The Island Villa_The perfect feel good summer read Read online

  ‘And Señor Garcia – what did he have to say about this?’

  Cesca sighed. ‘It wasn’t easy – at first he would not speak to us, but the truth is that we were never actually promised to one another.’

  ‘What?’ asked Antoni, shocked. ‘Of course you were – since you were young!’

  ‘No – Mare told me Señor Garcia had asked Pare but he never actually agreed, he died before he gave the doctor his word, and after that we all just accepted that he had.’

  Antoni looked amazed. ‘And so you told him that you and Ben— Rafael were to wed?’

  She nodded. ‘He said that he was disappointed but that he wouldn’t stand in our way.’

  Antoni shook his head.

  ‘It is the least of your worries though, brother,’ said Cesca.

  ‘What do you mean?’ he asked, looking surprised at that.

  ‘It is your other sister we need to worry about.’

  He blinked. ‘Esperanza? Why?’

  Cesca looked at Benito. How was it possible that he hadn’t heard? ‘She is married.’

  Antoni shot out of his chair. ‘What do you mean, married?’

  ‘She married Don Santiago – a week ago.’

  ‘Don Santiago?’ he said in confusion. Cesca nodded and explained, ‘The stranger – the one from Barcelona, who everyone was worried might be here for other reasons than what he said – to study the flora of the salt flats.’

  He blanched. ‘The one people think may be working for the Holy Office? She married him? How is that even possible?’

  ‘They had the ceremony in Ibiza, one week ago – apparently he paid a priest.’

  It was inconceivable. ‘Why – why the hurry? And why would she marry him, are they in love?’

  Cesca and Benito shared a look. ‘I think he is.’

  ‘And Esperanza?’ Antoni ran an anguished hand through his hair. ‘No, don’t tell me – this is our little sister – she was swayed by the promise of a grand life, the promises of a wealthy husband. No wonder she agreed to get married straight away – she knew I was coming and wanted to make sure I didn’t stop it. Can we get it annulled?’

  ‘I don’t think so. They have been living together as man and wife.’

  Antoni went pale.

  Benito nodded. ‘Riba’s husband, Francisco, told us that Don Santiago confessed that he’s a researcher – paid by the Crown to make observations. He’s here to help modernise the salt trade – but – a man like that…’

  Cesca nodded. ‘Would notice when things didn’t add up.’

  ‘Wasn’t there anything you could have said? She listened to you,’ he said to Cesca.

  Cesca’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Not any more – not after what we did.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  So Cesca told him, about how Esperanza had fallen for Benito, how she had come to her and their mother to tell her that she thought she and Benito should marry. How it would solve all their problems.

  ‘But I – we…’ began Cesca.

  ‘You’d already fallen in love,’ he guessed. ‘I see. And as a result, she did the one thing that could hurt us all.’

  She nodded, tears slipping down her cheeks. ‘Yes.’

  Don Santiago read aloud to his new wife the letter from his sister, Florentina, in Barcelona. ‘She says that she cannot believe that I am married – she thought of me as a committed bachelor.’

  Esperanza took a sip of tea and smiled at him indulgently.

  ‘But she has other news – apparently two Majorcan prisoners were kidnapped by pirates not far from these shores – two brothers by the name of Nuñez – she asks if we knew anything about it?’

  Esperanza choked on her tea as he continued to read from the letter. ‘She says that they are circulating a likeness of one of the brothers – a man with blue eyes, Benito – apparently, the other one turned up dead.’

  He looked at her. ‘You know, I heard something about this a while ago from your friend Riba’s husband, Francisco – I can’t believe this story has got to Barcelona already. It must be the pirate angle, big news,’ he said. ‘Well, Francisco said that the officers even went so far as to question your bother, as captain of the Invictus, to see if he knew anything. Apparently, the ship that was described was similar, can you imagine?’

