Pilgrim's Castle by Violet Winspear

Author:Violet Winspear
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2012-03-07T21:08:02+00:00

'Don Juan has not become my guardian for always. He is kind enough to want to help me and I am staying at the castle while Senor Fonesca teaches me some of the things that will help me to start a career.'

'Are you serious?' Rique slowed the car a little as they rounded a-curve of the road and this enabled him to take a look at her. Her hair was whipped by the wind and she looked young and appealing, and unaware of the fact.

'It will be more enjoyable than being a maid,' she said.

'I can think of something even more enjoyable ... you could get married yourself.'

'I should want to fall in love before I took that step.'

'But you are afraid of love,' he teased her.

'I'm no more afraid than any other girl, but I am cautious. Oh, Rique, look at the sea! It looks so beautiful that I can hardly

believe it terrified me.'

They sped along through the sunshine, and Yvain drank in everything with eager eyes, storing up the things of today so that she might have them to remember when the time came for her to leave the island. They passed almond orchards and olive terraces, and upon a hill stood a windmill straight out of the pages of Don Quixote, and the mountains of Spain appeared violet in the distance. 'Is the island like Spain?' she asked.

'Very much so. It's as if someone long ago stole a piece of Andalusia and set it down in the ocean. I am from the south and I could grow very fond of living here.'

'You are much too cosmopolitan,' she smiled. 'Your music and your singing will take you all over the world, and you know it.'

'Perhaps I do,' he admitted.

'I wonder,' she said, 'if we shall both remember this drive in the sunshine? This moment as we pass a white-walled house smothered in purple flowers? This next moment when we see a lone figure on the beach collecting seaweed and piling it into a donkey-cart? I can smell the seaweed and the flowers, and maybe there will come a time when I shall smell them again and just by. closing my eyes I shall remember.' She looked at Rique, studying his Latin profile. 'Will you remember?'

'Memories are too nebulous,' he said. 'I want to hold what lives and breathes.'

'That's because you are a man. I think men remember only the things that hurt them.' She thought of Don Juan, who would never have returned to take his title, or to live in the castle of his grandparents, if he had not suffered that fearful accident. Even yet, her tutor had said, there were times when he was in pain.

'Of what are you thinking?' Rique had brought the car to a standstill and the sound of the sea filled the air, and the hot sun drew the tang of it. She took deep breaths of the sea air and felt safe sitting here; she could not feel the powerful embrace that in the dark had sought to overwhelm her.

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