Louisiana 08 - While Passion Sleeps

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Louisiana 08 - While Passion Sleeps Page 9

by Shirlee Busbee


  "My, you're up earlier than I expected. I thought you would sleep until afternoon. Have the servants seen to everything you wanted?"

  "Oh, yes. And why should you think / would sleep till noon when you obviously have been up for some time?" Elizabeth returned with a smile,

  "Ah, but I had business, you see," Stella said mysteriously, the brown eyes twinkling with amusement.

  Guessing instantly what kind of business, Elizabeth's smile faded and she asked anxiously, "Business about last night?"

  "Yes. And do stop worrying. I called upon Margarita Costa this morning on the pretext that I had lost a glove last night, and in the process she and I had quite a little gossip about Consuela. I don't think you have much to worry about there! Consuela apparently didn't say anything last night, and if she were going to, then would

  have been the time to do it. Margarita was full of compliments concerning you, which she certainly wouldn't have been if Consuela had started any rumors." Looking very pleased with herself, Stella added, '1 also managed to convey, ever so politely, you understand, that for some unknown reason Consuela Santana took one of her noted dislikes to you, and that Margarita should ignore any tales Consuela might spread. Margarita has no love for Consuela either! So, even though Juan and I leave tomorrow, Margarita will help to weaken any poison Consuela might spout."

  "Oh, Stella, you are so good to me. I shall miss you very much. How dreadful that we should have such a brief meeting—I wish you were just beginning your visit instead of ending it!"

  Stella's face softened. ''I know, pet, I know. It does seem unfair, doesn't it? But don't worry. Juan and I will be coming back in a few years and besides, who knows—someday, you may come to Santa Fe!"

  With that thought in mind, it was almost with happiness that Elizabeth bid her friend farewell the next day. Nathan was at her side, having canceled an appointment with the tailor for the express purpose of meeting the Rodriguezes. Stella did not find him exactly impressive, but she could see that Nathan had a fondness for his young bride, and it gave her hope that all would be well with Beth.

  Riding back to their hotel, Nathan apologized again for not being able to meet the Rodriguezes earlier. '1 am sorry that I could not come for dinner and the soiree the other night, my dear. I do hope you forgive me! If only you had let me know earlier I could have made other arrangements."

  "Oh, that's all right, Nathan. I didn't mind, really. But it would have been much nicer if you could have been there," Elizabeth replied honestly, still unable to think of that disastrous soiree without a guilty quiver and just a little fear.

  His gray eyes kind as they rested on her face, Nathan murmured lightly, "Perhaps it was better I wasn't with you. You and your friend... er... Stella must have had

  plenty of time to gossip and giggle, and you did not need a husband hovering in the background."

  Elizabeth returned a determinedly cheerful comment, finding herself reluctant to discuss further her visit with Stella or what had transpired. And Nathan, surprisingly perceptive, gathered as much and politely changed the subject. They had a delightful luncheon together in a quaint little restaurant that he had discovered and then strolled back toward their hotel. Glancing at his watch, Nathan said with surprise, "My word, it is gone two o'clock and I am to meet a fellow at two-thirty about a racehorse that interests me. I know you must think me a very casual sort of husband, but would you mind very much if I left you to your own devices the remainder of the afternoon—and," he added with a guilty countenance, "most of the evening?"

  Almost glad to have several hours of her own, Elizabeth agreed easily enough. "No, you go on, Nathan. I may go for a carriage ride about the city later with Mary, but other than that I think I shall enjoy resting a few hours in my room. Will you be very late?"

  "I don't really know. Apparently this horse is on a stud farm some distance from the city, so we may eat dinner at an inn along the way. I expect I'll be back sometime before midnight, though. Do you want me to wake you?"

  "No. I'll see you in the morning, then," Elizabeth replied quietly.

  Nathan escorted her to the hotel and a very few minutes later departed. Feeling inexplicably glad to see him leave, Elizabeth had discarded her charming straw bonnet and was relaxing in her hotel suite, leafing through a copy of Godey's Ladies Book, when she was interrupted by a private servant in a black-and-gold uniform. At first she only listened politely to his message, but her eyes widened when she heard of Consuela Santana's invitation for a meeting that very afternoon.

