“He met my mother at the University of Arizona,” Maggie interjected.
“A catastrophe,” Carmen muttered under her breath.
“Naturally, I don’t agree,” Maggie added.
“Now for David Hyde-Fox. Miguel has named Santos as your guardian. You’ve also been well provided for until you’re eighteen, and your university expenses are held in trust.”
“He never cared about education before,” Enrique muttered.
The attorney caught his gaze. “He was firmly committed to doing what is best for his children. If you are not grateful now, you will be someday.”
“Magdalena, you, Santos and I will be the administrators of the trust. Augustín made wise investments, and so did Miguel. With careful investments, we can continue to build the resources of the Aragon family.” He passed an information folder to Maggie and Santos.
“Wait a minute,” Cirilda cried. “How can we run the
beach house if Miguel isn’t there to cover the expenses?”
“You will receive a household allowance. You needn’t worry you’ll be reduced to relying on charity. The funds Augustín left for you and your mother should continue to cover your personal expenses, and you have your divorce settlements. I would like to meet with Magdalena and Santos to choose a time to discuss the trust, so would you two please remain after the others leave? I also need a moment with you, Miss Santillan.” He laid the letters on the table. “Miguel put a great deal of time and thought into these, and I hope each of you will cherish them.”
Rafael rose to open the door, and Vida, Maria Luisa and Enrique picked up their letters and left first. He smiled as Carmen and Cirilda walked by, while they regarded him with an undisguised loathing. The twins paused to hug Maggie, and then their mother hurried them to the door.
“We miss you,” they cried. “When will we see you again?”
Maggie embraced them. “I hope it’ll be someday soon.” She smiled at Marina. “I’m sorry we had no chance to talk when you came to the beach house.”
“I doubt we have much in common,” she replied. “Come, let’s go. No one is paying you to model here.”
“Mr. Mondragon,” the attorney asked, “would you please take Mr. Hyde-Fox downstairs to the café? I neglected to provide refreshments. Give us a half hour or so, please.”
Fox handed his letter to Santos. “Will you keep this for me?”
“I’ll be glad to.”
After Rafael had closed the door on his way out, Mr. Calderon opened a cupboard in the wood-paneled wall to remove a blue velvet jeweler’s box. “This is for you, Miss Santillan. Miguel regretted not being able to give you this ring with a heartfelt proposal, but he couldn’t bear to leave you a widow.”
Ana’s hands shook as she opened the box to reveal a gorgeous pear-shaped pink diamond ring. Shocked, she looked to Santos, who appeared as surprised as she. “He never mentioned marriage to me. I’d no idea he wanted to propose.” She sank into her seat, and tears flooded her eyes faster than she could wipe them away. “I’m sorry, but this is such a surprise. I thought he might leave me a painting or some pretty trinket.”
Mr. Calderon understood her dismay. “We’ll wait a minute for you to collect yourself, Miss Santillan. Santos is familiar with the trust, but you’ll want to review the portfolio, Miss Aragon.”
Maggie set aside her father’s letter, the second he’d written to her on the heavy vellum stationery with the kingdom of Aragon crest. She was more interested in what he’d said than in the trust, but when she opened the folder, she found an astonishing sum had been invested. She looked up at Santos, who winked at her.
“As an administrator, you’ll be generously paid for your time,” the attorney said.
Ana slid the engagement ring onto her right hand and left with a sniffled good-bye. Santos rose but didn’t stop her. “Don’t say a word,” he cautioned Maggie.
“I wouldn’t dream of it, but Augustín married the wrong woman, and our father did it repeatedly. You’re sure to do better.”
“I told you I’m not getting married, ever.” He sat and pushed his chair away from the table to be more comfortable. “You ought to have the kids, Magdalena, and I’ll leave the ranch to the little half-Gypsy brats. It’ll be good to have some new blood in the family.”
“My children won’t be brats,” she emphasized, without commenting on who their father might be. Then the mention of blood struck her. “Do you have the same blood type as Father did?” she asked.
“Yes, A positive. What about you?”
“Mine’s A positive too.” With his exotic Gypsy background, she doubted Rafael would share their blood type. Feeling sick, she grabbed the edge of the table. Her father must have known heart recipients and their donors had to share the same blood type. He’d mentioned fans donated blood before bullfights, so without too much difficulty, he could have discovered the blood type of any matador he chose. Or he could have focused on Santos and used Rafael to push his son into taking ever more dangerous risks.
Mr. Calderon noted the sudden paleness of her skin. “The last few days have been difficult for us all, Miss Aragon, but a very fine investment firm handles the family trust, and you won’t be expected to consider individual investments. You’ll simply meet with us each quarter to review the portfolio.”
The Aragon trust was the least of her worries. “I’m a teacher and might not be able to visit Spain that often.”