Cristina blushed. ‘Obrigado,’ she murmured, thinking bleakly, You would not find much beauty there now.
‘Have you seen Santa Rosa, Anton?’ Luis’s mother asked her son. ‘The ranch sits on the edge of the pampas, with fertile pastures and valleys dramatically backed by the rise of the mountains and the most awe-inspiring sub-tropical forest acting like a barrier to hold back the ocean beyond…’
She went silent for a moment, eyes lost to some distant memory. Then she blinked. ‘I may be mistaken, because it was more than thirty years ago when I was there, but I seem to recall that the house itself resembles a Portuguese mansion house?’
Cristina nodded, wetted her dry lips with a sip of wine. ‘My ancestors built the house over three hundred years ago. It was not unusual for Portuguese settlers to reproduce the style of house they were used to living in Portugal. The area has many similar-styled houses.’
‘But few were built and furnished to the grand style of Santa Rosa, I suspect.’
Cristina lowered her eyes, thinking about the home she had left only a few short days ago, where grandeur had lost out to peeling paint and damp walls.
‘Do you think I might know your mother?’
Cristina shook her head. ‘My father met and married my mother when he was visiting Portugal. She died a year later, giving birth to me, so I doubt you would have met.’
‘It is a shame, then, that your father could not join us this evening.’
Her tone had taken on a subtle alteration. Everyone noticed it. Luis tensed. Kinsella reached for her wine glass. Cristina waited a moment before she lifted her eyes.
‘Both my parents are dead, Senhora Scott-Lee,’ she provided, as calmly as she could.
‘Ah, my sympathies.’ Mrs Scott-Lee tilted her head. ‘But surely your father must have married again? Provided you with a brother, perhaps, to inherit Santa Rosa?’
‘I am an only child. I inherited Santa Rosa.’
‘Then my son has indeed made a fortunate choice in bride,’ his mother said. ‘Your children will be truly blessed on both sides of the family—unless you have children from your first marriage, who will naturally inherit from you?’
It was like taking a double punch in the stomach. Cristina didn’t answer, could not answer. More tension leapt around the table. Kinsella sent her a cold, sly, malicious little smile that chilled Cristina’s blood.
‘Is there a point to this line of questioning?’ Anton intervened at last.
Maria looked at her son. ‘I was led to believe that your—betrothed had previously been married.’
‘Interesting,’ Anton murmured. ‘Who exactly led you to believe this?’
She didn’t bat an eyelash. ‘Miss Lane and I were discussing the interesting fact that you had a—guest staying with you, just before you arrived, querido.’
‘Miss Lane—’ Anton did not so much as cast a glance in Kinsella’s direction ‘—should know better than to discuss my private business with anyone.’
‘Even with your mother?’
‘I apologise if you feel I’ve overstepped my working brief, Anton.’ Kinsella came in on a contrite little rush. ‘But I assumed your mother must already know about—’
‘And why should information relayed to you by my secretary make you jump on the first plane out of London to Rio?’ Anton continued, right over Kinsella’s breathless little rush.
His mother stiffened as she stared at her son. ‘Max?’ she whispered.
Anton nodded grimly. ‘I would also like to know why the fact that Cristina has been married before is of any interest to anyone but Cristina and I, and why you feel it is necessary to interrogate her like this.’
Maria flushed. ‘I was merely trying to ascertain—’
‘What I was up to?’
‘You hardly know the woman, querido!’ his mother suddenly sparked. ‘You met her for the first time barely twenty-four hours ago. She is not what she seems. She is—’
‘The widow of Vaasco Ordoniz,’ Cristina herself placed into the erupting tension.
‘Cristina—’
Ignoring the husky warning in Luis’s tone, she looked directly at his mother instead. ‘Since you say you knew my father, I must assume that you also knew my husband, Vaasco?’
‘He was—’
‘I know what he was, Senhora Scott-Lee. I married him; you did not,’ Cristina said, and watched as the older woman caught her meaning, then went pale. ‘It is therefore perfectly understandable to me, if not to Luis, that you should wish to know why I was willing to marry a man who was more than twice my own age.’
‘You misunderstand me—’
‘Not at all,’ Cristina said. ‘I understand you perfectly.’
Luis mother was staring at her with a kind of pained plea glowing in her eyes. She was terrified of what Cristina was going to say next. Kinsella was utterly captivated, and Luis was too calm for her to suspect that he had any idea what was threatening to come out into the open.
But Cristina was not going to be the one to tell him. Let his mamma confess her own sins, she thought as she rose to her feet. ‘I think I will—’
Her hand was closed inside a male fist. ‘Sit down,’ Luis instructed.
‘Anton—’ his mamma said on a hushed warning breath. The altercation at their table was beginning to attract attention, other diners were turning to stare.
A man appeared at Cristina’s side. Young, slight and immaculately dressed. ‘Excuse me for interrupting your dinner, senhora,’ he murmured politely. ‘I have been instructed to give this to you…’
He handed Cristina a white envelope. Amidst the rest of what was happening around her it made the whole scene take on a surreal quality as the young man bowed politely, then melted away again.
‘What the hell was that about?’ Anton demanded.
His guess was as good as anyone’s—except for Cristina’s. She took one glance at the envelope, went as white as a sheet, then turned on a muffled, ‘Excuse me,’ stepped around her chair and fled.
Anton shot to his feet to go after her. His mother was on her feet too. ‘No, Anton,’ she said quickly. ‘I think Miss Marques needs to read her letter alone.’
Not while I’m here to stop her, Anton thought grimly, and went to go after her.
‘You cannot enter the Ladies’ Room, darling!’ his mother said anxiously.