Louisiana 08 - While Passion Sleeps

by Shirlee Busbee

  Old Abel Hawkins's house in San Antonio rang with the laughter of guests these days, as the Mavericks, Juan Seguin, a Mexican aristocrat who had sided with the Texans in their war for independence, and his family, Jose Antonio Navarro, another Mexican who had done the same, as well as the slim, steely-eyed Jack Hays and other prominent members of San Antonio came to call and visit. There were meals held al fresco on the spacious grounds at the rear of the house and riding parties to fill the days, the ladies taking Beth to

  their hearts, the gentlemen finding Rafael a man with a great deal of charisma when he chose to display it.

  Beth bloomed like a slender, white rosebud opening eagerly to the warm sunlight. Slanting her an appreciative glance as they returned one day from an early morning ride, Rafael decided he had never seen her in such looks. The violet eyes sparkled with pleasure, the alabaster skin glowed with vitality, and even her slender shape seemed to have blossomed, her breasts seeming fuller, her hips more alluringly rounded in the slim-fitting riding habit she wore. His eyes stopped their interested appraisal as he felt himself harden with desire and, looking at her lovely face to keep his mind off the delectable body that haunted his nights, he noticed a slight frown marring her forehead, a frown he had noticed more than once the past three days or so. Frowning himself, he asked abruptly, "Is anything wrong? Has the heat been too much for you?"

  Beth sent him a strained little smile. "No. It is just that I am not feeling too well this morning and I should probably have remained in bed instead of coming on this ride."

  Senora Lopez, who was of course chaperoning them, examined Beth with concern. "You are not sickening with another attack of the fever, are you?" she asked worriedly.

  "No, Fm certain of that. It must be just a little upset stomach from all those deliciously spicy dishes I have been eating lately," Beth replied easily, and eager to change the subject, she said quickly, "Oh, look at those lovely pink flowers over there on the hill! What are they?"

  Easily diverted, Senora Lopez looked in the direction of Beth's pointing finger and said, "Those clumps there? That's mountain pink, they're quite common in this area."

  The conversation went on from there, and for the rest of the day Beth was careful to keep her expression carefree and to act as if she hadn't a worry in the world. But unfortunately it was all a clever performance, because she very definitely did have a worry.

  Alone in her room that night, she sat on her bed 421

  biting her lower lip and tried to remember the exact date of something that shouldn't have slipped her mind. Not since Nathan's death, in March, she thought with a queer little flutter in the region of her heart. She'd had too much to concern her these past months to keep track of such a simple natural thing as her body's womanly functions, but now, thinking of the queasiness that had attacked her the last five mornings in a row, she was forced to think about it. Not since March, she thought again, torn between a rising thrill of excitement and sheer terror.

  Slipping from her bed and lighting a small whale-oil lamp, she walked over to stand in front of the cheval glass mirror. With trembling hands she lifted the fine lawn nightgown she wore and, laying it aside with wondering eyes, she examined her slender body. No doubt about it, her breasts were fuller, and she had noticed already that some of her gowns were too tight in the waist. There were no other outward signs to prove or disprove her growing suspicions, her stomach as flat as ever... but weren't her hips just the tiniest bit wider, almost as if already they were accommodating the growth of...

  Unable to complete the thought, with shaking fingers she slipped her gown back on, put out the light, and scrambled back in bed. She was just being foolish! Just because April, May, and part of June had passed without— She cut her mind away to something else, fighting the obvious conclusion and yet aware of a warm feeling of wonder.

  The next morning she was embarrassingly and thoroughly ill and could not deny the evidence of her own eyes and mind. She was going to have Rafael's child!

  With a mixture of joy and horror, Hke someone in a daze, Beth allowed Manuela to dress her. The thought of having a child of her own was a rapturous one until reality intruded and shattered her growing exhilaration and pleasure.

