Looking at him filled her with rage, and it was all she could do not to stalk across the courtyard and denounce him. To think she'd been sorry that she had stabbed him! Her eyes glowed with that same fierce, feral gleam Ollie had seen. I wish I'd cut his throat! she thought vengefully.
That she was hiding behind anger and rage never occurred to her, any more than it had occurred to her to doubt Carlos's story. It was so wonderful after days of pining and feeling miserable to be able to hate the person who had captured her heart so underhandedly. To have a reason to treat him with disdain, to have all her earlier suspicions confirmed, was like a healing potion.
The remainder of the fiesta dragged for Sabrina, because her thoughts were so taken up with the coming confrontation. In a state of anxious anticipation, she waited impatiently for the moment in which she could unmask Brett Dangermond as the scoundrel he was. And yet, when that moment was finally upon her, she was struck by a sudden deep desire to say nothing. She didn't want to see her father's disillusionment . . . nor could she bear it if Brett tried to brazen out the situation and denied Carlos's story.
But Carlos would not let her retreat, and urging her forward, he was there at her side when she said to Alejandro, "Father, after the guests are gone, there is something important that Carlos and I must discuss with you."
His heart sinking, fearing that Carlos had convinced her to marry him, Alejandro said reluctantly, "Must it be tonight?"
Sabrina would have thankfully seized the postponement, but Carlos was taking no chances. His face determined, he said, "No, Tio, it will not wait! It is imperative that we speak tonight."
Sighing, Alejandro muttered, "Very well then. After the guests are gone, I will meet you in the library."
Sabrina nearly cried out in protest, not wanting the room where she had so nearly given herself to him to be the place where Brett's sordid and ugly past was laid out before her father. But Alejandro was already walking away.
When the actual moment came, it was nothing like Sabrina had expected. For one thing, her father seemed disappointed and displeased with her, and yet, when Carlos said quietly, "Sir, it is about your nephew, Brett Dangermond, that we must talk," Alejandro seemed to relax and appeared almost relieved.
"Oh?" he said mildly. "What has that young devil done now?"
"It is appropriate that you should call him a devil," Carlos said pompously. "For it is as Devil Dangermond that I first met him!"
Slightly mystified, Alejandro remarked, "You've met him before? That's v/hat you wanted to tell me? And he was going by that ridiculous nickname of his?"
Carlos looked annoyed. "No, that is not what I wanted to tell you!" he snapped irritably. "When I was in New Orleans two years ago, I met him there, and"—his voice lowered portentously— "/le was aligned with, actually working for, the notorious smuggler Frenchie!"
"Oh, that!" Alejandro said lightly. "I know all about it."
Her mouth open, Sabrina stared at her father. "You know about it?" she almost squeaked.
Alejandro nodded his head. "Of course. I was in New Orleans that summer, too, and I saw Brett then." Carelessly he added, "He told me all about it one evening when we had dinner together." There was a tap on the door just then, and after a nod from Alejandro, Sabrina went to open it. Her eyes went cold with dislike when she discovered Brett standing there. "What do you want?" she demanded ungraciously.
Brett quirked an eyebrow at her. "Bad mood, sweetheart?" he teased gently.
Hearing Brett's voice, Alejandro said, "Come in, Brett, come in. You should find this interesting."
Suddenly wary, remembering what had happened, or nearly happened, in this room, Brett entered. Seeing Carlos standing by the green velvet couch, he instantly guessed what was going on.
A smile on his face, Alejandro said with amusement, "We were just discussing your smuggling days."
"Oh, were you now?" Brett murmured easily, his eyes on Carlos's rigid face.
Sabrina came to stand next to Carlos, her face outraged and perplexed, and she asked her father, "Doesn't it bother you? I mean he was smuggling! And working with one of the most notorious smugglers in New Orleans!"
In a very good humor now that an announcement of their marriage wasn't forthcoming, Alejandro eyed Sabrina and Carlos fondly. "Oh, I don't let things like that bother me, my child. Besides, Brett has explained it all, and there was nothing shameful about it. Quite the contrary—it was very brave and noble of him."
