by Diana Palmer
“Don’t you call me a twit!” she shot right back. “Who was it who told me to let that horrible little man do what he liked, all because you wanted a noble son-in-law?”
“Whist, and don’t you be talking to me in such a manner!”
Eduardo stepped between them when he heard Bernadette’s breath begin to rasp. “Arguing about an accomplished fact is a waste of effort,” he said calmly. “We have a wedding to arrange. My cousin Lupe is coming along with my grandmother to visit. She arranged a wedding for the Spanish royal house just recently and is familiar with protocol and tradition. She will take care of the details.”
“And I’ll pay for them,” Colston said at once. He looked relieved yet guilty. He stared at Bernadette as if he were looking for signs of upheaval. “In two months, you said,” he added worriedly with a pointed glance at Bernadette’s slender waist.
“How dare you!” Eduardo burst out furiously when he saw the speculative gaze.
Colston sucked in his breath. “My boy, I didn’t say a word!”
“She was upset, alone, hungry and frightened—chilled into the bargain! Even a scoundrel would hesitate to accost a woman in such a condition, least of all any decent man!”
“I apologize, yes, I do,” Colston said at once. “You must forgive an old man’s suspicions. I know better.”
“Yes, you do,” Eduardo said, a little less ruffled. He stared down at Bernadette. “I assume that the ball hasn’t been canceled?” he asked suddenly.
“Well, no,” Colston began hesitantly. “I wasn’t certain what to do when she didn’t come home,” he added stiffly. “I didn’t know you’d even found her. Anything could have happened. I was just about to call my guests together and make arrangements to send them home.”
“Unnecessary,” Eduardo replied. “Do you have a gown?” he asked Bernadette.
She smiled. “Yes. Papa sent me to town. It’s a Paris original.”
“The color?”
“It’s white,” she told him. “With pink silk roses and tiny blue bows.”
“How very appropriate,” he murmured. “The Ramirez betrothal bracelet is emerald-studded gold. And the ring is a single emerald stone, very old. I will give them to you tonight, at the ball.” He lifted her small hand in his and brought it softly to his mouth, kissing it warmly. “Until later, querida.”
CHAPTER SIX
WITH MATCHING EXPRESSIONS, Bernadette and her father watched Eduardo ride off. Neither spoke for a minute.
“I thought he wanted nothing to do with marriage to you,” Colston said stiffly.
She smiled to herself. “So did I.” She turned and stared at her father curiously. “He thought you’d decided he wasn’t good enough for me.”
“No!” he burst out, horrified. “Surely not!”
She relented when she saw the worry on his face. “It’s all right, Father. I told him that you never thought any such thing, and that you had a high regard for him.”
“Sure and that’s a relief,” he said, dragging out a handkerchief to wipe his sweaty brow. He glanced at his daughter. “He stayed away. I thought he was telling us in a nice way that he’d changed his mind about you.”
“Eduardo would never have done it in that way,” she said, mildly surprised. “He’d have come to you and told you if he had changed his mind.”
“I suppose he would, at that.” He put his hands behind him and clasped them as they walked. “How did the talk of marriage come about, then?”
“We were talking about the foreign visitors. He was angry that I ran away,” she added without saying why. “He said that if I have to marry a title, it can be his. He needs a loan and you need a titled son-in-law. This way, you both get what you want.”
His small eyes narrowed. “So we would. But what do you get out of it?” he asked suspiciously.
“What I want most in the world,” she said simply.
“And that is...?”
“Eduardo,” she replied with soft dignity. She turned toward the house.
He actually chuckled. “Whist, and isn’t that a story, when you’ve been like worst enemies for years! What happened out there?” he asked after a minute.
“Nothing very dramatic, I’m afraid,” she lied with a straight face. “He saved me from freezing. Maybe from dying. It was very cold and I hadn’t packed enough blankets.” She laughed. “He brought some.” She didn’t add that they’d shared them.
He looked different, almost guilty, and he wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Herr Branner and Signore Maretti left for the train depot shortly after you ran for the hills.” He stiffened a little. “I very much regret Herr Branner’s behavior. But he did seem interested in you, and Eduardo didn’t. But as God is my witness, girl, I never expected you to do something that dangerous and foolish.” He glanced at her and away again. “I hope you know that I’d much rather have Eduardo for a son-in-law. I respect him. He was rather formidable when he came to your rescue.” His features brightened. “By heaven, he was.” He chuckled, lapsing back into the familiar brogue. “Bristling with fury, and steam coming from his ears, he was. I never expected him to blow up like that on your behalf, girl. I suppose it’s not just my money that he wants, after all.”
She smiled shyly. “I think he does like me...a little. It’s no love match, as he says, but we have things in common.” Her gaze fell to the ground. “We’ll get by.”
Her father shortened his strides and sighed. “I know it isn’t precisely what you want, girl, a loveless match. But sometimes we have to settle for what we can get. Not all of us are lucky enough to find a love like I had with your mother.”
His face hardened as he said it, and Bernadette knew that the truce was over. She lifted her long skirts and, calling a brief goodbye, lit out for the kitchen and the safety of Maria’s company.
Maria was over the moon about the news.
