by Diana Palmer
“You, too.”
He put a lean hand on her shoulder and squeezed it gently before he rose and followed her father to the kitchen. He was going to make sure before he left that Maria would take care of his intended. Despite Colston’s reassurances, he wasn’t convinced that the man had his daughter’s best interests at heart.
* * *
EDUARDO’S BEHAVIOR AT THE BALL had lightened Bernadette’s step and given her hope for their future. But only two days later, her world shattered. Eduardo came with a buggy to get her and take her to meet guests who had arrived far earlier than expected—just the day before.
“My grandmother is here,” he told Bernadette and her father. He was stiff and very formal, as if the atmosphere at Rancho Escondido had already changed drastically. “She would like to meet my intended bride. I have promised to fetch Bernadette.”
“Well, of course she wants to meet her,” Colston said. “Get your bonnet, girl, and go with Eduardo.”
Bernadette needed no prompting. She was eager to meet the grandmother of whom Eduardo had so often spoken. Not that she wasn’t a little intimidated by the prospect, especially since Eduardo already seemed different.
Eduardo’s ranch was far from the familiar dirt road, back in a box canyon where mesquite and willow trees provided shade for a large adobe structure with hanging baskets of flowers. It was elegant and grand, with imported wood for the doors and shutters, and a porch that Bernadette had always loved, the sort of house she wished her father had built, instead of the Victorian horror he liked so much.
Eduardo helped her out at the front steps and gave the horse-drawn buggy to a servant to put away. He escorted Bernadette onto the porch and hesitated just before they entered.
“She is Spanish to her very toes,” he told her in a brittle tone. “She may be a trial to you at first. Be patient.”
“Of course.”
She went inside with him, down the grand hall with its elegant mahogany staircase, into a large room with heavy rosewood furniture and silk draperies. There was a Persian rug on the spotless wood floor that was obviously imported and very expensive. And there, on the rose-pink silk couch was a tiny white-haired woman in a black silk dress, looking at Bernadette as if she’d like to take a fire poker to her.
“This is my grandmother, the Condessa Dolores Maria Cortes. Abuela, my intended, Bernadette Barron.”
Bernadette started to extend a hand, but that stiff little woman never moved an inch. She inclined her head. She said nothing. Her eyes spoke for her.
Eduardo’s hand touched Bernadette’s lightly where it fell at her side. “My grandmother has only arrived from Spain and she is very tired,” he said firmly. “Besides,” he added shrewdly, “her English is not very good.”
The old lady gave him a glare that would have felled a lesser man. She sat erect. “My English is perfect,” she said in a voice that was only slightly accented. “I do not like the language, but I can use it!”
“As we see,” Eduardo replied. He stared at his grandmother until she shifted restlessly.
“You are to marry my grandson, Señorita Barron,” the old woman said tightly. “You are not Spanish.”
“My ancestry is Irish,” the younger woman agreed.
“My son broke with tradition and married an American girl,” the condessa said with blatant disapproval. “A butterfly with no morals and no sense of family or tradition. And you see the result!” She waved around her at the grand, but obviously worn, furniture and draperies. “She was a profligate. She spent my son’s money and drove him to despair.... She broke his heart.”
Bernadette felt immediately on the defensive. She clasped her hands together tightly at her waist and lifted her chin. “I am neither immoral nor heartless,” she informed the old woman. “I intend to be a good wife.”
One white eyebrow lifted. “Do you?” she asked mockingly.
Eduardo started to speak when a door opened and a beautiful young woman in a yellow silk dress swept into the room. She had startling black hair and eyes in a face like an angel’s.
“Eduardo! How lovely to see you again!”
She came forward in a cloud of heavy perfume, smiling—and ignoring the other two women present. The young woman rose onto tiptoe and kissed Eduardo full on the mouth, shocking Bernadette.
“Lupe!” the condessa exclaimed, outraged.
“Oh, do not be so stuffy, Tía Dolores!” Lupe chided. She clasped Eduardo’s arm tightly against her breasts. “I have not seen him for two years.”
