Catalina sought tearful refuge with Maggie, who explained the situation as best she could.

‘It’s not his fault,’ Catalina said passionately.

‘No, it isn’t José’s fault,’ Maggie agreed. ‘But this goes very deep with Sebastian, so don’t hope for him to change his mind.’

‘I thought you would be on my side,’ Catalina said accusingly.

‘I might be if you were a little more mature, and if I thought your love for José was deep and true, instead of being just a reaction to your engagement to Sebastian. Now you’re free to make a choice, don’t rush to choose the first man you see.’

She told Sebastian frankly that she was going to see José.

‘Acting as go-between?’ he asked wryly.

‘Catalina is no nineteenth-century miss, to be locked in her room until she obeys. If I keep the lines of communication open, you’re less likely to have a full-scale rebellion on your hands. I’m not going to help them elope-just trying to keep the situation under control. But I won’t do it in secret.’

‘Thank you. I appreciate that.’

Her visit to José left her more uncertain than ever. There was no doubt of his true feelings, but he struck her as an infatuated boy rather than a serious man. Maggie explained about Sebastian’s friendship with Felipe Mayorez, delivered loving messages from Catalina, advised José to be very patient, and promised to work on Sebastian if possible.

Returning home, she went to see him to put in a good word for José, and found him frowning over a letter, willing to give her only half of his attention.

‘What’s the matter? Who is that from?’

‘From Felipe Mayorez,’ he said with a sigh. ‘He wants me to take you to visit him.’ He saw her horrified look and added, ‘Naturally he was invited to the wedding, as a matter of courtesy, but he couldn’t attend.’

‘What state is he in, these days?’ Maggie asked awkwardly.

‘Almost like a vegetable. He lives in a wheelchair. He has an attendant, Carlos, who feeds him and cares for his every need. Sometimes he can mumble a few words; some days he can speak clearly for a short time.’

‘Oh, God!’ she whispered. She began to walk around the room, seeking some release from tension. ‘I can’t see him. It’s too risky. There were photographs in the press at the time-’

‘Of you?’

‘No-I don’t think so-but suppose there was a picture I didn’t know about-and he saw it-and recognises me? Think how it would upset him.’

‘He was in a coma for months. He never saw anything in the papers. Besides, I read everything the press ever printed, and I never saw your picture. Otherwise I’d have known you from the start.’ He looked at her. ‘It’s all right. I have to go but I’ll make some excuse for you.’

‘What excuse can you make for such a grave discourtesy?’

‘I’ll think of something. I won’t ask you to do this.’

‘You must,’ she said calmly. ‘It’s expected.’ She saw him looking at her and added, ‘You’re a public man. You can’t afford not to do what is expected.’

In a land where ceremony still counted, Sebastian had been dreading having to explain his wife’s absence on a visit of form. He was grateful to Maggie for making it easy, yet something in her ready compliance troubled him. After her first protest, she had seemed to shrug mentally and decide that it didn’t matter, because nothing really mattered to her. The old Maggie, who fought him at every turn, seemed to have vanished, and he would have given anything to have her back.

The thought struck him again when he saw her ready for the visit. She was attired in a conventional dress of sober hue, the very picture of a respectable Spanish matron. But the sight brought him no pleasure. She had said appearances must be preserved, and he knew that sometimes people clung to appearances to cover an emptiness within.

He wasn’t usually sensitive to people’s moods, but he could sense Maggie’s despair and confusion. She was lost in a desert, functioning automatically as she waited for something to happen that would show her the way out. And much as he longed to, he knew he couldn’t help her. It was he who had raised her demons to howl at her, but he had no power to calm them again, and he wanted to bang his head against the wall. He would have done so if that would have helped her.

The Casa Mayorez was in the heart of Granada, near the foot of the great hill on which stood the Alhambra Palace. In his own way, Felipe Mayorez was a prince, and he had lived as one until the day four years ago when he had been robbed and attacked. Now he existed unheeding, amidst his magnificent possessions.

Carlos, his carer, came to meet them. He was an amiable young man, devoted to his employer-able to read his every mood, even when the words were blurred. But today the news was good.

‘He is much brighter than usual,’ he told them. ‘And he can speak fairly clearly. It will make him so happy that you have come.’

He led the way to the conservatory where Felipe Mayorez lay in a wheelchair that was half a bed. A heavy rug was laid over his wasted knees, and his head rested on pillows. With a great effort he managed to turn it as his visitors approached.