  Now, why? Elizabeth thought, perplexed. Why does she want to see me? Should I go? Or should I ignore it? She bit her lip nervously, staring blindly after the servant's departing figure. Perhaps it would be best, she finally decided.

  The address where they were to meet was unfamiliar to Elizabeth, but as she was a stranger to New Orleans it didn't concern her. She left a note for Nathan, stating briefly that she had been invited out to visit with'a lady she had met at the soiree she had attended with Stella. She told Mary the same thing and then, determined to convince Consuela Santana that there was nothing between herself and Rafael, she had the doorman of the hotel obtain a carriage for her.

  If the driver of the carriage was surprised that an obvious lady like his passenger wanted to be taken to the ramparts of the city, where the gentlemen of New Orleans kept their quadroon mistresses, his face did not betray it. Who knew the whims of the fancy? Still, when they pulled up before a charming little whitewashed cottage surrounded by a picket fence, he hesitated. "Um, ma'am, would you like me to wait for you?"

  Elizabeth, reassured by the well-kept appearance of the cottage and overall air of respectability of the area, sent him a confident smile. "Oh, no, that won't be necessary." She added with beguiling charm, "You see, I don't know how long I shall be, but I am certain the lady I am visiting can arrange some sort of transportation for me when I leave. Thank you very much, though."

  Shrugging his shoulders, he prodded his lazy bay gelding onward. Elizabeth watched him go with a sudden qualm. Perhaps she should have him wait. Consuela might not be as obliging as she assumed. But then, straightening her slim shoulders to nearly military erectness, she approached the door almost aggressively.

  Her knock on the door was answered by an unsmiling Spanish woman of uncertain age, and with a slight nervousness Elizabeth allowed herself to be escorted into a small drawing room. The entire cottage was not large, but it was tastefully furnished and, though on a reduced scale, everything bespoke money—money elegantly spent.

  A fine woolen carpet lay on the floor and gilt mirrors adorned the walls. Small, delicate, satinwood tables were scattered here and there, and two balloon-backed chairs,

  upholstered in a soft shade of pink, contrasted attractively with the Duncan Phyfe sofa of deep rose velvet. It was the woman seated comfortably on the sofa that reminded Elizabeth sharply that this was not just a polite visit.

  Her fingers tightening unconsciously around her reticule of Moroccan leather, Elizabeth said politely, "Good afternoon, senora. It was kind of you to invite me to meet you."

  Consuela, her dark eyes never leaving Elizabeth's small face, returned an appropriate comment indicating that Elizabeth was to seat herself in one of the chairs opposite the sofa. Elizabeth's courage, never very great, was rapidly disappearing. There was something so very intimidating about the still figure, dressed in a gown of dark ruby cashmere trimmed with touches of black lace, that Elizabeth felt as if she were facing the Inquisition. Consuela's black hair was parted in the center and pulled back smoothly into a chignon that lay on her neck. She wore little jewelry except for fine pearl earrings in her ears and several rings of obvious value on her fingers.

  The black eyes veiled, for several unnerving seconds Consuela stared at Elizabeth before saying finally, 'It was good of you to come, senora. I believe we have a great deal to talk about, but before we begin, may I offer you some refreshment?"

  Elizabeth's first inclination was to refu
se, but, thinking it might offend the other woman, she agreed almost effusively. "Oh, yes! That would be very nice!"

  Consuela reached for a small silver bell nearby on one of the satinwood tables, and from the promptness with which the servant, Manuela, appeared, Elizabeth had the impression the woman had been waiting just outside the room for the summons. She returned almost immediately with an ornate silver tray, making it apparent that Consuela had gone to a great deal of trouble for her guest. There was English tea freshly brewed in a porcelain pot and small cakes dusted with sugar, as well as a carafe of sangria for Consuela.

  Glancing unsmilingly at Elizabeth, she remarked, 86

  "I assumed that being English you would welcome tea, but if you prefer you may share my sangria."

  Consuela seemed in no hurry to open the conversation, and Elizabeth had nervously finished one cup of tea and was halfway through a second before she realized that the beverage had been brewed far too strongly and had a bitter taste. Nonetheless she sipped it thankfully—at least it gave her something to do while Consuela made what could only be called indifferent conversation.

