Bandit Love by Juanita Savage (brene brown rising strong txt) 📖

"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.