SUZANNE had told her that a car was coming to pick them up at seven o’clock the following evening and, by a quarter to the hour, Ally was in a fine state of nerves.
She’d spent the last few hours selecting and discarding every item in her limited wardrobe and although she’d finally decided on the black dress she’d worn at the hotel in London, she wasn’t happy about it. It brought back too many memories, most of them unwelcome, and she hoped Raul wouldn’t think she’d worn the dress deliberately to remind him of their first meeting.
Her lips compressed as she viewed her reflection in the mirror. Of course he wouldn’t, she decided painfully. She doubted if he found anything about her particularly memorable. He was sexually attracted to her. She’d been forced to accept that. However unlikely it seemed when they were apart, it was true, but she had no delusions that he wanted any more than he had had already.
And yet, the night before…
But she didn’t want to think about the night before. She didn’t understand what had happened. She only knew she had spent the rest of the night and all day today trying to put it out of her head.
He didn’t care, she told herself fiercely. He enjoyed teasing her and making love with her, but she would only be fooling herself if she expected anything more of him. He was going to marry Julia; he had to marry Julia. And she was simply his final bid for sexual freedom.
Whatever, she had no more time to think about their relationship now. Not that it was a relationship, really. It was just a rather tawdry affair that she should have known better than to get involved in. It wasn’t as if she was any good at relationships, tawdry or otherwise. The years she’d spent with Jeff should have taught her that. And she was only building up a store of trouble for herself by allowing it to go on.
Downstairs, Peter, Suzanne and Julia were waiting for her. Ally thought how dowdy she must appear compared to their colourful sophistication. But the women were wearing what even Ally recognised were designer gowns, and she guessed this was one occasion when money was considered no object.
‘You look nice,’ said Suzanne at once, tucking her arm through Ally’s, and Ally wondered if that was what they meant by being damned with faint praise.
‘So do you,’ she said sincerely, admiring the other woman’s ankle-length taffeta. ‘That shade of blue really suits you.’
‘Oh, do you think so?’ Suzanne was evidently pleased. ‘Well, I had to have something decent for this evening.’ She lowered her voice. ‘Don’t say anything, but I think Julia’s hoping that Raul will pop the long-awaited question tonight.’ She squeezed Ally’s arm. ‘Exciting, isn’t it?’
‘Very,’ Ally managed, aware of a certain tightness in her chest. She glanced nervously about the foyer. ‘Is the car here yet?’
‘This looks like it now,’ declared Peter, stepping forward as a uniformed chauffeur came though the swing doors. ‘Shall we go, ladies?’
Julia took her father’s arm as they all left the hotel and descended the steps to where a long black limousine was waiting. The three women got in the back and Peter climbed into the front beside the driver. Then they were off, moving smoothly down the drive and out onto the same road that Ally and Raul had taken yesterday morning.
‘It’s good of the Ramirezes to send a car for us,’ remarked Suzanne happily, totally unaware of Ally’s tension. ‘It means Pete can have a drink without worrying about having to drive home.’
‘Well, I think Raul could have come for us himself,’ said Julia somewhat petulantly. ‘Or Carlos, at least. We are almost family, after all.’
“‘Almost” being the operative word,’ observed her mother, with a worried glance towards the chauffeur. Then, changing the subject, ‘Do you like Julia’s dress, Ally? It’s by a top designer.’
‘Oh—yes.’ Ally forced herself to look at the younger woman. Even in the shadowy light of the car the folds of coral-coloured fabric that draped the girl’s breasts were visible. ‘It’s beautiful. Is it silk?’
‘What else?’ asked Julia smugly, fingering the neckline of the dress. ‘I intend to get used to clothes like this.’
‘Julia!’
Once again her mother cast her an impatient look and Ally tried very hard not to care. But she couldn’t help wondering if Raul had any idea how mercenary his future wife was or whether Julia cared more for the man or the financial security he represented.