“Lupe de Rias, this is my betrothed, Bernadette Barron,” Eduardo introduced the newcomer to Bernadette, his manner even stiffer and more formal than it had been.
“How nice to meet you, señorita,” Lupe said, but her eyes weren’t smiling. She went forward to offer a languid hand to Bernadette, smothering her in thick perfume and bringing on a violent coughing spasm.
Eduardo yelled for his servant and demanded coffee be brought quickly. He moved Bernadette away from the others and into a deep chair, kneeling beside her and clasping her hands tightly in his own.
“Breathe gently, Bernadette,” he said calmly. “Gently. It’s all right.”
“What is wrong with her?” the condessa demanded imperiously.
“She is an asthmatic,” Eduardo said through his teeth, because he hadn’t mentioned this affliction to his grandmother.
“Asthmatic!” The old woman got to her feet and walked to Eduardo’s side. “An invalid? What are you thinking? She cannot give you children!”
Eduardo looked scandalized. “You must surely be tired from your long journey. Why do you not let Lupe take you upstairs now? You need your rest.”
The condessa glared at him. “I am not tired. Look at her! She cannot even breathe! What sort of mistress will she make for the Rancho Escondido?”
“Will you please go to your room?” Eduardo asked, and this time there was a clear threat underneath the polite tone.
Unintimidated, the old woman folded her hands and looked down her nose at him. “Very well. I shall rest for an hour. But then you and I must talk.”
“Shall I stay, Eduardo?” Lupe asked. “Perhaps I could do something.”
“Lupe, it is your perfume that has brought on the problem,” Eduardo said gently. “I know it was not intentional, but it will only make this worse if you do not leave right away.”
Lupe wasn’t offended at all. She smiled. “Certainly. I would not want to worsen Bernadette’s condition. Poor little thing,” she added, all condolences. “What a shame, too, that she is so frail. Still, you will take care of her, yes? And the servants will help. Perhaps a good nurse as well, to watch over her when your duties demand your time?”
“Yes, yes, that might be a good idea, Lupe. Now, if you please?”
Lupe looked triumphant. “I shall help you find the right nurse for her. It will be my pleasure! But do you think we should go ahead with the wedding plans now? It might be prudent to wait a few months—”
“Now!”
Lupe shifted. “As you wish, of course. I’ll leave you, then.”
She went out, closing the door behind her.
Bernadette had heard the conversation but taken no part in it. She was occupied just trying to keep her breath. So that was Eduardo’s grandmother and cousin. The scorpion and the pit viper. She wished she had the breath to laugh. No wonder he’d been landed with a bride like Consuela. Those two conspirators had probably put their heads together and made him the worst match in the history of his family. He’d said that his grandmother favored his cousin Luis to inherit her wealth. Probably she’d gone out of her way to make Eduardo’s life difficult so that Luis would be the obvious choice and there would be no gossip about her decision.
She wondered why the old woman had come all this way, and why Lupe had been chosen to make the wedding arrangements. Well, Eduardo’s cousin and grandmother were in for a surprise. Bernadette wasn’t going to be led around by the nose, and she wasn’t going to
permit those two to destroy his life. They’d done all the damage they were going to be permitted to do. She looked at him through wet eyes and thought how drawn and worn he already looked.
She lay her hand gently against his cheek. He started, as if the gesture shocked him.
“Poor man,” she said hoarsely.
He scowled. His hand pressed hers closer. “Why do you say that?”
“Never mind.” She managed a smile. “Does Lupe bathe in perfume, do you think?”
He smiled for the first time in several minutes. “I think she must. Odd, I don’t remember her wearing so much in the past. But as she said, it has been two years.”
“She’s beautiful.”
“Indeed.”
Bernadette didn’t say anything. The servant came in with the coffee and she sat and sipped it until her lungs felt less constrained and she could breathe almost normally again.
“I don’t suppose you would like to stay for dinner?” he asked.
