"There are no buts. You either do or you don't. If you don't, I'd suggest you either learn how or resist the temptation to try this particular bluff!"
Leonor glared at him, unable to refute the truth of his remarks and yet nettled by the cool mockery behind them. "And what about your claim that you know how to use one? What if he had called your bluff?"
Dimitri laughed and caught her by the arm and propelled her across the yard toward the sagging wooden corral fence beside the house. It was empty of horses at this time, since the horses used by the family were either out in the fields with them or were grazing on the tufts of grass clinging to the sides of the hill. "Let's see just who can back up their boasts, cousin!"
He handed her the whip and scooped up several empty wine bottles from a discarded basket and walked over and stood them on the top rail of the fence. Then he walked back and urged her forward, until she was within striking range of the bottles. "Now, let's see you remove those bottles, one by one."
Leonor uncoiled the whip, not willing to admit to him that she had never handled a bullwhip in her life, and tried to flick the end of the whip to the side as she had seen him do. She ignored the fact that he had moved away, a smile on his face, until he was well out of range of the whip. So he was afraid she would hit him? Well, any more remarks along the line he'd been pursuing and she would! She took a deep breath, drew back her arm and lashed out with the whip. The tasseled tip fell far to the right of the bottles, snaked back and around and snapped her sharply on the back of her legs. She gasped and bit her lip, refusing to look at him. She heard his poorly suppressed chuckle, which only fueled her temper. She positioned herself once more and snapped the whip again, with more force this time. Again she missed the bottles and, to her dismay, the whip snapped back and over her head and popped her hard on her rounded buttocks.
The laugh behind her was much louder and less restrained and she spun around angrily.
"It is not funny!"
He strolled forward and took the whip from her hand. "It is, too. If you could have seen your face when it came back and smacked you! Here, like this!"
Leonor stepped hastily to one side but she needn't have bothered, since it was quickly apparent he was indeed an expert with the whip and could control it completely. He flicked it out to the side and then, with a sharp snap of his wrist, he sent the tasseled tip toward the bottles. The whip end coiled around the first bottle, plucked it neatly from the fence and was drawn back to land at his feet. Without a word, he plucked the next two bottles from the fence. Then he looked at her. "If you want to crack it, instead of hit something, you do it like this." He snapped his wrist, the long braided length of the whip uncoiled, reached the end and snapped with a loud crack.
He looked at her mutinous face and grinned. "Here, you try and do just what I tell you." He put the whip in her hand and showed her how to snap her wrist to send the length of the whip out. She practiced hard for nearly an hour, trying to ignore the unusually disturbing feel of his hand on hers, the touch of his long, lean body so close behind her. No man had ever roused any warm feelings like this before and she didn't know why his touch did. It was distracting and upsetting to Leonor. She wasn't sure she even liked him! But she couldn't protest without appearing ridiculous so she gritted her teeth and did exactly as he said. By the end of the hour, she was able to crack the whip about every third try and to pluck a bottle off the fence. She missed as often as she succeeded but she was making steady progress.
"That's much better. A little more practice and you won't be bluffing the next time you cross verbal swords with your overseer! Let me have that," he added, taking the whip and coiling it. "I would suggest, Leonor, that you return the whip. I'll send over one for you to practice with but it would only add insult to injury to Jorge if you kept his whip. A man's whip is a very personal thing. It is made to his specifications, you see, and tailored just for him. It may sweeten his temper a bit if you return it. One of your grooms can take it back to him without you having to see him or say anything to him."
Did he think she was a child and needed to be told what to do and how to do it? But she wasn't going to let him know she resented his patronizing tone.
"I'm not afraid of Jorge," she said lightly.
Dimitri looked down at her, standing there with her eyes flashing. "Then you should be. He's an ugly customer, when roused to temper, and he doesn't seem to hold his young mistress in much regard. He knows perfectly well that the master here is Don Gilberto and he will not cross him! But you, well, he has little to fear from you and he knows it. I'd keep your distance from him, if possible. He should leave this farm alone and that, after all, seemed to be your intention. Besides, a man like that nurses a grudge so you don't need to give him any opportunity to satisfy it.''
Leonor let him coil the whip over her saddlehorn but didn't agree, or disagree with what he'd said. She knew that his advice was sound but she was in no mood to admit it; neither was she willing to start another argument with him. So she contented herself with an unsmiling nod and let him assist her in mounting. Then she thought of something she had meant to ask him. "By the way, what were you doing here?"
He smiled. "I called at the house but you weren't there. Your maid said she believed you were visiting here, so I rode over just in case you were still here. Aren't you glad I did?"
"You do like to say I told you so, don't you?"
"With you, it seems necessary! You promptly forget all the words of wisdom you're given, if they don't suit you!"
"You don't know me well enough," Leonor said sharply, "to say such a thing!"
"I'm learning, though, aren't I? I'll send a whip over, one I'll have made for you, and you make certain that you practice."
