Page 5 of The Spanish Daughter (The Lost Daughters #5)

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THE SANTIAGO FAMILY ESTATE, ARGENTINA, 1930

Valentina smiled at her father as she ate the last of her breakfast, careful to dab the crumbs at the side of her mouth so that she didn’t invoke the wrath of her mother. Her father was sitting across from her, with his newspaper held just low enough that he could look at her.

‘It’s time for your lessons,’ Valentina’s mother said, her tone clipped as she gestured for their maid to take her plate. ‘Hurry along, please.’

Valentina nodded, averting her gaze from her father for fear that she might smile. Because he’d already told her that she wouldn’t be taking her lessons this morning. Today, she was to accompany him to work, and she couldn’t wait.

When he cleared his throat, she stared down at her lap.

‘Camilla, not today. I’m taking Valentina with me.’

Her mother was silent for a moment, and silence was always more terrifying than raised voices, at least where her mama was concerned.

‘Take Bruno with you instead,’ she said. ‘There’s no point in taking Valentina. If you continue to indulge her, she’ll start to think?—’

‘That she will one day inherit my great fortune and need the skills to continue building the empire I’ve created?’ he asked, his voice slightly raised. Her papa didn’t get angry often, but Valentina could tell his temper was flaring ‘You think I don’t understand what I’m doing?’

Valentina glanced at Bruno, who didn’t seem to care at all that he was being overlooked. He was her step-sibling, and eight years older than her, but they’d always got along just fine. It was their mother who liked to pit them against each other, always making it clear to Valentina that her firstborn son was her most important child. It was something that Valentina had never understood.

‘Basilio,’ her mother said, her voice softer now as she tried to soothe him. ‘I was only meaning that I don’t think she’s?—’

‘I don’t intend on discussing the matter. Valentina is coming with me,’ he said, folding his paper and then rising. ‘Darling, our driver will be here soon. Please go and finish getting ready.’

‘Yes, Papa,’ Valentina said, demurely so as not to anger her mother. She even paused after standing to kiss her mother’s cheek, but the affection was not returned.

Her mother was kind to her at times, but Valentina had always been made to feel as if they were competing for her father’s affections. Sometimes she’d wondered if she was even her real mother, the way she made her feel as if she wasn’t worthy of her father’s love, but she knew how ridiculous that was. She was Valentina Santiago, and her parents’ love story had been retold to her countless times over her childhood, including how cherished her birth was after three years of their hoping and praying to have a family. But for some reason, at times her mother didn’t seem to even want her.

‘Valentina,’ her maid, Ana, said, hurrying her away. ‘Let me do your hair and get you changed. Your father told me that you would need your best clothes today.’

A shiver of excitement ran through Valentina and she raced up the stairs, taking them two at a time as her maid clucked her tongue behind her. But she didn’t tell her off, Ana never did; she was more maternal to her than her own mother, and other than telling Valentina that she prayed for her, she never scolded her for her enthusiasm. Quite the contrary, she seemed to enjoy it.

‘Did he tell you where he was taking me?’ Valentina asked, breathless as she sat down on the stool in front of the mirror.

Ana brushed out Valentina’s long hair, securing it with delicate pins so that it didn’t fall to her face.

‘No, mi pequeno ,’ she said. ‘But from the look on your face, I can tell you’re excited.’

Valentina grinned, trying not to wriggle. ‘I am. I love it when he takes me to work with him. I’m going to see his offices again and meet all the people who work for him.’

Ana sighed, but Valentina ignored it and bounced from the stool when she was finished, kissing her maid on the cheek and receiving a quick hug in return.

‘Let me get your best coat, just in case you need it. It sounds like you have a very special day planned.’

Valentina took it and bounded back down the stairs, finding her father at the door. He’d been frowning, she could see the lines on his face, but he gave her an easy smile the moment he saw her, as if she’d just brightened his day. That’s the way they always were together, as if nothing else mattered—the two of them against the world.

‘I’m ready, Papa,’ she said.

Her hand slipped into his as they stepped outside, into the sunshine. But he was quick to guide her past the waiting car, leading her by the hand.

‘I thought we were going to your office?’ she asked, glancing back at the driver who was still waiting for them. She wouldn’t have worn her best dress otherwise.

‘We are,’ he said. ‘But first, we are going to walk through the stables. Do you feel the way the weather is changing, Valentina? The slight coolness in the air?’

She nodded, lifting her face to let the breeze touch her skin.

‘It’s time for my horses to come back to work,’ he said. ‘The polo season is almost upon us.’

She nodded, loving an excuse to be around her father’s beloved polo ponies. Because if there was one thing that brought her father joy, it was playing polo, which meant that she loved the sport almost as much as he did, even if it was only as a spectator.

‘Valentina, do you know that something very special is happening this year?’ he asked.

She stopped when he did, looking up at him and blinking the sun from her eyes. ‘No, Papa. What’s happening?’

‘The Pingüinos Club is hosting the very first game of women’s polo,’ he said. ‘I am going to take you, so that you can see what women can do. I think it’s important for you to see how brave and capable young women can be, that nothing can stop you from achieving whatever you set your mind to.’