  What in Heaven's name was she to do? Tell Rafael immediately? Nervously pacing her room that afternoon, she decided the answer to that question was nOy and for two very good reasons. They had come so far

  these past weeks in their relationship with one another that she wanted nothing to disrupt it. No matter what eventually happened, she was determined the outcome would be based on their feelings for one another, not the advent of a child. If she told him and he instantly offered marriage, she would never be quite certain whether it was because of the child or because he had at last fallen in love with her. There would always be a nagging doubt about his motivations. And if she told him and he didn't offer marriage...

  Strangely enough, the disgrace and social disapproval she would face never gave Beth a qualm. All her worries and fears centered around the father of her unborn child. What would he think? And God in Heaven, when or how was she to tell him?

  It was a long tension-fraught day for Beth. At least a half a dozen times she almost threw caution to the winds and requested a word alone with Rafael and told him. But, wanting desperately to be loved and married for herself alone, if he even offered marriage, she held back, ril wait another week, she decided anxiously as she lay in bed that night. Then if nothing is changed between us Fll. .. what? Tell him and take my chances or slink away like a beaten dog to lick my wounds'? She found no answer in her fevered twistings and turnings, and the next morning there were purple smudges under the violet eyes and a shadow in their depths.

  Despite the signs of a restless night showing in her eyes, Beth looked lovely as she entered the dining room wearing a becoming gown of black dimity with bell sleeves. Staring at her as she greeted Senora Lopez and then turned to smile good morning to him, Rafael felt pulses leap and his entire body respond just to the sight of her. It was such exquisite torture to have her so near him, to have her smiling and laughing with him, to have learned so much about her and yet be denied the one thing that was missing from their relationship with each other. A platonic man I am not, he thought sardonically as his eyes unconsciously caressed her lips and breasts, and he knew that no matter what he had promised he wasn't going to be able to keep his hands off her very much longer.

  As a matter of fact, not more than several hours longer, as it turned out. He hadn't deliberately planned it, but it happened that he and Beth were alone that evening as they walked in the moonlight near the creek at the rear of the house, Senora Lopez busy with her needlework in the front salon.

  Rafael had noticed the faint air of strain about Beth and, remembering the frowns of the past few days as they walked companionably in the silver light of the moon, the creek gurgling pleasantly near their feet, he asked abruptly, "Are you happy here, English?"

  Beth looked up at him in surprise, her thoughts on their unborn child and the j^nowledge that she must tell him sooner or later. Honesty compelled her to answer, "I am not unhappy here, but—" Her eyes darkening with pain, she finished, "I have to admit that San Antonio will always hold unpleasant memories for me. Nor can I forget that my... that Nathan was killed here."

  Rafael muttered something violent under his breath. Nathan was one subject that they avoided, partly because Beth could not bring herself to explain her odd marriage and partly because Rafael still couldn't control the fierce jealousy that surged through his body whenever he thought of the years that Nathan had known her sweetness and the many nights of tender passion the other man must have experienced in her arms. But her answer disturbed him on a more immediate plane and frowning he inquired, "Don't you like the Republic?"

  Glad to have the subject changed slightly, she replied easily, "Some of it. Especially the pine forests. When we traveled through them I thought they were so cool and inviting."

  Her a
nswer pleased him and, an odd glitter in the smoky-gray eyes, he asked, almost demanding, "Could you make your home there?"

  It was for Rafael very thin ice, and if Beth hadn't been so distracted by the certainty that she was carrying his child, she might have realized it and pressed her advantage; but as it was, the significance of his question passed her by. Abstractedly she said, "Oh, I

  suppose so. Anywhere can be home if one wants it to be."

  They had stopped their perambulations near a tangled mass of greenery that hid them from the house, and both stood staring silently for some seconds at the silver sparkle of the water in the moonlight. Each was lost in thought, each vacillating on the edge of decision, and almost simultaneously they both turned to the other, intending to speak.

  Taking her courage in both hands Beth looked up at the dark lean face above hers, the moonlight hiding the expression in the gray eyes and intensifying the harshness of his features. ''Rafael... I'm—" She stopped, unable to make such an announcement without any warning. Swallowing with difficulty, she sought anxiously for some beginning that would allow her to lead up to the subject of the baby gradually, something that would give him an inkling of what was coming.