The route to Finisterre wound across the island, the moonlight glinting on the insignia on the bonnet of the limousine. As they left the busier area to the east of the island behind them, the road seemed to get narrower, or perhaps it was just the density of the vegetation that crowded in on either side of the car.
From time to time Ally caught a glimpse of the ocean encroaching on the sands at the foot of rocky cliffs. Less frequently, she saw the moon sailing above them, its silvery light throwing the faces of her friends into sharp relief.
She tried not to be apprehensive, but it was almost impossible, and she knew a feeling of disbelief at being here at all. What was she doing? she wondered. She didn’t belong in this company. She was an ordinary housewife, not a wannabe socialite like Julia and Suzanne.
Nevertheless, when they reached the Ramirez estate, she couldn’t deny the feeling of excitement that gripped her. Her first sight of Raul’s home was a memorable one and, in spite of the misgivings that had tormented her for much of the journey, she found herself moving forward in her seat, gazing out of the limousine’s window with wide enquiring eyes.
She’d known they were on Ramirez land for some time, but nothing had prepared her for the beauty of it all. The abundant vegetation had given way to white-railed paddocks where the occasional gleam of a polished coat or the flash of a silvery mane betrayed the presence of horses. Thoroughbreds, probably, she reflected, wondering if Raul and Julia went riding together. It was the sort of thing they might do: like sailing, it was a wealthy man’s pursuit.
Beyond the paddocks, walls overgrown with bougainvillaea hid gardens filled with roses and night-scented blossoms that enveloped the car in their fragrance. A hedge of scarlet hibiscus guarded the inevitable swimming pool that was floodlit from below the water, and they turned into a lamplit courtyard where tubs of geraniums provided vivid splashes of colour.
‘Magnificent, isn’t it?’ murmured Suzanne smugly, evidently pleased by Ally’s reaction. ‘Wait until you see the house.’
Ally was tempted to say that she could already see the house, but she guessed the white walls of the graceful plantation-style dwelling that confronted them hid a wealth of elegant features. The wide wrap-around verandah, that supported the iron-railed balconies above on tall marble columns, was some indication of how impressive the interior must be, and when Peter opened the door for his wife to get out, Ally followed on slightly uncertain legs.
The chauffeur had opened the other door for Julia and she came round the car to join them as a uniformed butler came out of the house to welcome them. With the muted roar of the sea echoing in Ally’s ears, they were escorted up the shallow verandah steps and through double doors into a high-ceilinged reception hall. A glittering chandelier hung at the curve of a sweeping staircase, its light glinting on the tiered fountain that sparkled in the middle of the marble floor. Huge urns of orchids sheltered in the well of the stairs, while the delicate bronze of a dancer adorned one of the many niches that illuminated the walls. The feeling was one of light and colour, and Ally found it almost impossible to take it in.
‘What did I tell you?’ whispered Suzanne, as a tall distinguished-looking man appeared in the sculpted archway to their right. He paused, smiled, and then came to meet them, his aquiline features so like his son’s that Ally knew immediately who he was.
‘Suzanne, Peter, Julia,’ he said smoothly, shaking Peter’s hand and raising Suzanne’s almost to his lips in continental fashion. Julia chose to step forward and kiss her future father-in-law on both cheeks, and Ally had the impression that Juan Ramirez would have preferred a less familiar salutation. However, his tone was warm as he continued, ‘I am pleased you could come.’
‘It’s our pleasure,’ declared Suzanne effusively and Peter echoed her words. Then, drawing Ally forward, she said, ‘May I introduce my old friend Alison Sloan?’
‘Mrs Sloan.’ Raul’s father turned to her with obvious pleasure. ‘I am delighted to meet you at last.’ He took her hand between both of his, holding it rather longer than was necessary, Ally was sure. He studied her intently. ‘My wife has been ill, you understand? In consequence, our earlier invitation had to be postponed.’
‘I understand.’ Ally didn’t know what to say and she was aware that the Davises were watching them with curious eyes. There was also a certain amount of resentment—on Julia’s part, at least—and, drawing her hand away, she murmured, ‘I hope Señora Ramirez is feeling much better this evening.’