Leonor tossed her head and rode off, determined not to let him watch her practice again and give him the opportunity to laugh at her efforts. Many more remarks like that, she thought furiously, and she'd be tempted to practice on him!
Dimitri watched her ride away and, after saying goodbye to Ana, he mounted Adan, his magnificent Andalusian, and rode home. He thought over the scene he had interrupted with Jorge and had to admit to himself that he didn't like it. Leonor had not only made a considerable enemy today out of the overseer, she had also, by her defiance of his orders, reminded Don Gilberto that she would soon be in command at the de Reyes hacienda. Dimitri did not like the way things were shaping up. If even half of the information he was collecting on Don Gilberto was accurate, then he would be a dangerous man for Leonor to cross and she seemed determined to challenge his authority at every step.
Was Don Gilberto merely ignoring the girl's flouting of his authority? He must know that until she legally inherited, she was virtually powerless to make any changes or genuinely challenge his authority on the estate. Until she came of age, he was the legal trustee of the estate and it was his orders that counted there.
Still, Dimitri admitted to himself, he felt a grudging respect for the senorita. It had been a brave thing to do. He was quite sure the thought that Jorge might offer her violence had never entered her mind. She had been raised to be the eventual mistress here and was far too used to having her merest wish become a command to her servants.
A man of Jorge's stripe was another matter entirely. He took his orders from the new master of the estate and had not been slow to realize that Don Gilberto paid no attention at all to anything the girl wanted done. It was quite a step from that, Dimitri thought, to actually offering the girl violence and how could Jorge be sure that his master would allow such a thing? The more Dimitri turned it over in his mind, the more sure he was that Don Gilberto would not countenance his overseer actually laying hands on his stepdaughter. If Jorge, driven by anger, had touched Leonor, Don Gilberto would have had no choice but to extract a very severe penalty for such an action.
Any way Dimitri looked at it, the situation didn't improve. Even if her stepfather would not allow anyone on the estate to harm her, Leonor was flirting with disaster by
continuing to challenge her stepfather's authority. And Dimitri couldn't help but wonder what Don Gilberto intended to do when Leonor did inherit. Was the man laboring under the impression that his stepdaughter, once in legal control of the estate, would be content to leave the management of the estate in his hands? If he had indeed thought that, then her actions these last weeks would certainly have told him otherwise! Leonor, unless she went very carefully indeed, was begging for trouble and Dimitri was sure that she would get it. He tried to tell himself that it was no concern of his, that he had made her acquaintance and pursued it because it annoyed Don Gilberto so much. Also he had a score to settle with Don Gilberto! But the truth was, he liked his little cousin and was loathe to see her come to harm through her own impulsive actions. He had a feeling, though, that restraining her would be a full-time job! What the girl needed was a husband! Perhaps, Dimitri thought in exasperation, he should expend some effort to find a suitable one for her and save himself a great deal of trouble in trying to rescue her from her own folly!
Chapter Five
The next morning Leonor was sitting at her dressing table pinning up her hair when Paquita burst into the room, her eyes flashing with excitement. "Senorita! Don Dimitri sent a wagon train of hides to the Mission and it was attacked by bandidos!"
Leonor put down the hairbrush and turned to stare at her maid. "Who told you that?"
"Andres," Paquita admitted, a slight flush warming her cheeks. "He said Don Dimitri had been having trouble with the shipments to the Mission. Trouble with bandidos," she added. "So he decided to guard against another attack."
"How did he do that?"
"He had hidden men inside some of the wagons, Andres said, and only put a few guards on the outside. When the bandidos attacked, the men jumped out and beat them off!" she finished triumphantly.
"Very clever of Don Dimitri," Leonor murmured. "What made him think the wagon train would be attacked this time?"
Paquita shrugged. "I do not know, senorita. Perhaps he was just taking precautions but he was right!"
Leonor frowned at her reflection and added another long hairpin to hold the knot of hair firmly at her nape. "I am beginning to think that he makes a practice of being right! You've no idea how exasperating that is, Paquita!"
The maid smiled but shook her head. "He is a good man, senorita. Already he has done much on his estate to help the people. He has been riding over it, talking to all of the families and giving them whatever help they are needing."
"That is what I should be doing," Leonor said softly, her face troubled. "I cannot help if I do not know what they need."
"That would not be wise, senorita." Paquita had started making up Leonor's bed and now she paused, struggling to put her feelings into words. "Don Gilberto would not like it."
"I don't care about that! He is not doing what should be done here and I cannot ignore that, Paquita! If his treatment of Tobias and his family is typical of his management, then he should not have the care of the estate! My father didn't manage the land or the people that way."
"Your father was well loved, senorita. He was always ready to help them when they needed it."
"And Don Gilberto is not, is he?"
"He does what he thinks should be done," Paquita said evasively, going around to smooth the covers on the other side of the bed.