  She was very beautiful in the moonlight, her eyes appearing purple and mysterious, the fair hair picking up the rays of moonlight that spilled over them and the words that he had been going to speak died in his throat at her sheer loveliness. His eyes locked compulsively on the soft mouth just below his and, not thinking, like a man in a daze, he pulled her into his arms and his mouth unerringly found hers.

  It had been madness to kiss her, and he knew it the moment his lips touched hers, for the passion that had been so rigidly suppressed these past weeks suddenly exploded through his body and he was blind to anything but the soft, yielding shape in his arms. His arms tightened around her, crushing her breasts against his chest and forcing her hips hard against him as his mouth urgently explored hers, his tongue hungrily tasting and devouring the sweetness to be found between her lips.

  Beth gave herself gladly to his almost brutal embrace, relishing the nearly painful pleasure of having his arms crush her to him, the ache of desire that swirled through her body as his mouth continued its almost savage attack against hers. Savage and yet not savage as his lips moved from her mouth to her eyes to her mouth again and then dropped lower to teasingly kiss

  the tops of her breasts showing above the low-cut gown she had changed into for the evening.

  If Rafael had longed to have her in his arms again, so had she longed to be there once more, again to know the sweet torment of his possession, again to feel that tall, hard body take hers and give her again the wild passionate release that only he could. He had taught her body the joy of passion, and she as much as he had yearned for the intoxicating kisses and the hungry joining of their bodies that they had shared in the past.

  On her own accord her arms clasped ardently around his strong brown neck, her body arching up against him as they strained nearer t6 one another, desire flicking through their veins, each as lost to their surroundings as the other. Even when his searching hand freed one breast and began to caress it, Beth was blind to everything but the fact that his mouth was on hers and that his body was pressed sensuously next to hers. Through their clothing she could feel him hard and throbbing with desire, and with something like frustration she unconsciously curved her body even closer, driving Rafael nearly insane with the need to lose himself in her silken flesh.

  Senora Lopez's voice calling them from the house was like a dash of icy water, and Rafael was uncertain whether to thank the woman or march over to her and strangle her on the spot.

  Lifting his mouth from Beth's, he shouted back, '"We'll be right there. Senora Ridgeway was just admiring the creek in the moonlight."

  Feeling she had done her duty, Senora Lopez turned away and, with a smile, went back to her needlework. Ah, to be young and in love, she thought dreamily.

  Silently Rafael straightened Beth's dress, his fingers lingering on the soft breast as he pulled the gown over it. Glancing down at her flushed features, he said thickly, "It's just as well she called, because if she hadn't, in another minute I would have tumbled you on the ground and proven to myself that I am not the eunuch I have played these last weeks."

  Her body still on fire for his, Beth could only nod weakly, wishing rather shamefully that Senora Lopez

  had waited several minutes longer before interrupting them. Sighing as much for the lost opportunity to tell him of the child as for the abrupt and unsatisfactory end to their lovemaking, Beth walked with him to the house.

  Several of the men from Enchantress, along with a lengthy report from Renaldo, arrived the next morning just as they were finishing the morning meal. Rafael excused himself, explaining that he would probably be busy for the entire day—could the ladies amuse themselves? Beth welcomed the respite, glad of the unexpected chance to have several hours to herself in which to collect her increasingly jumbled thoughts.

  Rafael was both pleased and displeased by the arrival of the men from Enchantress—pleased about the progress Renaldo wrote of and displeased that it interrupted his time with Beth. It proved, as he had suspected, to be a busy day for him. He had to order supplies, implements, and miscellaneous items that Renaldo had requested. There was even more to be sent out this time than the first because now, with the men's quarters completed, their familes would be joining them. It proved to be a long, exhausting day for him, and it was almost dusk before he returned to the house.

