her irises a violet tint and setting off the radiant nature of her skin, which glowed even more warmly under her newly caught tan from the beach. The dress had a plunging neckline and a knotted bodice from which the skirt fell into a profusion of soft folds. A fabulous necklace cascading with different-sized gold beads hung down to her cleavage, ending in a cluster of small gems fashioned as grapes. She had teamed it with a matching pair of earrings and stiletto sandals. Her long raven-black hair was tonight worn loose to the hips and acted as a cloak around her naked shoulders. The whole effect was striking.
The theatre was horseshoe shaped; the de Ruedas stood in the large ground-floor foyer facing a handsome marble staircase that led to the stalls, the gallery, the mezzanine boxes and the upper floors of the widely curving auditorium. The decor was a sumptuous mixture of antiquated gold and claret, soft drapes and mouldings, though everything had faded somewhat with the passage of time.
Salvador and Alexandra knew almost everyone in Cádiz and they were soon joined by quite a few of their wide circle of friends. Luz had met many of them; the names and faces were familiar, but mostly they were family acquaintances she’d had little to do with, being so often away. As she was greeted by kisses and handshakes, Luz smiled politely and tried to take part in the small talk.
Suddenly, across the room, she caught sight of a figure standing with a group of young, smartly dressed men and women. The men wore black tie and the women were all in evening gowns and richly bejewelled. Though he stood with his back to her, something about his stance was vaguely familiar. His dark hair was tied back in a ponytail and, as he turned a little, the light from the chandelier fell obliquely on his profile, throwing into relief its chiselled lines. Luz paled and inwardly flinched. Leandro? Was it possible? What was he doing here?
Her mother’s hand on her arm jerked her back to reality. ‘We’d better take our seats. The theatre is crowded tonight and the performance will soon be starting. I hate queues.’ Alexandra frowned. ‘You looked strained, is everything all right, darling?’
‘Yes, Mamá , everything’s fine … I’m just a little worried about tomorrow’s test.’ Luz forced her features weakly into a smile. ‘I really do want this job very badly.’
Alexandra gave her daughter’s arm an affectionate squeeze. ‘You’ll do very well, as you’ve always done. Don’t worry, just try to relax and enjoy the show,’ she said.
‘Yes, of course, Mamá .’ She took a calming breath, then, when she looked up again, the little group of jetsetters had moved away.
The de Rueda family were ushered down the corridor to their box. The auditorium, like the rest of the theatre, was decorated in Moorish revival style, with ornate arches stretching along cream-coloured balconies, its boxes hung with red velvet curtains. Luz took her seat at the front of their box with her mother, while Salvador took his place at the back.
She tried to relax and enjoy the scene, tilting her head to gaze at the nineteenth-century ceiling fresco, Felipe Abárzuza’s vast allegory of Paradise, but she was fidgety. She felt like wandering around, but the thick velvet curtain had been pulled behind them and the padded doors were now closed; she would have to wait for the interval. Luz could not get the young man in the lobby out of her mind. She was not sure it was Leandro, he had been too far away, and though she’d had a brief glimpse of his profile she really couldn’t be certain. Besides, logic told her it didn’t make sense: what would a gypsy be doing among such a smart crowd? He looked so much at ease, too. She must have been mistaken.
The orchestra was tuning up in the pit. Luz rather liked the slightly cacophonic sound it made. After a while she picked up the small opera glasses on the side of her armrest and started to scan the crowd. The
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