House of Dreams Read Online Free Page A

all the gifts in the world could not make up for her absentee style of motherhood, that gifts could not buy love. She wanted to shout, Wake up! I know you love her, but show it, Goddamn it! Spend some time here, with your family! But she said none of those things. Alyssa’s control was fragile, at best. And now, so was her own.
    Wouldn’t de la Barca want an intellectual woman?
    â€œOh, you have to open the pink package, you’ll just love it!” Tracey cried, rushing forward and handing it to her daughter. It was one of the smallest packages present. In the same breath Tracey delved into
her duffel and produced a long flat box for Cass. She smiled. “And don’t you dare say no.”
    Cass knew it was clothing. Her sister had incredible taste in clothes, was the chicest person Cass knew, but Cass wasn’t Tracey. She didn’t wear miniskirts and she didn’t wear stiletto heels. Of course, she was only five foot three. She wouldn’t even be able to walk in the kind of shoes Tracey wore. “Thanks,” she said.
    â€œAre you all right?” Tracey asked with concern.
    â€œAbsolutely,” Cass said, imagining that her smile was stretched wide and thin.
    Catherine suddenly said, “Oh, Tracey, dear, how lovely.”
    Her tone was odd. Cass looked up to find Catherine holding a stunning Elizabeth Locke pin, a large peridot stone engraved with the figure of a woman, set in a matte gold bar with a diamond chain. But she wasn’t admiring the pin. Her brow was furrowed, and she was staring at their visitor. Cass realized she had forgotten to introduce him to her aunt.
    But before she could do so, Tracey was speaking in a gay rush. “I was walking down the street when I saw it in the window and I just knew it was perfect for you,” she said, smiling happily at her aunt.
    â€œI wish you hadn’t,” Catherine said very softly, for the hundredth time, her gaze now on her niece. But then it veered back to de la Barca, and her aunt’s expression made Cass concerned.
    Alyssa had opened her pink parcel, and now she sat down on the second step of the stairs, clutching something to her chest.
    Tracey turned eagerly. “It’s a collector’s item, darling. Her name is Sparkee. Isn’t she just the cutest?”
    Alyssa bit her lip, nodding. “Thank you, Mother.”
    Cass realized she was holding a Beanie Baby. Alyssa adored the small stuffed animals and had been brokenhearted when they had all been retired last year. Tracey had probably found the little toy in an auction, or even on the Net. She had gone to great lengths, clearly. But Cass could not focus on mother and daughter now. “Aunt Catherine? Are you all right?” Her aunt seemed oddly stiff with tension.
    â€œWe haven’t met,” Aunt Catherine said quietly.
    â€œForgive me, but I am intruding—and that is the last thing I wish to do,” Antonio de la Barca said as quietly.
    But Tracey was swooping down on her aunt, having looped her arm in Antonio’s again. “How could you intrude, darling? Aunt Catherine, this is Antonio de la Barca, from Madrid. Tonio, my aunt, Lady Catherine Belford.”

    Cass started forward. Her aunt was immobile, as if afraid to move, the color having drained from her face. “Aunt Catherine? Are you ill?” she asked with alarm.
    If Catherine heard her, she gave no sign. She stared at de la Barca, her expression strained. She could not seem to take her eyes off him. “You resemble your father,” she said thickly.
    He had been reaching for her hand, and now he froze. “You knew my father, Lady Belford?”
    Slowly Catherine nodded, and something terribly sad flitted through her eyes.
    â€œMany years ago,” Catherine said. And suddenly her face crumpled with the onset of tears.
    â€œSenora?” Antonio asked, alarmed.
    â€œOh! I just remembered—I need to ask the caterer something.” Catherine