His demeanour as her fellow guest at Tony Standish's shooting lodge at
Auchinleven, where he arrived about the middle of August, piqued and
perplexed Myra. Not only did Don Carlos keep his promise to refrain
from making love to her, but he seemed to avoid her as much as
possible, and was only formally polite when they happened to be thrown
together.
Yet he made love to practically all the other ladies of the party, and
obviously set the hearts of several of the younger ones fluttering.
Myra tried to persuade herself she was thankful to be relieved of his
ardent attentions, but at heart she was annoyed to find herself ignored.
"I suppose he is proving that he was only amusing himself and that his
fervent love-making was mere pretence," reflected Myra. "He is making
my complaint about him seem absurd. Bother the man! I have half a
mind to try to make him fall in love with me in earnest, and then take
the conceit out of him by telling him I have only been amusing myself
at his expense."
What added to her inward vexation was the fact that Don Carlos appeared
to have won the good opinion of all the other men of the party, and had
completely ingratiated himself with Tony Standish, who constantly
talked about him with enthusiasm and spent much time in his company.
"Have you offended Don Carlos in some way, Myra?" Lady Fermanagh
inquired one night. "I notice he seems to avoid you as much as
possible, and yet he and Tony have become great friends."
"I think Don Carlos is the most exasperating man in the world, aunt,
and it is most annoying that Tony should make such a fuss of him after
what happened," responded Myra, half-petulantly. "It would serve Tony
right if I threw him over. It is exasperating that he is so sure of me
that he isn't a bit jealous of Don Carlos, and probably thinks I made a
fuss about nothing. Why didn't he half-kill the conceited Spaniard for
daring to make love to me? I should have loved him if he had done
that--yes, even if he got the worst of it, I should have loved him for
trying to give Don Carlos a hiding."
"Don't be absurd, my dear Myra!" protested Lady Fermanagh, laughingly.
"I told you that the love-making of men like Don Carlos should not be
taken seriously, and it was foolish of you to take offence."
"And now, I suppose, he is laughing up his sleeve at me for having
taken him seriously, and thinks he is punishing me by ignoring me for
being such a little prude!" said Myra. "Perhaps I did make rather a
fool of myself, but I intend to get even with him. Yes, I'll get even
with the conceited creature! Do you know what I have decided to do,
aunt? I am going to make love to Don Carlos and make him fall in love
with me in earnest, just to have the satisfaction of turning him down
afterwards and making him feel, and look, a fool."
"For goodness sake don't try to do anything of the sort, Myra,"
counselled Lady Fermanagh. "Don Carlos is very much a man of the
world, and you would be playing with fire. I should judge that he
knows women better than most men. And in any case, my dear, it isn't
safe to trifle with a Spaniard."
"And it isn't safe to trifle with a Rostrevor Don Carlos de Ruiz will
find to his cost," retorted Myra, with a sudden laugh. "My mind is
made up, and I shall start on my conquest to-night."
She took special pains over her toilette that evening, and her maid
found her unusually exacting. She chose a very decollété evening frock
of jade green shot with blue that matched the blue of her eyes but
contrasted beautifully with her red-gold hair, and with it she wore a
necklace of emeralds and turquoises.
"By Jove! Myra, dear, you are looking lovelier than ever to-night!"
exclaimed Tony Standish, admiringly and adoringly, when she went down
into the great hall of Auchinleven Lodge before dinner. "You look
simply wonderful, darling. Wonderful!"
"Thank you for these few kind words, good sir," Myra answered
smilingly, in bantering tones, and dropped a mock curtsey. "I hope Don
Carlos will be equally complimentary. You see, Tony, I am afraid he is
rather vexed with me for complaining to you about him and snubbing him,
so I have decided to let him fall in love with me again and make you
furiously jealous."
"Righto!" laughed Tony. "But don't overdo it, old thing, or I may do a
bit of the Othello business, don't you know. I believe I could be as
fiercely passionate as any Spaniard if I tried."
"Why not try?" responded Myra lightly. "Incidentally, I fancy Othello
was a Moor, and not a Spaniard."
"Well, the Moors had something to do with Spain, so it amounts to the
same thing. Talking of Spain, Myra, reminds me that Don Carlos has
consented to be one of my yachting party for our Mediterranean trip in
the winter, and has invited all of us to spend a week or so with him at
his place, El Castillo de Ruiz, somewhere in the Sierra Morena."
"Really! That will give me plenty of time to complete my conquest,"
commented Myra, her blue eyes sparkling mischievously. "I suppose it
isn't good form to make a fool of one's host, but Don Carlos will
deserve anything he may get."
"I say, darling, I hope you're not in earnest," Tony remarked. "You
seem to be in a dangerous mood to-night, and you look adorably
lovely--yes, simply scrumptious! You would fascinate any man, my dear,
and I am sure even Don Carlos will be clay in your hands. Don't be too
hard on him, Myra. He's an awfully good chap, and I feel sure he
didn't mean any harm."
