by the bridle, while her mother smiled, nodded at the Baron and practically rubbed her hands.
Ramos! Clara thought. Even if she knew nothing of the man, she would immediately have been able to tell that he was a roué : he was not even thirty years-old and already looked forty, with a face bloated by drink and a knowing smile that almost always accompanied his hooded stare.
She felt her back stiffen as Juliana continued her conversation with the man and he looked her up and down with a liberty no gentleman would have shown. Clara was fuming when the Baron asked for the pleasure of escorting her on her ride, and Juliana beamed and motioned for her to get on her horse.
It would not do to refuse, since he knew that she had just arrived with the intention of going for a ride: everything, it seemed, had been agreed between him and Juliana, and her mother would not insist on a chaperone. But as she got on her saddle with Ramos' help and his hand lingered on her arm, Clara could not help throwing Juliana a bitter look.
How can you send me off with a man such as this? she was asking silently. Everyone knew Ramos' only purpose in life was to seduce women, and yet because he had a fortune and a title, her mother was content to let her be seen with him. When I was never left alone two minutes with Gabriel, she thought, an honest man worth ten million of this Baron.
As they rode away from Juliana and further into the park, Clara was nevertheless thinking she ought to have pleaded a headache or dizziness. She could not help worrying as they rode through the trees and saw less and less people. Ramos obviously knew the park better than she did and was luring her away from the busiest paths.
"It's a beautiful day," he said as they trotted, throwing a glance at her which lingered on her waist, then her breasts. Clara could feel herself flushing, but his eyes, now on her face, were shining with lust.
"I would like to be nearer the path," she said, incapable of pretending that she felt comfortable.
"Why?" he asked outright. "You're not afraid of me?"
Clara turned to look at him. "Not of you, no. Of your reputation."
"Ah!" he exclaimed, laughing. "How refreshing! A woman who says what she thinks."
"Please let us return to the path," she asked again, and began pulling on the reins until Ramos took hold of them with a gloved hand and stopped her.
Clara gasped. His hand was touching hers, but she did not want to let go of the reins, as he would then lead her horse wherever he wanted.
"Please let go!" she said.
"Come, come," Ramos said, pulling the bridle towards him and bringing her closer. "Don't be afraid!"
"I have told you, I am not afraid!"
"Good," he said, his face already near hers. She could smell his nauseatingly sweet cologne and the pomade he had used on his hair, as well as the wax on his mustache. He had absurdly long droopy lashes for a man, and there was already wine on his breath, though it was only ten o'clock.
Clara's whole being revolted against him, and she moved her face away so that he had to let go of the bridle to put his arm around her waist as he tried to kiss her.
Turning back to him Clara put her hand on his chest and pushed him away. Her riding stick was in her other hand and she used it to hit the flank of his horse sharply with a loud cry.
The horse started nervously, then bolted, and the Baron shouted in fright. Clara watched as the man swayed perilously in his saddle, trying to grab the reins that had fallen from his hand to stop the animal's mad race.
She started laughing very hard; she could not help it. She didn't care if the story were all over Lisbon soon, as it would be a good warning to any other shameless rakes. Let them all look to themselves , she thought mutinously. One of them may even end up dead!
No one should touch me but Gabriel, she said to herself as she rode back to her mother. No one ever will! She hoped that Ramos would be ashamed enough not to appear
Ramos! Clara thought. Even if she knew nothing of the man, she would immediately have been able to tell that he was a roué : he was not even thirty years-old and already looked forty, with a face bloated by drink and a knowing smile that almost always accompanied his hooded stare.
She felt her back stiffen as Juliana continued her conversation with the man and he looked her up and down with a liberty no gentleman would have shown. Clara was fuming when the Baron asked for the pleasure of escorting her on her ride, and Juliana beamed and motioned for her to get on her horse.
It would not do to refuse, since he knew that she had just arrived with the intention of going for a ride: everything, it seemed, had been agreed between him and Juliana, and her mother would not insist on a chaperone. But as she got on her saddle with Ramos' help and his hand lingered on her arm, Clara could not help throwing Juliana a bitter look.
How can you send me off with a man such as this? she was asking silently. Everyone knew Ramos' only purpose in life was to seduce women, and yet because he had a fortune and a title, her mother was content to let her be seen with him. When I was never left alone two minutes with Gabriel, she thought, an honest man worth ten million of this Baron.
As they rode away from Juliana and further into the park, Clara was nevertheless thinking she ought to have pleaded a headache or dizziness. She could not help worrying as they rode through the trees and saw less and less people. Ramos obviously knew the park better than she did and was luring her away from the busiest paths.
"It's a beautiful day," he said as they trotted, throwing a glance at her which lingered on her waist, then her breasts. Clara could feel herself flushing, but his eyes, now on her face, were shining with lust.
"I would like to be nearer the path," she said, incapable of pretending that she felt comfortable.
"Why?" he asked outright. "You're not afraid of me?"
Clara turned to look at him. "Not of you, no. Of your reputation."
"Ah!" he exclaimed, laughing. "How refreshing! A woman who says what she thinks."
"Please let us return to the path," she asked again, and began pulling on the reins until Ramos took hold of them with a gloved hand and stopped her.
Clara gasped. His hand was touching hers, but she did not want to let go of the reins, as he would then lead her horse wherever he wanted.
"Please let go!" she said.
"Come, come," Ramos said, pulling the bridle towards him and bringing her closer. "Don't be afraid!"
"I have told you, I am not afraid!"
"Good," he said, his face already near hers. She could smell his nauseatingly sweet cologne and the pomade he had used on his hair, as well as the wax on his mustache. He had absurdly long droopy lashes for a man, and there was already wine on his breath, though it was only ten o'clock.
Clara's whole being revolted against him, and she moved her face away so that he had to let go of the bridle to put his arm around her waist as he tried to kiss her.
Turning back to him Clara put her hand on his chest and pushed him away. Her riding stick was in her other hand and she used it to hit the flank of his horse sharply with a loud cry.
The horse started nervously, then bolted, and the Baron shouted in fright. Clara watched as the man swayed perilously in his saddle, trying to grab the reins that had fallen from his hand to stop the animal's mad race.
She started laughing very hard; she could not help it. She didn't care if the story were all over Lisbon soon, as it would be a good warning to any other shameless rakes. Let them all look to themselves , she thought mutinously. One of them may even end up dead!
No one should touch me but Gabriel, she said to herself as she rode back to her mother. No one ever will! She hoped that Ramos would be ashamed enough not to appear
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