Exotic Affairs(90)

‘Highborn’ and ‘haughty’ were the mocking words that came to mind to describe the way they were looking back at her. Which then made her think that if these people were related to Luiz, then he had to come from some very rare stock. Some young, some old, some distinctly curious, some noticeably cautious, she noted. But what struck her the fiercest were the waves of antipathy she could feel bouncing off them, even though she could sense they were trying hard to hide it.

They don’t like Luiz, she realised on a blinding flash of insight. They might be here in his home, enjoying his champagne and his hospitality, but they resent it for some baffling reason.

Which served to further confuse a situation that was already muddled enough.

Then, at last, she noticed her father, standing slightly apart from the others and seemingly not at all pleased, by the look on his face. He was frowning into the whisky glass he held in his hand instead of bothering to glance their way, as everyone else had done the moment the doors had opened.

She knew what he was thinking. He was thinking—When the hell, with all these people around, am I going to get my game of poker? Because that was the way his mind worked when he was in the grip of his personal madness.

Well, he is about to receive a rather nasty surprise! she predicted with no sympathy for him whatsoever. He had let her down tonight, let her down so badly that it was going to be hard for her to forgive him this time.

This time—she repeated. How many ‘this times’ had there been over the last ten years?

And how many more were there going to be? Plenty, she predicted, despite Luiz’s grand promise.

‘Really, Luiz.’ A rather large-boned lady, wearing a very regal magenta silk gown, decided to break the silence with haughty censure. ‘I am too old to be indulging in late-night parties. Do you see the time? Do you realise how unforgivably rude you have been, summoning us all here then leaving us to kick our heels while we await your pleasure?’

‘My apologies, Aunt Beatriz,’ Luiz murmured, seeming not to notice the contempt in the older woman’s tone. ‘But I was so sure you wouldn’t want to miss this particular party once you knew the reason for it.’

‘Reason—what reason?’ Still cross, but curious, the aunt fixed him with a stern glare.

‘A celebration,’ Luiz replied—deliberately, Caroline was sure, titillating everyone’s senses with carefully chosen words. ‘Of my incredible good fortune…’

The moment he said it Caroline’s chest felt tight again, responding to what she knew was about to come. Luiz’s hand slid from her back to her waistline, but whether it was offering warning or support she wasn’t certain. And her father’s head came up, eyes that were more grey than amethyst fixing sharply on his daughter.

‘In the full tradition of the Vazquez family,’ Luiz was saying smoothly beside her, ‘I have brought you all here to introduce you to Miss Caroline Newbury. The lady who has just promised to be my bride—and my future Condesa…’

After that kind of announcement it was difficult to say who was more utterly dumbfounded. His family or Caroline herself. Caroline was certainly swinging dizzily off balance yet again—because to be Luiz’s future Condesa meant that Luiz had to be the Conde!

Her heart gave a thudding kick, sending shock waves rampaging throughout her whole system. As she watched, having no ability left to do much else, she saw two dozen faces drop. It was terrible. The whole situation was utterly terrible. Not so much for her but for Luiz. Did none of these people have a single nice thing to say to him? Could they not at least pretend delight at his news? They didn’t know that Luiz wasn’t head over heels in love with his newly betrothed!

And further back, standing apart from the others, was her father, his expression completely frozen. He had caught on quickly, Caroline realised. He might be self-obsessed most of the time, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew that if Luiz was announcing his intention to marry his daughter, then she had sold herself to him for the price of her father’s debts.

‘No.’ She saw his mouth form the denial, and tears began to clog her throat.

Then one voice—just one voice in a wilderness of silence—sighed and said, ‘Congratulations.’ A woman about her father’s age stepped forward. ‘And to think we all thought when you had us gather here tonight that you were about to surrender your title and go back to America!’

Hoped, Caroline grimly corrected as she felt the atmosphere in the room change from hidden hostility to forced elation in one violent swing. After that they were buried beneath a sea of congratulations, and she found herself struggling to keep up with the names and the embraces being thrust her way. Champagne corks began to pop. The waiter-cum-croupier began handing out glasses for everyone to share a toast.