"To-night, my dear Tony, I am a 'vamp,'" laughed Myra. "Just look at
Aunt Clarissa over there flirting with Don Carlos, who is probably
telling her she is the most accomplished and beautiful woman in the
world. Watch me go and cut her out!"
Conscious that she was looking her best (a feeling that gives any woman
a sense of power), Myra strolled across the hall to where Don Carlos
was chatting to Lady Fermanagh.
"Forgive me if I am interrupting," she said sweetly, smiling into the
dark eyes of the Spaniard. "I want to tell you I am so glad to hear
from Tony that you are coming with us on the yachting cruise this
winter, and I want to thank you for your invitation to El Castillo de
Ruiz. I was so afraid you had not forgiven me for being so rude to
you, and dreaded lest you had decided to have nothing further to do
with such an ungracious person as Myra Rostrevor."
"Sweet lady, I should dismiss such a thought as treason, not to say
blasphemy," Don Carlos responded gallantly. "Even when you are
ungracious, if ever, you are always the most adorable and beautiful
woman in the world."
Myra trilled out a laugh, her blue eyes still smiling at him.
"Thank you, señor, for these few kind words," she said. "I expect you
have been saying something of the same sort to my aunt?"
"Yes, Myra, Don Carlos has been telling me that mine is the type of
beauty he has always most admired, and that I seem to have discovered
not only the secret of perpetual youth, but the art of growing old
gracefully," Lady Fermanagh told her smilingly. "I begin to suspect
him of being Irish instead of Spanish--for how can one grow old with
perpetual youth, I ask you? Still, I confess I like his blarney, and I
think it a pity that most Englishmen seem to have lost the knack of
paying a compliment, and saying flattering things as if they meant
them."
"Dear lady, you do both me and yourself an injustice," exclaimed Don
Carlos, his tone very grave but his dark eyes dancing. "The greatest
of courtiers, even if he had kissed your famous Blarney Stone, would
surely be at a loss for words which would even do justice to your
charm, let alone flattering you."
Lady Fermanagh wagged a finger at him.
"My Spanish is getting rusty, señor," she said, "but I think I remember
one of the proverbs of your country: '_Haceos miel y comeras han
moscas_', which means, 'Make yourself honey and the flies will eat
you.' Am I right?"
"Always you are right, dear lady," responded Don Carlos smilingly; "but
you leave me undetermined as to whether I am your fly or your honey.
Incidentally, we have another proverb, '_En casa del moro no hables
algaravia._' Can your ladyship translate that?"
"Yes, señor," Lady Fermanagh answered, after a moment of thought. "It
means, '_Do not speak Arabic in the house of a Moor_,' but I don't know
what the application is where we are concerned, unless you are
suggesting I have misinterpreted your perfect English, or else you are
subtly criticising my imperfect Spanish. You are too deep for me, Don
Carlos, and I will leave Myra to try and fathom you. Beware of him,
Myra!" she added smilingly, as she moved away.
"I assure you I am absolutely sincere when I tell you, sweet lady, that
I am more than charmed to know that you are coming to Spain as my
guest, and I promise you I shall do everything that lies in my power to
make your visit interesting," said Don Carlos to Myra. "But let me
warn you that if El Diablo Cojuelo learns that the most beautiful,
adorable, and wholly desirable girl in the world is going to visit El
Castillo de Ruiz, he will assuredly make an attempt to kidnap you."
"Is the most beautiful, adorable, and wholly desirable girl in the
world going to be one of the party?" inquired Myra, assuming an
innocent expression. "How interesting and exciting! Who is she? A
film star?"
"She is _you_, señorita," Don Carlos responded, "and let me remind you
that El Diablo Cojuelo almost makes a hobby of kidnapping beautiful
women. So you will be in danger all the time you are in Spain."
"I refuse to be dismayed--and I don't believe a word of it!" responded
Myra, with a silvery laugh. "I don't believe you keep a pet brigand
and outlaw on your estate, but even if you do, the prospect of being
kidnapped does not dismay me. The risk, if any, will add a spice of
adventure to the visit. But I can't believe you would let any brigand
steal me from your castle, Don Carlos, although you have threatened to
steal me yourself. Would you?"
"I promise you that El Diablo Cojuelo shall not steal you away from me
even if he captures you, señorita," Don Carlos replied. "I am glad you
are undismayed, and again I assure you I am honoured and flattered that
you have accepted my invitation to----"
"I regarded it more as a challenge than an invitation," interposed Myra.
"Really! Then I am more than honoured by your acceptance of the
challenge," resumed Don Carlos, his face crinkling into a smile. "I
wonder why you are condescending to be so gracious to me to-night,
Myra. Do I understand I am forgiven?"
