But he pushed away the shameful thought. Princes aside, there was no mistaking the affection and respect that had begun to grow between Gloria and her husband. It was obvious to anyone with eyes—and Evan’s powers of observation were his stock in trade.
“We do think he is serious,” Fremont said, his arms around his wife, when it was clear she could not yet speak. “I have already suggested the dawn train and a fast escape, but Gloria, being a woman of principle, has not taken me up on it.”
“But surely you will not allow her to—”
The captain held up a hand. “I do not think the word allow comes into this situation at all, Mr. Douglas.”
Balderdash! This simply could not be allowed to happen. He spread his hands in appeal. “Gloria, you must see sense. Only a madman would force a woman to marry him in exchange for an order he could give perfectly well as a single man—a prince.”
She took a ragged breath. “He is not mad. He is young, and idealistic, and perhaps he has lived too long in the shadow of powerful men. He wishes to kick off the traces with an unsuitable marriage, as many a young man before him has done. I am perfectly capable of seeing sense on my own, Evan. I do not need you to inform me of it.”
She was in an impossible position. He knew that. She spoke the truth. He knew that, too. And still the words burrowed deep into his heart, hurting him as surely as his own betrayal had hurt her. “What—what answer will you give him?” he croaked, his throat thickening.
“That is what we must decide,” the captain said, his arms tightening about her once more.
If Evan had not been convinced before that Gloria was learning to care for her husband, his powers of observation clinched the matter. For she laid her head upon his shoulder and clung to him as though he were her last refuge on this earth.
Ella and Joe leaned into one another on the bed. Evan looked from one couple to the other and wished he had never come down here with Joe. He ought to have sought out Isabela for a walk in the gardens. To request her assistance in locating an apothecary to discover the ingredients in the Viceroy’s evening tincture. To do anything but stand here like a homeless stork incapable of finding a mate.
He forced himself to speak over the pain of a loneliness he had always been able to keep in check with work and study. “We have three options, then. In the first, Gloria accepts the Viceroy’s hand, becomes the Vicereine of this kingdom, and—”
“And ushers in a new era of transportation, commerce, and prosperity that does not involve imaginary caches of gold.” Gloria straightened, but did not leave the circle of her husband’s arm.
“Very commendable. Anything else?”
“Education for girls and the children of the poor.”
“A difficult prospect to pass up.”
“Quite,” the captain said dryly. “Fame, fortune, and philanthropy in one fell swoop.”
“How is the army going to feel about that?” Joe asked. “To say nothing of the man who commands it. We still have not heard anything of Ambassador de Aragon’s whereabouts, and I’m sure that can’t be good.”
“I have asked myself that same question,” Gloria agreed. “The moment he hears of this scheme, he will stoop upon us breathing fire and will no doubt promptly have me assassinated.”
“On the contrary … I understand that you are the one breathing fire and raining destruction,” Evan offered. “That is, if Commander de Sola’s dreams are to be taken into account.”
Gloria stared at him. “What on earth do you mean?”
“He dreamed you were walking in the desert, looking for something the Viceroy had lost. We believe it to be his power. In any case, you went from being a witch dressed in a most unladylike manner in a layered skirt and a man’s waistcoat, to a fire-breathing iron dragon that burned him up with one blast.”
“Dear me.” Gloria looked quite taken aback. “My mother would have been appalled were she still living.”
Ella slid from the bed and crossed to the trunk. After a moment of rummaging through its contents, she drew out a ruffled, multilayered cotton skirt and a brown herringbone waistcoat similar to one Evan himself had once owned. “Like this?”
A chill tiptoed across Evan’s shoulders that had nothing to do with the window at his back, or with his previous feelings of guilt and horror.
It was the chill of premonition. Of certainty. Of the realization that de Sola dreamed true.
Somehow, some way, Gloria was to be instrumental in bringing down this kingdom. But please … please … let it not be as the Viceroy’s wife.
