapped herself in a nylon wrapper and opened the door about six inches. Consuelo was outside.
‘It is after four, senhorita. I have told the Senhorita Teresa you are to have tea with her.’
‘Lord!’ Juliet gasped. ‘I’m sorry, Consuelo, I’m not ready. Will you wait five minutes?’
‘Very well, senhorita,’ Consuelo agreed, but she sounded less than pleased.
Juliet fumbled her way into a white crimplene dress, sleeveless, with a high cuffed neckline, and not too short a skirt. Her hair, immaculately pleated earlier, now hung in wisps and with careless fingers she wrenched out the hairgrips and brushed it savagely. It fell, thick and straight to her shoulders, sherry-coloured and very attractive. Cursing to herself for sleeping so long, she began to wind it back into its pleat, when Consuelo tapped again.
‘Senhorita,’ she said persistently, ‘please hurry.’
Juliet lost control of the hair, and it fell loose again. ‘Oh, blast, blast, blast!’ she exclaimed angrily, and then with decision, she combed it smooth and looked at her reflection disconsolately. It was no good. She needed plenty of time and patience to dress it in the pleat, and anyway, she might be going to get the sack, so what did it matter?
She emerged from the bedroom and Consuelo looked at her in surprise. ‘Such pretty hair, senhorita,’ she exclaimed delightedly.
Juliet looked rueful. ‘But rather impractical,’ she said, smiling. ‘I’m sorry I kept you waiting, Consuelo. I fell asleep, I’m afraid.’
Consuelo seemed unperturbed now. ‘It is the climate,’ she said, firmly. ‘Most have the siesta! It is a good idea, sim?’
‘Hmm,’ agreed Juliet enthusiastically, feeling more ready to face any challenge which might come her way.
They descended the main staircase to the wide hall, and then out on to the patio that surrounded the central courtyard. The patio was tiled with mosaic in a variety of colours, while tubs of flamboyants and the ever-present climbing bougainvillea added their own tropical beauty to the scene. A glass-topped table supported a jug, some ice cubes and several glasses, and beside this table a girl was sitting in a wheelchair, glancing carelessly through a magazine. As though aware of another presence, she turned and looked at Juliet, and Consuelo murmured something about getting the tea and left them.
The girl was dark, like her uncle, with long hair worn in a single braid over one shoulder. But her expression was remote and perhaps a little sulky, and Juliet advanced towards her with sòme trepidation.
‘Hello,’ she said, in a friendly