  Esperanza sat mute, thunderstruck. When he looked at her, his expression turned soft. ‘I wouldn’t worry. From what I heard he made them all look like fools…’

  Don Santiago found the sketches hidden in a dresser drawer by accident, on a cold night when he went looking for a shawl for her while she sat in the garden, staring out to sea, Flea at her heels.

  ‘You look cold. I’ll get you a shawl. Sit, relax,’

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, and he went to the bedroom to fetch it for her, opening the drawers, looking for her wrap, his fingers pausing when they came across something hard. It was a leather-bound case filled with sketches.

  He opened it in surprise and paused, a smile on his face. She’d mentioned her art before, but he’d never seen it. He flipped through the pages. There were sketches of Flea, her old house, ordinary things – then suddenly he stopped, and frowned. Sketch after sketch showed the same face over and over again. There were dozens of the man. Of her former betrothed, Rafael. Don Santiago’s fist clenched when he saw that one of them was dated recently – she had drawn it since she was married to him! At the bottom of each sketch along with the date were the initials B.N. The truth hit him like a thunderbolt. She had been in love with him.

  He shoved the sketches back inside the drawer, then left the house without a word.

  As he walked through the night he thought back to when he’d first fallen in love with Esperanza, when they’d spoken so passionately about their mutual love for art and books. He remembered how Riba had remarked upon the oddly changed appearance of her cousin. And that Rafael had been brought here to recover from an illness. For the first time, he stopped to think about how strange that was.

  Why was he brought here when there were far more doctors in Ibiza? Why make a journey like that when you were ill, close to death, why rely on the care of a young nurse? He hadn’t thought to question it before, but with the suspicions racing through his mind, and the rumours he had heard about a ship that looked a lot like the Invictus being part of the capture – the ship captained by Esperanza’s brother – he couldn’t help but wonder.

  He reread the letter from his sister. The names of the men who had fled. The Nuñez brothers. Paulo and Benito Nuñez… Paulo had turned up dead.

  When he got home, Esperanza was asleep. He slowly opened the dresser to look through his wife’s sketchbooks again, at the small B.N. on each of the drawings she’d made of him. Could it be?

  Esperanza woke up to find her sketches lined up all over the bedroom floor, a dozen or more images of Benito’s face staring back at her. She sat up fast, her heart jackhammering in her chest.

  ‘Do you love him?’

  She closed her eyes.

  He sucked in a deep breath. She couldn’t deny it. ‘Say it!’

  She nodded her head slightly, and he let out a deep cry.

  ‘Does he love you?’

  She shook her head.

  He sighed, then slumped against the wall. ‘So that’s why you married me – because he didn’t want you?’ Realisation was hitting him hard.

  She bit her lip. ‘It’s not the only reason.’

  His face twisted at that. ‘Don’t pretend you ached for me.’

  ‘I did – I do.’

  ‘Not like for him though,’ he said, and felt like he’d been punched when she nodded.

  ‘He’s not your cousin, is he?’

  She looked up in sudden fear. ‘Of course he is.’

  His lips went thin. ‘Riba said it that night at dinner at their house… she mentioned his eyes.’

  He unfolded a poster. ‘You know they are circulating this around all the Balearics – it’s a likeness of a man who looks
just like him. I went out this morning to go and get one from the docks. It says it here. Vivid blue eyes. Dark hair. Benito Nuñez. In fact they say that he was taken by a ship that looked just like your brother’s… I think it must have been exactly like his ship, come to think of it.’

  Esperanza blanched. ‘That’s not true.’

  ‘Oh, but I think it is. I think you’ve been lying to me this whole time. You all have, and I’m not taking it any more.’

  There was something about the way he said that. Something final. Something that chilled her blood. ‘What did you do?’ she asked.

  He shrugged. ‘What was right.’

  Esperanza got up. He looked at her coldly. ‘Where do you think you’re going?’

  She sucked in a breath. ‘Away – you’re not thinking calmly.’

  His eyes flashed fire. ‘Running off to warn your lover, is that it? I don’t think so,’ he said, teeth bared as he shoved her painfully back onto the bed.