Chapter 4
“Yes. Exactly like that,” Evan said after a moment.
But of all today’s revelations, Gloria could not help but feel this was the least of them. Who could think of dragons when weddings were much more imminent, dangerous, and terrifying?
“You said three choices,” she reminded him. She must put aside the fact that Evan and Ella had got her into this pickle and force them to think their way out of it. “Of course the second would be to flee—which the captain will endorse wholeheartedly.”
“It solves my most pressing concerns, though not the long-term ones,” he agreed.
“So the third is …?”
Evan hesitated, and a flush colored the thin cheeks that had been so pale. “I do not believe it is your destiny to flee. Your third choice, then, is to—er—put the lie to what the Viceroy believes about your marriage.”
Gloria froze for a moment before the hysterical urge to laugh overcame her completely. “Evan!” she gasped. “I cannot believe you just said what I think you said.”
“What did he say?” Ella wanted to know, folding the clothes back into the trunk. Joe whispered something in her ear, and understanding gave way to delight. “Of course! That would solve everything, wouldn’t it? Once the examination is completed and the proof discovered, there is nothing anyone can do, and you are free.”
“Proof?” the captain said sharply.
“Examination?” Gloria said at the same time.
“Why, yes. All the noblewomen have to have it, to prove they are virgins before marriage. Though,” Ella amended, “you would be proving the opposite, in this case.”
“Ella Maria Balboa, how on earth do you know such things?” Gloria demanded. The entire subject made her feel ill—to say nothing of speaking in such intimate detail in front of gentlemen.
“From talking with the women, of course. There are no secrets at fiesta, and with Esperanza dancing so openly with the heir to Carmel, of course it came up. Some of the most old-fashioned ladies believe that vigorous dancing or riding or anything but sitting and serving chocolate can affect the results of the examination and put a marriage in jeopardy. Of all the silliness I ever heard.”
These things never came up at balls in Philadelphia.
“Never mind.” Gloria’s cheeks burned. “I will not be subjecting myself to such an examination. If the Viceroy does not accept my word, he can—can—” She bit back an epithet at the last moment.
“So this is the path you choose?” her husband asked. “I have no objections, of course, unless it is to the fact that our relationship is being bandied about this room in a most unsettling manner.”
At least he was being a gentleman about it.
“What will be the Viceroy’s reaction to not getting what he wants?” Joe wanted to know. “If he flies into a rage, he can have the lot of us thrown in gaol—or off a cliff into the sea.”
“He could,” the captain acknowledged, “though that is hardly the way to garner support for his plans with the nobles.”
Try as she might to see another option, Gloria could not. And though it mortified her to speak of her wedding night in terms of a political gambit, physical defiance seemed their only course. “I think we must take the risk,” she said slowly. “If nothing else, we will have lost nothing we would have otherwise lost on the dawn train, and we will be together, and not fugitives.”
“We?” Stanford looked d
own at her. “The five of us?”
“Yes … you and I in particular. We will simply do what we can from behind the mountains. We will be disgraced and probably banished there, but I shall not count that as a loss.”
“Not by a long shot,” her husband agreed. His tone was light, but in his eyes she saw the dawning realization that she did not mean for them to be separated. If she had to face public humiliation in order to remain at his side—beginning with this blunt and unladylike speech in front of Evan and Joe—then she would do it.
The Viceroy might deprive her and her friends of many things, but she would not be deprived of her wedding night, delayed as it was.
“We may depart together, disgraced or not, but not for long,” Evan said. “I must return to the dam, and see to its destruction. Commander de Sola has kept his word and issued traveling papers, as well as the offer of a wage. I have one other thing to regret in this venture, and that is that I must betray him, too, to achieve the greater good.”
“He will pay you to destroy the dam?” Ella’s eyebrows rose in astonishment.