She studied his face. “I don’t think so,” she replied gently, because now that Lupe knew how that heavy perfume affected her, she’d put on even more of it for the evening meal. Knowing the enemy was half the battle. Bernadette had to search out some armor before she’d be ready to deal with this bunch.
“It’s just as well. They’re tired,” he added. “Come. I’ll drive you home.”
They started back toward the Barron ranch, but Eduardo pulled off beside a small stream under some trees and sat quietly for a minute, with the reins wrapped around the brake.
“Are you truly all right?” he asked her.
She smiled. “I’m fine.” She took a long breath. “See?” She searched his eyes. “And I won’t need a nurse,” she added firmly.
“I have noticed that your health improves when you and I are alone,” he replied, studying her. “Your father upsets you. So do my grandmother and Lupe. But none of them will live with us.”
She wondered if she should tell him her suspicions, that the women would plot to prevent the marriage. She decided not to. There was time for that later. Besides, Eduardo cared for her. He wasn’t going to let himself be influenced by his family, no matter how much he cared for them. That he’d followed his grandmother’s wishes and married Consuela was something she refused to think about.
“I’ll have Lupe start on the arrangements tomorrow. She’ll need a list of guests whom you and your father wish to invite. The ceremony will be held in San Antonio,” he added firmly, “at the Cathedral of San Fernando. There is no place here that will hold the number of guests we should anticipate. It will be a social occasion, a very grand one. You must have a gown that does justice to you, Bernadette. Lupe will get you one from Madrid.” His eyes slid over her slender body with delight. “Your fairness will be truly lovely in white lace,” he added.
“You don’t want to back out, while there’s still time?” she asked, worried.
He thought of all the gossip about their night on the plateau, drew her protectively close and sighed. “No, I don’t want to back out.” He bent his head and kissed her gently. His head lifted, but only a fraction. He caught her arms and guided them up around his shoulders before he bent again. This time the kiss was more intimate, more insistent. He nipped her lower lip and moved at once inside it, coaxing her mouth open to permit the slow, steady penetration of his tongue.
She moaned and held him closer. She felt his mouth smile against hers, felt the increase of his pulse. Her own raced and she was breathless, but not because of her lungs.
His hands slid up her rib cage to caress her breasts with lazy delight.
She looked up into his eyes through a dazed mist as he caressed her.
“No more protests, Bernadette?” he teased softly.
She smiled lazily. “I like it,” she whispered. “Should I pretend that I don’t until we’re married?”
“That would be a waste of time,” he pointed out with a smile of his own. He looked down at the softness in his hands ruefully. “What I wouldn’t give to taste them. But considering the turn of my luck lately, a carriage full of gossips would drive by the second I put my mouth on you.”
She chuckled. “You are wonderfully wicked.”
“Oh, yes.” He kissed her once more, savoring her mouth, and moved away with obvious reluctance. “I must take you home. Before I get any more wicked ideas.”
“How long are your grandmother and Lupe going to stay?” she asked, because it was as well to find out now.
“For the summer,” he said, confirming her worst fears. He glanced at her with a smile. “They won’t intrude when we’re married. We’ll have an entire wing of our own, far away from them.”
“Well, that’s all right, then.”
He picked up the reins and guided the horse back onto the narrow dirt road. “I’m truly sorry that things went so badly this afternoon with my grandmother,” he told her. “She’s old and she has fixed ideas about marriage. You’ll get used to her.”
“I’m sure I will,” she lied.
He glanced at her and smiled. “She’s not so bad, Bernadette. She had a hard life with my grandfather. He kept a mistress the whole of their married life. When my father was born, my grandfather was off traveling with the woman.”
“Was your father an only child?”
He nodded. “His death was a vicious blow to her, especially the way it occurred. My mother’s scandalous behavior, my father’s decline, then his sudden demise.”
“Yes,” she said sadly. “It must have been terrible for your grandmother...and for you.”
“It was. My mother never wept, never grieved, never offered me or anyone else comfort. She was far too preoccupied with her lover of the moment.” His face hardened. “I was eight years old.”