‘Welcome to my house,’ he said slowly. ‘Welcome, my old friend. And to your wife-a very special welcome.’

Sebastian leaned down and kissed the old man with complete naturalness. Maggie was afraid they would see her trembling, but she forced herself to be calm as her husband introduced her. Felipe Mayorez smiled at her, not knowing that she had been the wife of the man who’d destroyed him.

She made the proper reply, and thanked him for his wedding present, a huge, gold-decorated dinner service of the finest porcelain.

‘That was my gift to your house,’ Felipe said. ‘But I have another gift, only for you. On that table.’

Sebastian handed her a small packet. Inside was a pair of heavy gold earrings.

‘They’re beautiful,’ she gasped. ‘But I can’t take them. They look like valuable antiques.’

‘They are,’ Sebastian told her. ‘They belonged to his wife.’

‘His wife,’ she said faintly.

‘He gives them to you as a great compliment.’

She drew a sharp breath, longing to run away and hide. Why had she come here, when she could have gotten out of it? Then she saw Sebastian’s eyes on her, steadying her, felt the warm pressure of his fingers on her hand, and the dreadful moment passed.

‘Help me put them on,’ she said, taking them up.

He lifted her hair back and she felt his warm breath on the nape of her neck. Then his fingers brushed lightly against her ears, fastening the gold clasps. Maggie drew a slow breath, startled at the way her heart had started to beat.

It was the first time he’d touched her intimately since the night in Sol y Nieve when he’d tried to make love to her, and given up in the face of her despairing chill. Since then, he’d never touched her except by chance, or to give her his hand formally.

And now, when she was least prepared, her sensations returned, making the blood rush to her cheeks. She met Sebastian’s eyes, and saw there that he’d understood. Something was making her breath come quickly. Then a sigh of pleasure from Felipe forced them back to the present, and it was all over.

‘Beautiful,’ he said. ‘Magnificent.’

‘Yes, they are beautiful,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’

Then the tears came to her eyes. It was so dreadful to see him there, his life ruined, and know that she was deceiving him.

‘You must not weep,’ Felipe said.

‘I can’t help it,’ she said huskily, touching his wasted cheek. ‘I’m sorry-I’m so sorry-’

‘No need to be sorry for me-when I have a lovely woman to weep for me,’ he said gallantly. He tried to raise his arm and failed. ‘Sebastian, comfort her.’

She tried to stop crying but her pity for the old man welled up. She had wept for her baby, for Roderigo, for herself, but now she wept for Felipe and they were the bitterest tears of all. She felt Sebastian’s arms go around her, drawing her head against his shoulder, and cried unrestrainedly.

After a moment she forced herself to be calm again, and raised her head, smiling at Felipe.

‘You are a lucky man,’ he said to Sebastian. ‘By now, you might have made a different marriage. But this is the wife for you. She is a good and true woman. No man could ask for better. I, Felipe Mayorez, tell you that.’

‘And you are right, old friend,’ Sebastian said gravely. ‘I have known it, but it pleases me to hear you say it.’

Suddenly the old man gave a sigh. His eyes closed and his head lolled.

‘Carlos,’ Sebastian called, and the young man appeared so quickly that he must have been nearby.

They said their goodbyes, but Felipe seemed hardly able to hear them, and they left. In the car home Maggie realised that she was still wearing the earrings and started to remove them.

‘Keep them on,’ Sebastian told her. ‘They were given from the heart.’

‘I never expected him to be so kind to me.’

‘He saw something in you that he loved,’ Sebastian said simply. ‘This I understand.’

He spoke so quietly that she wasn’t sure she’d heard him, and when she looked he was gazing out of the window.

Maggie had moved out of the room she first occupied, into one that befitted the mistress of the house, but Sebastian had kept his own room next door. Sometimes faint noises reached him through the connecting wall. He tried not to listen, but the noises tormented him.

On the night of their visit to Felipe he sat up late, listening and trying not to listen. As midnight passed into the small hours he could hear her walking about the room. But then the movements stopped, and the silence was worse.

He thought of her that afternoon, letting him hold her while she was torn by pity for the old man, but slipping quickly out of his arms again. And tonight, when she might have turned to him, she had pleaded a headache and gone to bed early. That was six hours ago and she was still awake.