“He does not know we plan to do that,” he told her, clearly mustering a smile with difficulty. “He is paying me to operate el Gigante, which is a step up from being marched across the yard under pain of a whipping to do the same.”
“How do you plan to do it?” Captain Stan asked. “We’ve had a look round the fort since the construction began, and you’ve got a job ahead of you.”
“Between Barnaby and Dutch and I, we’ll see to it,” Evan said. “I don’t want to say too much in case—” His eyes held misery. “My tongue has been loose enough, and has endangered those I care about. I can only make amends and protect you all by saying less and doing more.”
“Hear, hear,” the captain said with what Gloria thought was admirable civility. “I suppose if my wife is not to be Vicereine, it will not matter that this will be viewed as an act of war, will it?”
When no one spoke, Gloria said quietly, “It seems that events will move forward in spite of our best efforts to prevent them. I hope you do destroy the dam, Evan,” she said with sudden ferocity. “It is our best hope of all the hopes I came here with. The witches’ lives and homes will be saved, and this wretched country can go to the—er, can manage its own future without our help.”
“But what of the Texicans—the invasion?” the captain reminded her.
“I don’t know,” she was forced to admit. “Perhaps I shall return to Resolution and see if the mechanicals are still there. If so, I shall sell them to the Rangers immediately, tell them what to do with them, dust off my hands, and go home.”
“And if they are not there?” Evan asked.
“Then the last two actions still apply.”
Joe got up and held out a hand to Ella. “I’m for the dam, too, but not before I escort Ella here back to her family and mine.” He glanced at Evan. “That should give you time to get the plan back under way.”
“Escort me—what?” Ella said. “I’m staying with Gloria.”
“There is no need to separate. We will travel back to the river as a party,” the captain said. “I’ll give Riley the word to make ready to leave on the noon train. If Gloria gives the Viceroy her regrets early in the morning, we can be on our way immediately afterward. Mr. Douglas, you are welcome to accompany us as well, at least as far as the crossing point at Nuestra Senora de los Angeles.”
“I would appreciate that. Safety in numbers, you know. I will say my good-byes in the morning to Commander de Sola. And to Senor de la Carrera. And his family.”
To Gloria’s amusement, he blushed, but she forbore to make the same kind of remarks to him as they had all been making about her own relationship. They must remain united. To do that, she must forgive and forget.
Though at the moment, the former seemed much more possible than the latter.
When Evan had taken his leave and returned to the hacienda, and Joe and Ella had gone for a walk on the grassy slopes above the mission, Gloria found herself alone with her husband at last.
He drew her down upon the bed, which was the only place the tiny room boasted where one could sit aside from the whitewashed windowsill. “I hope that was not too painful for you,” he said. “I confess that even I was shocked at Mr. Douglas’s third solution to our difficulties—mostly because I wish I had thought of it myself.”
“I am sure you would have come around to it in time,” she assured him, leaning in such a way that it seemed natural he should slide one arm about her shoulders. “Though I am very glad I had already decided upon the same course.”
“Had you?” Mischief glinted in his eyes—and something deeper. Warmer. Something that made the blood beat through her veins in anticipation. “And when were you going to inform me of this?”
“About now, in fact.”
To her immense satisfaction, he did not waste another moment on words. And when Ella and Joe returned at sunset, they found the door locked and received no reply from within.
“Oh, he’s going to be so angry.” Ella handed Gloria her bonnet, and tied its ribbons under her chin in a jaunty bow. “I do not envy you this interview.”
Gloria felt almost giddy from lack of sleep and from the unfamiliarity of her own body. She had been made anew last night—made a woman, a wife, and a lover, and no amount of princely anger or boyish blustering was about to put a dent in her happiness.
“You mean us,” she said, “for the captain believes that I ought not to see the Viceroy alone. Our whole party is to go. Riley took the message to Evan and Joe before breakfast, and will wait for us at the station with our trunks.”
