The South American's Wife

‘Could it have worked even if I hadn’t lost my memory?’ she heard herself ask. ‘Forcing me back, I mean.’

It was a moment or two before Luiz answered. When he did speak his tone was unemotional. ‘I would have found it difficult to put your transgressions aside, I admit. Trust isn’t easily restored.’

‘But you still wouldn’t have been prepared to finish it?’

‘No. Marriage, in my eyes, is for life. The reason why I waited so long to find the woman I could live that life with.’

‘Only she let you down,’ Karen said huskily. ‘I can’t tell you how awful it makes me feel to think I’m capable of that kind of behaviour! I still find it hard to believe I could be capable of it.’

‘There was no mistake,’ he said. ‘Only the one you made in choosing a man who cared so little for you that he left you sprawled in the dust.’

Karen rode the hurt as best as she was able. ‘What’s even harder to explain is why a man like that would have abandoned a good job.’

Luiz gave a short laugh. ‘Fear of what would happen to him when I discovered the affair would have been incentive enough.’

‘In which case,’ she pursued, ‘why would he have taken the risk in the first place?’

The laugh came again. ‘You do yourself an injustice. Few men could remain indifferent to you. You were a virgin when we met only because you’d never known one capable of bringing the fires smouldering within you to life. I could have taken you within minutes of our meeting.’

‘So why didn’t you?’ she challenged.

‘Because I wanted more than just your body.’ His voice had softened in reminiscence. ‘I wanted every part of you.’

All thought suspended, Karen felt heat rising through her from a central core, a spreading weakness in her limbs. Her body moved instinctively against him, pressing closer to his hardness.

‘Stop that!’ he said harshly.

She came back to earth with a jolt as reality raised its ugly head again, her face flaming as she looked up into the sparking dark eyes.

‘It wasn’t intentional,’ she stammered. ‘It just…happened.’

His lip curled. ‘The way it just happened with Fernandas?’

‘How can I know?’ she asked wretchedly. ‘How can I know anything for certain? All I have to go on is what you tell me.’

Luiz stopped moving, the spark grown to a blaze. ‘Are you accusing me of lying to you?’

‘No, of course not. But unless this Lucio Fernandas had money of his own, none of it adds up. The money I had on me almost certainly wouldn’t have been enough to take the two of us very far.’

‘So why else would the two of you have been on the same flight? Why else, for that matter, would you have been on the flight at all?’

Karen shook her head, feeling ever more desperate. ‘I can’t answer that. All I do know is…’

‘Is?’ he prompted as she broke off.

What she’d been about to say was that she simply couldn’t visualise walking out on someone who could make her feel the way he’d made her feel just now, but she wasn’t ready to go down that particular road.

‘Nothing,’ she said. ‘Can we call it a day? I have a dreadful headache.’

Anger gave way to concern. ‘The fault is mine for insisting on continuing the attempt. I’ll arrange for a taxi to be called.’

He was solicitousness itself while they waited for the taxi to arrive. Karen hadn’t lied about the headache; it felt as if a hammer was beating at the space between her eyes. And this was just the beginning. There was worse to come. Facing the rest of the family would tax her resources to the limit.

It was coming up to midnight when they reached the hotel. Luiz had the receptionist on duty procure some painkillers and a glass of water for her before taking the lift to their floor.

‘I trust the headache will soon subside,’ he said at her door. For a moment he seemed to hesitate, his eyes on her pale face, then he said a brief goodnight and moved on to the room next door.

Thankful to be alone at last, Karen shed her clothing and took a shower. The bathroom was lined in mirror glass. She studied herself clinically as she towelled dry. Breasts high, waist slim, hips smoothly rounded, her body was, she knew from past experience, a magnet for male eyes, her face, in normal times, an equal draw. She’d had several short-term romances, but had lost hope of ever meeting any man who could make her want him the way he wanted her.

Until coming here to Rio and meeting Luiz Andrade. The very thought of him sent a ripple down her spine. The mistake she’d probably made then was in confusing lust with love. A mistake she must have realised eventually.

Regardless, she just couldn’t imagine herself turning to another man for solace. Especially one like this Lucio Fernandas. Could she possibly have been so desperate that she’d cultivate a relationship with him simply to secure his help in getting away from Guavada?

She was going round in circles again, she acknowledged wearily, and still getting nowhere. The only chance she had of learning the truth was by returning to Guavada. Not that she had any choice in the matter anyway.

Worn out, she slept like a log, awakening to sunlight and a low-pitched ringing that turned out to be the telephone on the bedside cabinet.

‘How are you feeling?’ Luiz asked.

‘Better,’ she said, referring to the headache not the inner turbulence. ‘What time is it?’

‘Gone ten o’clock. You missed breakfast, but I can have something brought to the room.’

She wasn’t hungry, Karen started to say, breaking off as her stomach growled a protest. ‘Give me ten minutes,’ she said instead.

‘What would you like?’

‘Fruit and coffee will be fine.’

She put the receiver down, wondering how she could speak so calmly and collectedly when her insides were dancing a fandango at the mere sound of his voice. They’d made love the night before her departure, he’d said yesterday. If it was the truth, whatever had gone wrong between them hadn’t affected her physical responses even at that point.

