‘I did get keen for a few years,’ Elaine admitted, glad that the topic gave her an excuse to look out over the gardens. ‘But then I moved into a flat that doesn’t have a garden. I tried window-boxes but I’m away such a lot that even those got neglected, I’m afraid.’
‘Does your work take you away a lot, then?’
‘Yes, I do seem to be travelling more as the business expands, but mostly in Britain, of course; we’ve only recently started working in Europe.’
His had been a polite, conversational kind of question and her reply had been on the same lines, that embarrassing moment safely forgotten, she hoped. So she was taken aback when Calum said, ‘I understand you’re a widow?’
Elaine’s face hardened. ‘Yes.’ Her reply was short and crisp, not because she was still sensitive about the subject, but because she’d learned from experience where that kind of question usually led. Inwardly she cursed herself for having watched him, for letting him think that she might be attracted to him.
Tensely she waited for the inevitable proposition that always came after that question from a man, and was ready to tell him to get lost as forcefully as she knew how, even if it did cost her this job. But Calum said, ‘And your business was entirely your own idea, and you’ve built it up yourself?’
‘Yes.’
‘You’ve done well. It must have been hard at times.’
Beginning to be puzzled, wondering whether she’d been wrong, but still cautious, Elaine answered, ‘Yes, especially at the beginning.’
He looked at her expectantly, obviously presuming that she would enlarge further, but at that moment Francesca and Tiffany Dean came out on to the terrace. An interested light came into Calum’s eyes as he looked at Tiffany and he immediately walked over to them.
He said, ‘Francesca, do you have any further instructions for Mrs Beresford on the party at the quinta?’
Francesca nodded, although rather reluctantly, and when she went into the sitting-room with Elaine she stood in line with the terrace door so that she could look out to where Calum had now gone to sit next to Tiffany. She seemed abstracted, her attention more on the other two than on the papers she was supposed to be looking through. Her behaviour puzzled Elaine, until she thought of an obvious reason for it, then her eyes widened a little in surprise. Was Francesca jealous of the interest Calum was showing in Tiffany? Francesca had often spoken of her cousin, but it had never occurred to Elaine that she might feel more for him than a cousinly affection. But now Francesca made a move as if to go outside and confront the two of them, so Elaine said hastily, ‘Do you know how many fado dancers and singers we’ll have to cater for?’
With obvious reluctance, Francesca looked at a list and said, ‘About twenty, I should think.’ She added some more people, and then said, ‘Oh, and the bullfighters and their assistants.’
Elaine stared at her incredulously, not having known they were having that kind of entertainment. ‘Bullfighters?’
Francesca glanced at her, then said reassuringly, ‘Oh, don’t worry, we don’t kill the bulls in Portugal. In fact, it’s forbidden.’
‘But the poor horses?’
‘We won’t use those either. The matadors will be on foot. It’s rather like a ballet,’ Francesca explained patiently. ‘All very graceful and very harmless. Really. You must watch it.’
Mentally deciding that she would definitely give it a miss, Elaine made a note on her list. She went to ask another question, but Francesca was looking out on to the terrace again where Calum was laughing at something Tiffany had said. The angry look came into Francesca’s eyes again, but just then her other cousin, Chris, came into the room and Francesca gave him an expressive but silent order to go outside and break it up.
He frowned, but did so, and it was interesting to see how annoyed Tiffany was to see him, although she covered it quickly and Calum didn’t notice. So apparently there were two women who were interested in the heir to the Brodey empire, Elaine realised. Though she wouldn’t have thought that either was right for Calum; the Brodeys were such a close family that marriage to Francesca would seem like incest, and Tiffany—well, she just didn’t look right for the part.
‘Elaine?’
She became aware that Francesca was waiting for her attention. ‘Oh, sorry.’
They spent a further ten minutes or so discussing the details of the quinta party, then Francesca went outside to join the others. Elaine watched them for a few minutes, feeling herself to be the outsider, the lookeron. But interested for all that. But then, people were always interesting, especially if their basic feelings were aroused for some reason. Elaine found that she quite enjoyed watching others, especially as she always carefully fought down any feelings of her own.
She went back to Calum’s office and typed out a detailed list of all that would be required for the big estate workers’ party. They would need more cutlery and crockery, yet more glasses for the barrels of wine that would be drunk. It meant calling the local company that was supplying all these things, and no one there spoke any English. Picking up her lists again, Elaine went back to the sitting-room to get Francesca to put the call through for her.
Chris and Tiffany had gone, leaving the other two alone. They were sitting together on the wall surrounding the terrace and Calum had his arm round Francesca. As Elaine approached she saw Francesca give him a look of open entreaty. Calum drew her to him and kissed her. Admittedly, the kiss was on Francesca’s forehead, not on her mouth, but the look she gave him in return was almost one of adoration.
Calum said something to her, then glanced up and saw Elaine. Immediately he let Francesca go and stood up. ‘Here’s Elaine looking for you again.’ Was there a warning in his tone? Elaine wasn’t sure.
Francesca made the call for her and Elaine went back to the kitchens, wondering if the cousins were having an affair. Was that why Calum hadn’t married—because he was in love with Francesca? But both of them were free, so what was to stop them? Unless their grandfather had put his foot down and forbidden it because of the close family relationship. But would that make any difference to two such self-assured people? If they loved their grandfather it might, Elaine surmised. Or if they were afraid of being cut out of his will.
She made sure that the preparations for dinner that evening were in hand, then went into the dining-room to put the name-cards into silver holders and set them round the table, following the seating plan. This room, like all the rooms in the palácio, was sumptuously furnished with antique pieces that looked as if they’d been there since the house was built—which they probably had. Elaine spent a lot of time preparing the table, arranging a beautiful centre-piece of flowers which the gardener had brought up for her. When she’d finished, the table looked really beautiful, a fitting background to this family celebration dinner.
Late that night, her work done and the family dinner over, Elaine took a last look round the dining-room, then went into the hall. The front door was opened by a key and Calum came in. Elaine knew that the chauffeur had been sent for earlier and that Calum had taken Tiffany home. A host’s politeness perhaps, or because he was keen on the girl? He certainly couldn’t have lingered; he had been gone only long enough to drive into the city and back. The thought strangely pleased Elaine.
Calum gave her a questioning look and nodded towards the folders she was carrying. ‘You’re not still working, surely?’
‘Just a few things I want to check over.’
‘About the bicentennial? Can I help?’ He put out an arm as if to steer her into the library.
‘No,’ she said quickly. ‘It’s for some functions back in England.’
‘You must learn to delegate,’ Calum said with a smile. It was a very charming smile, and he