  ‘No, I think you will stay here until the letter has been delivered to the governor – until he comes here and arrests your family for what they’ve done…’

  ‘No!’ she cried, running to the door. He grabbed her arm and jerked her back so that she fell over, but she got up again, fighting and pulling at him to try to get out. He slapped her hard across the face and she went flying, hitting her head against the wall. She gasped, sliding down, doubling over in pain.

  ‘I don’t want to hurt you,’ he said, ‘so I suggest you stop fighting me.’

  Esperanza tried to breathe, but all she saw was stars. She sank to the floor, where she spied the pistol he always kept beneath the bed. She made to grab for it but he saw what she was doing and grabbed her by the ankle. Her hands scrabbled, and she kicked out and kept reaching for the pistol until she had it in her hands at last.

  ‘You won’t shoot me,’ he said.

  ‘You’re threatening my family, Santiago, you don’t know what I’d do.’

  ‘I thought you said that you didn’t care about them.’

  ‘Yes, well, I lied.’

  There was the sound of loud barking. Flea had heard her screams and was trying to get in. Don Santiago opened the door and the dog went straight for his leg. Don Santiago roared in pain and threw Flea against the wall and he yelped. Esperanza flew at him, and he tried to fight her off, but then suddenly the pistol went off with a deafening bang.

  Esperanza fell backwards with a thud, pain bludgeoning her skull. Distantly as if from a tunnel she heard the sound of barking, and there was a heavy weight on her chest. She couldn’t breathe and blood like wine was oozing all around her. Don Santiago was on top of her, his hazel eyes unseeing. She gasped.

  He was dead, killed by his own pistol.

  She struggled to get him off of her. He was heavy, cumbersome, but at last she rolled his body off and sat up feeling her head. Flea rushed over to help. Tears coursed down her face, but as she sat up, gasping for breath, she had one thought in her mind, and one only – she had to get back that letter.

  Cesca opened the door in shock. Esperanza was standing outside, her hair dishevelled, a wild look in her eyes, her arms covered in blood.

  ‘’Spranza! What happened?’

  She blinked, trying and failing to find the words as she stared into her sister’s eyes.

  ‘Come inside, take a seat.’

  Esperanza nodded and sat down shakily at the table. ‘There was an accident.’

  ‘Are you hurt?’ It was Antoni’s voice. He came in from the bedroom. It was the first time they’d seen each other since he came back. Esperanza’s eyes filled, seeing him. ‘Santiago was.’

  Cesca blinked, then took a seat next to her, picking up her sister’s hand. ‘What happened?’

  Esperanza stared at her. ‘I killed him.’

  They all started to speak at once. Esperanza shook her head. They didn’t understand. ‘There’s no time, we have to stop it.’

  ‘Stop what?’ asked Benito.

  ‘The letter.’

  ‘The letter?’

  She explained about the letter Don Santiago had written to the governor. How he knew everything, how he’d worked it all out about what they’d done. ‘We have to get it back.’

  Antoni tried to stop her, but she shook her head. She’d run to the port if she had to – perhaps there was time, maybe she could say that Don Santiago had asked her to recall the letter? Or that he’d sent the wrong one… yes, that’s what she’d do.

  Antoni stood in front of the door, blocking her exit. ‘You can’t do that.’

  She looked at him, her eyes raw. ‘I have to try, I have to get them to give it back.’

  He didn’t let her go, but his face was set.

  ‘It’s too late.’

  ‘No, it’s not,’ she protested.’ I can convince them, they will give it back. If not I’ll steal it, rip it up… they can’t read it then and I’ll deal with whatever happens to me.’

  Antoni shook his head. ‘It’s too late – that’s what I’m trying to tell you. The mail ship went this morning. I’m sorry.’

  Her knees buckled and she sank to the floor. At last the sobs came. ‘It’s my fault,’ she said gasping through her tears.

  ‘It’s not your fault,’ said Cesca, bringing her a cup of tea for the shock. ‘We’ll face it together, we can get out of this…’

  They all shared the same defeated glance. No one was sure how.

