By Request Collection Part 2. Natalie Anderson
about looking for a story,’ he said. ‘If you set foot outside the villa grounds you will be under siege. You are not well enough to fend off their intrusive questions. You will end up even more confused and disoriented.’
Her grey-blue eyes narrowed slightly. ‘Are these precautions for me or for you?’
He squared his shoulders. ‘What exactly are you implying?’
She bit down on her bottom lip so hard it went white. ‘I don’t know what’s going on,’ she said. ‘I don’t know what’s what any more. You say we were happily married, but you don’t seem to like me, let alone love me.’
Javier placed his hand on the curve of her cheek, turning her head to face him. ‘This is not the time to be talking about my feelings,’ he said. ‘This is the time for you to concentrate on getting well again. That’s why I want you to stay within the confines of the villa grounds.’
‘What did I used to do to occupy myself when you went away on business?’ she asked.
Javier would have dearly liked to ask her the same thing. How long had her affair gone on, for instance? How many times had she met her lover while he was abroad on business? How many of her ‘shopping trips’ to London been a cover for other activities? ‘You used the gym in the building near the pool and you occasionally practised the piano.’
She frowned as she looked down at her manicured hands with their elegant French-polished nails. When had she stopped biting her nails? And how on earth did she play the piano with them so long? She looked up at him after a moment. ‘So I wasn’t teaching?’
‘No. You said you were no longer interested in teaching children,’ he said. ‘You said it didn’t suit your lifestyle any more.’
She was still frowning. ‘I said that?’
Javier studied her for a moment. ‘You said a lot of things, Emelia.’
‘What other things did I say?’ she asked.
‘You didn’t want children, for one thing,’ he said. ‘You were adamant about it.’
Her eyes widened. ‘Not want children?’
He nodded. ‘You didn’t want to be tied down.’
She put a hand to her head, as if to check it was still there. ‘I can’t believe I didn’t want kids. That seems so…so selfish.’ She looked at him again. ‘Did you want children?’
‘No, absolutely not,’ he said. ‘Children need a lot of attention. They can be a strain on a strong marriage, let alone one that is suffering some teething problems.’
Her forehead creased again. ‘So we were having some problems?’
Javier carefully considered how to answer. ‘Very few relationships don’t go through some sort of adjustment period. It was hard for both of us initially. I travel a great deal and you were new to my country and my language. In any case, it wasn’t always convenient to take you with me because I like to concentrate on business when I am away. On the few occasions you did come with me, you were bored sitting around waiting for me. Some meetings go on and on until things are sorted out to everyone’s satisfaction.’
‘So I decided to stay at home and play the corporate wife role…’ She chewed her lip again, as if the concept was totally foreign to her.
‘Emelia.’ He took her hand in his again, stroking the back of it with his thumb. ‘It was the way things were between us. It was what we both wanted. You seemed happy with the arrangement when I asked you to marry me. You understood the rules. You were happy to play the game. You slipped into the role as if you were born to it.’
She looked at their joined hands, a sigh escaping from her lips. ‘When I was a little girl I used to wish I could see into the future.’ She looked back up into his gaze. ‘But now I wish I could see into the past.’
He let her hand go and stood up from the bed. ‘Sometimes the past is better left alone,’ he said. ‘It can’t be changed.’
She pulled the sheet up to her chest, her forehead still creased in a frown. ‘Will I see you before you leave tomorrow?’ she asked.
He shook his head. ‘I am leaving first thing.’ He bent down and brushed his mouth against hers. ‘Buenas noches.’
‘Buenas noches.’ Her voice was a soft whisper that feathered its way down his spine as he left the room.
Aldana was in the kitchen when Emelia came downstairs the next morning. The atmosphere was distinctly chilly but she decided to ignore it. Ignore the bad, praise the good seemed the best way to handle a difficult person, she thought.
‘Good morning, Aldana,’ she said with a bright smile that she hoped didn’t look too forced. ‘It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?’
The housekeeper sent her a reproachful look. ‘I suppose as usual you will turn your nose up at the food I have set out for you?’
Emelia’s smile fell away. ‘Um…actually, I am quite hungry this morning,’ she said. ‘But you shouldn’t have gone to any trouble.’
Aldana made a snorting noise and turned her attention to the bread she was making. ‘I am paid to go to trouble,’ she said. ‘But it is a waste of my time and good food when people refuse to eat it.’
‘I’m sorry if I’ve offended you in the past,’ Emelia said after a tense silence. ‘Would it help if I sat down with you and planned the week’s menus? It would save you a lot of trouble and there would be less waste.’
Aldana dusted her hands on her apron in a dismissive fashion. ‘You are not the right wife for Señor Mélendez,’ she said. ‘You do not love him as he deserves to be loved. You just love what he can give you.’
Emelia tried to disguise her shock at the housekeeper’s blunt assessment by keeping her voice cool and controlled. ‘You are entitled to your opinion but my relationship with my husband is no one’s business but my own.’
Aldana gave another snort and turned her back to open the oven, signalling the end of the conversation.
Emelia decided to carry on as if things were normal, even though it troubled her deeply that the housekeeper thought her so unsuitable a wife for Javier. She had always imagined she would make a wonderful wife. After all, she had learned what not to do by watching first her parents’ disastrous and volatile marriage, and then her father’s subsequent ones after her mother had died. She had determined from a young age to marry for love and love only. Money and prestige would hold no sway with her. But now she wondered how closely she had clung to her ideals.
She ate a healthy breakfast of fruit and yogurt and toast and carried a cup of tea out to a sun-drenched terrace overlooking the villa’s gardens.
The scenery was breathtaking and the fresh smell of recently cut grass teased her nostrils. Neatly trimmed box hedges created the more formal aspect of the garden, but beyond she could see colourful herbaceous borders and interesting pathways that led to various fountains or statues.
After she carried her cup back into the kitchen, Emelia went on a tour of the garden. The sun was warm but not overly so and a light breeze carried the delicate scent of late blooming roses to her. She stopped and picked one and, breathing in its fragrance, wondered how many times she had done exactly this. She poked the stem of the rose behind her ear and carried on, stopping at one of the fountains to watch the birds splashing and ruffling their feathers in the water.
The sound of a horse whinnying turned her head. In the distance Emelia could see a youth leading a magnificent looking stallion to what appeared to be a riding arena near the stables a little way from the villa. She walked back through the garden and made her way to where the youth was now lunging the horse on a lead rope. He was a powerful-looking animal with a proud head and flaring nostrils, his tail arched in defiance as his hooves pounded through the sand of the arena.
Emelia