yourself. I’ll never forgive you for that.’
‘And I,’ he said bitingly, ‘will never forgive you for your part in this. For you too kept something vital to yourself, didn’t you?’
‘I’ve explained about my name-’
‘I don’t just mean your name. I mean Jose Ruiz. He came here as your friend from the days of your marriage. Tell me, how did you come to know him?
‘He’s one of the family,’ she admitted.
‘One of the Alva family?’
‘Yes, but his name isn’t Alva.’
‘His name!’ he said contemptuously. ‘As though his name mattered when he carries Alva blood. And you introduced that creature into my house to corrupt Catalina.’
‘He won’t corrupt her; he loves her. He’s a nice boy.’
They looked at each other across a deep abyss.
‘We’re going to have a very interesting marriage,’ Sebastian said at last.
‘Marriage,’ she echoed. ‘You don’t call this a marriage, do you?’ She could hardly get out the last words. A bout of shivering had seized her and her teeth had begun to chatter. She fought to control it but she was in shock. Waves of uncontrollable horror swept over her and she felt as though she were freezing.
Sebastian frowned. With an abrupt movement, he whisked the counterpane from the bed and tried to put it about her but she fended him off with one hand flung out and eyes that burned.
‘Get away from me,’ she said hoarsely. ‘Don’t touch me. Don’t ever try to touch me again.’
‘You must put something on against the cold.’
‘My robe is behind you. Just lay it on the bed and leave it there.’
He did as she said and stepped back, frowning as she seized up the garment and pulled it on, wrapping it right around her as though seeking protection.
‘Now go,’ Maggie said.
‘I don’t want to leave you like this-’
‘Can’t you understand that I hate the sight of you? Go, and don’t try to come near me again tonight.’
‘And tomorrow?’
‘Tomorrow,’ she sighed. ‘Yes, tomorrow is going to come, isn’t it? I can’t think of it now. Go away.’ Her eyes fell on the champagne he’d brought in. ‘Perhaps you should take that with you. There’s nothing to celebrate here.’
She watched as he left the room. She was still shivering, and tried to control it by getting into bed and pulling the covers around her. But it was horror that afflicted her, not cold, and at last she got out of bed and went to sit by the window. She remained there, motionless, for hours.
It was her wedding night, the night she’d looked forward to with joyful anticipation. They should have watched the dawn creep in, wrapped in each other’s arms. Instead she watched it alone, dry-eyed, hugging her arms across her chest as though trying to defend herself from some threatened evil.
As the light changed from darkness to grey she could see her bags, ready packed for her honeymoon. A honeymoon that would never take place, she resolved, pulling herself together. At last she forced life into her stiff limbs. She took the smallest bag, emptied it of its beautiful clothes, and began thrusting in a few things that she would need, including nothing that Sebastian had ever bought her. The clothes she had brought to Spain with her would be enough. From now on, she was her own woman, and that was how it would stay.
She showered and dressed quickly. She tried to think of the future, but all she could see was a blank.
At last there was a light knock on her door. Sebastian stood there, fully dressed, his drawn face telling of the night he’d spent, a night that seemed to have been as bad as hers.
‘May I come in?’
She stepped back to let him pass.
‘You’re a little ahead of time,’ he observed. ‘Our plane for New York doesn’t leave until three o’clock this afternoon.’
‘I’m not going to New York,’ she said bleakly. ‘I’m finished with you, Sebastian. I won’t stay married to a man who could do something so cruel as going through with this farce and not tell me until afterwards. You can go alone, and don’t tell me about your reputation, because I don’t care.’
‘You may not, but I have to. Wherever you go, we must go together, and people must think we are enjoying a blissful honeymoon. England, then?’
‘No, Sol y Nieve. I’m going to ski the “Wall of Death”, and find out if it deserves its reputation.’
‘You’re not going there alone,’ he said at once.
‘I shall do as I please.’
‘Not in this mood. I’m not taking chances on you being reckless. We’ll just alter our honeymoon arrangements and go skiing instead.’
‘Whatever you like. But for pity’s sake, let’s get out of this house.’
CHAPTER NINE
THE “Wall of Death” started near the top of Veleta, the second highest peak of the Sierra Nevada, and the highest from which skiing was possible. From here it dropped a distance of four miles, almost sheer in many places, until it ended near Sol y Nieve.
Within an hour of their arrival they had taken the ski lift up the mountain, riding side by side. Now and then Sebastian glanced at Maggie, but he didn’t speak. There was something about her brooding silence that he was unwilling to interrupt. But when they stood together at the top of the run he said, ‘Wait until tomorrow. You’re not ready.’
‘I’ll never be more ready than I am this minute,’ she said, looking down the run, not at him.
‘More reckless, you mean. Margarita, listen to me-’
He reached for her arm, but as though his touch had detonated a flash she was off, darting out of his reach so fast that she was almost out of sight before he’d recovered. Cursing violently he sped after her, suddenly full of dread. He’d descended the wall himself often before, but never unless he was stone cold sober. And he knew that to tackle it in her present mood was almost an invitation to injury, or worse.
He managed to catch her but there was little more he could do. To get in front, hoping to slow her down, could bring about exactly the crash he feared.
After her first explosive dash, Maggie knew it was going to take all her skill and concentration to get down in one piece. A jagged rock appeared in her path, threatened her, vanished. She could feel the surface spotted with moguls, bumps left by turns in the snow from other skiers, but her legs seemed to move instinctively, balancing her weight to deal with them. Her excitement rose as she realised that she was good enough to do this. Best of all, she was outrunning her ghosts.
And then the end was in sight. She began to slow as Sol y Nieve appeared and grew larger. She reached the end breathless, and feeling as though a cleansing wind had blown through her mind, leaving it empty of everything. There was no pain, no fear, no despair, no joy, no love. There was nothing.
Sebastian appeared almost at once, watching her face. It seemed to him that the hostility had gone, but he searched in vain for anything softer that might have taken its place.
‘Fine, you’ve done it now,’ he said, breathing hard.
‘Yes, I have. And I’m going to do it again. You don’t have to.’
He took hold of her as she turned away. ‘Understand me,’ he said grimly. ‘If you insist on doing this, then we do it together.’
‘There’s no need!’
‘There’s every need, because when you break your neck
‘Fine! On that understanding.’