"Noble!" Sabrina choked, staring at her father as if she had never seen him before. The fury she felt glittering in the amber-gold eyes, she shot Brett a look that should have felled him where he stood. "That is noble?" she spat scathingly. Turning back to her father, she demanded, "What about—"
Carlos gripped her hand painfully and spoke smoothly to his uncle. "Well, I see that our fears were totally unfounded. I am sorry that we took up your time, Tic. Will you excuse us? I will say good night to Sabrina and be on my way home."
Alejandro waved them affably from the room, and in an instant Carlos had whisked Sabrina away.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The door had barely shut behind them when Sabrina turned wrathfully on Carlos. "What did you do that for?" she snapped angrily. "Why didn't you let me tell him about the poor girl in New Orleans?"
Glancing over his shoulder at the closed door and then putting a finger to his mouth, he motioned for her to follow him.
Indecisively Sabrina glared at the door and then at Carlos's retreating figure. Her features set in stubborn lines, she turned reluctantly and walked in the direction Carlos had taken.
When they reached the front courtyard, Carlos stopped and looked at her. Heavily he said, "It is obvious that your father is completely within Dangermond's control." When Sabrina appeared unmoved by that statement, he added urgently, "Don't you see, I couldn't let you say anything about that girl—he wouldn't believe us. He might even think that we had made up the entire tale, that we were maliciously trying to discredit Dangermond in his eyes."
A mutinous expression on her face, Sabrina retorted hotly, "My father would never believe such a thing of me! But it's a risk I'm willing to take. He should know immediately just what sort of monster he has embraced!"
"I, too, want your father to know the truth!" Carlos said quickly. "But Sabrina, I don't think we can convince him right now of anything detrimental." His expression earnest, he complained bitterly, "You saw how lightly he took the news of Dangermond's involvement with the smugglers! Don't you see—Dangermond has won him over entirely! He will believe no wrong about him, no matter what we say!"
Some of the fury dying out of her face, an unhappy curve to her mouth, Sabrina muttered bleakly, "What are we going to do? Let him increase his power over my father? Let him continue to deceive him?"
"No, no, of course not!" Carlos replied adamantly. "But we must bide our time, querida. And while doing that, we must do our best to protect your father from himself." Looking at her keenly, gauging the effect of his words, he said quietly, "You must watch this Dangermond and make certain he does nothing to cheat or trick your father. You must tell me everything that you learn, and together we will defeat this devil and save your father from his evil influence." Comfortingly he pressed her hand with his, his dark eyes full of compassion. "I will not let you fight this battle alone. Do not worry, my dear, now that we know Dangermond for the scoundrel he is, we will be able to circumvent whatever dastardly schemes he may plan. As for the incident with the unfortunate creature in New Orleans ..." He hesitated and then said slowly, "I think we should say nothing more about it. It will be our secret, and when the time is right, we will face Dangermond with it in front of your father."
Miserably Sabrina agreed, seeing the wisdom of Carlos's words and yet uncomfortable with the situation. The thought of conniving against Alejandro with Carlos made her even more uncomfortable. Gloomily she said, "I never dreamed the day would come when I would find myself on opposite sides from my father." Uncertainly
she bit her lip and then asked almost hopefully, "Don't you think we should try once more to convince my father of the truth?" Earnestly she added, "We don't know what that devil has told him—perhaps he lied about things, told my father only part of the truth. It may be my father doesn't really understand the full extent of Dangermond's actions. If we told him about the girl—"
"No!" Carlos retorted so sharply that Sabrina looked at him in surprise. He sent her a slight smile. "Not yet, querida. I know you are impatient, but you must trust me. When the time is right, I shall know it, and we will strike." His voice harsh, he went on, "Dangermond is clever—for all we know, he has already told your father some lying tale about the girl. He might even have claimed that /was the one who disfigured her and that he was the one who saved her!"