She grimaced. “I could never leave my child alone under those...or any other circumstances,” she said absently, thinking aloud.
“I know that. But she could, and did. She went to New York.” He stared ahead with cold eyes. “I haven’t seen her or heard from her in all those years. She closed the door between us and never looked back. My grandmother classes all American women with her and hates the idea of my marrying you for that reason.”
“I understand,” she said, and did. “I’ll try to get along with your family, Eduardo.”
“They have faults,” he said. “But Abuela matters to me, just as your father and brother matter in many ways to you.” He scowled. “Will you let your brother know about our marriage?”
“Of course. I’ll write to him. Albert and I are so far apart in age that we’ve never been really close. But he’ll remember you,” she assured him. “And I think he’ll be happy for me. I am for him. He and my father never got along, especially after my sister was forced to marry against her will.”
He frowned. “Tell me truly, you aren’t allowing your father to make you do something you don’t want to? Our marriage has your consent as well as his?”
“You know it does,” she said firmly. “My father isn’t really a bad man. Perhaps he will learn one day that we are not the masters of our own destiny. There’s a divinity that shapes events and people.”
“You know that, at your age, and he hasn’t learned it.”
She chuckled. “My father is a conundrum.” She glanced at him mischievously. “Like your grandmother.”
He shook his head. “What a tangle we have to work our way through to marry. But we will,” he added, smiling at her. “And we’re going to build our ranch into an empire. You will see.”
“I can’t wait,” she said enthusiastically. She averted her eyes so that he wouldn’t see the love shining out of them.
CHAPTER EIGHT
BERNADETTE WAS VERY UNEASY about having Eduardo’s grandmother and Lupe in residence while the marriage arrangements were made. She knew in her heart that the two women were going to make things as difficult as possible for her. She wasn’t afraid of them, or intimidated by them, but she was wary. And she didn’t want to alienate Ed
uardo’s family.
On the other hand, remembering the old woman’s cold attitude toward her, she knew that she wasn’t going to be able to tolerate insults without a challenge. Regardless of the condessa’s place in Eduardo’s life, Bernadette wasn’t going to let the woman make her life hell. She’d had quite enough of being treated like a contagious disease by her own father.
A week later, her father came home from Eduardo’s house with a strange look on his face. He called Bernadette into his study and offered her a seat at his desk. He looked truly concerned.
“I want to know,” he began hesitantly, “if you still want to go through with the marriage.”
She lifted both eyebrows. “Why?”
“Because I’ve just met that little black scorpion from Spain,” he said through his teeth. His face reddened with temper. “And I think you’re going to have a hell of a time living with her, even for the summer.”
Bernadette stared at him with faint amusement. “Why, Father,” she said, “did you get it in the neck, too?”
He cleared his throat, locked his hands behind his back and paced. “That venomous woman!” he muttered. “Looking down her nose at me as if I were one of her damned peons, and telling her grandson—in front of me, mind you!—that I hardly looked the part of a wealthy gentleman!”
“That’s nothing to what she said about me,” she replied with a rueful smile. “She didn’t like me at all. And when her niece came in wearing a gallon of heavy perfume, I had an attack.” She grimaced. “Lupe told Eduardo that he’d have to hire a nurse for me.”
“The damned insolence!”
She glanced at him. “Well, you used to say the same thing.”
He looked uncomfortable. “Perhaps I’ve been a bit...unfair in the past,” he conceded. “But whatever my own feelings, those women have no right to sit in judgment of us, or to make rude remarks about you. Or about me!”
Bernadette felt, for the first time, an affectionate kinship with him. How different her father had been since she and Eduardo had become engaged. At last, she said, “She doesn’t approve of me, and she doesn’t like the idea of my marrying Eduardo, regardless of how much money you’re willing to loan him,” she said on a heavy breath. She glanced down at her small hands folded neatly in her lap. “I must admit, I found her very heavy going. And Lupe—”