Meeting in Madrid by Jean S. Macleod Read Free Book Online

came here without permission while you were supposed to be somewhere else. The Vegas are very old friends of the family and we do not wish to offend them. Such things are not done in Spain, even yet,’ he added as a waiter approached with their order of roast sucking pig on ancient earthenware platters which had been burned almost black with constant use.
    Catherine’s appetite had gone, but she forced herself to eat under his eagle eye while he ordered a fi no and drank it while he waited.
    The minstrel students came to stand beside them, playing softly, but most of the romance had gone from their performance for Catherine, at least. She could no longer respond to the gentle words, and the sighing guitars were almost more than she could bear.
    Teresa braved out the situation with what seemed to be a total disregard of his anger.
    ‘Jaime, you must admit that it is all wonderfully romantic,’ she sighed, looking across the table at the violinist with wide soulful eyes. ‘You play the guitar yourself: why do you think this is not the same?’
    ‘Possibly because it is no more than a gimmick,’ he returned as the serenading group moved away. ‘They do it solely for the money they can make.’
    ‘I think you are wrong,’ Teresa declared. ‘They sing with all their hearts and we respond to the music, not to them.’
    He looked amused.
    ‘So long as that is the case,’ he said, ‘who am I to reprimand you!’
    Had his anger evaporated so easily, Catherine wondered, or was he only holding it in check till they left the restaurant and he could tell them what he really thought? The evening had been spoiled, as much for herself as for Teresa, although Teresa was quick to find another delight.
    ‘This little pig is delicious!’ She dug into the succulent flesh. ‘Why don’t you try some, Jaime? Now that you are here we can stay much longer.’
    ‘You are expected home before midnight,’ he reminded her. ‘You are supposed to be visiting privately.’
    The dark eyes under their thick fringe of black lashes were suddenly lifted to his.
    ‘Does that mean you are going to keep our secret?’ she demanded. ‘ Gracias , Jaime!’ she rushed on before he could make his decision one way or the other. ‘It is very kind of you, and I will obey you in future. I will do anything you wish!’
    ‘It would be nice if you meant what you said on the spur of the moment,’ he returned drily, but some of the anger had already gone out of his eyes and he settled more comfortably into his chair to enjoy another fino while they disposed of their sucking pigs.
    ‘Catherine can’t finish hers!’ Teresa pointed out a few minutes later. ‘She has no appetite now, perhaps because you were so angry with her.’
    ‘I was angry with you both,’ he said, ‘but since no harm has come from your foolish venture, we will try to forget it.’
    Catherine could not forget his anger, however, that initial flash of impatience which had darkened his eyes, hardening his whole face even as she watched, and somehow she knew that Teresa’s disobedience was only part of the reason. There was also her own part in their adventure to consider, and it seemed reasonable enough for him to consider her completely irresponsible. He had been at little pains to hide his feelings when they had first met and now she seemed to be confirming them.
    By quarter to twelve they were driving in the stream of traffic along the Calle de Bailen and just before midnight they were home. A light was burning in the Marquesa’s room on the second floor and it seemed that they were expected to go there to report on their ‘happy evening’.
    It amazed Catherine to see how skilfully Teresa managed to evade the truth. Her animated description of their visit to the Vega household suggested that nothing could have been more congenial than the senora ’ s company, and the fact that Don Jaime had ‘collected’ them to bring them home seemed the most natural sequel at the end of