“I am to attend the Viceroy as well?” Ella frowned down at her secondhand dress. “I had best change, then, and quickly. Can you do my hair? Oh Gloria, how I wish we could be painted!”
“As do I.” She helped her friend out of her cotton and into the black beribboned dress in which she’d gone to the fiesta, similar to Gloria’s own. “I should feel much more brave and competent. Isn’t it strange?”
Ella touched her cheek a moment before turning her attention to buttoning the tight bodice. “Not so strange. It is who we are. We hold the power of death. At least let us wear our roses, so we do not forget, and to give us courage.”
Ella had been forgiven, and in her exaltation this morning Gloria was willing to forget. They were sisters under the paint, after all, and sisters protected one another. Gloria pinned her roses to her bonnet, while Ella slid two of the silk blooms into the side of her own chignon and secured them. The two of them looked feminine and demure and betrayed their own capabilities to no one, not even those closest to them.
Perhaps, when they finally reached the Colorado Queen again, Gloria mused, she would allow Stanford to remove the roses from her hair, one at a time.
The three of them made a silent party as they walked up the hill in the early morning light. The gulls circled and mewed around the fishing boats in the harbor, and the night chill still hung in the air though the sun had risen a little way above the horizon. Evan and Joe were waiting in the courtyard, and while Joe fell back to take Ella’s hand in a tight grip, Evan hovered, uncertain of his place.
His gaze, however, took in the hand tucked into the crook of Stanford’s arm. “You will make a statement immediately if you enter on his arm,” he said quietly. “Are you prepared to do so?”
“I am,” she said firmly. “I should take yours, too, if we could fit through the door.”
“That might say something altogether different.” At least she had surprised a smile. “If Ella does not mind, I shall guard your backs.”
Evan proved to be right.
When they were ushered into the Viceroy’s presence, it was to find him dressed as though he were meeting a foreign ambassador—complete with the royal sun and sash—and sitting by the fire, as before. A laden breakfast tray was set upon the low table, and Gloria saw immediately that it had been laid for two. A small nosegay of flowers lay next to a ri
chly engraved box of gold, the contents of which no doubt contained an engagement gift of some kind. So, he had made an assumption, and as he rose and she released Stanford’s arm in order to curtsey, she saw the moment when he realized he had made the wrong one.
“I was not expecting so large a party for so private an occasion,” the young man said stiffly. He did not sit, so they could not either.
“I appreciate your willingness to receive us, sir,” Gloria said. “The subject of our conversation involves more than simply you and I.”
“Does it, indeed?” His face became forbidding, remote … and Gloria got a glimpse of the man he might become twenty years from now.
If he lived that long.
For part of the reason for the bleakness of his countenance was its striking pallor. What had been pale yesterday looked positively gray today. His hands trembled, and even his hair seemed to have lost its luster. What could have happened between sunset and sunrise to have caused his condition to worsen so?
But that was not a question for this morning’s visit. Her task now was to provide an answer. “I first wish to assure you that I am honored beyond measure by your considering me suitable to be your wife, to say nothing of your Vicereine.”
“So you should be.”
The next sentence was checked upon her tongue before Gloria recovered and went on. “I wish nothing more than to be the instrument of your happiness, but—”
“Then do so.” He took a shuddering breath. “Send these people out of the room and make me the happiest of men.”
“—but I cannot change the choice my heart has already made,” she concluded softly. Defying all protocol, she crossed to him and took one cold hand in her own. “Some day, you will learn to care for someone as I care for my husband.” Her voice was pitched low, but Stanford’s ears were sharp. Her words were for both men, even if they were spoken only to one. “I would never want to stand in the way of your happiness—the kind of happiness I know now. I cannot leave my marriage, Felipe, not even for the glorious future you have promised me and your country.” She took a breath to steady herself. To say words that would be shocking in any other company. “It is consummated.”
Fields of Gold: A steampunk adventure novel (Magnificent Devices Book 12) Page 4