Innocent abroard

by Jessica Steele

  `How do you feel about showing me what sort of a horsewoman you are?'

  Too far away to have heard the subject of her thoughts come into the room, Reggie jerked round to see Severo standing there. He didn't look as though the sight of her in her pretty but simple cotton frock, her blonde hair loose about her shoulders, displeased him, and how long he had been there she had no idea. But since he was the very person she wanted to see, she wasn't going to overlook this opportunity.

  `Can you give me a minute to get into some jeans?'

  `I'll give you five,' he answered, the charm she had sometimes seen in evidence.

  She was almost out of the door before she slowly came to a halt and turned to own, 'I'm not very good.' Charm was replaced by a lift of his left eyebrow, his mocking expression telling her he was all ears to hear the confessions of a non-virgin so that her right palm itched as it had so often since her very first contact with him. Stiffly she added, 'As a horsewoman, I mean,' going on, her back rigid, 'I'm not coming if you have it in mind to put me up on the back of a stallion like the one you were riding the other day.'

  `And I thought you enjoyed it,' he mocked.

  One of these days, she fumed, pulling on jeans in her room, dragging her hair into a rubber band—just you wait, Severo Cardenosa, one of these days! She recalled one of her grandfather's sayings when she was getting above herself when gaining the upper hand at cribbage. How he made her laugh when he adopted that confiding manner and trotted out, 'Many a little sparrow chirped in the morning—'twas dead before nightfall.'

  She frowned as she closed her bedroom door, realising the analogy didn't fit. Grandfather invariably beat her at cribbage and no one, not even his worst enemy, could liken Severo to a sparrow. A hawk maybe, a waiting hawk—was she still the little sparrow her grandfather teased her of being?

  To her relief the mount Severo had saddled ready for her when she joined him was a comfortable-looking old thing. His own horse wasn't the stallion either. Whether or not this was because he didn't think that magnificent brute would take kindly to doing no more than a steady trot, Reggie couldn't be sure, though she gave him the benefit of the doubt if he had ridden the stallion hard that morning and was now resting him.

  `Come and say hello to Petalo.' Severo scanned her face, its fine contours visible with her hair pulled back, then impersonally helped her into the saddle. He adjusted-her stirrups, satisfying himself as they set off that she at least knew the rudiments of horsemanship.

  Aware she knew more than the basics, Reggie would have liked to have galloped off and left him standing. But since she hadn't been on a horse since she was sixteen—apart from that memorable occasion that wouldn't seem to leave her when she had sat up in front of him—she thought it better for her knowledge to return gradually rather than go showing of and very possibly coming a cropper.

  Severo took her a way she hadn't ventured before, past corrals that housed some terrifying-looking beasts, telling her he had a programme of very selective breeding; adding to her knowledge that whatever he did there was nothing haphazard about it.

  Cantering now that she had her 'sea legs', they travelled over acres of blue-green grasslands, Reggie's own mount being as surefooted as the horse Severo was riding. From time to time they slowed, many of the fields they rode over having wire fencing, all in good order, she thought, as one might expect to find on any well run ranch.

  When they came across a herd, thousands of them to her mind, and to her delight all Herefords by the look, a breed she could recognise, one man, dark-haired like Severo and nearly as tall in the saddle, separated himself from the rest and came over, Severo turned to her and introduced Francisco Mendoza.

  Tola's husband!' Reggie exclaimed, delighted to meet him as she extended her hand to the man who had ridden to her side his own hand coming out.

  `I have heard about you much,' Francisco said shyly,

  his English good, but not as good as his wife's. 'Lola find happy with you,' he added, which Reggie thought was the nicest compliment.

  `I am happy to have Lola for a friend too,' she returned, and meant it. From Lola she had learned so much about Uruguay and its people, of Rodo, author of Ariel and Los Motivos de Proteo, of Artigas whose statue she had seen in Montevideo, the man who had fought so hard for his country but who had then spent thirty years in poverty and isolation in Paraguay.