  The storm rolled in, as if it knew what was coming. Formentera was cut off from Ibiza for the better part of a week. There would be no one coming to the island till it passed, and no chance of any mail coming through either, or investigators.

  They sat uneasy, not able to leave until it cleared. ‘Where can we go, France?’ asked Cesca.

  Benito shook his head. ‘Not now. It’s one of the first places they will look – they will look at our last address in Bayonne.’

  ‘There’s a friend from Genoa who might be able to take us to safety,’ said Antoni.

  Esperanza sat numbly, Flea in her lap, not saying a word. She didn’t feel as if she deserved to think of her own freedom – not after what she’d done to cost everyone theirs.

  She couldn’t help thinking about the greater consequences of the letter. What about the rest of the island? Their neighbours – how long before the officials started looking more closely at them? How long before they realised that they didn’t belong here either?

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Formentera, 1718

  When the storm finally cleared, they made their plans to leave and packed up all they could carry. They would row first to Ibiza, then catch a ship bound to Genoa. That was the plan.

  ‘We will need to be fast. It won’t be long before they will start asking questions about Don Santiago’s death,’ said Antoni.

  They had called Señor Garcia, explaining to him what had happened with the accident, but it didn’t look good. Esperanza could hang if they found her, especially after they read that letter. Who would think that it was really an accident?

  They were getting ready to leave when the strangers arrived, a band of them walking straight for their finca.

  Cesca ran inside and bolted the door.

  ‘It’s them – they have come already,’ she cried. Esperanza came forward to stare out of the window, then closed her eyes in panic, her hand reaching out to grasp her sister’s.

  Antoni and Benito rushed into the kitchen, and Antoni threw a pistol to him.

  ‘We die fighting,’ he said. They nodded as the men on the other side began to pound the door.

  Esperanza clutched her sister’s hand tighter. Whatever their differences, they were in this together now. They’d face it like a family.

  Antoni opened the door.

  ‘Can I help you?’

  ‘Yes, good day, buno tarda, my name is Salvador de Rimbaud. I came because my father received this letter written by Don Santiago.’

  Esperanza felt herself go weak as the man took out the letter w
ritten in her husband’s hand.

  He put it on the table, open. ‘I thought, under the circumstances, it was best to come here. I’ve since heard that Don Santiago passed away from a fever, correct?’

  Careful not to let the man see, they all shared looks of surprise. Wherever had the man got that idea?

  ‘Yes, I’m sorry for your loss – I saw the doctor, Señor Garcia earlier, who confirmed it,’ he went on. ‘Perhaps it explains the contents of this letter?’

  They had never expected or imagined that the doctor would lie for them.

  ‘Which, as you can imagine, is also a relief. We wouldn’t want this to have got into the wrong hands – I’m sure you can understand.’

  Esperanza blinked in shock.

  ‘Pardon?’

  Salvador de Rimbaud continued. ‘Not many people are aware of this but my grandfather was on that first boat that came here, half a century ago now, when they left Majorca to come to live on this island. He settled in Ibiza instead and later rose to the rank of governor. You see,’ he said, touching the letter, ‘this is all our secret to keep. I came in person because I must stress that this cannot go any further – we cannot let anyone know about us. I hope you can agree.’

  Chapter Fifty

  Formentera, present day

  Sage arrived when the sun was high in the sky and the air was that hazy, still blue that transformed the ocean into a clear turquoise pool. She looked thinner, her face pale and her hair lank, though her eyes brightened when she saw me. It caused me a pang to see the strain on her young face, the toll it had taken on her to lose her father and to try somehow to put her life back together again. I was glad though that she was here now, and I hoped that the break would chase away some of those shadows beneath her eyes.

  ‘Mum, you’ve got a tan!’ she said in surprise.

  I laughed. ‘There’s a first time for everything. You know, it feels like a year of firsts for me.’

  ‘I know what you mean,’ she said.