House of Storms by Violet Winspear Read Free Book Online Page A

know a great deal about them. 'Such white little teeth, rather like grains of rice.'
    A remark that touched Debra, though she was trying quite hard not to let the look and sound of this man get under her skin. He was a sudden and very alarming addition to the household, for she hadn't been prepared to meet in the flesh the living likeness to the Spaniard who had founded this family. Every muscular inch of him seemed to pulse with energetic life, as if he did take after his forebear in ways as well as looks.
    Amused and intent he watched his nephew drinking orange juice from his Mickey Mouse mug, the boy's blue eyes fixed in turn upon his face. They seemed to Debra to be taking each other's measure, as if they were establishing their family bond.
    'Joose,' Dean said, offering the mug to Rodare after he had taken his fill.
    Rodare accepted the mug and solemnly raised it to his lips and swallowed some of the juice. 'Mmm, very tasty, pequeño .'
    Dean glanced at his nanny with an eager smile, then he looked at Debra to see if she was impressed by his generosity. Utterly beguiled by him she took hold of his hand and kissed his plump fingers. 'You are a little gentleman, Dean.'
    He nodded his head as if in agreement with her, and his uncle said musingly: 'Amazing in a child so young to have such innate good manners. He is quite a boy, I think.'
    'He's Mr Jack's compensation,' Nanny Rose replied. 'Have you any idea of his whereabouts, Mr Rodare? He's making everyone so anxious the way he's behaving. After all, it's his duty to consider the living.'
    'I quite agree, Nanny Rose.' Rodare gazed down sombrely at his brother's child. 'I had no idea Jack was still absent from Abbeywitch, and I shall have to look into the matter. I was very surprised when told that he was still away and had not communicated with his mother. As you rightly say, he has young Dean to consider.'
    'I hope the poor man is all right,' Nanny Rose said worriedly. 'He wouldn't have gone and done something—foolish?'
    'I think it very unlikely.' Rodare gestured in a very Latin way. 'No, he is in a morose mood that won't allow him to see reason. When we were boys he had a tendency to sneak off when he was upset about something, and the loss of Pauline was a great shock to him . . . perhaps he took some of the blame because they were quarrelling.'
    Rodare glanced at Debra as he spoke, as if curious to see her reaction to his remark, and it did amaze her that Jack and Pauline had not been in sympathy, especially so soon after the birth of their son who should have been the living proof that they still cared for each other.
    Debra's gaze dwelt on the handsome little boy, so unaware that he no longer had a mother and that his father was hiding away somewhere, either stricken by guilt or grief. Dean banged happily on his cereal bowl with his spoon, and Debra wanted to take him in her arms and hug him for Pauline . . . the girl from the chorus line who had never been accepted at Abbeywitch.
    'Well, I have things to see to after my lengthy absence.' Rodare Salvador strode to the door. 'When I am less tied up, Nanny Rose, I shall take the pequeño to the zoo at Penarth. He looks as if he'd enjoy seeing the elephants and tigers, and someone has to stand in for Jack, eh?'
    Directly the door closed behind him Debra sank down in the nursery rocker. It was as if a strong wind had swept through the nursery and left turbulence in its wake.
    'So they were quarrelling,' she murmured. 'Jack Salvador and Pauline.'
    Nanny Rose nodded. 'It was one of those marriages that never stood much of a chance. She had lovely long legs and could kick them high, but she didn't have a mind that could match his. It was based on physical attraction and to give his mother her due she knew this and would have preferred him to get Pauline out of his system without putting a wedding ring on her finger. That kind of attraction is far apart from love.'
    'Then what is love?' Debra murmured, unable to believe