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It was locked. That was something new—there had never been any need to lock doors at Mariposa. The entire area depended on the olive groves for income. No one would dare jeopardize his or her livelihood for a little pilfering.
I pushed the doorbell, hearing it chime deep inside the cavernous confines of the house, and felt my momentary tears drying up with irritation. What the hell was going on here?
Maldonado answered the door. Granda’s majordomo since the beginning of time, he had always seemed ancient to me, and he looked no different, tall and thin and disapproving as an El Greco, staring down his aristocratic nose. “Miss Bella,” he said with a complete lack of enthusiasm. He was blocking the door, and for a moment I wondered if he was going to move out of the way or continue to bar my entrance. The Maldonado I’d known had been austere but friendly to me. What had happened to the old man?
“Buenas dias, Maldonado,” I greeted him with a cheerful smile that he met stonily. “How have you been?”
I half expected him not to answer, but years of training came into play. “Well, Miss Bella. And you?”
“Quite well, thank you,” I said, as he ushered me into the darkened hallway with what seemed like a trace of reluctance. “How’s Granda today?”
“Your grandfather is as well as can be expected,” he intoned, telling me exactly nothing. “Mister Ian has had you placed in the Queen’s Room. If you will follow me, I’ll have someone bring your luggage.”
Of course Ian had suggested the Queen’s Room. It was the farthest from Granda’s, the farthest from the bathroom, cold and dark and unwelcoming. The name was, in fact, a joke. No queen had ever visited Mariposa, but Granda had kept an endless series of “friends” in residence, beautiful women who decorated his table and his bed in return for his generosity, and I hadn’t realized they were his mistresses until my mother had dragged me away. That had been one of her excuses, citing the immoral example the old man had set.
I never considered how odd the accommodations were until after I had left. Clearly the old man hadn’t wanted his women friends to become too accustomed to the delights of Mariposa.
“I can find my way on my own,” I said.
“Sorry, Miss Bella. Mister Ian has said you are not to be allowed to roam the house unaccompanied.”
I made a disgusted noise. “What does he think I’m going to do, steal the good silver?”
Maldonado said nothing, but there was an odd expression in his dark eyes. Had someone been pilfering things after all? Was that why the doors were locked?
“Very well,” I said grudgingly. I gave him a speculative glance. “In the meantime, I’ll need to make arrangements to get back to the airport tomorrow. Perhaps you would see to it?”
“What has Mr. Ian said about it?”
I pulled Bella around me like a fur mantle. “Bloody Christ, Maldonado, I don’t care what Ian has to say about anything!” I snapped. “I have appointments, responsibilities. I was only able to get away for one night, but then I’m due back in France. I need to make certain I don’t miss my plane.”
“I believe Mr. Ian has cancelled your flight to Paris, miss,” he said, and if I didn’t know Maldonado for the basically kind man he was, I might have thought there was a trace of malicious amusement in his eyes. “You’ll need to discuss your arrangements with him.” He was the best of servants, well-trained, and no one would have seen the dislike and contempt in his flat black eyes if they weren’t looking for it. Bella had always been the adored darling here. Of course, Ian had never liked either of us, but there was no explanation for Maldonado’s coolness.
I followed him dutifully enough through the cool stone hallways, looking for changes. The paintings still hung on the walls, the furniture was the same, and everything was as well-kept and spotless as ever. For some strange reason I’d been expecting things to have fallen into complete disrepair. Idiot that I was, deep inside, I’d had the belief that Mariposa would fall apart without me.
It was a needed reminder just how unimportant Kitty Whitehead had really been in the scheme of things. A mere blip on the horizon of Mariposa, here and gone in a moment.
The Queen’s Room hadn’t changed. The double bed was covered with a drab, faded tester, the walls muddy, the brown curtains drawn over shutters that blocked out the powerful sun. I glanced back at Maldonado. “It’s exactly the same,” I said.
“Nothing changes at Mariposa.”
“Granda is dying. Things will change.” I kept my voice flippant, as Bella would have.
“Yes.” He turned to leave. “Someone will bring your luggage to your room. When do you expect the rest?”
“It’s all here,” I said, frustrated. “Trust me, there’s a shitload.” Would Bella have said “shitload”? I’d better watch it.
Maldonado frowned but said nothing. “I’ll be back to fetch you when your grandfather awakes from his nap.”
“Don’t you think he’d want to see me right away?” I protested, edgy. After all this time, I needed to see him, to see whether I still loved him or hated him. Or maybe both.
“He’s waited five years, Miss Bella. I think his rest is more important.” And with those gentle words, he was gone.
I looked around, immediately depressed. The room needed a paint job, new furniture, anything to cheer the place. It did have a wall of closets, enough that the clothes I’d brought with me would be swallowed up quite easily. Maybe Ian had put me in here because he knew Bella’s extensive wardrobe—no, Ian would never spare a thought for Bella’s comfort. The only people he’d ever seemed to care about were Granda and his brother.
I went over, shoved the ugly curtains aside, and opened the shutters and the windows. And stood there, taking a deep breath as the light and color of Spain washed over me.
The view was magnificent. Mariposa was perched on the top of a hill, the vineyards and olive groves leading down from it, all heavy with fruit. Past that, the town lay in front of me, the terracotta roofs, the bright white buildings so emblematic of southern Spain, the pueblos blancos. And beyond that, the sea, a beautiful azure blue. I could smell the ocean, taste the salt on my lips. And then I realized I was crying.
