Pablo glared down at her. "What did you mean by riding off like that?"
She gazed at him in innocent surprise. "Why, Pablo, you weren't having trouble keeping up with me, were you? I'm so sorry! Raya and I know this ride so well, we do tend to forget others are not so fortunate."
Some of his anger faded as he stood and looked down at her, taking in, with an appreciative eye, the softly rounded curves outlined by the snug fitting habit. "Well—"
"Rest and catch your breath. I promise not to set such a fast pace going back."
Leonor was thoroughly enjoying his discomfort and was trying not to let it show. Pablo, vain young man that he was, would take greater umbrage and be even more glowering and difficult.
For a short time, Pablo stood by the boulder, dividing his attention between the view below and the soft purity of his companion's profile. Recovering his breath and his equilibrium, he leaned closer to Leonor and slid his arm around her slim waist. As she instinctively resisted, he tightened his hold on her.
"Leonor, bella—"
Leonor turned and put her hands firmly on his chest and pushed back. "Stop it, Pablo!"
"Why should I stop?" he murmured. "Soon you will be mine and then—"
Leonor's head snapped up and he took instant advantage of that to try to kiss her. "I said stop, Pablo! No, I won't soon be yours and if you don't let me go this minute—"
"But you will be mine," he assured her smoothly. "It is already arranged between my father and Don Gilberto. Has he not told you?"
"No," she said grimly, "he has not. He knows very well that I would never agree to it."
Pablo smiled tightly, his expression one of indulged affection. "Sweet child, you will not have the choice! Your stepfather will arrange your marriage and there is no one who can say him nay. He has selected me, to my great joy—"
"He may have selected you, but I have not!" she told him through tightly clenched teeth. "There is nothing either of you can say that would make me agree to marry you, Pablo! Now let me go!"
For an answer, he yanked her firmly into his arms and began pressing moist, ardent kisses on her face and throat. Leonor attempted to extricate herself but found it impossible to break his wiry hold. She averted her face and tried to ignore the repellent touch of his lips on her cheek as she wildly sought for a way to force him to release her. Taking a deep breath, she stamped on his booted foot as hard as she could and pushed violently at his chest. He swore, staggered slightly but did not loosen his grip.
"Now, my sweet, this isn't a pretty way to behave."
"Neither is your embrace!" she retorted. "Pablo, I mean it. Let me go!"
They were so involved in their struggles that neither noticed the man guiding the magnificent gray horse around the pile of rocks to their right. The first indication they had that they were not alone came when the stranger spoke.
"I would suggest that you do as the young lady requests and release her."
Both spun around and stared and Pablo glowered at the man sitting easily on the back of the gray. "Who the devil are you?"
"I am a friend of the young lady's and I repeat, for the last time, my statement. Let her go."
Pablo's furious black eyes met those steely blue ones and, a scowl on his face, he slowly released Leonor. His mouth was set in a sulky line but he decided that it would be advisable to do what that arrogant, interfering man said. He didn't like the grim set of the man's jaw or the look in those cold blue eyes.
"I would suggest you mount and return to wherever you live," the tall stranger added. "I will escort Senorita Leonor home myself."
"But—"
"Now," the man added, cutting off Pablo's protests. His hand rested lightly on the sword swinging from his belt, an action not lost on Pablo.
In astonishment, Leonor, who had been studying the man in silence, now saw Pablo turn and twitch his horse's reins from the gnarled branch and mount in furious silence. He favored her with one burning, reproachful glance before leaving, his back stiff with outrage. Leonor turned to the man who had dismounted and stood surveying her with open amusement.
"You didn't answer his question. Who are you?"
The man grinned and strolled over to where she stood, letting his gaze run leisurely over her. "I am an old friend of your family's and a neighbor. Baron Dimitri Varanov, to be exact."
"And how did you know who I was?" she asked suspiciously. "I am quite sure I've never met you and I know all of our neighbors."
The warm mockery glinted in his eyes as he looked down at her. "I know who you are because I was behind the pile of rocks over there during the entire conversation. I didn't mean to eavesdrop, I promise you. I was admiring your lands below when I heard you arrive and just as I was about to come around and introduce myself, the conversation got very interesting and I didn't think you really wanted an interruption. Once you kicked him, or whatever it was that you did to make him swear," Dimitri added, the relish clear in his voice, "I decided you did need some assistance."
Leonor, embarrassed by the thought of this man listening to her entire struggle with Pablo, bit her lip angrily. "Thank you for your assistance, sir, but I assure you, I could have dealt with Pablo alone."
"You didn't sound as if you could," he commented, leaning his broad shoulders against the boulder.
Leonor decided she had provided him with enough amusement today and turned the subject. "You said you were a neighbor?"
