Louisiana 08 - While Passion Sleeps

by Shirlee Busbee

  Beth's heart seemed to stop as she waited tensely for Rafael's answer, fearful and angry at the same time. If Nathan chanced to guess who this tall, intimidating man was... Unaware that she did it, her eyes clung to Rafael's dark face, a plea shimmering in the violet depths.

  The second Nathan approached them, Rafael had brought under rigid control the fierce emotions that had erupted when Beth had smiled warmly at her husband and spoken of him with such odd tenderness. The furious inner battle was not apparent to the others, but Rafael was more than aware of it, infuriatingly conscious that instead of smiling politely and greeting Nathan with sophisticated charm, he wanted intensely to slit the man's throat—and abduct his wife! lUogically enraged with Beth for being the cause of this ugly conflict, he fleetingly considered being as disagreeable as possible. But the silent appeal of her lovely eyes stopped him and, not even thinking about it, reacting instinctively to the entreaty in her gaze, he found himself saying blandly, "Yes, as a matter of fact there was a particular reason—your tailor, I must have his name! I was just telling your"—he stumbled over the word— "er—wife, how much I admire the cut of your coat."

  Nothing could have been more calculated to please Nathan, and, a gratified smile spreading over his face, he said with pleasure, "Oh, well, thank you very much! I firmly believe that a really good tailor is essential, and I would be most happy to give you the fellow's name. He is very clever, I must say." An anxious expression suddenly appearing on his face he added, "You do realize that he is in Natchez? I'm very much afraid that you would have to go to him, rather than the other way around."

  Rafael smiled lazily. "Of course. How could it be any other way? As soon as I saw your coat, I knew it had to have been made east of the Mississippi River."

  In stunned amazement, Beth stood between the two men, her pretty mouth nearly falling open in shock as Rafael continued to speak about the latest in men's fashion as if it were the overriding passion in his life, much to Nathan's evident enjoyment. Fortunately nei-

  ther of them expected her to add to their conversation, and her astonished silence went unnoticed by Nathan, if not Rafael. As Nathan happily displayed the lilac satin lining of his frock coat, Rafael sent Beth a sharp look from under his heavy lids, the gray eyes taking in with quick amusement the staggered expression on her face.

  Sebastian's arrival a second later seemed to shake Beth from her trancelike state and she breathed a cautious sigh of relief. It was highly unlikely that Rafael would say anything too awkward in front of Sebastian ... at least she desperately hoped that he wouldn't.

  If Beth had been astonished by Rafael's seemingly insatiable interest in the intricacies of masculine grooming, Sebastian was clearly astounded. When he discovered that the subject of the earnest discussion between the two men was the superiority of boot blacking mixed with champagne over more mundane concoctions, he could hardly contain himself. Nathan's burning absorption in clothing was no surprise—but Rafael?

  Sebastian liked a certain style and elegance as well as the next man, but there were limits, and as the discussion shifted to the question of whether a primrose-figured silk was perhaps "just a trifle busy" for the lining of a formal black velvet jacket, he found Rafael's apparent interest in the topic ridiculous. His cousin dressed impeccably when in company, but he had never before realized that someone he had thought of as the last person to harbor the yearnings of a dandy, had a deep and fervent interest in the tiniest detail of presenting one's self as properly and stylishly attired.

  Guessing the trend of Sebastian's disdainful thoughts, Rafael groaned inwardly. He must be every kind of a fool imaginable to prate this foolish bit of flummery simply for a plea in a pair of deceitful violet eyes. But it served the purpose, he decided reluctantly. Nathan was completely disarmed, and it had given him the chance to take his measure of the man. Rafael's assessment of Nathan was not flattering, but, having actually met English's husband at last, he began, he thought, to understand her predilection for the arms of

  other men. Nathan was a weak, foppish creature, more inclined to worry over the welfare of his wardrobe than his wife, and Rafael startled himself by feeling faintly sorry for English. Perhaps she was not as black as he had first presumed, he mused. Suddenly inordinately curious about their life together and not certain why, Rafael started casually questioning Nathan about Briarwood and Natchez. And Nathan, enjoying himself hugely, much to Beth's dismay was very happy to babble on about the plantation and Beth's exemplary management.