  The day had stretched endlessly before Beth once Rafael had left the house, and for a few minutes she wandered uncertainly from room to room before deciding to enjoy the warmth of the morning sun before the day grew too hot. Leaving Senora Lopez to her seemingly endless needlework, Beth walked outside and sat down in a comfortable chair at the edge of the rear courtyard, her body half-shaded by a huge, old cotton-wood tree. Blankly she stared down at the creek where she and Rafael had walked the previous night, her thoughts very much on the child and the need to make some final decision. I'm such a coward, she mused angrily. Just tell him! When he comes home this afternoon, ask to see him in the study alone and tell him. It would be so easy. It was what she should do, she knew, and yet her heart wanted the reassurance of his love—first! Not afterward, if it came at all. Even now, in spite of the growing bond between them, she wasn't

  certain of the depth of his feehngs, and she dreaded the possibihty that her confession would bring back the snarling, sardonic man who had greeted her that dawn at Cielo. He might love her—her heart believed that he did—but then again, he might just want her body. It was a depressing thought, one that she instantly dismissed.

  She sat there for quite some time. The day was becoming hot and, deciding to seek the coolness of the house, Beth had just risen to her feet when she heard the sound of many horses at the front of the house and the sound of several voices. Paco's she recognized, but not the harsh autocratic bark^of the other, and then she thought she heard Don Miguel's voice as if he were soothing and attempting to placate someone. Apparently it did no good, because the harsh voice broke out in an impassioned denunciation in rapid Spanish that Beth couldn't follow, only the tone. Senora Lopez's voice was heard briefly too, but she was drowned out by the curt commands thrown out by the hard voice.

  Curious, she made her way to the house and wasn't at all surprised to be met by Senora Lopez, an expression of vexation and anxiety on her face.

  "Ah, Senora Beth, come quickly to the front veranda!" the Spanish woman cried distractedly when she saw Beth.

  Wary and just a little uneasy, Beth followed the other woman, not hurrying and yet not exactly dragging her feet either. Entering the main hall, she became aware of the bustle that seemed to have overtaken the house as two maidservants with harassed expressions scurried up the stairs, four menservants quickly following them with what looked suspiciously like her trunks. She stared up after them in amazement for a second and then
turned her gaze toward the front of the house.

  The white double front doors were open to their fullest extent, with Paco, a sullen expression on his usually smiling face, standing somewhat helplessly near the entrance. Looking out across the wide veranda Beth was startled to see a veritable cavalcade of mounted Spaniards.

  As her bewildered gaze traveled over the dozen or 428

  so men, she recognized only Don Miguel, appearing embarrassed and uncomfortable, and Lorenzo, a pleased expression on his dark face. The others were all strangers, all well-armed vaqueros.. .except one—the slim, aquiline-nosed old man in the center of the group.

  Astride a magnificent black stallion, the saddle and bridle artfully worked with silver that glittered and sparkled in the hot sunlight, he sat on the restive, spirited animal with all the arrogance and pride of a conquistador. His black sombrero was heavily embellished with silver embroidery work, as well as the ruby cloth chaqueta and the black calzoneras he wore. Wicked-looking silver spurs jutted out from fine leather boots, and the hands that held the reins of the big stallion so effortlessly were covered in black leather gloves.

  Self-importance and superciliousness fairly radiated from him, and haughtily he stared back at Beth, making no move to dismount, to greet her, or even to politely doff his sombrero in acknowledgment of her presence. The lined and seamed face still bore evidence of the strikingly handsome man he must have been once, but it also showed cruelty and selfishness in the curve of the thin mouth beneath a slim drooping mustache and the set of the arrogant chin. His eyes were black, black as ebony, and showed as much emotion as a reptile's as they moved insolently over Beth's slender shape. In a heavily accented voice he demanded in English, 'Tou are the Senora Ridgeway?"

  Beth stiffened, liking neither the tone nor the way his eyes traveled over her, assessing her as if she were an animal to be bought. Nor did she like being questioned by rude strangers. From Paco's sullenness to Don Miguel's uncomfortable expression and the fact that no move was being made to dismount, it was also apparent that this overbearing creature had refused to enter the house. Treating him with the same contempt he did her, she nodded curtly and asked crisply, "And you— who might you be?"