Showered, she donned the white robe and went to open up the balcony doors with the intention of eating outside. She closed them again hastily on feeling the sticky heat, glad of the cool blast from the air-conditioning vents. São Paulo was far less humid than this, Luiz had said; she could be glad of that at least.

A knock at the door heralded the arrival of a waiter with a table trolley containing far more than the items she had requested. Luiz followed the man in, despatching him with what appeared to be a whole handful of banknotes. It was unlikely to be payment on the spot in a place like this, Karen concluded, so it had to be a tip. Generous or not, she had no way of knowing.

He was wearing the suit from last night, this time with a black shirt. Opened a little lower at the neckline than the night before, it revealed a fine gold chain bearing a small medal, the latter nestling amidst a curly mat of hair.

‘I only asked for fruit and coffee,’ she said, pulse rate increasing by the minute. She indicated the cereal, the covered tureen containing who knew what, the rolls and preserves. ‘I can’t eat all that!’

From the look in the dark eyes, her instinctive move to tighten the tie belt of the robe had not gone unnoted, though he made no comment. ‘It’s of no consequence,’ he declared. ‘The choice is there should you change your mind. I’ll take coffee with you.’

Feeling distinctly vulnerable, she poured for them both, leaving his black as he’d requested the previous night. Luiz accepted the cup from her to set it down on the small table at the side of a nearby chair.

‘I reserved seats on the one-thirty shuttle to São Paulo,’ he announced without preamble. ‘You were right last night. Attempting to recreate our beginnings is a waste of time and effort. All we can do is return to Guavada and hope for an eventual cure.’

Karen took a couple of deep swallows from her own cup before answering, needing the stimulant. ‘What do we tell your sister?’

‘She already knows about the amnesia. I spoke to her earlier. She sends her love, and hopes to help in your recovery.’

‘And the others?’

‘Regina is to pass on the news. If you’re concerned for what Beatriz might say, you can rest assured of her silence,’ he added hardily.

‘You think she won’t even have told your brother the real reason I went?’

He hesitated. ‘Perhaps that would be asking a little too much. There should be no secrets between husband and wife.’

Karen busied herself slicing a banana into a dish, adding grapes and ready-cut pieces of melon. ‘As manager of the ranch, I suppose you hold a lot of authority,’ she murmured.

‘I don’t manage the ranch,’ he said. ‘I own it.’

Her head came up. ‘You own it?’

‘Why such surprise?’ he asked on an ironical note. ‘Do I appear a man of small means?’

‘No,’ she acknowledged. ‘Not at all. I just thought…’ She broke off, lifting her shoulders. ‘I’m not sure what I thought. Is your brother a partner?’

‘No.’ The statement was unequivocal. ‘Are you going to eat the fruit, or simply continue poking at it?’

Karen forked up a piece of banana and put it in her mouth, chewing on it resolutely. Fruit here had a far better taste than back home, she had to admit. Except that England was home no longer, of course. Not for her. She might never even see it again!

‘Is it far to the airport?’ she asked, shutting out the hovering despondency.

‘The São Paulo shuttle flies from Aeroporto Santos Dumont in the city centre,’ Luiz returned. The flight itself takes less than an hour, the drive to Guavada considerably longer, but we should be there before dark.’

To meet more people she couldn’t remember. People who had known her a whole three months. How, Karen wondered numbly, was she to deal with it all?

CHAPTER THREE

THE flight was short and uneventful. Luiz had left a Land Rover at the São Paulo airport on his way out, prompting Karen to wonder how she and this Lucio had got there themselves. If in a car, it must still be parked here somewhere.

She didn’t care to broach the subject. Any mention of Lucio Fernandas was like waving a red rag before a bull.

By four o’clock they had left the city suburbs well behind and were driving through a landscape of grassy, tree-dotted plains broken by isolated low ranges. As Luiz had promised, the climate up here, some two thousand feet above sea level, was far pleasanter than Rio’s.

Karen recognised nothing. Not that she’d expected to. The closer they came to the home she had abandoned just a few days ago, the worse she felt. Beatriz may be the only one to know the real reason she had flown, but the others were hardly going to see a supposed disagreement with Luiz as an adequate reason. There was every chance that her partial amnesia would be suspect to them, if not to Luiz himself. It was, she had to acknowledge, a very convenient method of avoiding responsibility for her actions.

‘Are you feeling unwell?’ Luiz asked, shooting her a glance. ‘Do you wish to stop?’

Karen shook her head, pulling herself together. ‘Just nervousness. How are they likely to react?’

He gave a faint smile. ‘If I know my sister, she will throw her arms about you and commiserate. She blames me for driving you away with my domineering manner.’

‘Are you?’ Karen ventured. ‘Domineering, I mean?’

‘No more than I have to be to maintain your respect. We come from different cultures. There were adjustments to be made by each of us. I believed we had achieved a balance.’

‘When I ruined everything by going off with another man,’ Karen said hollowly. ‘I still can’t imagine how I could have done that. To leave…’

‘To leave?’ Luiz prompted as she let the words trail away.