"Perhaps I have really nothing to forgive, Carlos, and it was folly on
my part to take offence," Myra answered, with an alluring glance.
"Incidentally, it is nice of you to keep your promise not to make love
to me, but--but----"
She broke off as if at a loss. For once in a way Myra Rostrevor was
deliberately playing the part of coquette, and she saw Don Carlos's
eyes flame suddenly with ardour and expectation.
"You mean that you no longer hold me to my promise, Myra?" he asked,
scarcely above a whisper.
"No, I--I don't mean that, Carlos," murmured Myra, with eyes downcast;
"but--but you have only been coldly polite to me ever since you arrived
here, yet I have seen you making love to other girls. If you are in
love with me, and were not merely pretending----"
"I was not pretending, Myra," interrupted Don Carlos. "I love you with
every fibre of my being. It was only pretence where the other women
are--and were--concerned. I confess I tried to make you feel jealous,
and I trust I succeeded?"
"I am not going to tell you," said Myra, raising her eyelids to flash
another alluring and provocative glance at him. "Unless there is love,
there can hardly be jealousy. If I were desperately in love with a man
who did not care for me, or pretended he did not, I should not have the
heart to try to make any other man fall in love with me. How can you
expect me to believe you are really in love with me, Carlos, when I see
you constantly making love to other women?"
"Darling, give me but a chance to prove my love," Don Carlos breathed;
then quick-wittedly began to talk about salmon fishing as two or three
other guests approached.
Myra did not give him another opportunity to talk to her alone during
the rest of the evening, but she contrived to tantalise and puzzle him
further, nevertheless. She pleaded tiredness when he asked her to
dance after dinner, but danced with other men, and she was unusually
affectionate in her manner towards Tony when she thought Don Carlos was
watching her, which was often.
"I say, Myra, darlinest, you're looking lovelier and more adorable than
ever, and I feel bewitched and enraptured," Tony whispered to her as
she took his arm and gave it an affectionate little squeeze after a
dance.
"I am trying to make up for being horrid about Don Carlos, Tony dear,"
explained Myra. "Now I have come to my senses, I am going to let the
delightful man make love to me as much as he likes, and play him at his
own game... Let's sit the next dance out in the conservatory, Tony."
She had seen Don Carlos wander into the conservatory, and the imp of
mischief that possessed her was prompting her to find new ways of
teasing and testing him. The conservatory was in semi-darkness, but as
Myra entered with Tony she located Don Carlos, for he happened to
strike a match at that moment to light a cigarette, before seating
himself in a dark corner.
"Let's find a dark corner, Tony," said Myra, and guided her fiancé
close to where Don Carlos was sitting--close enough to be sure that the
Spaniard would be able to overhear anything she said. "The man who
loves me doesn't seem to realise that I want to be kissed," she
resumed. "You may kiss me, Tony."
"Darling!" exclaimed the delighted Tony, taking her in his arms and
kissing her. "I have been longing to kiss you all evening, sweetheart,
but thought you might object even if I got a chance."
"You silly men don't seem to understand that a girl isn't necessarily
in earnest if she says she doesn't want to be kissed, or pretends she
doesn't want to be made love to," responded Myra, with a little
gurgling laugh. "Kiss me again, Tony, but this time kiss me in the way
I should love to be kissed by the man who loves me, and not just like a
cold-blooded Englishman."
Tony kissed her again, straining her closer, but Myra broke from him as
if in sudden alarm.
"There's someone in the corner, Tony," she whispered. "I saw the glow
of a cigarette-end. Let's slip out quickly. I hope they didn't see us
or hear us, and that they won't rag us later on."
Little guessing that Myra had intended part of what she said should be
overheard, Tony, a little bewildered, allowed himself to be rushed out
of the conservatory, protesting in an undertone that it didn't matter
about being heard or seen, as they were engaged.
For the rest of the evening Myra continued to avoid Don Carlos as much
as possible, but she smiled at him in tantalisingly alluring fashion
every time their eyes met, wondering as she did so what was in his mind
and what effect her coquetry had had upon him. And she went to bed
feeling that she had, at least, done something towards justifying her
boast that she would make Don Carlos fall in love with her in earnest.
At dead of night she woke suddenly, with the feeling strong upon her
that someone, or something, had touched her, but when she sat up in bed
and switched on the lights she could see nothing to give her any cause
for alarm. Deciding she must have been dreaming, Myra was about to
switch off the lights and compose herself to sleep again, when her eyes
fell on a folded sheet of notepaper on her pillow. With a sudden
intake of breath, she picked up the note, unfolded it, and read:
"_The man who loves you will kiss you in the way you would love to be
kissed as soon as he is relieved of his promise. Relieve him of his
promise, and leave the door of your bedroom unlocked again to-morrow
night._"
Myra read the note again and again, her mind in something of a tumult,
her heart throbbing fast. She knew it must have been written by Don
Carlos, and she was dismayed by the thought that he had been in her
room.