“Oh, so furious, was el conde,” she enthused as she cleared a space on the table for the platter of meat she’d just cooked. “He stalked in here after he spoke with your father and the foreign gentlemen and when he saw that nothing was left from our meal, he said that he would go to town and get food to carry with him, because he knew you would be as hungry as you would be cold.”
“I was, despite what I took with me,” Bernadette said. She blushed. “I didn’t mean to cause so much trouble. I was very upset.”
“And so was el conde,” Maria added with a grin that showed her perfect white teeth. “Then, when you did not come home all night,” she added, “your father became very stiff and worried.” She shrugged. “I, of course, knew that the proprieties would be observed, whatever the situation. El conde is a gentleman, a man of quality. He would do nothing to stain your reputation.”
“He didn’t,” she agreed. “But it wouldn’t do for anyone to know that we were alone last night, so he is telling everyone that he took me to his home to stay with a cousin of his with whom I am friendly. This morning he brought me home.”
Maria grinned. “A lovely tale. And of course, no one will doubt it!”
* * *
SO MUCH FOR THAT OPTIMISM, Bernadette thought later, when she was standing at the doorway of the ballroom in her lovely new dress and dozens of shrewd eyes watched her with suspicion and faint contempt.
She stood beside her father, watching him fidget. His face was red and he looked completely out of sorts. Bernadette thought he was angry at her until she saw him glance at her with mingled concern and apology.
“There’s a scandal unfolding. That damned stable boy overheard us talking this morning,” Colston said through his teeth. “He told a vaquero, who shared it with his relatives. Another of them was relating it yet again when one of our visitors who speaks Spanish overheard. He told everyone else. They all know that you were out with Eduardo all night. I’m sorry, girl.”
She went red. Her impulsive behavior had destroyed her reputation. Eduardo might marry her, she might become respectable, but no one would forget that she’d staye
d out all night with a man to whom she wasn’t married.
“You hold your head up!” Colston said sharply when he saw her morose expression. “Sure and you’ve nothing to be ashamed of. Don’t you let them look down at you! You’re a Barron. You’re as good as anyone here!”
She wasn’t, and he knew it, but it was the first time he’d defended her in recent memory and it touched her.
“Thank you, Father,” she said.
He looked uncomfortable again. His eyes went to the doorway and he seemed to slump with relief. “He’s come, then.”
She turned and saw Eduardo, elegant in evening clothes and looking every inch the nobleman. He walked straight to Bernadette, without pausing to speak to any of the guests, and his smile was for her alone.
“You look lovely,” he told her, and lifted her hand very correctly to his lips. His head turned toward the assembled guests who were murmuring among themselves. He didn’t have to be told that their secret was now public knowledge. He smiled mockingly at his host. “This would seem to be the best time to make the announcement,” he told Colston. “Don’t you agree?”
“Indeed I do, my boy.” Colston walked to the band and requested silence. When he had the attention of his guests, he motioned Eduardo and Bernadette to join him. Eduardo gestured to his manservant hovering at the doorway with a velvet box in his hands.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I have an announcement to make! I wish to announce the betrothal of my daughter, Bernadette, to Count Eduardo Rodrigo Ramirez y Cortes of Granada, Spain, and the Rancho Econdido of Valladolid County, Texas. I hope that all of you will join me in wishing the happy couple all the best for their future together!”
There was shocked hesitation, then lukewarm applause, and then a roar of applause.
Eduardo and Bernadette exchanged ironic glances. He opened the velvet box his manservant was holding and withdrew a priceless antique gold-and-emerald bracelet which he clasped around Bernadette’s small wrist. That was followed by the heirloom ring, also gold with emeralds. Amazingly, it fit her finger as if it had been made for it.
She looked up at Eduardo, who wore an expression of surprise.
“A good omen,” he said for her ears alone. “It is said that the ring fits a Ramirez bride without adjustment if the match is a good one.” He lifted her hand and kissed the ring.
Colston shook Eduardo’s hand. His eyes were riveted to the jewelry Bernadette was now wearing. “I suppose you realize that she’s wearing a king’s ransom?” he asked softly. “Worth more than enough to restore your fortunes.”
Eduardo looked at him levelly. “These two pieces are all I have left of my father’s legacy,” he said quietly. “They were handed down from the ancestor who had them created from Bolivian emeralds in the sixteenth century for his bride. They carry a curse, that whoever dares to sell them will lose not only his fortune, but his life.” He smiled amusedly. “No one has ever had the nerve to test the curse.”
“I see.”
Bernadette was looking not at the jewels, but at Eduardo, her heart in her big, green eyes.
He looked down at her and saw her expression and his breath caught. He knew, he’d always known, her feelings for him. But now there was a difference in the way he reacted to it. He felt himself shiver deep inside at the hunger that rose like a dry heat in his loins and spread over him like fire. He averted his eyes before the emotion could kindle a visible reaction that would embarrass them both.
There was more applause and the visitors gathered around to see Bernadette’s ring and bracelet, no longer thinking of scandal when there was this juicy new bit of gossip to share with one another and take back to their homes.
