Anne Mather - The Spaniard's Seduction

‘A nest of vipers,’ scoffed her son, around another mouthful of egg. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about. If you ask me, you’re just jealous because Uncle Enrique liked me.’

Jealous!

Cassandra’s nails dug into her palms. ‘You think so?’ she said, the urge to wipe the smug look off his face becoming almost overwhelming. ‘And what would you know about it?’

‘I know Uncle Enrique is nice, really nice,’ declared her son staunchly. ‘Gosh, you were so rude to him, Mum! It’s a wonder he even wants to see me again.’

Cassandra pressed her lips together, feeling the unwelcome prick of tears behind her eyes. Oh, yes, she wanted to say, Enrique de Montoya wants to see you again. Now that he knows I have a son, he’ll do everything he can to take you away from me.

But, of course, she couldn’t tell her son that. She couldn’t be so cruel. Apart from anything else, it was unlikely he would believe her. In David’s world, people were exactly what they appeared to be; they said what they thought. They didn’t lie or cheat, or use any means in their power to destroy someone else. Why frighten him unnecessarily? He would learn soon enough that the de Montoyas would do anything to gain their own ends.

‘Anyway, I think you should tell him you’re sorry when you see him again,’ went on David, scraping up the last of his eggs with his fork. He looked up, his dark eyes a haunting reminder of the past. ‘We are going to see him again, aren’t we, Mum?’

Cassandra hesitated. ‘I don’t think so. I’ve decided to cut the holiday short,’ she said, even though she hadn’t decided any such thing until that moment. ‘I’m going to find out whether we can get a flight home later today—’

‘No!’ David sprang up from his seat in dismay, and the family of holidaymakers at the nearby table turned curious eyes to see what was going on. ‘I won’t go,’ he said, not caring what anyone else thought of his behaviour. ‘You can’t make me.’

‘Sit down, David.’

Cassandra was embarrassed, but her son was beyond being reasoned with. ‘I won’t sit down,’ he declared. ‘I want to see Uncle Enrique again. I want to see my grandfather. Why shouldn’t I?’

‘Sit down!’

This time Cassandra got half out of her seat and, as if realising he wasn’t doing himself any favours by making it impossible for his mother to face her fellow guests, he subsided unwillingly into his seat.

‘Now, listen to me,’ said Cassandra, her voice thick with emotion, ‘you’ll do exactly as I tell you. You’re nine years old, David. I have every right to demand that you do as I say.’

David’s expression was sulky, but Cassandra was relieved to see that there were tears in his eyes now. ‘But why are you being so awful?’ he exclaimed huskily. ‘You always said you loved my father. Was that just a lie?’

‘No!’ Cassandra gave an inward groan. ‘I did love him. More than you can ever know.’

‘Then—’

‘But your father wasn’t like the rest of his family,’ she continued urgently. ‘He was—sweet; gentle. He—he was prepared to risk the wrath of his own family just so we could be together.’

David frowned. ‘Are you saying they tried to stop you getting married?’

Cassandra’s stomach lurched. ‘Something like that.’

‘So when you said you didn’t get on with Dad’s family, what you really meant was that they didn’t get on with you?’

God, Cassandra really didn’t want to talk about this.

‘I—suppose so,’ she agreed tensely.

‘But that doesn’t mean they don’t want to know you now,’ protested David, his eagerness showing in his face. ‘Dad died, what? Ten years ago?’

‘Nearly.’

‘So…’ He shrugged. ‘They’ve obviously changed their minds. Why else would Uncle Enrique come here to meet us?’

‘Because of you,’ cried his mother fiercely, realising too late that she had spoken a little too vehemently. ‘I mean,’ she said, modifying her tone, ‘naturally they want to meet you. You’re your father’s son.’

‘And yours,’ put in David at once. ‘And once they get to know you—’

‘They’re not going to get to know me,’ said Cassandra desperately. ‘Haven’t you been listening to a word I’ve said? I never want to see any of the de Montoyas again.’

David’s face crumpled. ‘You don’t mean that.’

‘I do mean it.’ Cassandra felt dreadful but she had to go on. ‘I know you’re disappointed, but if we can’t get a flight home, I’m going to see if it’s possible for us to move to another pensión along the coast—’

‘No!’

‘Yes.’ Cassandra was determined. ‘I’m prepared to compromise. I know you’ve been looking forward to this holiday, and I don’t want to deprive you of it, so perhaps we can move to another resort.’

‘I don’t want to move to another resort,’ protested David unhappily. ‘I like it here. I’ve made friends here.’

‘You’ll make friends wherever we go.’

‘No, I won’t.’

‘Of course you will.’

‘But—’

‘But what?’

David shook his head, apparently deciding he’d argued long enough. ‘Nothing,’ he muttered, and then looked considerably relieved when Horst Kaufman and his parents stopped at their table.

The German family had been having breakfast on the terrace and now they all smiled down at David and his mother.

‘Good morning, Mrs de Montoya,’ said Franz Kaufman cheerfully. ‘It is another lovely day, yes?’

‘Oh—yes.’ Cassandra managed a polite smile in return. Then, noticing their more formal clothes, ‘Are you going off for the day?’

‘Yes. We are going to Ortegar, where we believe there is a leisure facility for the children.’ It was Frau Kaufman who answered, and Cassandra couldn’t help but admire their grasp of her language. ‘A water park and such. We wondered if you would permit David to come with us?’

‘Oh.’

Cassandra was nonplussed. She hardly knew the Kaufmans and the idea of allowing David to go off with them for the day was not something she would normally countenance. But, she reminded herself, she was going to spend the day trying to change their hotel arrangements, and going off with Horst and his family might be just what her son needed to put all thoughts of the de Montoyas out of his head.

‘Can I, Mum? Can I?’

David was clearly enthusiastic, and, putting her own doubts aside, Cassandra lifted her shoulders in a helpless gesture. ‘I— I don’t know what to say.’

‘We would take great care of him, of course,’ put in Franz Kaufman heartily, patting David on the shoulder. ‘And as he and Horst get along together so well…’

‘We do. We do.’

David gazed at her with wide appealing eyes, and deciding that anything was better than having him dragging after her all day, making his feelings felt, Cassandra sighed.

‘Well, all right,’ she agreed, earning a whoop from both children. ‘Um—where did you say you were going?’

‘Ortegar,’ said Frau Kaufman at once, and Cassandra frowned.

‘Ortegar?’ she said. ‘Where is that exactly?’

‘It is along the coast. Near Cadiz,’ answered Franz a little impatiently. ‘Maybe twenty miles from here, that is all.’

And probably twenty miles nearer Tuarega, thought Cassandra, moistening her lips. She knew that because she had scanned the map very thoroughly before agreeing to David’s choice of destination.

Her heartbeat quickened. David’s choice of destination, she realised unsteadily. Goodness, how long had her son been planning to write to his grandfather?

‘I’ll go and get ready,’ said David eagerly, and she wondered if he suspected what she was thinking. ‘I won’t be long.’