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 Marques needs to read her letter alone.’