The Spanish Connection. Kay Thorpe

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СКАЧАТЬ ‘You might have noticed that they’re dressed differently.’

      ‘More for easy recognition, I think,’ he said, unmoved by her anger. ‘They’re identical in looks.’

      Lauren caught herself up before she could say the words trembling on her lips. ‘Twins usually are,’ she got out instead.

      ‘Only where formed from the same cell. It’s quite possible to have two children born at the same time who are quite different in appearance.’

      ‘I don’t need any lessons in genetics, thanks,’ she shot back at him. ‘And I’ll refer to my children the way I want!’

      ‘Even though you know I’m right?’ The query was deceptively mild, the dark eyes revealing a glitter to match her own. ‘I thought you capable of more mature behaviour.’

      ‘Which just goes to show how wrong first impressions can be.’ The gloom and depressing atmosphere of her surroundings were doing nothing to help Lauren regain her equilibrium. ‘I don’t think this visit is turning out to have been such a good idea. The Spanish and English obviously hold very different views.’

      ‘In this instance,’ he said, ‘more by reason of gender than of nationality, I believe. You resent what you regard as my interference simply because I’m a man, yes?’

      ‘I resent your assumption that you have the right to interfere at all.’ She said it between her teeth. ‘If that’s going to be the price of accepting help with education et cetera, then I don’t think I’ll bother. They’re my sons, not yours!’

      ‘If they were my sons, you would be my wife,’ came the taut response. ‘In which case you would have learned respect. Francisco obviously neglected his duty in more than the one aspect.’ He gave her no time to form a reply. ‘They’re a part of him too, and in his absence are my responsibility by proxy. I have no intention of relinquishing that responsibility.’

      The gloom of the chamber seemed to Lauren to have increased. Standing there, tall and dark and unsmiling, Rafael seemed as threatening as any past inquisitor. She wanted suddenly to run from him, to snatch up her sons and escape from this man, this place, this country, while she still could. It had been a mistake to come here at all; she knew that now.

      ‘I think we’ll have to agree to differ,’ she said thickly. ‘I can’t be like your women.’

      ‘You have no concept of the ways of our womenfolk,’ he responded. ‘Nor understanding of the male in any sphere, I think.’ His tone was different, not exactly warm, but lacking the biting edge of a moment ago. ‘We’ll begin again. This time with a little more tolerance on both sides.’ He paused, gaze narrowed to her face. ‘Agreed?’

      The reply was dragged from her. ‘Agreed.’

      ‘Good.’ He made an abrupt movement. ‘Then we’ll go and drink coffee and discuss matters in surroundings more conducive than these.’

      Which wouldn’t be difficult to find, Lauren reflected wryly. This would be the very last time she ventured down here for certain. The whole place gave her the shivers.

      There were a couple of guests looking round the little chapel when they emerged from the dungeon stairs. Judging from those already seen during the tour of the castle, Americans seemed to be in the majority among the present contingent.

      ‘We don’t have anything like this back home,’ declared the beautifully dressed and coiffured woman. ‘The whole place is unreal!’

      ‘My ancestors lived very real lives,’ Rafael assured her drily. ‘We do, however, have a family ghost.’

      ‘You do?’ Her eyes lit up. ‘Are we likely to see it?’

      ‘Perhaps. He walks the battlements at night when the moon is full.’

      ‘We missed it by a couple of weeks, then,’ said the woman’s husband, obviously not taking the story too seriously. ‘A real shame. Are those the dungeons down there? Those folks we know who stayed here last year said to be sure to see them.’

      ‘Then you must certainly do so,’ Rafael answered. ‘The lighting is poor, so you must watch your step.’

      Lauren waited until the pair had disappeared down the winding staircase before voicing an opinion. ‘Aren’t you afraid of facing a massive lawsuit if they fall and injure themselves?’

      The shrug was brief and dismissive. ‘We’re not in America. Would you prefer to take coffee outdoors or indoors?’

      ‘Out, please,’ she said, suddenly longing for the warmth of the sun. ‘I should go and check on the boys first, though.’

      ‘They’re in good hands,’ he stated flatly. ‘How can they be expected to achieve the independence necessary to their future welfare if you’re constantly with them?’

      ‘They’re four years old,’ she returned, ‘not fourteen!’

      ‘But no longer infants at the breast.’ He watched the colour come up in her cheeks with derision in the line of his mouth. ‘You find the allusion distasteful?’

      ‘I find your whole attitude degrading,’ she parried with an effort.

      ‘That was not the intention. I have your welfare at heart too. You have a life of your own to live, Lauren. Not just as a mother but as a woman, with a woman’s needs.’

      His voice had softened again in that disconcerting, heart-vibrating manner of his. She found herself transfixed by the dark eyes, stomach muscles contracting.

      ‘I don’t need you to tell me how I should live my life,’ she said huskily. ‘I’ll do as I think fit. Right now, I’d like to see how my sons are getting on.’

      Rafael made no immediate answer, just continued to study her with that same narrowed intensity. When he did speak his tone was unexpectedly mild. ‘As you prefer.’

      They found boys and nurse playing a form of quoits in a small grassed courtyard. Neither César nor Nicolás appeared to have missed her at all, Lauren was bound to acknowledge, and she tried without success to stifle the pang. Rafael was probably right in that too much of her life revolved around the twins. She had to learn to loosen up.

      ‘I think I’d like that coffee now,’ she said on a subdued note after watching the game for a few minutes. ‘They’re obviously doing fine.’

      There was no element of ‘I told you so’ in the glance Rafael gave her. He wouldn’t, she thought, waste his time on such petty emotions. A man of strong opinions and even stronger will, but one whose basic integrity was in no doubt.

      ‘We’ll have it served here,’ he said, indicating a cast-iron bench seat set against the near wall. ‘Sit there in the sun while I go and arrange it.’

      Lauren did so, watching him go back indoors again with a dawning suspicion that this was where he had intended bringing her in the first place. Nicolás broke away from his game to come over to where she sat, his eyes shining with health and high spirits.

      ‘We like it here, Mummy,’ he announced, speaking collectively as always. ‘Are you having a good time too?’

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