Valentina beamed at the idea of going anywhere with her father. ‘Will Mama change her mind and let me play polo?’

He laughed and placed a hand on her head. ‘No, carino , I don’t think so. But perhaps it could be our little secret that we’re going?’

Valentina hurried after him when he began to walk again, struggling to keep up with his long stride as she dreamed of what it would feel like to ride on the back of one of his magnificent ponies.

A few minutes later, as Valentina walked up and down the stables and touched the velvety nose of each horse as they peered out at her, their heads hanging over their doors, her father called her name.

‘Valentina, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.’

She turned immediately and went to join her father and another man who was dressed in riding gear.

‘This is José,’ her father said, and she held out her hand as he’d shown her to do. ‘José, this is my daughter, Valentina.’ The man seemed surprised to be introduced to her, but carefully took her hand and gently shook it, as if he was holding something breakable. ‘He has recently moved here from Spain to be my stable manager. José is very important to me.’

‘Pleased to meet you,’ Valentina said. She knew what her father was trying to tell her—if José was important to him, then he was important to her, also.

A movement caught her eye then, and she saw a boy step out from behind one of the stable doors. He had a mop of thick black hair, and when she smiled at him, he poked his tongue out and made her laugh, and she had to quickly bite down on her lip to stop from making any noise.

‘Ahh, Basilio, this is my son, Felipe,’ José said. ‘Felipe, come and say hello to Mr Santiago.’

Valentina watched as the boy wiped his hands on his jeans before shaking hands with her father, his dark eyes meeting hers for a fleeting second before he stood back. She could tell he was older than her, maybe by a year or two, and she liked the way he went to one of the horses who was whinnying and appeared unsettled as he pressed his hand against the horse’s cheek to calm him.

‘Your son is also a gifted horseman?’ her father asked, watching him.

‘He is,’ José replied. ‘We like to say that it runs in the blood in our family. We’ve been horsemen for generations.’

‘And how old is he?’

‘Almost twelve years old,’ José said, and Valentina saw the way his eyes twinkled when he spoke of his son, the same way her father’s did when he introduced her to someone new.

‘Well, let the boy ride as a reward for all his hard work. I like to see young people enjoy the sport. Who knows, he might be riding for my team before long, just like his papa.’

As her father turned to leave, Valentina spoke, her soft voice stopping the men from walking away.

‘Papa, perhaps Felipe could teach me to ride one day?’ she asked.

Her father laughed, as did José, but she saw that Felipe was looking earnestly back at her, as if he didn’t think it was a silly idea at all.

The car journey to her papa’s office took forty minutes, and she stared out of the window and looked at the scenery as they passed. Her father was busy reading documents, and she found that she couldn’t stop thinking about the boy, Felipe. There had been something about him, a manner he had with the horses, or the way he’d looked at her, that made her wonder about his life.

‘Papa, what was it like growing up in Spain?’ she asked.

He set his papers down and turned to her, his smile kind. ‘It was where I learnt everything there is to know about olives and olive oil,’ he said. ‘I shall take you there one day soon, to see our old farm. It’s been too long since we last travelled there, and I want you to remember your heritage.’

He placed his hand gently to her chest. ‘You’re Spanish in here. Just as I am.’

She nodded, but he didn’t turn away from her.

‘You have something on your mind?’ her father asked.

‘I was only wondering what it must have been like for Felipe to move to Argentina from Spain,’ she said. ‘I wouldn’t like to leave my home.’

‘Ahh,’ he said, smiling as he angled his body towards her. ‘You have a kind heart, mi hija , it’s one of the things I love most about you. And it’s true, it must have been very hard for Felipe and his family to move here, but I offered his father a very good job, earning more money than he could have ever dreamed of making where he was working in Spain. It made sense for them to come here, to live a different kind of life.’

Valentina sat silently for a moment, considering what her father had just told her.

‘If you want the very best people to work for you, and you want them to be loyal to you, you must pay them well and treat them with respect. It’s why my employees feel like family, and one day, when it is you making the decisions about the business, Valentina, I want you to remember that. It’s one of the most important lessons that my father taught me as a boy.’

‘I will, Papa,’ she said, with a fierceness that surprised her. Because she wanted to be just like her papa. She saw how people looked at him, at the respect he commanded, but also the way no one was afraid to talk to him. He shared his easy smile with everyone around him, remembering names and always seeming interested in the families of those who worked for him.

As the car slowed and then stopped, he placed his hand on hers and looked into her eyes. ‘Valentina, everything that’s mine will be yours one day, do you understand? I am leaving everything to you, mi dulce chica , because I can tell you have the heart and strength of a lion. I know you won’t let me down.’

She loved it when he called her his sweet girl, and she beamed back at him.

‘I promise, Papa,’ she said, as their driver opened the door. ‘I won’t let you down.’

Valentina adored her father, and even though she was only ten years old, she knew with every beat of her heart that she would spend her life proving that she was just like him, that she could follow in his footsteps in any way that he wanted her to.

They stepped out and he held out his hand for her, waiting for her to press her palm against his as they walked into the building bearing the Santiago family name.