  Naturally uneasy with Rafael and Nathan together, Beth attempted at least half a dozen times during the next twenty minutes to change the subject or pry Nathan loose, but nothing would deter him. He was, it seemed to Beth, determined to reveal, except for the most intimate details, every facet of their life in Natchez, from her experiments in crop rotation to his gambling and jaunts ''under the hill." She was equally determined that Rafael find out as little as possible about them, but Nathan innocently defeated her at every turn, and Rafael displayed, she thought angrily, an almost indecent engrossment in events that were none of his affair. As they all joined Dona Madelina and Don Miguel in walking into the hacienda for dinner, Beth was sickly aware that there was little of her life that Rafael didn't know about.

  Seated in the spacious dining room, she shot Rafael a wary glance, wondering what he thought of Nathan's revelations and why he had acted as he had—so easily could he have betrayed her or made Nathan suspicious about their relationship, but he hadn't. Instead, deliberately, she was positive, he had charmed and disarmed her husband, and that knowledge did little to lessen the tight knot of apprehension that clenched painfiilly in her chest. Rafael's lean face gave her no clue, but she surprised a lazily assessing gleam in his eyes that made her uneasiness increase. What was he up to now?

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Rafael's thoughts would have astonished Beth had she been privy to them. For the first time in his entire life he found himself nonplussed, but his state of mind had little to do with what he had learned from Nathan. Rather it was his reaction to Nathan that perplexed him and disturbed him. He had never before hated a man on sight, not even Don Felipe, nor had he ever seriously considered stealing another man's wife. Yet this evening, behind a cool, polite face, he was doing both, and it made him edgy and angry.

  Women had never meant a great deal to Rafael, partly due to his Comanche upbringing and partly due to the lack of any stable relationship with a woman. He had never known a mother's love, and his marriage had certainly not engendered any affection for women within him. As far as he was concerned women served two purposes: They gave a man physical pleasure and they bore children. Beyond that they had little value to him. He had never kept a mistress for more than a few weeks, nor had he ever pursued a woman; too many of them displayed an eagerness for his bed that he had found distasteful. There had been several married women amongst those who had known the devastation of his desire, but their husbands had never aroused any emotion in him but contempt... until now. Until he had met the husband of the woman who had haunted his thoughts more than he would have cared to admit.

  His violent reaction to Nathan Ridgeway unsettled him, that and the fact that whenever English was referred to as Nathan's wife he longed to rip out the speaker's tongue. He could not even think of her as Beth— Beth was Nathan's wife, but English was his! And the

  thought of her lying in Nathan's arms filled him with such rage and pain that his mind went icily blank, unable to accept the idea that another man had a right to that slender white body, that another man had claim to her love.

  What made her different? he asked himself angrily, staring obliquely across the table at her blond loveliness. He'd known women as lovely before—perhaps not quite as lovely, he amended slowly, admitting to himself that there had never been one with hair like hers or eyes of that incredible shade of violet, nor possessing a body that was so exquisitely perfect from the top of the small fair head to the soles of the slim arched feet. But the
other women in his life tead been lovely too, lush, lovely, passionate creatures who had clung to him and ardently returned his caresses until he had grown weary of them and their demands upon his time. But not English. She had resisted him from the beginning. Rafael remembered without humor how she had refused to look at him when he first strode up to Stella intent upon learning the name of the entrancing creature at her side. An ethereal creature with eyes like sparkling amethysts and sun-kissed moonbeam hair who had made his heart, until then a most reliable organ, suddenly leap painfully in his breast the moment he had caught sight of her across the shifting expanse of the Costa ballroom. And what had she done? Almost wrathfully he recalled that she had ignored him and smiled at some hovering gallant, arousing within him a savage desire to lift the young man's scalp.