Her face filled with revulsion, Sabrina clenched her hand into a fist. "That contemptible swine!" she said heatedly. But then a puzzled expression flitted over her features. "He can't have done that, Carlos," she said slowly, thoughtfully. "If he had, my father would have said something to you about it . . . don't you agree?"
Carlos shrugged. "It's possible, but who knows what your father is thinking these days." Throwing her a grim look, he continued, "But I must warn you to be prepared for Dangermond to pull some sort of trick like that."
Her mouth tight, she replied gruffly, "I will be on my guard! Dangermond will not blind me as he has my father!"
Rather satisfied with the night's events, Carlos was able to take his leave of her a few minutes later with an almost light heart. There was even the faintest suggestion of a smile on his lips when he rode away from the del Torres hacienda.
Sabrina certainly wasn't smiling, nor was she satisfied with the evening's revelations. She was acutely miserable. The man she loved was a blackguard, and her father trusted him.
Alone in her bedroom, still wearing the lovely azure silk gown, she lay on her bed staring blankly at the ceiling overhead. If only Brett had never come to visit them. If only she had never seen him again, never fallen in love with him. She gave a bitter laugh. If only I loved Carlos, she thought suddenly, then none of this would matter so very much. It wouldn't hurt so deeply to hear that Brett Dangermond is a monster.
No, that wasn't true, she admitted honestly. Alejandro's unwavering admiration and affection for a man she knew to be an unscrupulous villain troubled her greatly. How could her father dismiss Brett's smuggling activities?
She knew that smuggling was a common practice in New Orleans; she was aware also that many people in that area considered it almost a respectable pastime. It was also true that many law-abiding citizens had regular business dealings with certain smugglers, but from what Carlos had said, it was apparent that this Frenchie was definitely not one of those. From Carlos's tale it was obvious that Frenchie was a true criminal, one of the lowest kind, a man capable of all sorts of wickedness—and Brett Dangermond, "Devil" Dangermond, had been his confidant.
It didn't seem possible that her father, so honest and fair, so very honorable, could easily forgive a man for doing the ugly things Brett must have done as Frenchie's trusted lieutenant—and yet it appeared he had. Heartsick and disillusioned, as much because of Alejandro's apparent culpability as the knowledge that the man she loved was nothing but a rogue, Sabrina felt her eyes fill with tears. Angrily she blinked them back. I will not cry, she vowed through gritted teeth.
She took a deep, shuddering breath, forcing herself not to dwell on her own unhappiness. At least, she thought bleakly, she was on her guard now. She would have to be the wise one in this situation. As Carlos had said, Alejandro was completely in Brett's power, and it was up to her to save him—somehow she must find a way to protect her father from Dangermond's wicked influence.
For a moment, thinking of Carlos and what he had said that evening, her unhappiness abated and she was suffused with a rush of warmth and affection. How eager Carlos had been to help, she reflected fondly. He had said that together they would defeat Dangermond, and together they would! she thought with growing confidence, her heartache easing just a little. She wasn't alone anymore—Carlos would help her!
She was too young and inexperienced to realize that she might be the one who needed protection. She and Carlos saw each other nearly every day, Carlos made sure of that; and any wavering or uncertainty on Sabrina's part was quickly and ruthlessly squashed. Repeatedly he counseled her to beware—Dangermond was an obvious fortune hunter. Her mind listened intently and absorbed his warnings and hints of even darker deeds, but her heart . . . her heart resisted, and she was torn by the fierce battle that raged within her.
At first it was simple to let anger rule her head, and during the weeks that followed the fiesta, she treated Brett with ill-concealed contempt. Protective of her father, suspicious of every move Brett made, she guarded Alejandro like a tigress with cubs. Every suggestion Brett made was met with a barrage of questions and mule-headed resistance on Sabrina's part. Particularly anything to do with the sugar cane project. Carlos had warned her repeatedly when they met at the gazebo that Brett was probably using the sugar cane scheme as a way to swindle a fortune out of Alejandro, and consequently she fought bitterly against it.
