Golden Paradise (Vincente 1) (4 page)

Isabel's mouth dropped and her eyes were like glittering ice. "There are so many things I want to ask you. We should be getting acquainted. Would you rather be with your mother than spend time with me?"

His smile was quick and his teeth flashed. Shrugging his shoulders, he explained, "Alas, I fear I must. It grieves me to leave two such charming ladies. May I escort you back to your mother and father?"

Now Isabel made no attempt to hide her ill humor. Her face grew rigid with displeasure. "No. I will just stay in the garden. You can take my sister back inside since you seem to prefer her company to mine."

Marquis laughed and winked at the young sister. "I understand you will be here for dinner. I will see you both then." With a nod of his handsome head, Marquis turned and walked away.

Isabel watched him until he was out of sight. Her anger had been ignited and needed to be vented on someone. There was an enigmatic gleam in her eyes as she turned on her sister. Grabbing the flower blossom Marquis had given Eleanor, she threw it on the ground, stomping it beneath her shoes. Her face was distorted with fury as she raged at her sister.

"How do you like the flower now, Eleanor? Does my betrothed make your heart swell with lust? Do you covet him for yourself?"

"No, Isabel. I would never do that." The tears that fell down her sister's face had no effect on Isabel, nor did they stay her hand from striking Eleanor hard across the face, leaving a red handprint.

"I will teach you to flirt with my betrothed. You cannot think he found you pretty, can you?" Isabel taunted. "Could you not see the horror in his eyes when he looked at your ugly face? He felt pity for you, nothing more."

Eleanor wiped her face with a lace handkerchief and shoved it into her pocket. "He is the only man who has known how to talk to me. He was not awkward and uneasy because I am not beautiful like you. I do not know why you are so cruel. I think Marquis liked me. I am no threat to you, Isabel. Why do you find pleasure in tormenting me?"

"No woman, not even you, will come between me and Marquis Vincente. I have dreaded meeting him for years. I feared he would be ugly and fat, but after seeing him today, I have decided I will like being his wife. He is wealthy beyond belief. I was told this house was grand, but it exceeds my expectations. After Marquis's grandfather dies, all you see here will belong to me. With the Vincente land and ours connected, we will have more land than any family in California."

"What will Marquis do on your wedding night when he finds out his wife is less than pure and has been with many lovers?" Eleanor foolishly asked.

Isabel whirled around, grabbed a handful of her sister's hair, and twisted it tightly around her hand until it brought tears to Eleanor's eyes. "You are not going to tell him anything, my sister. Besides, do you think me a fool? I have ways of preventing Marquis from finding out about my lovers." Isabel's face was twisted with wrath. "Be warned, little sister. I will kill you if you ever attempt to come between me and Marquis."

Eleanor was whimpering in pain as her sister yanked her backward, and she fell off the bench, hitting her head on the stone patio. "Swear you will never utter a word about my other lovers to Marquis!" Isabel pressed her foot against Eleanor's throat. "Swear!" she screamed out in rage.

"I swear," Eleanor whispered, her voice hardly audible since the pressure from her sister's foot was cutting off her breathing.

Isabel removed her foot and walked toward the arched doorways that led to the house. Halfway there, she turned to her sister. "The day anyone comes between me and Marquis is the day that person dies!"

3

It was early morning when Valentina stood on the deck of the
Berengaria
watching Captain Masterson and his crew scurrying about, making preparations to drop anchor. As the ship sailed through the bay past a small island, Valentina chose not to look at the tangle of ships that cluttered the inlet; instead she trained her eyes on the distant shore.

She drew in her breath, so struck was she by the virgin beauty that assailed her senses. It was as if she were looking upon a land time had forgotten—a new land for new people. The sun spread its light over the land, turning the grassy slopes a spectacular yellow. This really was the golden country, she thought. With great anticipation, Valentina looked past the wooded area toward what she knew would be the town of San Francisco.

The
Berengaria
made her way slowly forward to avoid scraping one of the many ships that rode at anchor. Valentina had never seen such an awesome sight; there were so many ships in the bay that their masts cluttered the sky, blocking out the full view.

As the ship moved closer to shore, Valentina strained her eyes, searching for some sign of her mother and father. Excitement stirred within her breast. Soon . . . soon they would be a family again!

No sooner had the anchor clanked into place at the bottom of the ocean floor than Valentina's trunks and boxes were loaded onto the longboat. Valentina was learning that little time was wasted on board a ship. She and Salamar were helped down the rope ladder into the boat. Then Captain Masterson climbed in beside them and directed the oarsmen to make for shore.

Nathan Masterson's warm smile rested on Valentina. "I trust you will find all you desire here in California, Miss Barrett."

"Thank you, Captain. And let me also thank you for an exciting voyage. I will tell my father about the courtesy that was extended to me and Salamar on board the
Berengaria
."

