Felipe caught her eye then, giving her a wave, and she quickly looked around to make sure her mother wasn’t watching before waving back. Even from where she was standing, she could see the way his eyes lit up when he saw her, and she knew that if someone was looking at her, they’d have seen the same look on her face. She was always pleased to see him.
Valentina would have done anything to go and stand with him, but she knew her mother would never forgive her. She was in a pretty dress that her mama had chosen for her, white with light blue dots, and although she didn’t mind it, she would have much preferred to be in breeches and boots, helping to prepare the horses for when they were next needed.
‘Valentina, come and meet some of the ladies,’ her mother called out, beckoning her over.
She exchanged a quick glance with her brother, who looked thankful that the attention had been diverted away from him. Valentina fixed a smile and stood close to her mother, knowing what was expected of her.
‘My Valentina is seventeen now. Before I know it, she’ll be all grown up and married.’
Valentina was grateful when a waiter came past holding a tray of drinks, and she happily took a glass of lemonade as the other women all began talking about their children and tittering about finding them husbands or wives. The last thing she wanted to think about was getting married or leaving home; she had no intention of doing either any time soon, and her father had already made it clear how fortunate she was—she would never have to marry for money or security. He wanted her by his side, learning the business so that one day she would be able to take over his position, and if she chose to marry, it was only to be for a love match. She’d been embarrassed when he’d first brought it up, but she understood that he was trying to tell herthat she didn’t have to follow her mother’s well-meaning plan—marriage wasn’t the only way for a young woman with means.
Thankfully the first chukka started then, and all the ladies turned to watch the horses galloping down the field, momentarily suspending their conversations. Valentina sipped her lemonade as she watched her father expertly handle the mallet, connecting hard with the ball and sending it flying down the field at speed. Her heart swelled with pride, but as much as she tried to watch the game, her eyes kept dancing over to where Felipe stood.
‘Valentina?’
She quickly looked away, her eyes immediately fixed on her father again the moment her mother said her name, as if she might be able to detect whom she was staring at. And when she glanced at her, Valentina knew that she’d been caught. Her mother’s eyes were narrowed, and she could tell by the pinched look around her mouth that she wasn’t happy.
‘Valentina, come and stand closer to me,’ her mother said. ‘And don’t forget,mi hija, that there is a reason we stand on this side of the field and that the others stand over there. Make no mistake about whom you are, or where you’re supposed to be.’
Valentina’s cheeks burnt hot as she kept her head turned towards the game, for she knew precisely what her mother was trying to say. A boy like Felipe would never be good enough for her; not now, not ever, and there would be no changing her mother’s mind.
‘How are your riding lessons going, Valentina?’
She kept her eyes on the horses in front of her on the field, not wanting to look at her father for fear that he’d somehow beable to read her mind, which was full of thoughts of her morning rides and all the stolen kisses she and Felipe had shared by the stables. She’d managed to escape her mother’s clutches once the first game was over, and had been enjoying a few moments alone, away from the crowd, until her father found her.
‘They’re going very well,’ she said. ‘Felipe thinks I take after you, actually.’
‘Ahh, now why doesn’t that surprise me?’ Her father laughed, his arm against hers as he leaned forward on the rails beside her. ‘I should have let you start riding years ago, Valentina. I’m sorry.’
Valentina didn’t know how to tell him that she was grateful he hadn’t—if he had, she would never have been able to learn from Felipe, to spend so many mornings in his company, basking in his undivided attention. Learning to ride at precisely the moment she had was one of the best things that had ever happened to her.
‘Tell me, are you still enjoying riding Pablo after all this time, or would you like me to buy you a horse of your own?’
‘Pablo is perfect for me,’ she replied. ‘I’m told he was your favourite horse when he was younger?’
‘You’ve heard wrong,’ her father said, grinning at her as he turned. ‘He isstillmy favourite horse. I’ve never scored more goals on one pony than I did on him—he was something very special. But if you love him, then he is yours. I’d love to think that my daughter was the one taking care of him and riding him in his retirement from polo.’
Valentina stood on tiptoe and pressed a kiss to his cheek. ‘Thank you. I don’t know a lot about horses yet, but I think he’s enjoying being made a fuss of again. And I promise to retire him properly when he’s ready.’
She looked up at her father now, waiting for him to say something else as his eyes twinkled back at her. But as heopened his mouth, he paused and suddenly touched his hand to his chest, looking uncomfortable. She saw that a line on his forehead bulged, as if he were under great stress or fighting a feeling of pain as he stared back at her.
‘Papa, are you okay?’
He was silent for a moment, before shaking his head, appearing uneasy, but clearly not wanting her to know how bad it was.
‘I’m fine, my love. Just a chest pain. It’s nothing to worry about.’
‘Should I call for a doctor? Just to be sure?’
He shook his head again, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to her forehead. ‘I’m fine. This is what happens when an old man like me tries to play sport with men half his age. A glass of wine and something to eat, and I’ll be as good as new.’
Valentina was about to insist he see the doctor when her mother came marching over, looking very annoyed at having to walk in her beautiful cream heels across the grass. She remembered a time when she was a very young child when her mother had been more relaxed, fun almost, but as the years had passed, she’d changed, obsessed with elevating her place in society and wanting her family’s status to rise at the same time. Valentina knew it embarrassed her father, but he seemed to go along with it to keep his wife happy, ever the peacemaker.
‘Basilio, what are you doing over here? We have people to talk to and?—’
‘Mama,’ Valentina interrupted, receiving a sharp stare in reply. ‘Papa wasn’t feeling well. I think?—’
‘Basilio?’
