Forbidden Angel (28 page)

Five men from the Hacienda had gathered, waiting for instructions from Rafael. A
vaquero
would drive while Frank held a rifle in his lap with a shotgun on the seat beside him. Once the carriage bearing the Cordova crest rolled into the courtyard, Angeline and Penelope were handed in.

The trip into town was a relatively short one. As they gained the narrow street lined with different stands, heads swiveled and people began to stare and point. Philippe kept a watchful eye on everyone and everything around them.

The carriage pulled to a stop in front of a row of brightly colored wooden stalls where merchants waited to barter their goods. Philippe offered Angeline his hand as Frank helped Penelope down. Slowly, they moved from stall to stall, the women engrossed in the handcrafted items.

Frank edged up to Philippe’s side. “
Don
Philippe.” Frank continued to keep a watchful eye on the women. “Tell me why I shouldn’t kill ya now.”

Philippe stilled. “Because you know I mean them no harm.” He scanned the area surrounding the women. “And because that is not the sort of man you are.”

“Are you so certain of that?” Frank kept pace beside Philippe. Neither man wanted to upset the women.

“
Si.
If I attempted to harm someone you care for, you would. But not like this.” Philippe sent a side glance in Frank’s direction. “And because I did not kill you when I could have.”

“Yeah, thanks for that.”

Philippe’s lips twitched. “I do not kill for killing’s’ sake, and you had done nothing.”

Philippe and Frank caught up with the women.

“Are you two enjoying yourselves?” Philippe asked.

Penelope turned large eyes on him. “Oh, yes. Everything is so skillfully crafted.” She glanced at the parcels she juggled in her arms. “I have some wonderful gifts.”

Philippe collected the packages and handed them to one of the
vaqueros
. “And you, Angelina, have you found things of your liking?”

“Many things. I’ve seen the most exquisite pieces of silver jewelry. The craftsmanship is as elegant as any found in London.”

“There is a place ahead where we might rest and find refreshment. Afterward, we should start back.” Philippe ushered them toward the door.

Frank disappeared inside the small, white cantina Philippe had indicated. Within moments, he reappeared and waved them in.

Once inside, Philippe asked a few discreet questions and learned inquiries had been made regarding the whereabouts of a black-haired English woman. As soon as they’d finished, he clasped Angeline’s elbow and walked her to the carriage, with Frank shepherding Penelope.

The sun was still high when the carriage rumbled to a stop in the courtyard, and Michael and Adrian came to meet them.

“I can see by so many parcels, the trip was a successful one.” Adrian reached for Angeline and caught an imperceptible nod from Philippe.

“Quite successful, and I cannot wait to give you your gift.” She held up a finger. “But, you must wait until Christmas.” Her lips curved in a mischievous smile.

“Well, my sweet wife, so will you.” He gave her a nudge toward the hacienda. “Both of you should go inside and enjoy a warm bath and rest before dinner. I would have a word with
Don
Philippe.”

Angeline pivoted to face Philippe. “Thank you for a lovely day. Will we see you later?”

“
Si, niña.
”

By the time the women had disappeared inside the shaded entrance of the hacienda, Frank had joined Adrian and Philippe.

“I think it safe to assume Malcolm is alive and will present himself soon,” Philippe said. “You realize there will be complications when that happens?”

“Yes.” Adrian lit a cigarillo.

Frank stared at Philippe. “No one will believe that bastard, and we sure as hell won’t let on. Cazador’s gone, ain’t he?”

“
Si
, he is gone.”

“How did you know, Frank?” Adrian asked, perplexed.

“Didn’t at first, but it was the only thing made any sense. We all knew Miss Angeline weren’t tellin’ us everything. Seein’
Don
Philippe with her, well . . .” Frank shrugged, then shifted his gaze to Philippe. “But just so ya know, if Adrian or his lady had died, I would have hunted ya down and killed ya.”

Philippe inclined his head. “I would expect no less.”