"There seems to be no limit to the man's daring and impudence," she
reflected, and was annoyed to find that she was blushing. "What cheek
to suggest that I should relieve him of his promise not to make love to
me--and leave my bedroom door unlocked! What infernal, stupendous,
insulting cheek! ... Yet I suppose he accepted what I said to Tony as
an invitation and a challenge--as I intended. Heavens! if anyone
should have seen him leaving my room at this time of the morning, I
shouldn't have a rag of reputation left. I should be hopelessly
compromised, and it wouldn't be much use producing this letter in the
hope of clearing myself. Still, I don't suppose anyone else was
prowling about at this time of the night or morning... I wonder if he
touched me or kissed me? I wonder if he is really in love with me? I
wonder..."
Myra did quite a lot of wondering before she eventually drifted into
slumber again, and when she was reawakened by her maid bringing her
morning tea, it was to find that she had been sleeping with Don
Carlos's note clasped against her breast.
"I suppose the wisest and safest course will be to make no reference
whatever to the letter, and to pretend I don't know what he is talking
about if Don Carlos has the cheek to refer to it," Myra soliloquised,
as she dressed. "After all, I deliberately provoked him, and I should
have been disappointed if he had taken no notice. I shall keep the
letter and challenge him about it later. Meanwhile I shall hold him to
his promise not to make love to me, yet do my utmost to make him break
his word. I wonder what will happen if I do make him fall in love with
me in earnest. Life is becoming quite an adventure!"
So she made no reference to the letter when by chance she found herself
alone with Don Carlos for a time during the course of the afternoon,
but continued to exert herself to be "nice" to him. And when Myra
Rostrevor set herself out to fascinate, she was an exceedingly alluring
and seductive creature. Her sweetness, graciousness, and the inviting
and enticing glances of her blue eyes obviously had a strong effect on
Don Carlos, and fired his ardour.
"Myra, why are you torturing and tantalising me in this fashion?" he
burst out suddenly. "Confess that you love me, darling, and release me
from my promise not to make love to you."
"Why, you dear, conceited man, don't you understand it is only because
you pledged your word not to make love to me that I am being nice to
you?" Myra replied, with her bewitching smile. "If you break your
promise, I shall immediately freeze up again and keep you at a
distance."
"You are cruel, señorita," commented Don Carlos, with a shrug and a
sigh. "You are the most tantalising, puzzling and exasperating girl I
have ever met, as well as the loveliest and the most adorable."
"Really!" laughed Myra. "I wonder you consort with such an annoying
person!"
"Consort? Consort? I like that word, Myra," he responded. "I intend
to be your consort for the rest of my life, and you shall be my queen
and the empress of my heart."
"What a horrible threat!" exclaimed Myra. "And I am afraid,
incidentally, it is camouflaged love-making. You must keep to the
spirit as well as the letter of your promise, Don Carlos, if you wish
to continue on our present footing."
"I am but human, sweet lady, and you are torturing me," said Don
Carlos. "I am like unto a man dying of thirst, and you hold a cup of
water to my lips, only to snatch it away when I try to drink. But I
promise you I shall yet drink my fill from your fountain of love."
"Another dreadful threat--and aren't your metaphors getting mixed
again?"
"Myra, darling, I love--
"Remember your promise!" interrupted Myra. "If, as you say, I torture
you so horribly, perhaps you would prefer me to avoid you?"
"No, no, a thousand times, no!" Don Carlos cried. "I was desolated
when you refused to dance with me last night, and you put me to the
torture later in the conservatory. I wanted to murder the other man,
the one in particular on whom you bestowed your favours."
"Dear me! What a bloodthirsty creature! Incidentally, are you not
still attempting to make love indirectly? I suppose making love has
become a sort of second nature, and you do not know you are breaking
your promise?"
"I stand rebuked, sweet lady, and crave your pardon," said Don Carlos.
"Never yet have I consciously broken a promise. And let me remind you
that I have made you several promises."
"Several?" repeated Myra, raising her eyebrows inquiringly.
"Yes, you may remember that the first time we danced together I
promised to awaken your heart and fire it with the passion which now
consumes me," replied Don Carlos quietly. "I have promised several
times since to make you my own, to make you surrender to the call of
love and confess yourself conquered."
"Those, I presume, were promises made to yourself," Myra retorted
lightly. "We all promise ourselves things, and hope for things, we
know at heart we shall never get."
"I have told you it was prophesied that I should get my heart's desire,
and also that I have won the reputation of getting anything on which I
set my heart."
"As far as I am concerned, you have won the reputation of being the
most conceited and audacious man in Europe," commented Myra, turning
away from him with a careless laugh.