The Horseman. Margaret Way

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      He didn’t appear to notice.

      “But you’ll have some time on your hands, Cecile. I could at least be some company, as your fiancé has to return to Melbourne.”

      She stopped dancing, aware of her burning cheeks. “My grandfather told you that?”

      “He did when he issued his invitation.”

      A curious thing—he kept hold of her hand. “He also told me your fiancé is a lawyer with a prestigious Melbourne firm.”

      “He is,” she said, defeated and unnerved by the thought that Stuart didn’t mean as much to her as he should. How, if she loved Stuart, could she put herself into Raul Montalvan’s hands? “He should make full partner in a year or so.”

      “You see yourself as the perfect wife to a man of law?”

      “What’s behind that question, Raul?” She withdrew her trembling hand and walked on.

      “Ah. So I’ve made you a little angry.” He caught her up easily, bending his head as if to search her expression.

      “You would know if I were angry.”

      He only smiled. “Fire and ice. However, I don’t think your eyes could sparkle any more dangerously than they do now. I apologize if I’ve somehow given offense. I never meant to. You asked if I had siblings. I have. A younger brother, Francisco, and a sister, Ramona, who is so beautiful she turns heads. But then you would know all about that.” The resonance of his voice deepened. “So tell me, do you feel rewarded working with children who are in much mental pain? Your grandfather told me you were a child psychologist. I’d very much like to hear why you chose such a profession. It seems to me to reveal a deeply maternal streak, does it not?”

      In her high heels she stumbled slightly over an exposed tree root and he swiftly steadied her. “Thank you,” she murmured, fathoms deep in awareness.

      “So?” he prompted with what sounded like real interest.

      She made an effort. “I do love children. I want children of my own. My guiding star is to help ease the pain. It’s greatly rewarding to be able to steer badly hurting young people through very real and sometimes just perceived crises in their lives.”

      He nodded agreement. “There are so many areas of conflict to contend with, especially during adolescence.”

      “Children are far less secure these days than ever before. Marriages break up, and the fallout can be very damaging. Some children tend to blame a particular parent for the breakup of the marriage. Usually the mothers. Daddy’s gone and Mummy drove him away. This can lead to profound upset for the parent who has to bear the blame. Then again, I find a lot of the time that problems originate with the parents’ behavior. They have one another and kept the children at arm’s length. That can make change very difficult. Other parents persist in keeping up a front. They disguise, disown or actively lie about the part they play in these conflicts. Children are so helpless. They suffer loneliness, excessive stress and acute depression just as we do. I have a little ten-year-old patient at the moment, a girl called Ellie. I’m trying very hard to help. In fact, she’s been constantly on my mind while I’m here on holiday. Ellie has a good many behavioral problems that are getting her deeper and deeper into trouble both at home and school. In some ways she’s a contradiction. I’m prepared to back my initial impression she’s highly intelligent, yet she’s earned the reputation for not being very bright, even with her parents.”

      “Good people?” he questioned, frowning slightly.

      “Good, caring people at their wits’ end,” Cecile confirmed. “So far I haven’t been able to make a breakthrough, either, though it’s early days.”

      “Then I wish you every success with young Ellie,” he said, sounding earnest. “Perhaps she’s grieving about something she can’t or won’t talk about? The innocent grieve. It is so very interesting, your choice of a profession. Surely you wouldn’t have known suffering or conflict in your privileged life? A princess, Joel Moreland’s granddaughter?”

      She felt a moment of unease. “Is that your exact interest in me, Señor Montalvan? I’m Joel Moreland’s granddaughter? I have to tell you I’m long used to it, consequently forewarned. I saw how you were secretly studying me while I was standing on the balcony.”

      “Perhaps I was only thinking how beautiful you were,” he answered, smoothly turning her into his arms again. “As serene as the swans that glide across your lake.”

      She had little option but to continue dancing. “Somehow I don’t think that was it. The look wasn’t at all an admiring glance or even friendly.”

      “What was it, then?” he asked, his wide shoulders blocking the light.

      She wished she could see his expression more clearly. “Extremely disconcerting.”

      “Perhaps that was only an illusion. I was simply admiring a woman exquisite in her beauty and outward appearance of serenity.”

      She couldn’t fail to pick up on the outward. “You think something entirely different goes on inside me?”

      “Would it be so strange if I did? I, too, am a student of psychology. No one could say it’s a simple life any more than we are simple beings. The inner person and the outer person can be significantly different.”

      “Of course. It’s no easy thing to become a well-integrated adult. We all continue to harbor the fears and anxieties we had as children, but we’ve had to learn how to master them or seek help. I see young patients in terrible self-destructive rages because they’ve had to live through years of conflict and unhappiness. I see a great deal worse, physical and sexual abuse sometimes where one least suspects.”

      “That must be extremely upsetting?”

      “It is.” She drew a deep breath. “I’ve seen children sent back to the care of the very people who’ve abused them and I’ve been helpless! Some of it I’ll never get out of my mind. It’s ghastly stuff. That’s one of the reasons I needed this holiday with Granddad. It’s not easy what I do and I can’t always stand aloof. In childhood we all assemble the building blocks that go into making the adult.”

      “So when the building blocks are in extremely short supply and the conflicts never resolve themselves, one is left scarred and without an inner haven to shelter.”

      “Exactly.” It was obvious he was following her words closely. “The violent pattern most frequently repeats itself.”

      He sighed, his breath warm and sweet. “It’s difficult to disassociate oneself from intense traumas in childhood. Didn’t William Faulkner once say something about the past not being over or even past?”

      “I’m not going to disagree with the great man.”

      “Me, neither. So you see we do have much to talk about, Cecile, if only our mutual interest in the development or the destruction of the human psyche. The great human values of love and honor coexist with hate and evil. Now, I must surrender you to your fiancé. He’s heading very purposefully in this direction. I don’t know that I would care to see my beautiful fiancée in another man’s arms, either.”

      CHAPTER FOUR

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