  Growing more and more bewildered as the time passed and Consuela made no reference to her husband, Elizabeth finally managed to bring up the subject herself. Bracing herself and gathering her courage before it failed, the violet eyes steadily meeting the dark ones of the Spanish woman, Elizabeth said quietly, "Senora, I do not mean to be impolite, but I do not believe that you arranged this meeting for us to discuss the amenities to be found in New Orleans." An unencouraging silence met her words, and flustered by Consuela's lack of response she hesitated before valiantly plunging on. "I think we have skirted the thought uppermost in both of our minds long enough—your husband." Earnestly she said, "Please, senora, believe me when I say that nothing happened between us. Please, please believe me when I say that nothing occurred to—to shame you or to bring dishonor on any of us!"

  Beyond a slight stiffening, Consuela did not betray any reaction to Elizabeth's sincere little speech. The haughty face impassive, she replied levelly, "You are right. It is time that we spoke of the reason for this meeting. But before we do, more tea?"

  Impatiently Elizabeth declined, and feeling suddenly lightheaded, she swayed slightly in her chair. "No, thank you. Fm afraid that something I ate must have disagreed with me, and more tea will only compound the error."

  "Perhaps," Consuela returned with the barest suggestion of a smile. "But then again, the condition may worsen."

  Staring hazily at the other woman, Elizabeth shook her head as Consuela's form seemed to blur and become

  two shapes. "What, what...do...you mean?" she got out thickly, her tongue feeling as if it were covered in cotton wool.

  "Merely that the tea you have been drinking is laced with belladonna. And that in a moment you will discover exactly why I arranged this meeting." The words were said with such satisfied malice that Elizabeth, fighting to quell a wild surge of giddiness, was filled with terror. "Why?" she managed to croak.

  Consuela's thin, black eyebrows rose. "Why, senora? Very simply because I do not want Rafael to have dreams of you." Almost conversationally she went on, "He has had many women in the past ^nd they did not bother me. I do not care how many whores he takes to his bed, but I will not have him cherishing another woman's image in his heart."

  "Oh, but he doesn't!"

  "Perhaps not," Consuela went on ruthlessly. "But I intend to make certain. I have given it much thought, and there are many things about an incident that both you and my husband wish to make light of that has lain heavily on my mind." Her eyes blazing now with anger, she spat furiously, "Never has Rafael bargained with me! Never! And yet in order to buy my silence, in order that I should not cause you scandal, he has agreed to accompany me to Spain—something he has flatly refused to do for years, despite my pleas. And I wonder—I wonder why? And do you know what I decided, you pale little thing?" Consuela gave an ugly laugh. "I decided that he wishes to protect you. You have touched a part of him that no one ever has—not even I, his wife! For that reason I cannot ignore you the way I have his other women. Because of that I must do something to tarnish you, to make you mean nothing more than rfl the others he has known."

  "Oh, senora, you are wrong!" Elizabeth burst out in a shocked tone of voice. "We only met that one night and then only briefly—1 mean nothing to him, nothing! You must believe me!"

  "Bah! So you would say, but I think differently. And 1 intend to do something about it."

  Whether it was the drug making her so listless or 88

  her own inability to cope with such single-minded vi-ciousness, Elizabeth was never certain. At any rate, with a numbing sense of inevitability, she asked dully, ''Aren't you frightened of what I may do when I leave here? What my husband may do?"

  Consuela smiled and somehow that was more terrifying than anything she had said or done so far. "You will say nothing—and even if you were foolish enough to do so, who would believe you? Believe that someone like myself would be bothered by an insipid, absurd little creature like you? Besides, I have taken precautions," she retorted complacently. 'Tour husband was the easiest to manage. I assumed that like most young men he is only interested in horses and gambling, and I was right—as the fact that he was so easily lured away to view a horse attests. I merely had to mention to a distant relative of mine, who knows nothing of what I plan, that I thought I had heard that Senor Ridgeway was interested in purchasing such an animal. That they would meet in the small society of New Orleans was just a matter of time. But I even helped that to occur by discovering where your husband found his amusements and seeing to it that my relative found himself there at the same time. He is a foolish young man, much like your husband," Consuela said contemptuously. "And by now he will have forgotten that it was I who first mentioned Senor Ridgeway's name, and that it was I who suggested that he might find it pleasant to visit the particular coffeehouse that your husband has been frequenting."