Her attitude toward Brett did not go unnoticed by the men in the household, that and the jealous way she dogged Alejandro's footsteps. Brett chose to be amused by her antics, finding it far safer to have her greeting him with hostility than with her nearly irresistible charm. He was annoyed, though, having guessed correctly that Carlos had a hand in her actions, but then he dismissed even that emotion—he was not going to let himself get involved with Sabrina del Torres!
For the most part Alejandro, too, was amused by Sabrina's attitude, and like Brett he was also annoyed and just a little worried. It wasn't like Sabrina to take someone in such sudden, inexplicable dislike, and it was hardly the frame of mind needed for her to fall in love with Brett. The meetings with Carlos at the gazebo had not been missed by Alejandro either, nor the fact that Carlos seemed to spend an inordinate amount of time at the del Torres hacienda these days. Too many afternoons he and Brett returned home to find Sabrina and Carlos laughing and talking on the patio as they drank tall glasses of sangria. The fear that Sabrina was falling in love with her cousin could not be dismissed, and coupled with her dislike of Brett, it dismayed Alejandro.
He was dismayed on several counts, not least of which was the fact that the de la Vega finances had not improved in the months since Sabrina's birthday. The full extent of their money problems had been made apparent to him when recently he had lent his brother-in-law a sizable sum to help the family during their time of trouble. The loan didn't worry him, but Carlos's attitude did.
Alejandro had always known that Carlos was spoiled —as the youngest child, he was his mother's pet and his father's pride. Often Alejandro had chided both Luis and Francisca for the way they pandered to and coddled Carlos, but it had never really bothered him. Of course, he had never seriously thought that Carlos would one day be his son-in-law either! It was not a pleasant reflection on Alejandro's part. One evening when Carlos joined them for dinner, he surreptitiously compared the two young men sharing his table. Seeing the lively humor that danced in Brett's jade-green eyes, as opposed to the hint of malice that occasionally flickered through the black eyes of Carlos, Alejandro shook his head disgustedly. How could Sabrina possibly choose Carlos over Brett? It was totally incomprehensible!
The weeks and months that followed the fiesta which introduced Brett to the neighbors and friends of the del Torreses were curious times. No one at the hacienda v/as deeply unhappy, and yet no one was particularly pleased with the atmosphere either. There was nothing that could be pinpointed as a problem, but there was a feeling of tenseness, of unease and concern, that seemed to permeate the air they breathed. Life was serene and untroubled on the surface, but underneath it was rife with a wide variety of violent and often conflicting emotions.
Brett began to spend more time working with the men who were
busily clearing the forest, and Alejandro viewed his accomplishments and dedication with a mixture of admiration and frustration. The scheme of growing sugar had been only an excuse to invite Brett to visit, and to see that young man throw himself into the project so wholeheartedly made him feel just a trifle guilty. He was pleased with the work being done, but he would have preferred that Brett spend some of his time wooing Sabrina. The important thing was that Sabrina and Brett fall in love. With Brett slaving all the daylight hours in the widening areas of cleared land and Sabrina spending languid hours with Carlos, how could that come about? As the days passed, Alejandro's hopes for a marriage between his daughter and the man of his choice grew dimmer.
Had he been privy to Brett's dreams and Sabrina's thoughts, Alejandro wouldn't have been so downcast. Sabrina might have had frequent dealings with Carlos, but she was in no danger of losing her heart to him. He was her cousin and her friend, nothing more. And as far as she was concerned, he never would be anything else to her despite his efforts to change the relationship between them.
In the beginning, numb and unhappy, Sabrina had only listlessly countered Carlos's amorous advances. As April gave way to May, and May faded into June, she found herself growing more and more annoyed and ill at ease in his company. She didn't like the position she was finding herself thrust into more and more. Nor was she ever really comfortable with repeating to Carlos conversations that she had either had with Brett or overheard between Brett and her father. There was something so very sneaky about it.
The Tiger Lily Page 18