Frank returned his gaze to Adrian. “What next, Boss?”

“We should plan for his arrival.” Adrian contemplated the burning tip of his cigarillo. “This will end soon.”

“It can’t come none too soon for me,” Frank said, then moseyed toward the house.

“He is a good man.” Philippe mounted his horse and grinned down at Adrian. “I would have regretted killing you.”

Later that evening, replete from dinner, Adrian settled Angeline comfortably in a large chair near the fire and stood before the hearth, hands clasped behind his back, surveying the room and those gathered. He leaned toward her. “Have you had an opportunity to visit much with your grandfather?”

Angeline shrugged. “Only for short periods. We seem to avoid those topics most unpleasant for both of us.”

“He has asked to speak with me in the morning.” He saw the expectant look in her eyes and forestalled her with a quick shake of his head. “I have no idea what he wishes to discuss, but I will share all with you afterward.”

Angeline slanted a look at him, then settled back in the chair.

Penelope sipped her punch. “What festivity happens tomorrow?” She glanced eagerly at Philippe.

“Tomorrow is the lottery. You will hear the bells ring when a name has been drawn. The Cordova family, as well as mine, fill small bags with candy for the children. The bags will be given to them on
Nochebuena
, Christmas Eve. Our riders deliver them.”

“Do you think we could help fill the bags?” Penelope asked readily.

“Rafael, we have some volunteers to help with the bags for the children. What do you think? Should we accept their offer?” Philippe teased.

“Who could refuse such lovely ladies?” Rafael continued the friendly banter. “Your gesture will make some children very happy.”

Adrian noticed Angeline yawn discreetly behind her hand. He bent down to whisper near her ear. “You need your rest. Would you like me to make our excuses?”

“Please.”

Philippe had seen the tired gesture as well. “It has been a very busy day for the two
niñas
, so I will take my leave.”

“Will we see you tomorrow?” Angeline questioned.

Philippe extended his hand, helping Angeline to her feet. “There are some matters I must attend to first, but I will be here later.”

Adrian exchanged a knowing glance with Philippe. When his gaze returned to Angeline, he found her staring at them. No doubt she would have questions. He would need to be prepared to answer them.

As they entered their bedchamber, Angeline confronted him. “What aren’t you telling me? It makes me very uneasy not to know.”

He sighed and lightly gripped her shoulders. “We believe Malcolm will show himself very soon. Don’t fear, my love, we’re waiting for him.”

“I’m more angry than frightened. I want him out of our lives, and, heaven help me, I do not care how.” She sat down at the dressing table and began removing the pins from her hair. Her hand stilled and she swiveled on the seat, anxiety written on her face. “What of
Don
Philippe? Malcolm will most certainly recognize him.”

Adrian paused, then continued removing his stickpin and cravat. “We will deal with that eventuality when it happens.”

“I pray you’re right. He has come to mean a great deal to me.”

“Yes, I realize that.” Adrian fought a wave of jealousy. Picking up her brush, he began running it through the long strands of her hair. She sighed and visibly relaxed.

She watched him in the mirror. “This is nice. You’ve never brushed my hair before.”

“I find brushing your hair to be rather erotic.” He noted her gaze lower to his obvious arousal.

“So it would seem.”

“Minx.” He nuzzled the side of her neck. “As long as I’m acting as lady’s maid, perhaps I should help you out of that gown.”

Adrian tapped once and stepped through the door.
Don
Fernando turned a calculating gaze on him and motioned him forward. Something about this summons, and that was the only way it could be viewed, felt wrong. Whatever
Don
Fernando wanted to say, Adrian instinctively knew he wouldn’t like it.

“Come closer, Lord Windsford.”

Adrian crossed the room, moved a chair around to the side of the lounge, and sat. “You wanted to speak to me?”

“
Si
. We are both powerful men, used to having our own way. As such, we are aware of the need to plan, to look ahead and see the full picture.”