  Franco she thought a dear of a man, just the right partner for Lola. They spent some minutes with him before wheeling their horses and going once more over rising and falling ground.

  When they came to a steel" bank, Petal wasn't the only one with the bit between her teeth when Reggie saw that Severo intended they should ride down it. She knew he was watching her every step of the way in case she couldn't handle it, and needed all her concentration. She was concentrating so hard it wasn't until she had raised her head from guiding Petal that she saw Severo had brought her to another of those exquisite little streams she seemed to come across all the time in this department.

  `Oh, Severo, it's perfect!' broke from her, for here again were trees, different ones from her own special place, trees of oak and poplars, and shrubs and colour.

  `I thought with your eye for beauty you might appreciate it.' Had he brought her here especially to see this spot? she wondered, her hostility towards him mellowing. But before that thought could take root, he was saying, `We'll rest the horses here. They could do with a drink,' which had her cancelling the thought that he had done anything for her benefit. He had purely seen, where she had not, that the horses were thirsty.

  She would liked to have dismounted unaided, but firm

  strong hands were at her waist—hands that set her free the moment her feet touched terra firma. When he chose to lie down on the grass, because she thought now was perhaps the most ideal time to get a few things off her chest, Reggie elected to sit down not too very far away from him.

  It was difficult to know where to start. Diplomacy, she thought, was called for. Lead up to it. She knew he could turn into a fiery brute if she handled it wrongly. So instead of going right to the heart of the matter she asked him a question that had been in her mind for a day or two now.

  `Severo ...' he turned his head her way, his attention hers. 'You know I often go and have coffee at Lola's house.' He nodded, his blue eyes watchful. 'Well,' she plucked a blade of grass, knowing her nerves were more for what was to come than from any worry as to what his answer would be, 'well, would it be all right if I asked Lola up to the estancia occasionally so I could give her coffee?'

  She had upset him, she could see that even before he answered. Her spirits dipped as she watched and saw a stern expression take him. What had she done now?

  `I am most surprised to hear you ask that question.' She was afraid of thunder, yet here was a storm brewing. Well, she wasn't afraid of him, she thought bravely, and snapped back,

  `You mean you're too much of a snob to want your overseer's wife taking her ease in your sala?'

  Immediately she knew she had said the wrong thing. Fury lit his face, a quick movement as though he was going to get up and shake the daylights out Of her was checked as his hands clenched, and there was nothing casual about him at all as he gritted:

  `Both Lola and Franco have sat at my table many

  I

  times. It is a pleasure to have them in my home. You. .

  `I'm sorry, Severo, I'm sorry,' she burst in before he could let go on his opinion of her. She had known as soon as the hot words had spurted from her lips that she was wrong, very wrong. The very way she had seen him with Maria, Juana, Pancho, told her there wasn't a snobbish bone in his body. 'I spoke without thinking. I—I think I must be a little on edge.'

  Like the pampero, as soon as his temper had sprung up, Severo's anger died. He gave her a half smile that made her breathing easier.

  `That is perhaps natural in a bride-to-be,' he said softly, and while all her anxiety sprang immediately to life again, he went on before she cou
ld get a word in, `What I meant, and you so obviously misread when I said I was surprised by your question, was that as my future wife you have a right to ask anyone you please into our home. It surprised me that you felt the need to ask such a question.'

  Oh, this had gone far enough, far, far enough! 'For the last time, Severo Cardenosa,' she said, having no need to shout because he wasn't very far away, `I—am—not, repeat not—going to marry you.'

  Steadily he held her gaze, her words coming through loud and clear. Then coolly, in the manner only he had to rile her so, he sidetracked her and succeeded in sparking off dynamite.

  `Had the adulterer Clive been better placed financially no doubt your feminine misgivings about going to live with him would not have got in the way.'

  Her gasp was audible before a sheet of red misted her eyes. 'You swine!' she abused him. And beside herself, `You insufferable swine!'

