Page 6 of Spanish Marriage Solution

Emily, who was afraid of the horses and complained of the isolation. Who wanted a bright, modern apartment in Paris, not some centuries-old, dark and dusty Spanish estate. Sebastián had duly bought her that Paris apartment and she’d spent a lot of time there, Alice knew. Probably to coincide with Edward’s ‘business trips’.

But she wasn’t going to think of that, not about her sister and her husband. That way lay too much pain and she was barely getting by with grieving their loss, let alone their infidelity as well.

She walked through an archway that led into the central courtyard and then down a colonnaded path that ran down the side of the house before stepping through a door and into the cool of the wide hall.

Her suitcase was still standing beside the big wooden double front doors, as was her handbag. Well, it could stay there. She wasn’t leaving.

She went down the hallway and into the huge living area. It was all low ceilings with exposed timber beams and stone flooring covered with thick rugs. Low couches upholstered in faded blue linen with thick white cushions were clustered around the giant fireplace, and dark wooden shelving lined the whitewashed walls.

It was wonderfully cool in here and she was tempted to sit down on one of the couches for a rest, because she was feeling overheated and dizzy, and still faintly nauseous. Then again, if she sat down, she wasn’t going to get up again, and that wasn’t going to help.

Besides, apart from anything, she wanted to see Diego.

Eventually, she tracked Lucia down in the kitchen. The housekeeper was putting something in the oven and, seeing Alice, she straightened and gave her a smile. ‘Did you find Señor Sebastián?’

Alice smiled back. ‘I did. But I have a problem, Lucia. I’m here to spend time with my nephew and I was silly. I didn’t give either you or Sebastián any warning I was coming. So he’s not very happy with me, I’m afraid.’

Lucia raised her hands. ‘It’s no problem. We have plenty of room. It is just Señor Sebastián and the little one now. And as for him not being happy with you...’ She shrugged. ‘He will get over it. You are not a stranger, after all.’

No, but she might as well be.

‘Are you sure?’ Alice didn’t care about putting out Sebastián, but she didn’t want to make things difficult for Lucia. ‘There is a hotel in the village—’

‘No, no,’ Lucia interrupted emphatically. ‘No, Señora Alice. You must stay here. I will not hear of you going to the village. No, absolutely not.’

It didn’t matter how many times Alice had told Lucia to call her just Alice, the housekeeper insisted on calling her señora. It made her almost smile. Emily had loved Lucia, because Lucia liked taking care of people and Emily had loved being taken care of. Lucia was warm and motherly, and Alice had liked her too.

‘Okay,’ she said, feeling relief spread through her. ‘I’d love that.’

‘Good.’ Lucia put down the tea towel she’d been holding. ‘Now, I will get a room ready, but first you need food and something to drink. You have had a very long trip here, no?’

‘Yes, it was very long.’ Alice swallowed, feeling unaccountably nervous. ‘Might I...see Diego?’

Lucia’s smile became even warmer, the look in her dark eyes softening. ‘He is having a nap now. And you, I think, need food, coffee and a rest.’

There was a fleeting moment’s disappointment that she couldn’t see him immediately, but she didn’t want to wake him up, and it was true she’d really love a rest, so she let herself be taken charge of by Lucia instead.

Half an hour later, when Alice was feeling better after some food and a strong cup of coffee, Lucia showed her to one of the guest rooms. Without asking, she’d put Alice in a different room from the one she and Edward had normally used, which Alice was grateful for since she didn’t need any more reminders.

It was a pretty room, too, with a terrace that overlooked the courtyard. The dark wooden French doors to the terrace stood open, allowing air to circulate, carrying with it the scent of lavender and the sound of the fountain.

A four-poster bed draped in white muslin was pushed up against one wall and covered in a thick white quilt, a pile of pillows resting against the carved headboard.

Alice sat down on it with some relief. She’d taken off her rumpled suit the moment Lucia had left, and had stepped into the en suite bathroom to have a cool shower. She felt better now, but there was still that deep-seated weariness that felt as if it had settled into her bones. Grief, naturally. It had been two months since Emily and Edward had died, but that exhaustion was still there, tugging at her.

She lay down on the soft quilt and put her head on the pillow, the cotton cool under her cheek. Yes, a rest was a good idea. She certainly was going to need all the energy she could get in order to face Sebastián again. Especially when he found out she hadn’t left as he’d ordered her to.

It was only supposed to be a quick nap, but when Alice opened her eyes again, the room was full of the red-gold light of a long, European twilight. She must have slept half the day away and now it would probably be too late to see Diego. Still, she had to admit, she felt a lot better.

A good thing, considering a confrontation with Sebastián was on the cards.

Slipping off the bed, she went to her suitcase to find something to wear that wasn’t a suit, only to see that on the low couch at the end of the bed had been laid a loose, cool-looking dress in faded red linen. It wasn’t hers, which meant Lucia must have put it there for her.

Alice picked it up. The material was soft and silky, and with the loose style it looked as if it would fit. The faded red was a beautiful colour too. Where had Lucia found it? Was it Emily’s? It probably wasn’t, considering it wasn’t Emily’s colour, but then there were a lot of things she’d thought Emily wouldn’t like and apparently had.

After a moment, she slipped the dress on and, indeed, it fitted beautifully, the red linen cool and soft against her skin. It was much less constricting than her suit, and she loved the feeling of the skirts swirling around her legs.

She didn’t normally wear dresses. Emily was the pretty, feminine one. The one their father had doted on and their mother had called her ‘little princess’. Alice had been the oldest and therefore the responsible one. Too independent and headstrong for their father and too tall and athletic to be anyone’s little anything.

---