Adrian felt, more than saw, Fernando’s hesitation. He steeled himself against the realization that this man, in his own way, was as much a foe as Charles.

“Yes.” Adrian tried to determine where this was headed. What he surmised made his blood heat. “Go on.”

Fernando nodded. “I have two strong sons who will continue to add to this family. Sons . . . that is what men of our ilk need. Daughters,”—he waved his hand in dismissal—“though delightful, are of little use unless they can further our goals.”

“Your point?”

Fernando looked him in the eye. “My point, Lord Windsford, is that you will need a legitimate heir. Angelina is herself not legitimate. You will not have what you need through her.”

“She is my wife,” Adrian said flatly.

“Ah, but she is not.” Fernando voice caught in a wheezing gasp. “Return her to me. I will see her safely wed to Philippe and my plan fulfilled, and you may find the wife you need to produce your heir. To make the arrangement more beneficial, I have holdings in America, some of which I would turn over to you.”

Adrian felt his jaw tighten and his heart pound against his ribs as anger turned to fury.

And still Fernando persisted; unrepentant, unemotional, cold. “There is a mine—”

“What of your sons? Do you so freely give away their inheritance?” Adrian encouraged the conversation, driven by the desire to see how far Fernando would go to accomplish what he wanted.

“Bah,” Fernando expounded dismissively. “They will do what I say.
I,
”—he thumped his chest—“have built what they have and
I
will decide what is necessary to see it finished.”

Adrian gripped the arms of the chair, fighting the desire to reach for the old man. “And my child?” He could barely get the words out past his clenched teeth.

“Whether male or female, the child is of no use to you. The babe may stay with the mother. We will see to its comfort and education and it will not be an embarrassment to you.”

Fernando stared expectantly at him. Adrian knew the patriarch of the Cordova family believed he would accept. His skin crawled.

Then, Adrian let the disgust and anger show on his face as he leaned toward Fernando.

The old man’s eyes widened.

“Hear me, and hear me well,
Don
Fernando. Because I would not hurt
my wife
with the knowledge of how little you care, and, because I have a great deal of respect for the sons you seem to consider only pawns in your
game
, I will not tell them of our conversation.”

Adrian leaned closer. “You are fortunate to have a wife to support you as
Dona
Maria has. I will not see her hurt, either.” Adrian eased away. “I suspect she already knows what a bastard you are. But,”—he pointed a finger at Fernando—“if you say one word of this to me again, or, should you act in any way against Angeline,
I
will see it finished. Do you take my meaning?”

Fernando inclined his head slowly. Then his lips lifted at the corners. “It is never wise to underestimate one’s opponent, as I so obviously have.”

Adrian rose. Without a backward glance, he stalked toward the door, slowing his stride as he noticed Dona Maria’s presence in the shadows. He continued on without a word.

The morning sun streamed through the kitchen windows lighting the large room. The cast iron stove, still hot from the breakfast preparation, eased the chill from the air. Esteban drank coffee and observed with an indulgent air as Angeline and Penelope chatted together at the large table, filling bags with candy. Moments later, Dona Maria walked in.

Angeline raised her head and smiled in greeting, her pleasure at seeing her grandmother fading as she noticed the strain around the older woman’s mouth.

Angeline laid the bag down. “Is it Grandfather?”

Maria’s gaze drifted over Angeline, settling on her face. “He is much the same.”

Penelope chose a few pieces of candy and stuffed them in another bag. “In England we give gifts to those closest to us, and always a gift of money for the staff, but this is the first time I’ve felt what we do is truly the feeling of Christmas.”

“It’s fun to think of these children finding their bags on Christmas Eve,
Nochebuena,
I believe.” Angeline received a faint smile and nod from Maria.

Penelope tied a strip of ribbon around the top of one bag. “What happens tonight and tomorrow?”