  White-hot rage seared all rational thinking. She was on her feet, flying at him, her fury beyond words needing

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  physical assault to assuage it that not only had he dared to defile the love she had for Clive, but that he could think that money mattered where her heart was given.

  Unfortunately the few yards that separated them were liberally strewn with potholes, and as the toe of her shoe unerringly found one, she tripped and went sprawling on top of him. But winded as she was, she was so blazingly mad, her fists started flailing just the same—though not for long.

  Without effort, it seemed, and she was a wild fiery bundle to contain, Severo had rolled her over until she was beneath him, his well muscled arms having no trouble in anchoring her arms out of harm's way.

  And his fury was matching hers when he snarled, 'You little hellcat! Dios, I said there was passion in you—perhaps passion of this sort will tame you!'

  And while her mouth was all set to heap further abuse on him, his mouth came down on her parted lips. And if Reggie had thought at any time in her life she had been thoroughly kissed, she was just about to learn that she had never left the nursery slopes.

  `Let me go?' she raged, infuriated when his lips left hers briefly, her body heaving against his to get away.

  `Like hell! Not now I've got you where I want you,' he breathed savagely.

  Again his mouth descended, his shoulders now keeping her hands to the ground as his hands came to the back of her. His lips crushing hers had her trying to bite him, but it didn't seem to bother him as he kept the pressure there, making her want to cry out when the only punishment her teeth were making was against her own lips.

  `Let me go!' she raged again when he raised his head to look into her furious face.

  `I'll teach you to swear at me,' he ground out. 'I already owe you for one slap I was too gentlemanly at

  the time to collect on.'

  `Gentlemanly!' she scorned, 'huh!'

  For every insult offered, darling,' he told her, his anger seeming to lose its edge as she arched her body at him in a vain attempt to get away, 'you may be sure I intend to be recompensed.'

  `Go to the devil!' she snapped.

  `Another insult,' he muttered, and claimed her lips once more, his kiss this time lingering, his mouth less hard as the kiss went on.

  It confused her that there was no longer aggression coming through from his mouth to hers. She thought that was what confused her anyway. For when he lifted his head again, she discovered some of the fight had gone out of her. Insults she had ready to hurl at him staying locked up inside. It's only because I know if I insult him he'll insist on kissing me again, she thought, but her eyes were showing her confusion as Severo looked into them and saw the storm in her abating.

  Gently this time she felt his lips over hers, and her confusion was complete when she discovered she quite liked the way he was kissing her. Her own mouth softened beneath his. And it was then Severo began to kiss her so that she lost all thought of fighting him. Her lips parted and as his hands at her back moulded her to him, her arms, without her knowing they had been released, were going up and around him.

  There was such pleasure to be gained from that mobile mouth that kissed her eyes, her throat, somehow opened the V of her shirt and kissed the rounded mound that swelled away from her bra, that she could only delight in the moment.

  His lips came back to hers and as he drained from her, yet lit new fires that had the most abandoned longings starting in her, an awareness of cool hands that had lifted her

  shirt from her jeans and were now caressing her, nearing

  her breasts, had an unwanted sanity trying for a hearing.

  `Don't,' she moaned, even then wanting to bite her tongue out for having dared to have spoken.

  He stilled aver her, the hardness of his body warning her, scaring her into knowing she had left her 'don't' too late. Panic found a hold. She couldn't—not with a man who thought her a girl on the make. It was panic that had her body wriggling to be free.

  `Be still,' a thickened voice commanded. 'Your provocative, gyrating body is clouding my thinking.'

  Instantly she did as she was ordered. If he was still capable of thinking then perhaps he wasn't so far gone as she had thought.

  Then suddenly she was free. He rolled away from her to sit with his arms on his knees. For long moments he said nothing, and realising the closeness of her escape Reggie was in no mind to remind him of her presence.

  Then swiftly he looked at her and she wished he hadn't. Her hair must look a mess, the rubber band could be anywhere, and she hadn't got a comb with her. Her cheeks, from the way they were burning, just had to be rosy, and remembering the way her arms had held him to her, she had never felt so embarrassed in her life.

