Innocent Invader. Anne Mather

      Constancia moved her hands in a soothing gesture. “Max supervised the children's tea, as he had done for many months now. And the señor said you were not to be disturbed.”

      “The señor? Oh!” Sarah pressed the palms of her hands to her hot cheeks. “Did the señor expect to see me?”

      Constancia nodded, and then as Sarah began looking agitated, she said in reply: “At six o'clock, before dinner, he asked me to come and fetch you. When I found you were asleep I told the señor, and he gave his instructions. It is natural that you were tired. You have had a long journey and the weather here can be tiring if you are not used to it.”

      “Did the señor say that?”

      “Si. Do not worry, señorita. The señor is not a slave-driver.”

      Sarah smiled and allowed her arms to fall to her sides. “Do you think he'll want to see me now?”

      “No, of course not, señorita. Besides, he is not at home. He left after dinner to visit with the Diaz family. He took the Señorita Dolores home.”

      “I see.” Sarah felt that strange feeling stirring in her stomach again. She did not know what it was, but it was not pleasant; it was disturbing.

      “He told me to tell you that he would see you in his study tomorrow morning at nine o'clock sharp.” Constancia smiled wider. “You will not sleep in tomorrow, señorita. I will see that you have plenty of time to prepare yourself.”

      Sarah had to smile in return “And will you show me where his study is, Constancia? I have no idea where to go. And what time do the children have breakfast?”

      Constancia shrugged. “Sometimes seven, sometimes eight – why? Surely you do not intend to breakfast with them? Everyone breakfasts in their rooms, except the señor, of course.”

      “That's exactly what I do intend,” said Sarah firmly. “After all, I'm not a guest, Constancia. I'm here to work.” She bent her head. “But will you please call me about six-thirty, please, as I doubt whether I shall wake of my own accord.”

      “Certainly,” Constancia nodded. “That is the time I begin my work. I will call you then.” She turned to go. “And now you will leave it to me and I will provide you with a delicious supper, si?”

      “Very well.” Sarah allowed herself to relax, and with a flourish of her full skirt, Constancia left to get the meal.

      Sarah wandered over to her balcony and leaned against the rail listening to the steady lap of the waves. It was a wonderful night. The sky overhead was an arch of dark blue velvet inset with diamonds, while a sickle of a moon floated behind wispy clouds. Never in England had she felt this aching longing to be out in the night, doing something exciting. Faintly, she could hear the sounds of music and voices, far away, and she thought it must be a party going on at one of the other villas. The music was the throbbing beat of the calypso, and Sarah felt she wanted to move in time to its compelling rhythm.

      She thought about Dolores Diaz, and wondered whether it was from her home the sounds were coming. Was she there, dancing with Jason de Cordova? Was that why she was so friendly with Serena, to gain access to this house to see the señora? It did not seem unreasonable. The señor and his wife did not seem on the best of terms with one another. Could it be that he was seeking consolation with another woman? The thought was repulsive. She had liked Jason de Cordova, and she did not like to think of him with Dolores Diaz.

      Constancia returned to interrupt her reverie and she was glad. Whatver was going on in the personal lives of the occupants of this house was none of her business, and the sooner she realised it the better.

CHAPTER THREE

      SARAH dressed the next morning in a lemon cotton dress and the slip-on sandals of the day before. Her hair as usual was bound round her head in the plaited coronet. She wore no make-up, but her time spent in the sun the previous day had not gone unwasted, and her skin was very lightly tanned. She looked much younger than her twenty-two years, although she was unaware of it, and as she went down to breakfast there was a spring in her step.

      There was no one around when she reached the dining room, but Max soon appeared and asked her what she would like. She decided on fresh fruit, rolls, and several cups of strong, continental-flavoured coffee.

      At about seven-thirty, when she was finishing her third cup of coffee, Ricardo appeared, alone. He had washed and combed his hair, and was wearing blue denim jeans and a white tee-shirt. He looked taken aback when he saw Sarah, and she said, smiling: “Good morning, Ricard.”

      Ricardo hesitated for a moment, and then he said: “Buenos dias, señorita.” He seated himself opposite her, and when Max appeared he ordered rolls and butter and some fruit juice.

      After Max had gone, Sarah poured herself another cup of coffee, and resting her chin on her hands, elbows on the table, she looked across at Ricardo. He looked up at her, and then involuntarily he smiled, and said: “I got dressed at tea time, but you weren't here.”

      Sarah sighed. “I know. I fell asleep.”

      “You went on the beach yesterday afternoon,” he said. “I saw you from my bedroom window. You went in the water.”

      “Yes, do you? Can you swim?”

      “Yes, I can swim, but we are not allowed to swim in the sea without supervision.” Ricardo pulled a face. “We are considered too young to take risks.”

      Sarah frowned. “And the pool? Do you use that?”

      Ricardo bent his head. “We are not allowed to use the pool. The Señora Irena can see it from her windows and she doesn't like to see us there.”

      “Indeed!” Sarah felt indignant. What was the use of a pool if no one was allowed to swim in it? “And why do you call her the Señora Irena?” she was puzzled. “She is your aunt isn't she?”

      “Yes, she is our aunt.” Ricardo said nothing further, for at that moment the two girls came bounding into the room, stopping abruptly at the sight of Sarah.

      “Good morning, girls,” said Sarah, but the two girls did not answer. They merely gave Ricardo a killing glance and seated themselves at the table.

      Sarah bit her lip. “I said good morning,” she remarked easily. “I would like to hear your answers.”

      Eloise looked indifferent, and Maria, who seemed to follow her elder sister's lead, did likewise.

      Sarah sighed, and looked at Ricardo, who shrugged almost imperceptively, and growled: “Answer her, Elly.”

      Eloise stared at him. “Traidor!” she spat at him angrily.

      “Eloise,” said Sarah wearily, “please. You will soon be a young lady. Kindly try to act like one.”

      Eloise looked at her. “Why should we care what you think of us?” she cried furiously. “Nobody cares about us, and we care about nobody!”

      Sarah felt a kind of compassion. The children were entirely too conscious of their background, and Irena was probably to blame, if yesterday's episode in the ante-room was anything to go by.

      “You'll just be another one like her,” Eloise hissed, at Sarah. “She hates us, you know – really hates us! She spat at us once!”

      Sarah was shocked now and showed it, but gathering her scattered wits she managed to say: “To me you are just three children whom I have come to teach. Why, back home in England I taught lots of girls and boys. I can assure you I won't spit at you, so can't we be friends?”

      Eloise looked sceptical still, and Sarah turned to Maria. “Maria, can you ride? I can. I thought we might take the horses out after breakfast if your uncle gives his