Maria seemed to relax, some of the earlier tension leaching from her face. “On
Nochebuena,
we have a very large feast. For those who wish to attend, there is midnight mass, or
La Misa del Gallo
. It means Rooster Mass, and was named such because the rooster is known as the first to announce the birth of Christ. Young children wake to find what Papa Noël has left for them. In Spain we usually wait until Three Kings Day to exchange our gifts, but we have decided to exchange them Christmas morning, as is your custom.”

Angeline considered what she’d heard. “Three Kings Day. The three wise men?”

“Yes, it is,” Esteban interjected, refilling his coffee from the pot on the stove. Leaning a hip against the counter, he explained, “Before going to bed, they will leave their shoes in a visible spot in the house or on their balcony, hoping when they wake there will be gifts left by the Three Kings.”

Penelope clapped her hands. “How wonderful.”

“Oh, there is more.” Esteban eyes twinkled as he spoke over the rim of his cup. “There will be a special dessert called
Roscon
de los Reyes,
a large, ring-shaped cake decorated with candied fruits, symbolic of the emeralds and rubies that adorned the robes of the three kings. Somewhere inside the cake is a surprise. The person to find it will be crowned King or Queen of the casa for the remainder of the day.”

“How marvelous.” Angeline grinned at her uncle.

“Yes, indeed it is.” Esteban dropped into a chair and began filling the candy pouches.

Angeline picked up another bag and a handful of candy. “There must be more. Tell us,
Tio
Esteban.”

“Well, let me see,” he said slowly, his gaze shifting from one to the other. “Oh yes, there is
Nochevieja,
or New Year’s Eve.”

Penelope forgot about the bags as she stared wide-eyed at Esteban.

Esteban’s lips twitched. “There is much merry making. When the clock strikes midnight, the church bells sound twelve times. At that moment, we eat twelve grapes. According to tradition, those who eat the grapes will have twelve months of prosperity. Families and friends usually stay together for this celebration, and it can last until early morning.”

The rest of the morning passed quickly, with Esteban regaling them with tales of past Christmases and the fun they’d had as children. Angeline could envision Philippe and her mother at such a young age.

Yet even as she enjoyed their morning chore and her uncle’s holiday tutelage, she couldn’t help but be aware of the armed men outside who took their assigned positions.

Later that evening, Adrian waited with Rafael, Esteban, and Frank in the courtyard. Philippe and Michael had ridden into town to gather information and were expected back at any moment.

The sound of a horse’s hooves hitting the cobblestone, heralded Philippe’s arrival. He tossed the reins to a groom and strode swiftly toward them.

Without preamble, he stated, “There is a large coach traveling in this direction. I do not believe it is Malcolm as they travel with a guard of men.”

“How soon will it arrive?” Rafael asked.

Philippe slapped his hat against his leg to rid it of dust. “Shortly. They travel with great speed.”

“What do ya want us ta do?” Frank ran his hand through his hair, the only visible sign he was worried, and narrowed his eyes at Adrian.

“We wait.”

Rafael voice rose with anger. “Esteban, notify the men. Malcolm will be allowed to pass, but he will not be allowed to leave.”

Esteban left to impart word to the men.

“What do we tell the women?” Frank crossed his arms over his chest.

Adrian met Frank’s gaze. “Everything, which is the best way to help keep them safe.”

Philippe nodded in agreement. “They are intelligent women and know the dangers only too well.”

“Where is Michael?” Adrian asked.

“He stayed in town. The Captain thought it the best way to learn more.”

Adrian pushed his food around on the plate with his fork. It had grown dark and Michael had not returned. He drew some comfort from the knowledge that Michael would not be up against someone of Philippe’s caliber.

“Would one of you care to tell us what’s happening?” Angeline laid her fork down. “Do not think to placate us.”

“No, my dear, we won’t.” Adrian gave up the pretense of eating. “Would you like to move to the drawing room?”

Angeline’s voice rose in worry. “Just tell us. What we suspect may be far worse than what you have to say.”