"I am Gregory de Corderra's grandson. You should remember him, even if you don't remember my mother."
"B-but, you live in Russia! I mean, I understood that you, or your mother, I should say, lived there and—" She broke off when she realized that she wasn't making it clear what she meant.
"I do live in Russia," Dimitri said, understanding her meaning well enough. "As you probably know, my mother died two years ago and I have come to register my claim to the estates. She knew your mother and father quite well, you know. In fact, our families are connected in several places by marriage, so you can certainly think of me as a newly found cousin."
It greatly increased his amusement, reading the thoughts on that expressive face, to see that she didn't find this suggestion one to her liking at all.
"That doesn't necessarily make us cousins," she retorted.
"Oh, but it does. I went to the trouble to look it up. My grandfather has family charts in his study here and I spent some time looking at them. I was very curious to meet you, you know. I don't think you remember me or the last time we met."
She looked at him in surprise. "I've never seen you before in my life!"
"On, but you have. Before we left Spain to return to Russia, my mother came to visit her father and brought me with her. I met you then. You were," he added, his eyes twinkling down at her, "all of a year or so old. I wasn't terribly impressed with you, I remember, because every time I saw you, you were bawling loudly and your poor mother couldn't do much with you. I can't help but wonder if you've changed much, in that respect. My memories of Dona Juana are of a very gentle lady and you don't resemble her. You seem to look more like your father."
Leonor was both enraged and gratified by this remark. She resented his comments about her character but had greatly admired her father and had always been delighted that she resembled him so closely, rather than her soft, placid mother. But it sounded far from a compliment, the way this smiling Russian had said it.
''Well," she shot back, "if I was only a year old, you couldn't expect me to remember you!"
"No, I suppose I can't. My mother was very taken with you, I remember. I also found some intriguing notes about your family in my grandfather's study. One book that would interest you is a diary my mother kept when she was young. She was a great friend of your father's and treated him much like the brother she didn't have. At one time, the suggestion was made that she marry your father but neither of them would have that. Their relationship was of a different type and they were not willing to marry each other. Your father, if I
remember correctly, met and married your mother in Monterey, where she lived. Her father was a colonial official here from Spain?"
Leonor admitted that that was correct.
"And my mother went to Spain with her father on colonial business and met my father there. He was the first assistant to the Russian ambassador at the Spanish Court. They married and later my father became the ambassador and we lived there until I was fourteen. I must have been twelve or thirteen when we came here to visit. How old are you, Leonor?"
Leonor looked at Dimitri in surprise. She was not accustomed to strange men calling her by her given name. Neither was she used to telling them any personal things about herself. It was none of his business and she opened her mouth to tell him so but found herself saying, "Nearly eighteen."
"Then I was twelve. You have certainly improved a great deal since then," he added, smiling broadly as he looked her over from her head to her heels.
"I'm sorry I can't say the same thing for you," Leonor remarked, exasperated. "I'm sure you had better manners when you were twelve!"
"But you can't remember me so that's only a guess and not a very polite one at that! But I can remember you!"
Leonor realized that it was ridiculous to take genuine offense at this infuriating man's teasing and did not help her dignity at all. After a moment, smiling politely, she moved toward her mare. "I'll be sure and tell my mother that I've met you, Baron Varanov."
"Cousin Dimitri," he corrected, following her.
She shot him an annoyed look. "I must get back. Pablo is a guest in our house—"
Dimitri held out his cupped hands for her to mount and she accepted the offer. Then he looked up at her. "Not invited by you, I gathered. I'll escort you home."
"That will be unnecessary but thank you for the offer."
He caught his horse's reins and swung into the saddle. "Not unnecessary at all. I promised your rejected lover that I would see you safely home and I will. Besides," he added blandly, "I must make my bow to your mother. I'm sure she will remember me."
Dona Juana did remember him and greeted him with evident delight. She exclaimed over him, introduced him to her guests and her husband, said, several times, how much she missed his mother and his grandfather and what a loss Don Gregory's death had been to the entire district. Pablo, standing sulkily by the long windows in the sala that overlooked the garden, was pointed in his avoidance of this new visitor. But Don Vincente beamed on the Russian nobleman and spent considerable time recalling the many gatherings he had attended at the Hacienda Azahar. Dona Constanza asked the gentleman several times if he didn't find the heat and dust dreadful after the cold of Russia and didn't listen to a single one of Dimitri's assurances.
But the most marked reception of Dimitri was from Don Gilberto. Even Leonor was amazed by the lack of cordiality he showed to their visitor. He positively glowered at Dimitri, letting his usual cool politeness slip in a way Leonor had never seen him do in company. He had seemed both shocked and outraged by Dimitri's presence and Leonor couldn't imagine why but she was very curious. There was definitely more here than met the eye! She was also surprised at the tone Dimitri was taking with her. He kept including her in the conversation and calling her 'cousin' until Don Gilberto was hard pressed to control his anger. In the beginning, Leonor was annoyed by the unexpected, nearly affectionate, attention this stranger was paying her. Then she noticed the effect it was having on her stepfather and, reprehensibly, she began to participate in the conversation, warming to this handsome man's compliments.