‘Oh, she is. Much better,’ he assured her, releasing her hand with some reluctance. He held out his arm. ‘Come.’ He included the others in the invitation. ‘Isabel is waiting for us on the patio. I thought we might have pre-dinner drinks outdoors, if that is acceptable.’
Ally hardly noticed the elegant dining room they passed through on their way to the floodlit patio. She had a swift impression of another high-ceilinged room with gleaming dark furniture around a candlelit table, but she was so self-conscious at being singled out for attention she found it difficult to concentrate on anything else. Conscious, too, of the Davises following behind, and of what she suspected was Suzanne’s resentment at being ignored.
‘Where’s Raul?’ demanded Julia, displaying her pique in the sulkiness of her voice, but Juan Ramirez was unperturbed.
‘Rafael will join us shortly,’ he said as they emerged onto a paved terrace where the sound of the sea was louder. Several comfortable cane chairs and loungers were set beneath a fluttering awning. ‘Here we are, Isabel. Our guests have arrived.’
A refrigerated drinks trolley, attended by a white-coated waiter, was standing to one side, but Ally’s eyes were instantly drawn to the dark-haired woman who was rising with some difficulty from a cushioned rocker. She was so pale, and excessively thin, and Ally desperately wanted to rush towards her and assure her that she had no need to get up for them.
But etiquette dictated that she do nothing of the kind and there was no doubt that there was pride and hauteur in every line of Isabel Ramirez’s narrow face. There was beauty, too, Ally realised; the kind of beauty that had shown itself in the sensual curve of Raul’s mouth and the night-dark intensity of his eyes. He was, without doubt, a unique blend of both his parents and her mouth dried at the thought of meeting him again in their company.
‘Isabel!’ Clearly not prepared to be relegated to a supporting role on this occasion, Suzanne went swiftly past Juan and her friend to take Isabel Ramirez’s hands in both of hers. ‘It’s so wonderful to see you again. How are you feeling? We’ve been so worried about you.’
Had they? Ally tried not to remember that Isabel’s illness had only been mentioned in the most disparaging way between Suzanne and her daughter, and she was hardly surprised when Raul’s mother deflected any attempt to patronise her.
‘I assure you, I am feeling much better, Suzanne,’ she assured her coolly. ‘How are you? I seem to remember Julia telling us that you have been plagued by headaches in recent weeks. I trust it is nothing serious. Have you consulted with Dr Carrington, perhaps?’
Suzanne cast her daughter an impatient look. ‘Julia exaggerates,’ she said stiffly, and Ally guessed the girl had not heard the last of that. ‘I’m perfectly all right.’
‘That is good—’
‘This is Mrs Sloan, querida.’ With admirable skill, Juan Ramirez interposed himself between his wife and Suzanne, causing Ally no little embarrassment in the process. ‘You recall, Rafael was speaking of her earlier?’
‘Oh, yes. Of course.’ As Ally speculated on what Raul could have been telling his parents about her, Isabel Ramirez held out a slim elegant hand. ‘Welcome to Finisterre, Mrs Sloan. I am so glad you were able to accept our invitation.’
‘I—’ Ally glanced awkwardly at Suzanne who was regarding her with unconcealed irritation now. ‘It was kind of you to invite me. But, please—call me Ally, won’t you?’
‘Yes, and I’d like to say how much we appreciated Raul— Rafael—taking Ally sailing yesterday morning,’ put in Suzanne, determined not to be outdone. ‘It was very good of him.’
Isabel’s lips twitched, and she arched an aristocratic brow at her husband. ‘I doubt if Rafael invited Mrs—Ally—to go sailing out of the goodness of his heart,’ she remarked drily. And Ally, who had been smarting a little at her friend’s attempt to make her feel small, wasn’t the only one who wondered what she meant. Isabel’s eyes moved past them then, and a smile brought real beauty to her olive-skinned features. ‘Here he is now. Perhaps we should ask him.’