  Her conceit and enjoyment of her own cleverness goaded Consuela to boast further, "As for my servant that brought the message? Piffle! He will say nothing— not if he values his skin... and those of his relatives in Spain!" Consuela smiled again, a very pleased, catlike smile. "You see, I have left nothing unplanned. My servants know the dangers of betraying me. As for the final member of my little plot, he is a very poor, and I should add, very greedy, illegitimate cousin from Spain, and he knows that if he were to breathe even just one word, that my generosity to him would cease. Besides," she added with obvious satisfaction, "Lorenzo will enjoy

  doing this for me, if only to spite my husband. So you see, even if you were fooHsh enough to speak of this, how would you prove it? Who would believe you? You are a stranger here, a stranger stopping for a visit, while I am connected to some of the most illustrious families in New Orleans. Your friend Estella Rodriguez might believe you, but she is miles from here by now. I have thought of everything, of that you can be sure."

  Repelled, her eyes wide with fascinated horror, Elizabeth got out, "What do you intend to do with me?"

  "Merely see to it that Rafael arrives here in time to find you naked in Lorenzo's embrace. Of course, I have left precisely what Lorenzo dpes with you up to him. You may even find his lovemaking enjoyable—according to him most women do."

  "You're vile!" Elizabeth spat thickly. "You won't get away with it. I'll scream and fight and Rafael will know that I am not willing."

  Consuela looked at her pityingly. "You are in no condition to fight anyone, and as for screaming, I imagine Lorenzo can manage to keep you quiet long enough for Rafael to see for himself the slut that you will appear. If you scream and protest afterward, it will look as if you are trying to excuse yourself."

  With sickening clarity Elizabeth knew Consuela was right. She was incapable of resisting anyone at the moment; the belladonna effectively weighted her body with lead. But she could try, and clumsily she attempted to lurch to her feet. It was a futile gesture that only poi
nted out how very correct Consuela's reading of the situation was. Mortified and frightened, Elizabeth fell back against the pink cushions of the chair.

  "You see?" Consuela taunted. "You are incapable of fighting anyone. Everything wiil go just as I planned."

  Before Consuela could say more, a well-dressed young man entered the room, walking across the floor with all the grace and arrogance of a conquistador. His dark, clever face and thin, smiling mouth revealed the same hint of cruelty that had lurked in his Spanish ancestors. The black eyes avidly surveyed Elizabeth's shrinking form, and in a heavily accented voice Lorenzo Mendoza murmured, "By the Virgin! Consuela, this I would do

  for you for nothing, if I did not need the money. She is lovely! I should thank you for providing me with an afternoon's sport. Such fairness! I shall take great pleasure in bedding your friend."

  Consuela's face showed her distaste for the subject, but she returned indifferently, '1 care little what you do with her. Just make certain that when Rafael arrives here, he finds you in a compromising situation." She rose from her seat, adding, "I must depart now, I will leave you to prepare the scene. Do not take too long, though, because just as soon as I return to the house I shall start the argument with Rafael, telling him what a fool is he to believe in a pair of English eyes, and that I have proof that this gringa bitch is nothing but a common adulteress. I do not think he will waste much time getting here."

  ''Do not worry—the only problem may be that Rafael will arrive after I have had my pleasure! She is much too lovely for me to resist for very long, so don't you waste any time telling him where he can find us."

  "Faugh! Your low blood is showing—you are a disgusting animal, Lorenzo!" Consuela muttered as she walked regally to the door.

  "True, mi primay but this is precisely why you chose me! Others might have caviled at such villainy," Lorenzo returned smoothly, the black eyes narrowing slightly and the thin nostrils flaring in obvious anger.

  Consuela sent him a calculating glance. "Do not take umbrage with me, Lorenzo! We both know of your appetite for women—willing or f/nwilling—and we both know that you would do anything for money."

 

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