‘I THINK YOU should make a visit to the royal court.’
It was the day after Christmas. A wet nurse had been secured for Lorena’s baby, and it had been one of the pleasures of my life to give the care of the boy child into the hands of Garci, Serafina and Ardelia. He would live with them in the staff quarters until the estate was settled and the house rebuilt. As far as they knew, this was my father’s son and they welcomed him with joy. And I found too that the baby had insinuated himself into my heart, which to my surprise had not shattered when I’d learned that Ramón had betrayed me in the arms of Lorena. Garci restored my old cradle, and Serafina and Ardelia made baby clothes. The sheets and blankets were freshly laundered and I brought him to them on Christmas Day. As he was tucked in, the little boy gurgled and blew a bubble from his lips.
I’d turned to leave and saw Bartolomé standing watching. ‘Why don’t you come and say hello?’ I prompted him.
He approached the cradle cautiously. I took his hand and placed it over the baby’s. The child opened his fingers and curled them around Bartolomé’s thumb.
‘Oh,’ Bartolomé breathed. And for the first time since the dreadful day of his arrest, he smiled.
The next morning in the convent my aunt Beatriz made her surprise announcement.
‘Visit the court!’ I said in astonishment. ‘What a crazy idea! Whatever for? And where would the money come from for me to do that?’
Aunt Beatriz smiled a knowing smile.
‘Ah!’ I said, understanding coming to me. ‘Was it here that Papa deposited the secret amount of money that Lorena told me about when she was dying?’
My aunt nodded. ‘He made me swear not to tell you until the time approached for you to take your final vows. And then I was to let you know, so that you could choose whether you wanted to remain in the convent or live outside, modestly but independently.’
I took a minute to digest this information – how I had misjudged my father’s intentions towards me, I thought – and then I said, ‘But even if I have funds to finance the trip, why would I wish to visit the royal court?’
‘I feel it is your duty to let Ramón know that he has a son.’
‘It may be that he doesn’t want to know,’ I pointed out. I’d been surprised by my own reaction on hearing Lorena’s secret. Of course I’d felt shock and disappointment at Ramón’s betrayal. But it wasn’t having the long-term devastating effect on me that it might have had previously. Where once I might have given way to seething anger and despair, now I viewed the matter in a different way. I suspected that my relationship with Ramón had been superficial; our mutual attraction based on looks and possessions. The troubles we had encountered at the time of my mama’s death hadn’t drawn us together; on the contrary, we’d grown apart. Afterwards I was so much taken up with my feud with Lorena to appreciate what was happening between us and to realize the implications of the change in his manner. And indeed I’d been too immature to properly assess his character, for, although Lorena had seduced him, using the wiles of an older woman to flatter a younger man, Ramón had been a willing partner.
‘Most men like to know that they are capable of fathering a son,’ said my aunt. ‘They think that they can establish a dynasty through the male line. It is curious, for it’s the women who bind a family together and women who keep the household on a steady course. So it may be that Ramón wouldn’t acknowledge him publicly, but it would be wrong for us to conceal the child’s birth from his father.’
I thought about this. What complications might arise from the news that the child was not Papa’s? If things were left as they were, then the boy would inherit the estate. I didn’t mind this. I would have sufficient money to live well enough whether I chose to remain in the convent or leave it. I was unsure that telling Ramón was the correct thing to do. Perhaps my aunt was right, perhaps not. But in any case, I did want to see Ramón Salazar again. There was unfinished business between us.
‘You should go within the week,’ my aunt said. ‘A new year beginning will mark a new stage in your own life, Zarita. While the court is outside Granada it’s less than a day’s journey from here. I’ll contact an old friend who will find you accommodation and escort you to functions.’
‘An old friend?’ I teased her. ‘Would this be a man?’
‘I had many gallants who wooed me,’ Aunt Beatriz countered, but there was a hint of something unsaid in her eyes, so I persisted.
‘Did you favour any of them in a special way?’
Her cheeks dimpled. ‘Oh, I could speak the language of the fan as well as any señorita at court.’ She paused. ‘Yes, there was one. But he was not a courtier. He was of such lowly birth that my father, your maternal grandfather, would not countenance any liaison, so my gallant went away. He was killed in the War of Succession when the Portuguese tried to claim the Spanish crown. I thought I would die of a broken heart. I expect my father was thinking only of my welfare, but I judged him harshly, as no doubt you have your own father.’
Less harshly, I thought, now that I’d learned the reasons for his actions.
‘We are not so different, you and I, Zarita,’ my aunt continued. ‘I was very like you before I learned more of the ways of the world. My father arranged an affluent marriage for me. He wanted me to have a secure position and income so that I could manage my own house, but I was young and wilful so I ran away.’
‘You ran away!’
‘Oh, don’t be so shocked,’ she laughed. ‘I only ran as far as the nearest nunnery. So initially mine wasn’t a true religious vocation. I didn’t seek out the Lord. But sometimes now I think perhaps He sought me out, for this is where I have found love and abiding peace.’
Yes, we were similar, my aunt and I. And I too had discovered peace within the walls of the convent, but had I found love?
‘This friend I speak of, Zarita, was like another sister to me. She decided to marry for expediency and not to follow me into the cloister. And just as well, for it would have made a merry unrest here with two of us like-minded for fun and dancing. Her name is Eloisa and I will write to her. She will receive you into her household: you may come and go within her protection and she will engineer for you a meeting with Ramón Salazar.’
‘Very well,’ I said meekly. ‘But I will go as a nun.’
‘I think not.’ My aunt smiled, a light of mischief in her eyes. ‘You will go as a princess.’
She led me up into the loft of the convent house to find an old wooden trunk. ‘I brought this with me when I founded the order here,’ she said. ‘I wonder if any of these gowns will still fit me.’
She was taller than me, and despite being older she still had the slimness of a girl. Her way of life had given rise to none of the roundness of body that my mother had developed due to childbearing and a fondness for cake.
We opened up the chest, and there, swaddled in layers of silk, were the clothes my aunt had worn when she attended the royal court as a young girl. She lifted out a full-skirted red dress with a black net overskirt. ‘The style must be horrendously out of date but the material is of the best quality and Eloisa will have a seamstress who can alter it.’ She shook out the skirts and held it against herself. ‘I used to wear this dress with a necklace of rubies round my throat.’
I put my hand to my neck. I remembered the blackened beads in my mother’s jewellery box.
My aunt Beatriz must have guessed what was in my mind. ‘Always remember, sweetheart,’ she said, ‘that a beautiful flower needs no adornment.’
Beatriz shed tears as we said goodbye. ‘Send word to me when you arrive. Give my love to Eloisa. I hope things go well.’
Before I stepped into the carriage I took my aunt’s hand in my own. ‘It isn’t just for the matter of the child that I am travelling to the court to speak to Ramón Salazar.’
My aunt gave me a farewell kiss on the cheek. ‘I know, Zarita,’ she said. ‘I know.’