“Why, this ring is magnificent!” Mrs. Carlisle said, grasping Bernadette’s small hand in her pudgy fingers. “It must be worth a fortune!”
“It is,” Eduardo replied, looking haughtily down at her. “But to discuss such matters in company is vulgar.”
Turning red with embarrassment, she cleared her throat and put a hand to her fake pearls. Obviously her background and her experience as personal social secretary to one of the Astors had faded in the rough society of southwest Texas.
“Mrs. Carlisle made the arrangements for the ball,” Bernadette said quickly, to save the poor woman any further embarrassment. “Didn’t she do a lovely job?”
The older woman looked as if she might fall on Bernadette with relief.
“The motif is, indeed, elegant,” Eduardo murmured.
Mrs. Carlisle’s pride was restored. She smiled at Eduardo. “If you require any help with the wedding...” she began.
He held up a hand and smiled to soften the rejection. “You are most kind. However, my cousin Lupe will see to the arrangements.”
Mrs. Carlisle looked concerned. “You do realize that even here a wedding of this sort will require a certain...elegance?”
He looked shocked. It went without saying that she was picturing a mariachi band and flamenco dancers. “My dear lady,” he said with faint hauteur, “Lupe is a highborn Spanish noblewoman who only recently organized the marriage of the king’s niece.”
The woman was all but stuttering. Her opinion of Latin people was so evident as to be embarrassing, but it changed again, immediately. “The king...of Spain?”
“Of course.”
“Then certainly she must know...must be quite adept...at such matters. You will excuse me? There is an old friend I must greet. Congratulations to you both!”
She was red-faced and all but running to escape putting her foot any farther into her mouth.
Eduardo watched her go with an elegantly raised eyebrow.
Bernadette’s fingers nipped the back of his hand.
He chuckled as he grasped them tightly in his own. “Already you think to correct my bad behavior, wife-to-be?”
“She isn’t as bad as I’ve made her out to be,” she murmured with a grin.
He couldn’t quite accept the change in Bernadette. They’d been adversaries for a long time, until just recently. Now she was so different that he wondered how they’d ever disagreed. She was poised and elegant and she looked lovely in the low-cut gown. He found himself remembering the softness of her breasts under his mouth, and he looked at them with pure pleasure. He hadn’t yet tasted her soft skin. He wanted to. Badly.
She saw where his eyes were trained and brought up an elegant silk fan in a small gloved hand to block his gaze.
“Shame on you,” she whispered.
He grinned. “Were you remembering, as well?” he taunted softly.
She colored and looked quickly around to see if anyone had overheard.
“Don’t you want to rap my fingers again?” he invited.
“You are going to make a very difficult husband,” she said.
“Only from time to time. And never at night.” He held up a hand when she looked near to an explosion. “There, there, I’ll reform.” He glanced around them. “Why were you the object of so much speculation when I arrived?”
“One of the vaqueros overheard us talking to my father this morning and told that we’d been out together all night. That dear soul told another,” she said sarcastically. “Then another and another until, apparently, someone felt obliged to inform the rest of our visitors.”
“Tell me the man’s name and I’ll have a little talk with him,” he said, glancing around with danger in his eyes.
“I certainly won’t,” she replied, fanning herself. “You can’t go around shooting people.”
“Bernadette, you wound me!” He put his hand over his heart. “Would I be so uncivilized?”
“Of course you would,” she replied without hesitation, snapping her fan shut to punctuate her words. “And my father would be horrified.”
“I suppose he would.” He caught her hand in his and drew her toward the dance floor. “I think they’re all waiting for us to begin the waltz,” he pointed out. He stopped in the middle of the ballroom and smiled down at her as his gloved hand insinuate
d itself around her small waist. “Are you up to this?” he asked gently. “Lungs not bothering you yet?”
She shook her head. “I suppose they should be, after the cold last night and all this perfume we’re surrounded by. But I feel quite well.” She smiled at him. “In fact, I feel as if I could float up to the ceiling.”
He drew her just a little closer and as the band began to play a Strauss waltz, he pulled her into the first wide steps with expertise.
“We’ve never danced together,” she said.
“I know. There never really was an opportunity. You dance very well.”
“I was taught at finishing school. You dance well yourself.” She let her feet carry her along to the rousing strains of the music, laughing softly with pleasure as they turned and floated together gracefully around the ballroom. “I suppose you learned as a boy,” she said.
He nodded. “It was expected. All the social graces, languages, fencing.”
“Can you really fence?” she asked, fascinated. “Could you teach me?”
He chuckled. “Why?”
“I’ve always wanted to learn. It’s so beautiful to watch. I went to an exhibition in New York City when I was in school. It was so graceful.”
“Your father would have a heart attack.”
“My father doesn’t have to know,” she pointed out. “After all, you’re not marrying him.”
“No, I’m not.” He searched her rapt features with more interest than ever. “What other accomplishments have you?”
“I can do needlepoint and knit and crochet,” she said. Her eyes danced. “And I can also ride a horse, shoot a rifle and discuss politics.”
“Useful skills in these parts,” he murmured drily. He whirled her around again and laughed as her eyes sparkled. “I like your hair that way,” he said unexpectedly. “You should wear it down more often.”