Rebecca Stratton - Castles in Spain

Holly was delighted to have thechance of visiting the Spanish castle where her aunt Nan Delgaro had livedsince her marriage.

Don Jose Delgaro gave her acharming welcome, but it was his son Marcos whose attitude really puzzledHolly. Was he trifling with her until he married the attractive Helena Mendez?

Holly Gilmour had been growingprogressively more excited ever since she boarded the plane at Seville,although she kept telling herself that she was behaving rather like a child whowas being taken on a school treat. But it was so long since she had seen AuntNan, not since Holly was a child at school, and some excitement was surelypermissible in the circumstances.

Her aunt's sudden and quiteunexpected marriage nearly ten years ago had been the cause of their longparting, and the fact that Aunt Nan was now Senora Delgaro and the wife of avery wealthy man was another reason for Holly's rather mixed emotions as sheneared her destination. At one time she had been very close to her mother'seldest sister, and the prospect of seeing her again in such differentsurroundings, combined with seeing a new country for the first time, gave herfeelings of both pleasure and apprehension.

Holly smiled when she thought ofAunt Nan as she remembered her. Plump and homely in hernurse's uniform, or in sensible skirts and twin-sets with discreet pearls ather throat. A very English picture, set and unchangeable so that no onehad even thought of her getting married at all, and certainly not in the ratherromantic circumstances she had.

How Aunt Nan had surprised them allby announcing out of the blue that she was getting married to one of herprivate patients. Only a very short time before she had taken an unprecedentedstep by accepting a post abroad, doubtful if she was doing the right thing andwary of changing her routine. Apparently, however, both the job and the patienthad proved very much to her liking and she had married Don Jose Delgaro withinfour months of arriving in Spain.

Don Jose was a man quite anumber of years older than herself, a widower with one son, and a native ofSpain. It was the latter fact that had come as more of a shock than anythingelse to the people who thought they knew her well, for Nan had seldom botheredabout male company since an unhappy love affair in her youth, and she hadalways had a very British reserve on the subject of foreigners.

Perhaps, it had been suggested,the Spanish sun had gone to her head, mellowed her and made her less reserved.Or perhaps she had simply wanted company and companionship in her later years.Whatever the reason, her aunt sounded very happy and contented with her presentcircumstances, and Holly, being a romantic at heart, was looking forward tomeeting her new uncle by marriage.

Don Jose, Holly thought, must bequite a man to have overcome her aunt's reservations to the point of marriage,and in her letters she sounded quite blithely uninhibited about her husband andher new country, so that there was no doubt that she loved him very deeply.

When Holly had written to saythat she was taking a holiday in Spain and would like to call in and see her,if it was possible, Nan Delgaro had extended an invitation to come and staywith her and her husband for as long as she liked. The invitation must have hadDon Jose's full approval, Holly knew, for although she was very happy in hermarried life, her aunt made no secret of the fact that her husband was thetraditional Spaniard in his attitude towards women.

Don Jose, because of his illness,did little these days to maintain his huge estates, but his son, Marcos, ranthe very profitable ranch they owned in the lush countryside of Andalucia. They bred horses, so her aunt had said,beautiful thoroughbred horses that were well known throughout Spain and beyond.

Somehow, despite her aunt'senthusiasm for his efficiency and her apparent liking for her stepson, Hollyhad some reservations about whether or not she would take to Marcos Delgaro. Hesounded, so Holly had observed to her mother, rather an autocrat, and shefervently hoped she would not come into conflict with him during her stay, forshe was inclined to be outspoken when she saw or heard anything that sheespecially disapproved of.

But it was no matter who else shehad to contend with, it would be worthwhile to see her aunt again, and shewondered if she would see as much change in Aunt Nan, as her aunt was bound tosee in her. Holly had been a rather gawky twelve-year-old when they saw eachother last, and she was now a slim and lovely twenty-two.

The small plane bankedsuddenly and startled her, and she looked down from the small window as theybegan to descend on what looked like an incredibly tiny landing field. The seawas immediately below them, a deep, deep blue and calm as a millpond, butglittering like gold silk in the afternoon sunlight, with ruffled white laceedges where it rolled lazily up on to a golden sanded beach. It lookedeverything Holly had expected and more.

A ribbon of road wound inlandthrough what appeared to be a small village, little white houses set among darkpatches of vineyards and olive groves. There were palms too, she noticed withsome surprise, and they gave the coast an African look which was, to Holly atleast, unexpected and exciting.

Lazuromust surely be the tiniest landing strip in existence, but it was served, asmost of them were, by the ubiquitous Iberian Airways, and Holly wondered howmuch more travelling she had still to do before shefinally reached her destination. The Castillo de la Valerosowas situated some way inland and meant a fairly long drive on not very goodroads, so her aunt had warned her.

Being so near now to herdestination, she felt that familiar, slightly sickening sensation ofapprehensive excitement churning away in her stomach as the plane landed, andrealized for the first time that even her once so familiar aunt was nowvirtually a stranger to her. Aunt Nan was now well into her fifties and wouldperhaps be less inclined to be tolerant towards young women than she had beento a little girl of twelve. That was something she would have to discover whenshe arrived.

It was hot, strikingly hot,after the air-conditioned cabin of the aircraft, and Holly stood for a momentafter she left the plane, trying to accustom herself to the change intemperature. Andalucia, she thought, even smelleddifferent. The short while she had spent changing planes at Seville could havebeen spent anywhere, it had the usual, universal big city smell about it, buthere it was different.

There was nothing much to beseen from the runway but an expanse of rather scorched-looking grass, borderedby those intriguing palm trees. Behind them grew what she knew to be the sourceof that distinctive smell that had struck her as different. Orangetrees, and possibly lemons too, although their scent, so her aunt had informedher, was less sweet than the orange.

Over to her right stood a motleycollection of low white buildings, dazzling in the blazing sunshine andprobably serving as offices and passenger reception. She turned to follow herfellow passengers across the open space, straggling along in the heat to thewaiting smiles of the airfield officials.

As she went Holly registered theappearance of a man standing alone in one of the doorways, and she could nothelp noticing how tall and striking-looking he was as he smoked a cigarette andwatched the arrivals with a certain air of condescension. A native, she thoughtwryly, making no secret of his opinion of tourists.

She lagged behind the othersrather, wondering what arrangements had been made for her transport to theCastillo de la Valeroso. Aunt Nan had assured herthat she would organize everything from this end, and not to worry, but shecould not help but feel a slight twinge of anxiety at the possibility of therebeing no one to meet her.