Like the night before, she’d been about to say, To leave a man like you, but it still sounded too much like sycophancy. ‘Without even a word,’ she substituted. ‘The whole thing was shameful!’

It was a moment before Luiz responded, his expression austere again. ‘We must put it behind us.’

‘Can you, though?’ she asked.

‘As I’ve said before, I have no choice.’

There was little comfort in the answer. Karen hadn’t really expected any. It was still difficult to accept that the person she had been—the person she still felt herself to be inside—could have behaved in the manner ascribed to her. As if someone else had taken over her body during the lost months.

‘Tell me about the ranch,’ she said after a moment or two, desperate for something to break the silence between them.

Eyes on the road, Luiz lifted his shoulders in a brief shrug. ‘What can I tell you? Guavada produces beef for the export markets. It was founded in my grandfather’s day, the land area increased over the years to become what it is today.’

‘You own a third share then?’

‘As the eldest son, I inherited outright ownership.’ His lips slanted when she failed to comment. ‘I sense disapproval.’

Karen stole a swift glance at the hard-cut profile. ‘It seems a bit unfair, that’s all. In England all the children would be entitled to a share—male and female.’

‘This is not England,’ came the short response. ‘Raymundo is no pauper. He could found businesses of his own. As to Regina, she bears the name only until she marries.’

‘Is that imminent?’

‘Regina has yet to meet someone capable of retaining her interest for longer than a few weeks.’

‘Well, at eighteen she has plenty of time. After all…’

‘After all, I waited long enough to find the right person,’ he finished for her on a sardonic note as she broke off.

‘What you obviously believed was the right person at the time,’ she said, gathering her resources once more. ‘We can all make mistakes.’

‘Especially when judgement is clouded by a lovely face and body.’

‘I doubt that you’d have allowed your libido to rule you to such an extent.’ Karen kept her tone level with an effort. ‘Any more than I would myself.’

Luiz made no reply. He looked remote again. Karen leaned back against the seat rest and closed her eyes, willing herself to stay in control. Whatever happened from here-on-in, she could only go along with it.

They drove through a sizeable township bright with greenery, turning off the road on to a narrower one some fifteen minutes later, to pass beneath a tall wooden archway with the name carved into its surface.

Fencing stretched to either hand as far as the eye could see, though with no sign of either cattle or habitation. The latter proved to be hidden behind a large clump of trees a half mile or so ahead.

Anticipating something akin to the ranch houses seen in cowboy films, Karen was totally thrown by the lovely colonial-style building that came into view. Fronted by beautifully landscaped lawns, its white walls glinting in the late afternoon sunlight, it had verandas running the whole way round.

The girl who came out from the house as the car drew to a standstill was an Andrade through and through, her waist-length hair darkly luxuriant about her vibrant young face, her figure, clad casually in shorts and sleeveless top, lithe and lovely. As Luiz had predicted, she gave no quarter to the amnesia, descending the steps with open arms and a radiant smile.

‘So wonderful to have you home with us again!’ she declared. ‘But your poor face! How it must pain you!’

‘Not any more,’ Karen assured her. ‘And the marks will soon be gone too.’ She found a smile of her own, overcoming the awkwardness of the moment by sheer willpower. ‘Perhaps my memory will have returned by then.’

The shadow that passed across her sister-in-law’s face was come and gone in an instant. ‘It will! I’m sure of it!’

‘I think refreshment would be a priority at present,’ said Luiz with a questioning look at Karen. ‘A cold drink, perhaps?’

She hesitated. ‘I don’t suppose tea would be available?’

‘Of course.’ His tone was tinged with humour for a moment. ‘You insisted on it. Too much coffee, you said, was bad for the health.’

Mood lifting a little, she tried a lighter tone herself. ‘Not very tactful in a coffee-producing country!’

‘I like tea too,’ claimed Regina. ‘I’ll have some prepared immediately.’ She held out an inviting hand. ‘Come.’

Karen accompanied her indoors to a wide hall. A wrought-iron staircase rose from the centre to branch off left and right to open galleries. Plant-life abounded, spilling from standing pots, from hanging baskets, from the galleries themselves.

The woman who appeared in an archway under the curve of the staircase was in her mid-twenties. Unlike Regina’s, her hair was a dark blonde; her striking features were formed from a totally different mould, her figure voluptuous. There was no welcome in the tawny eyes, just a cold watchfulness.

She spoke in Portuguese, drawing a sharp admonishment from Luiz.

‘We will all of us speak only English when Karen is present. The way we did when she first came to Guavada.’

‘Does that mean I learned to speak Portuguese myself?’ Karen asked, picking up on the nuances.

‘You acquired a fair grasp,’ he confirmed.

She found that difficult to take in. She’d shown little aptitude for compulsory French in school, much less other languages.

On the other hand, she’d never lived in a foreign speaking household before.

‘You expect us all to believe this claim of yours?’ demanded the newcomer, who could only be Beatriz.

‘What you believe is your affair,’ Luiz cut in hardily before Karen could form an answer. ‘What you say in this house is mine. Where is Raymundo?’

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