The Spanish Connection. Kay Thorpe
too. ‘Francisco rarely used it himself.’
‘Perhaps because he was all too rarely present to do so,’ came the dry return, bringing her gaze sharply back to the olive-skinned features.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘You know what it means,’ he said. ‘I’ve made it my duty since first discovering your existence to explore every aspect of my brother’s lifestyle during these past years. He was, it seems, no family man. He pursued other interests.’
Neither César nor Nicolás appeared to be listening to the conversation, but Lauren knew them too well to be assured that they were taking none of it in. No matter what his faults, Francisco was their father. She wanted them to remember the good times, few though they had been, rather than those of neglect.
‘I think we’d better go and have breakfast,’ she said. ‘We’ve disturbed you long enough.’
‘No matter,’ Rafael repeated. ‘By the time you finish your meal, I’ll have finished my work. The children will be taken care of while I show you over the castle.’
‘Gabriel was going to do that,’ she claimed, and saw the firm mouth take on a slant.
‘Gabriel has other commitments today. He left for Málaga half an hour ago. This afternoon I thought you might care to visit Ronda—unless, of course, you’d prefer to take siesta? A custom I’ve little time for myself, but I have no objection to others following it.’
Lauren shook her head. ‘I’m not used to resting during the day either.’
His nod approved the reply. ‘The children, of course, will follow their usual routine. The nursemaid who will be supervising them is a very trustworthy young woman. You can leave them safely in her hands.’
‘Nursemaid?’ Lauren was too angry at the presumption to pay heed to listening ears. ‘That’s hardly necessary!’
Dark brows lifted. ‘You’d prefer that they were left to their own devices?’
‘They’ll hardly be that when I’m here with them.’
‘But you need time of your own to do the things you enjoy,’ Rafael stated firmly.
Faced with two pairs of eyes alert to the altered atmosphere in the room, Lauren bit down hard on the response trembling on her lips. ‘We’ll discuss this later,’ she said instead, low-toned.
‘By all means,’ he agreed.
‘Were you and Uncle Rafael quarrelling?’ asked César in his clear treble as they went from the room.
‘No, of course not,’ Lauren denied, too well aware that Rafael could hear every word. ‘Just talking, that’s all.’
‘About us,’ piped up Nicolás, not to be left out. ‘We’re going to have a nursemaid to play with!’
Lauren closed the door firmly behind her before answering that one. ‘I’ll play with you myself.’
‘But you’re going out with Uncle Rafael,’ said César, sounding not in the least concerned at the notion. ‘Nico and me are going to splore.’
‘Explore,’ Lauren corrected automatically. ‘And you don’t go anywhere on your own. There are people staying here who won’t want children under their feet.’
‘Don’t they like children?’ asked Nicolás.
‘Well, yes, of course they do. At least, I imagine so. It’s just that they’re unlikely to be the kind of people who...’ Lauren sighed and came to a floundering halt, sensing the pitfalls inherent in that line of explanation. ‘They’re paying guests here on holiday,’ she substituted. ‘This isn’t the kind of place you’d bring children to.’
‘You brought us,’ César pointed out with indisputable logic.
‘That’s different.’
He considered for a moment before asking the anticipated, ‘Why?’
‘Because it is,’ Lauren responded firmly, in no mood for an extended session. Their having intelligence quotients above the normal for their age level was all very well, but supplying rational answers to the ever-ready questions sometimes taxed her to the limit. Hyper-activity was the result of a mind over-stimulated by its thirst for knowledge, the child psychologist, whom she had consulted on the advice of her GP, had said. It would lessen as that need was appeased.
Their starting school in September would help, although she was going to miss the pair of them like crazy. Still, it would leave her free to take at least a part-time job—always providing she could find one, of course. One thing she had no intention of doing was relying on Rafael for total support.
By comparison with the other rooms she had seen, the comedor could almost be described as intimate. The table, Lauren reckoned, would seat no more than a dozen at full stretch. Packets of cereal were ranged alongside a selection of preserves and jugs of orange juice on a side-table. As she helped the boys make their choice, a door on the far side of the room opened to admit a youngish woman wearing a neat blue dress and carrying a basket of rolls along with an earthenware coffee-pot.
‘Buenos días, señora,’ she said pleasantly.
Lauren smiled and returned the greeting, deploring her accent. ‘I’m afraid I don’t speak your language,’ she apologised.
‘I speak English,’ said the other. ‘It is needed that we do so for the guests. My name is María. The coffee is freshly made, the rolls warm from the oven. Is there anything else I can fetch for you, señora?’
‘No, this is just fine,’ Lauren assured her. ‘Thank you, María.’
The woman smiled and withdrew. Seated at table, the twins polished off their cereal in short order and had two rolls apiece spread with apricot preserve. Neither of them was over-fond of coffee, but they made vast inroads into the orange juice. Freshly squeezed, Lauren had been quick to note. Everything here would be top-class, of course. The kind of guests who could afford to stay in such surroundings would expect nothing less than the best.
The view from the windows was the same one she had from her own room. With the sun now well up in the sky, the light was pure and sparkling, the distances needle-sharp. Gazing out, she knew an eagerness to be out there exploring the beckoning beauty of the Sierra.
Rafael himself was the only drawback. There was no relaxing in his presence; she felt tense again at the very thought of him. Accustomed to ruling the roost, there was no doubt, but he needn’t think he was going to do it with her. She would go along with his plans for the twins’ care and entertainment at the moment because they themselves seemed willing enough to be left, only no way was she going to abdicate from her position as parent in ultimate charge.
With breakfast over, and the boys already restless, she was at something of a loss as to where to go from here. Emerging once more into the hall, she thought at first that the beautiful dark-haired young woman, just emerging from the library with Rafael at her back, was one of the guests who had perhaps lost her way, an idea soon scotched when he introduced her as Elena Santos who would be taking care of the children.
‘I am very happy to have such a task,’ said the girl. ‘I will be very careful of their welfare, señora.’ She smiled at the two boys. ‘You would like to play a game with me?’
They answered in unison and in the affirmative, apparently quite happy themselves with the arrangement. Lauren stifled a pang as they went off without a backward glance. Such parting was something she was going to have to accept anyway when they started school, and the sooner she got used to it the better. They couldn’t spend their whole lives tied to her apron strings; she wouldn’t want them to.
‘Which leaves the two of us free to follow our own pursuits,’ declared Rafael. ‘You would like to see the rest of the castle?’
‘I don’t