Dona Juana, totally oblivious to all the tense overtones, beamed on them and urged Dimitri to stay and dine. When he declined, she insisted that he call on them tomorrow and join Leonor and Pablo in their ride. That invitation he accepted with a glinting smile at Leonor that was brimming with mischief. In spite of herself, she found herself responding to his devilish glance and seconded her mother's invitation.
When Dimitri took his leave, she excused herself and headed for the stairs, to brush away the dust of the afternoon's ride. Don Gilberto, seeing her crossing the hall, called to her.
"Leonor. Just a moment if you please."
She paused, her foot on the bottom step. "Yes?"
"Where did you find that young man?" he asked, his brow dark with anger.
"He found me," she said calmly. "Pablo and I were at the ridge and he joined us there."
"Did you have to encourage him by inviting him to the house?"
Leonor stared back at him, anger showing her eyes. "I could scarcely do less! Pablo was making a nuisance of himself, you see, pressing his unwanted attentions on me and Cousin Dimitri rescued me. Naturally he would not allow me to ride home alone." She saw his eyes narrow at her reference to Pablo's attentions and pressed her advantage, carrying the war into the enemy camp. "I can't imagine where Pablo got the idea, but he seemed convinced that you had accepted him as husband for me. I made it very clear to him that I would never agree to that and he could just put it out of his mind. He has not discussed it with you, has he?"
Don Gilberto's face was hard as he admitted, "He has. I have been discussing the possibility with his father. It is past time that you were wed—"
"I will not wed him if I remain a spinster all my life! I told him so, too. Under no circumstances, Don Gilberto, will I marry Pablo. I don't like him and he is not a suitable husband for me. We both know I can do much better than Pablo de Fonteira! My father would never have allowed me to marry into that family!"
"We will see. It is my obligation to choose a husband for you—"
"No, it is not. In less than eight months I will be of age and I'll chose my own husband! No one, not even you, is going to force me to marry someone I cannot even respect!"
His face was cold, implacable as he said, "This is not the time or place to discuss it—"
"It is as good as any, for there is nothing to discuss. I will not have a husband I do not like foisted on me, Don Gilberto. You may think you can persuade me or force me but you cannot."
"As your legal guardian," he said, striving to keep his voice down, "it is for me to choose your husband and you will wed who I choose."
"You can choose whoever you like but you underestimate me if you think I'll wed them! I would have to be dragged screaming to the altar and there isn't a priest in California who would perform the ceremony under those circumstances! My father," she added, her hand tightening on the wide banister, "agreed to let me choose my own husband and he left it so in his will. I know, the lawyer showed that to me. You only have the right to guide me; you do not have the legal right to force me and force me you will not! You may as well make it clear to both Pablo and his father that there is no chance at all that I will change my mind."
She was determined to assert her rights to him but the black anger in his eyes frightened her. She would not let him see that it did, however.
"If you think I would consent to that Russian—"
She opened her eyes wide in surprise. "Cousin Dimitri? He is very attentive, isn't he? And wonderfully handsome. I could see that madre was as charmed by him as I was. And he's a baron, too! His father is a duke, a cousin of Czar Alexander!"
"Leonor!" he began furiously.
She smiled mockingly at him. "Fortunately, I'm not ready to wed anyone just now but if I should have to choose someone, I will keep my new cousin in mind. Now if you'll excuse me, I do have to change for dinner."
Before he could say another word, she mounted the stairs with her back straight and her head held high. But her palms were damp with nervous perspiration and her knees felt shaky as she went down the cool, dim corridor to her room. She told herself that, unlike their last confrontation, she had accomplished something by standing up for her rights but she had the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that told her she had not heard the end of this matter.
Chapter Three
Dimitri frowned over the stacks of ledgers and files spread out on his desk. He looked across at Cesar. "If I u
nderstand these records correctly," he said, motioning to the paperwork, "not only have the estate's profits gone down steadily in the last two years, but so has the estate's production rate. I admit," he said softly, "that I have been more soldier and diplomat than landowner, Cesar, but even I can see that something has steadily been draining the estate of its strength."
Cesar nodded vigorously. "It has indeed, Don Dimitri. You may recall that I mentioned at our first meeting at the farm that the estate was not as prosperous as it had been? You see before you the proof of that statement. My father's stewardship was good but this was something he could not fight. I have also not been successful in these last months in stopping it."
Surrender by Moonlight Page 4