  But it wasn't her resistance to his physical attractions that had given rise to the queer emotions that swirled and twined through his veins, nor, he confessed reluctantly, was it the memory of that silken body writhing under his. Passion and resistance had nothing to do with a violent urge to protect and cherish. .. .Rafael, who had never experienced those feelings, had done so the night of the Costa soiree and was doing so now, and it bewildered him as much as it infuriated him. Why her of all women, for God's sake! he wondered furiously. She was a slut—he knew that for a certainty; she betrayed her husband at every turn and ensnared

  unwary, romantic young men like Sebastian at the first opportunity. And yet—his long-hpped mouth twisted bitterly—and yet, dear God, he wanted her as he had never wanted anything in his life. Angrily he took a deep drink of the potent red wine that was served with dinner and stared with resentment at Beth's averted head as she turned to speak with Sebastian. How dared she disturb him this way! Deliberately he fed his anger and fury, reminding himself cynically over and over again of the incidents that proved his opinion of her wicked character. By the time the meal had ended, Rafael had managed to convince himself that he actually hated the sight of Beth Ridgeway and that his only interest in her was the fact that she had a beautiful body. Reducing his emotions to simple lust didn't allow him to banish her completely from his thoughts, but it at least let him think that he had overcome a momentary weakening. No woman was ever going to find her way into his heart!

  Rafael's introspection had gone practically unnoticed diu-ing the meal, although Sebastian had glanced at him once or twice, curious about his sudden silence. Sebastian himself was not quite in his normal high spirits, his conversation with Beth slightly stilted upon occasion, especially whenever he chanced to find Rafael's speculating gaze upon them.

  Sebastian had dreaded his next meeting with Beth, but despite his heartache and disillusionment he found it not the painful ordeal he had thought it would be. It helped enormously that Beth was completely unaware of his newfound knowledge, and after the first few uncomfortable moments Sebastian discovered to his surprise and delight that not a great deal had changed between them. Beth treated him as she always had, teasing him gently and smiling charmingly at his light banter, and if she appeared a bit distracted at times he put it down to the strain of maintaining an unruffled calm when one's husband and lover were seated side by side at the same dining table. But in spite of the ease with which he had quickly reestablished their association, he was more than happy to see the meal end,

  needing more time to come to grips with Beth's involvement with Rafael.

  Nathan, Don Miguel, and Dona Madelina were the only ones that truly enjoyed the evening, and they were the only ones unaware of the tension in the air that increased as the evening drew near its end. Nathan should have been aware of it; more than that, his instincts that had served him so well in connection with Sebastian seemed to have deserted him when confronted with the first real threat to his future happiness.

  Nathan had recognized Sebastian's infatuation almost immediately, but while he considered Rafael San-tana to possess an urbane cl)^rm, he found him not at all to his liking once the first burst of pleasure at find ing someone who shared his passion for dandyism had passed. Rafael was too dark and vital for his taste, those startling and enigmatic gray eyes made him uneasy. His instincts did not let him down on one point though: Nathan sensed the power underneath Rafael's air of sophistication, and the streak of ruthlessness that lurked not too far from the elegant surface of the other man. And because he found Rafael's aggressive maleness faintly intimidating, because he didn't think the lean, powerful face particularly handsome, he made the mistake of assuming that a woman would feel the same. It never entered his head that he had just dined with the man he had feared most would one day appear in Beth's life. A man who could steal her heart away before she even realized what had happened.

  Beth herself hadn't realized it either, but as the time approached to make the announcement that she and Nathan were departing in the morning, she was conscious of a strong reluctance to do so. Her reluctance had nothing to do with outfacing Rafael, but it did have everything to do with the knowledge that she was leaving him and might never see him again. She could chastise herself endlessly for being a weak-willed spineless creature where Rafael was concerned, she could remind herself over and over again of her marriage vows, but nothing seemed to help lessen the pain engendered by the thought of never seeing him again. She was torn

  by her duty and vows to Nathan on one hand and what she feared was her only chance for love on the other. That she even considered the possibility of love in connection with Rafael Santana, she knew was foolish, but she couldn't pretend that there was not a tenuous thread of emotion between them, a thread she would have given much to be able to spin into something stronger and more enduring. But she dared not. Nor, she admitted with anguish, could she close her heart to her marriage and Nathan.

