The Arrogant Duke. Anne Mather
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he was there before her, leaning against the door, preventing her escape.
‘Wait!’ he muttered sombrely. ‘Wait! Maybe I have been too hasty. Maybe you are right. Maybe Teresa does need a companion after all. You are not the first person to tell me so. Does not my own cousin-in-law advocate your arguments also?’ He straightened, looking down at her with enigmatic eyes. ‘Very well, senhorita, you may stay. At least for a month. We will discover at the end of that time whether your presence has created any special improvement. Sim?’
Juliet’s legs felt weak. She didn’t know whether it was the relief at knowing she was staying, or the Duque’s proximity, but she suddenly seemed breathless and completely enervated.
‘Ver – very well, senhor,’ she murmured, and then, as though common sense asserted itself, she said: ‘What – what are you going to tell Teresa?’ She moved slightly away from him, pressing her hands together, as a demon of disobedience urged her to continue: ‘This is always supposing I agree.’
The Duque caught his breath in an angry gasp. ‘Are you even daring to suggest you might not stay?’ he ground out.
Juliet shrugged, maintaining her calm attitude with the utmost difficulty. ‘Well, after all, you seem to imagine you can dismiss me and then re-employ me without even considering my feelings. ‘Oh, I agree, I did suggest that Teresa did require a companion, and I was angry that you should think you could return me to London like some unwanted parcel, senhor, but even I have feelings, and as a woman I deserve a little more consideration!’
‘O que hei-de eu fazer? You are the most exasperating creature I have ever met!’ he muttered angrily. ‘As for you being a woman, you are little more than a child yourself!’
‘I am twenty-one, senhor, and no more a child than your — your cousin’s widow, Senhora Vinceiro!’ Juliet disliked his assumption intensely.
The Duque pressed out his cheroot violently in a copper ashtray, and then stared at her coldly. ‘So, senhorita! May I have your decision? Or do you require time to think about it? I warn you, I may yet change my own opinion!’
Juliet felt her cheeks burning. ‘I’ll stay—’ then, as he would have spoken, she went on, ‘providing you tell me a little more about Teresa, and her condition, and the reasons for your antipathy towards a companion for her!’
She was amazed at her own temerity, and so apparently was the Duque. He lit another cheroot, and then crossed to a tray of drinks on a nearby table. He poured himself a large whisky, but drank it at one gulp before turning to Juliet and asking her whether she would care for a drink herself. Juliet shook her head, and he raised his eyebrows mockingly.
‘Surely English women are completely emancipated, are they not?’
‘I’ve just drank two cups of tea, senhor,’ replied Juliet coolly, marvelling at her own composure.
‘Touché!’ He half-smiled, revealing even white teeth, and Juliet felt a strange sensation disturb the pit of her stomach. It was not an unpleasant sensation, and yet it frightened her a little, and she was glad when he seated himself behind the desk, and resumed his lazy scrutiny of the papers on his desk.
Juliet hovered uncertainly by the door, and he nodded to the chair opposite him. ‘Do sit down, senhorita, or I shall have to stand myself, and this may take a few minutes.’
Juliet subsided into the chair again, and linked her hands in her lap, the demure attitude belying the strength of her convictions.
‘So, senhorita,’ he began, ‘I will tell you about Teresa. As you know she is sixteen years of age, and reasonably intelligent. Prior to the accident she attended an academy in Lisbon, my brother lived near there, you understand, but on her parents’ death, and her own subsequent disability, she was brought here — by me.’ He drew on his cheroot. ‘Teresa was not my brother’s child, but the child of his wife, and her first husband.’
‘Yes, Teresa told me,’ replied Juliet, and he frowned.
‘I see. She must have been singularly confiding this afternoon. Still – as I have said, after the accident, I brought her here. There was no one else. Her mother’s family – parents, at least, were dead, she had no brothers or sisters. The child was quite alone. Naturally, as she had taken my brother’s name, she was as much his child as any blood relation could be.’
‘I see.’
‘The accident – it was tragic. The usual motorway pile-up, with Teresa trapped in the wreckage for hours. Hours when she was conscious, and suffered much mental torture.’ He sighed. ‘The hospital could find little wrong with her; there is no injury to her legs, no spinal damage, she simply refuses to walk! It is as simple – or maybe, as difficult – as that!’ He leant forward. ‘And that is why I do not wish her to become emotionally disturbed, in any direction! She already is disturbed, and only time, and affection, and patience can cure her. She has a nurse, Miss Madison is a very capable woman. But she is old, in her fifties, and consequently can provide little companionship to a girl of Teresa’s age.’
Juliet sighed. ‘Then why create so much difficulty about employing a companion for her?’ she exclaimed.
The Duque frowned. ‘You are a very curious young woman, Miss Summers. I do not know that I care for your attitude!’
Juliet’s colour deepened. ‘Why? Don’t you like plain speaking?’
‘Plain speaking? What is this? The right to be impertinent if one so desires?’
‘No. It’s just being truthful, and calling black black.’
‘Hmm! Well, I will reserve judgment, senhorita.’
‘And are you going to tell me why you refused to employ me?’ Juliet determined to have it all out with him.
He shrugged. ‘Estelle did it all, senhorita. As she did before. Only then the girl was an American, Laura Weston. It was a disaster. Teresa disliked her, and there were continual bouts of disharmony in the household. In addition – oh, well, that at least is of no interest to you. So, senhorita, what do you think now?’
Juliet sighed. ‘Of course I should like the job,’ she admitted. ‘Teresa presents a challenge. I never could resist a challenge.’
He smiled, this time without mockery. ‘You have courage, pequena.’
Juliet wished he had said nothing. There was that awful sensation in her stomach again. She got hastily to her feet.
‘Do you want me to tell Teresa?’ she asked.
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