"You are afraid of him." It was not a question, it was a statement. Paquita looked around nervously and shrugged.
"He is a hard man, senorita, and does not tolerate mistakes. He is not best pleased, either, by your dealings with Jorge. Jorge reported it all to him this morning and Don Gilberto was very angry. Pedro, the head groom, took the whip back to Jorge this morning early," she added. "He said that Jorge said nothing but his face was angry. I fear you will hear from the master about that."
Leonor pinned on her riding cap of soft velvet and shrugged.
"Senorita, he is not a man to anger," Paquita ventured, gazing doubtfully at Leonor.
"He should not be angry because I am taking an interest in my inheritance. Paquita, how many of the farms are suffering, like Tobias' is?"
"I don't know. The flooding was widespread in that region but I haven't been out there."
"I saw that much yesterday. I think, if I'm to handle my responsibilities well, I have to go out and see what is happening on this estate!"
Paquita looked frightened. "Don Gilberto won't like it, senorita! He is already angry over yesterday. And Jorge! He is furious. Last night he uttered threats of what he'll do to you if you ever defy him again. He was drinking heavily," she admitted, "but those who were there and heard him say he meant it. He, too, is a dangerous man to cross!"
"That's a risk I'll have to take," Leonor said, picking up her whip. She wasn't impressed with Paquita's warnings. Don Gilberto might be angry but there wasn't much he could do to her except scold her and as for Jorge, he would never dare lift a hand to the mistress of this estate!
For the next few weeks, Leonor rode the estate. She visited every farm, talked to the hesitant peasants and succeeded in drawing them out and convincing them to trust her. She gained a growing picture of the conditions existing on her land. She was shocked and appalled by the level of privation that these people had come to take for granted during these last two years. Don Gilberto demanded such high taxes from them that they could do little more than feed their families, if they could do that! Little or no repair had been done on their adobe cottages and Leonor shrank from the awful conditions she had seen in more than one.
The dirty, overcrowded shacks were terrible and her heart bled at the sight of the children, barely clothed against the fierce heat, thin from hunger, their eyes reflecting the little hope they had of a secure future. It jolted Leonor from her safe, sheltered world and shook that security to its roots. Things had not been like this when her father was alive! Then the people sang as they worked; their faces were lit with a smile of affection when her father had ridden among them. Now they were silent and sullen, bowed under the overwork, suffering terribly under the cruel hand of their new master. It enraged her and touched her that they should be forced to live like this and yet would greet her warmly. They didn't seem to blame her for their misery. But the moment that any of Jorge's men came around, they fell silent and braced themselves for more suffering.
Leonor, unable to face such suffering, began to do what she could. She carried medicine from her mother's herb room to the farms, to treat the old, the ill, and the children. She ruthlessly raided the main supply rooms at the house to take food to the ones who were the worst off. She was helpless to do more than that but what she could do, she did, and was rewarded by the feeling that she was, at least, making some difference in their lives. Now the children greeted her arrival at their little cottages with delighted squeals and milled around her, telling her what they had been doing with their morning. Many of the children, far too young to be out in the fields doing an adult's work, dragged their tired little bodies out to greet her when their day in the fields was done. Her helpless frustration and anger grew and she cared less and less what her stepfather might think of her activities.
"Senorita," Paquita warned hesitantly, "Don Gilberto knows what you are doing and if he knew that you are getting much of your information on who needs help from me, oh, I don't know what he would do!"
"Only I know that, Paquita, and I won't tell him," Leonor said, in an effort to reassure her maid.
"But he knows what you are doing and he doesn't like it! Senorita," she cried, wringing her hands, "I'm afraid! He is very angry!"
"He has said nothing to me, Paquita."
"But he knows!"
"Very well. I'll be more circumspect. Does that satisfy you?"
"No," Paquita said frankly. "He will still learn of it. If you would just stop for a time, let him forget about it—"
"He has probably already forgotten," Leonor said airily. "He has much else to concern him than what I do!''
Don Gilberto did indeed
have much to concern him but he had not forgotten about Leonor's activities. He had listened to his overseer's account with growing fury. So, the brat had interfered again, had she? Paid the farm's taxes out of her own purse? And it did not sweeten Don Gilberto's temper to hear of Dimitri Varanov's role in the affair. He could do without that arrogant upstart's interference! Neither did he intend to let Dimitri encourage Leonor in her activities.
"Something must be done about Leonor," he growled to Eduardo.
"Do you mean because of the senorita's visits to the farms and her help with the sick and the old?"
Don Gilberto glared at his secretary. "I mean exactly that," he said. "She has been disturbing the peasants and aiding those who are better off dead if they can't work. I won't have it, I tell you."
Eduardo nodded. "It is incautious, senor, to allow her to go to the huts. She could well contract a pestilence that would spread through the family."
"Precisely. But how do I keep her at home and in the sala with her mother where she belongs?"
Surrender by Moonlight Page 7