  `At least,' said Severo, himself enough for that mocking note to have survived, 'at least you will arrive back at the estancia looking as though there are some parts of this engagement that give you joy.' He then stood up to go to the horses, 'We will start back now. Abuela will be joining us tonight—dinner will be early.'

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  IT wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair, Reggie fumed, seated at the dinner table and wishing she could be hard enough to take that smiling look from Doña Eva's face.

  It hadn't bothered her to find they were to be four at dinner, not three as she had supposed. The portly gentleman somewhere in his late fifties had been introduced as Señor Felipe Armaral, but as dinner progressed it soon became apparent that he was a minister of religion. Worse, Doña Eva brought the conversation round to the wedding, and it was obvious that Señor Amaral was to conduct the ceremony.

  Glancing at Doña Eva, she saw she looked happier than she had seen her, the subject under discussion bringing life to her face. But she still looked frail and delicate in her pale blue dress, Reggie saw, and knew she didn't stand a cat in hell's chance of getting to her feet and denying there was to be a wedding.

  And Severo knew it! He had told her Doña Eva would be at dinner, but deliberately hadn't told her who else would be present, or his calling. He knew very well she would suspect something and have a word or two to say on the matter.

  She caught him looking at her and threw him a look that should have shrivelled him, but drew only a bland smile that had her hanging grimly on to her recently awakened ear-boxing tendencies.

  Sanity had come back once they had ridden from where that passionate interlude had taken place. Fool

  that she was, she had thought better then than to return to the sole reason she had gone with him in the first place. `More wine, querida?'

  She came out of her reverie to refuse politely, 'No, thank you, darling,' oh, so sweetly. 'I think I've just about had enough for one day.'

  `The night is yet young,' he had the last word, as he turned to refill Señor Amaral's glass.

  `Two o'clock for the wedding will be much better than the morning,' Doña Eva addressed her, reasoning, 'If it turns out to be a very hot day then the guests will miss the noonday sun and will be better able to enjoy the party in the garden afterward
s.'

  Reggie found herself agreeing that two o'clock was an admirable time for the ceremony, when what she really wanted to do was to jump on the table and scream that there wasn't going to be any wedding. It was no consolation to tell herself that it wasn't that she didn't have the guts to do such a thing, but that despite Doña Eva seeming so much better tonight, she still looked frail—how could she be the one to cause even the slightest setback to her health?

  Very shortly after dinner Doña Eva gave a delicate little yawn, whereupon Severo immediately teased her into confessing that she did feel a little tired. It was then that Señor Amaral asked if they would mind if he took his leave, his parting remark being that it wouldn't be long now before the two of them stood in front of him.

  Rebellion hit Reggie as soon as she was alone, and nothing would have kept her there to wait for Severo to return from seeing his grandmother to her rooms. Smartly she went along to her own room, fuming afresh as she washed and changed into her nightdress. It was all his fault. He knew exactly how she felt about this marriage business—she had told him plainly enough only this

  afternoon. Remembering the afternoon triggered off other thoughts. Thoughts about her own astonishing behaviour. Aroused thoughts of the unbelievably passionate being that had lurked unknown inside her. The feeling Severo had disturbed, brought to life ...

  Rapidly, as though to escape from thoughts she didn't want to dwell on, she jumped into bed, concentrating only on the thought that it was all Severo's fault. At any time during the evening he could have put an end to the marriage conversation, the arrangements. But no—had he? Not on your life. If anything he had spurred on such talk.

  True, she could have said something; fairness gave her a nudge. But how could she? She recalled the sweetness of Doña Eva's face and knew she was learning to love her as she had her own grandmother. She would have done anything for Gran—just as Severo was endeavouring to do all he could for his Abuela. He was ready to go through with this marriage to save her from knowing the happiness her husband had known at the last was gained from nothing but terrible lies.