  Beth had hoped that Nathan would introduce the subject of their departure, but he appeared to be waiting for her to do so. And as the hour grew late and still she had not mentioned it, she was aware of the question in his eyes whenever they chanced to meet hers. Finally, knowing she could put it off no longer, knowing that leaving Rafael behind was the only sane path left open to her, as they were sipping a last glass of wine before retiring, she forced herself to say brightly, ''Oh, what a marvelous visit this has been! Nathan and I shall be very sorry to say good-bye to you when we leave in the morning. You have been so very kind to us that we shall think of you a great deal on our journey back to Natchez."

  There was a moment of silence, silence that to Beth seemed fraught with danger, and then there was the sudden babble as Don Miguel and Dona Madelina both expressed their regret and the wish that the Ridgeways would stay longer. Resolutely Beth resisted their entreaties, Nathan coming to her rescue by stating blandly that they simply had to leave in the morning.

  Sebastian remained silent at first, uncertain whether he would be happy or miserable to see Beth leave. He decided after a second's thought that it was probably for the best. Compelling himself to smile naturally, Sebastian said with forced cheerfulness, 'T'm sorry that you cannot avail yourself longer of my cousin's hospitality, but do not be at all surprised if later this year you see me in Natchez. After I have seen to all the legal documents pertaining to my ownership of the lands Rafael and I inspected, I will be returning to New Orleans to buy various supplies. Perhaps while there I will travel

  up the river and pay you a visit. That is, if the invitation is still open?"

  Nathan halfheartedly assured him that it was, and with more warmth in his voice informed the Santanas that if they were ever east of the Mississippi they must make Briarwood Plantation one of the places that they visited. It was all done very politely, everyone voicing the polite things one does when a departure looms near—everyone, that is, except Rafael.

  His body had stiffened when Beth had made her announcement and a hard glitter had entered the smoky gray eyes. He waited until most of the regrets and invitations were through and then, slowly putting down his snifter of brandy, he murfiiured, "How very convenient!" His narrowed ey
es on3eth's face, he continued, "I too have reason to be riding into San Antonio tomorrow morning, and with your permission will accompany you."

  Beth's tongue froze to the roof of her mouth and her heart began to thump. She had known she ran a risk in defying him and that he might take retaliatory action, but not even in her wildest imagination had she thought that he would insist on going with them to San Antonio. She realized now that it would have been far safer to remain at the hacienda with the others about than to put herself in the position in which she now found herself. Once the hacienda was out of sight, except for their servants, she and Nathan would be alone with him, and for one fleeting, chilling moment, she remembered Consuela's death. Had he arranged that? And did he hate her so much that he was arranging for history to repeat itself? She couldn't or wouldn't believe it of him, but she certainly did not want him escorting her and her husband back to San Antonio.

  Nathan, however, had no such qualms and blithely accepted Rafael's invitation. "Oh, that would be splendid! It is always pleasant to have someone who knows the country traveling along."

  Rafael bowed and said smoothly, "Good. And being as how I presume you will be staying a few days in San Antonio, I hope you will do me the honor of accepting the hospitality of a house I have there."

  Beth would have rushed in with a refusal, but Sebastian's surprised comment cut her off. "You have a house in San Antonio?"

  It was Don Miguel who answered. A testy note in his voice, he said, "His Grandfather Hawkins left him a sizable estate when he died a few years ago, and included in it was the house of which he speaks." Turning to Nathan, he added, "I had thought to suggest that you might like to stay in a small house we have on the outskirts of San Antonio, but my son has forestalled me. You will like his house just as well, though—it is a very nice house, senor, I think you would find it much more comfortable than a hotel."