Sweet Revenge by Anne Mather Read Free Book Online Page A

used the night before and entered the dining-room. There was no one about, but in a few minutes another maid came to ask her what she would like for breakfast. This maid spoke broken English, and Toni was grateful. She explained that all she wanted was some coffee and rolls, and then wandered about the room exploring until it arrived. Half-way through her meal, Francesca appeared, her plait soaked and untidy, dressed in the same skirt and blouse she had worn the day before. Really, thought Toni, to remember Francesca was the daughter of a man who owned a castle was difficult when she continually dressed as though she had nothing else.
    After wishing the child ' Bom dia,' and receiving no reply but an insolent stare, Toni felt her temper rising. Controlling it with difficulty, she said: 'I wish you had told me you were going swimming, Francesca. I would like to have gone with you.'
    Francesca stared at her. 'Why should you?'
    Toni sighed. 'Well, why do you suppose? I like swimming. Is that answer enough for you?'
    Francesca shrugged. 'Paul never gets up before noon when he's here, and my grandmother is the same. Maybe it would be as well if you acted likewise.'
    Toni looked down at her coffee. 'Why are you so objectionable, Francesca?' she asked coolly.
    Francesca was obviously taken aback. 'I don't know what you mean,' she said sulkily.
    'Yes, you do. You know perfectly well what I mean. I would like to know, though, what have I done to deserve such treatment? Heavens, we only met yester- day!'
    'You're Paul's fiancee,' said Francesca.
    'So what! I know you don't like Paul, he told me so, but there's no reason for you to dislike me, surely?'
    Francesca buttered a roll, and bit it thoughtfully. 'Why has Paul come here?' she asked.
    Toni felt hot, but managed to control her blushes. She had no intention of allowing Francesca to see she had embarrassed her. 'To see his grandmother,' she replied.
    Francesca snorted. 'Some hopes! Paul only comes here when he wants money. If you thought he came to see Avo you're more gullible than I thought!'
    'Don't be impertinent,' said Toni, frowning. 'Even were anything of that sort true, which I am sure it's not, you're far too young to be making comments about it. It's nothing to do with you.' She finished her coffee. 'I think you're jealous, that's all. But why you should be jealous of me—'"
    Francesca laughed. 'I'm not jealous of you,' she said, and the way she said it was in itself insolence.
    Toni rose from the table, reaching for her cigarettes and lighting one. Francesca watched her.
    'Papa won't approve of you wearing slacks,' she said, with some satisfaction.
    Toni gave her an exasperated look. 'Really! Is that so? I'm positively quaking in my shoes!'
    Francesca looked mutinous and returned her attention to her rolls and butter. Without waiting for her to finish Toni left the room. She wasn't sure where she was going, but she had no intention of allowing Senhorita Francesca della Maria Estrada to arouse her any longer. The hall offered a selection of doors and Toni chose one. A corridor led to yet another door, and feeling quite adventurous now, Toni followed it, feeling quite disappointed when it opened into the courtyard that they had driven into the previous afternoon. She had thought she might find something exciting. However, deciding she might as well explore as wait around for Paul to get up, she ventured forward. Obviously Francesca knew Paul's habits better than she did.
    She spent the morning on the beach. Following the path she had seen Francesca take, she found the steps - hewn out of the cliff face which led down to the sandy cove. She rolled up her slacks and paddled, then searched for shells among the rocks as she had done as a child. The sun was warm on her shoulders, and the sense of well-being returned. Only Francesca's antagonism prevented her from feeling completely happy.
    She returned in good time for lunch, carrying her sandals in her hand. Entering the