Captain Masterson looked pleased at her words, and Valentina could have sworn that he blushed. "I will be anchored here for a fortnight, Miss Barrett. Should you have any reason to need help, I stand ready to assist you.

She blessed him with a smile that made her eyes dance. "I expect to be in the safe hands of my mother and father as soon as we reach shore. But I thank you for your kindness." Again her eyes were sweeping the distant shore, searching for the beloved faces of her parents.

When the longboat bumped against the wooden pier, Valentina still had not spotted them. As Captain Masterson helped her ashore, she scanned the faces of the crowd, unaware of the many looks of admiration directed at her by the men on the dock.

"I don't see your parents," the captain observed, glancing about the crowd of people who had gathered to meet the
Berengaria
.

Valentina's legs felt wobbly but she knew from experience that the sensation would pass as soon as she became accustomed to being on land again. She met the captain's eyes. "No," she replied with a sinking heart, "I don't see them either. Perhaps they didn't know I would be arriving today." Her disappointment showed on her face. She glanced at Salamar as if she wanted her to decide what they should do.

Captain Masterson, seeing Valentina's distress, offered her reassurance. "I suspect your mother and father are waiting for the crowd to clear out, Miss Barrett. I would suggest that you move farther down the pier while I see to your baggage. If by that time your parents haven't come, I will send one of my men to make inquiries for you."

"Thank you. That would seem the best thing to do," Valentina admitted, glad to have him take charge for her.

Slowly Valentina realized she was the center of attention. She blushed at some of the bold stares the men cast her way. She felt as if she were on display. Never had she been on the receiving end of such close scrutiny.

Seeing Valentina's discomfort, Captain Masterson took her arm to assist her across the wooden planks that served as a dock. "Let's get you and your maid out of this heat," he said, clearing a path through the mob.

Valentina did not see the tall, gangly figure of a man making his way toward them until he spoke. "Pardon me, would you be Captain Masterson of the
Berengaria
?" The stranger's eyes swept Valentina with interest before resting for a brief moment on Salamar.

"I am indeed Nathan Masterson, sir. How may I be of service to you?"

"I am Reverend Percival Lawton," the man introduced himself, speaking in a stiff New England accent. "I was asked by Mrs. Barrett to meet her daughter, Miss Valentina Barrett. I have been watching every ship that came in for the last two weeks. Very tedious business, I must say."

Valentina wondered why her mother and father had not come to meet her themselves. Why had they sent this stranger? When she looked into the reverend's serious grey eyes, she extended her gloved hand. "I'm Miss Barrett, sir. Why aren't my parents here to meet me? Has something happened?"

"I thought you must be her," he said, ignoring her question as he took her hand for the briefest moment; then he dropped it as if it burned him. Reaching into his coat pocket, he removed his handkerchief and nervously dabbed at his face. "Nothing to worry about. I hired a buggy, so if you will put me onto your baggage, I'll see it's loaded."

Valentina pointed to the collection of trunks and boxes that was being stacked nearby. "You will find everything there, Mr. Lawton," she answered before she turned her attention to Captain Masterson. She was anxious to be away so she could see her parents. "I want to thank you again for everything, Captain. I'm sure my parents will want you to take a meal with us before you sail."

He took her proffered hand. "I will be honored, Miss Barrett. You have only to send word on the appointed date, and I will be there."

Nathan Masterson was reluctant to turn Valentina over to the nervous stranger who called himself a preacher. When the man returned, the captain saw that he was directing several dockworkers to load the trunks in his carriage. Percival Lawton seemed anxious to be on his way and was irritated when Masterson pulled him aside to question him.

"I don't understand all the secrecy. I want to know exactly where you are taking Miss Barrett. I know her mother and father quite well. It doesn't sound like them to send a stranger to meet their daughter."

The man nodded his head toward the west. "I have a small place just across town where I live with my sister. At the back of my place we have a small cabin that the Barretts have rented from us. Ask anyone where I live and they can direct you. If you will excuse me, I'll lash Miss Barrett's baggage down."

Valentina watched Percival Lawton dart after her trunks, while Captain Masterson pulled one of the dockworkers aside and questioned him about the reverend. After he was satisfied that Mr. Lawton was who he claimed to be, he returned to Valentina.

She held out her hand to him, feeling somewhat nostalgic about their parting. "I will miss the adventure, Captain. Perhaps I will sail again on the
Berengaria
. I certainly hope so."

Captain Masterson bowed slightly and touched the tips of her fingers. "I would deem it an honor to have you sail with me at any time, Miss Barrett."

He watched her turn away, knowing he would always remember her. After she was lost in the crowd, he made his way back to his men who were unloading cargo onto the pier. He was not really saying good-bye; he would see her again, he decided.

When Valentina and Salamar reached the buggy, Mr. Lawton made no attempt to help them inside. Puzzled, they looked at each other before climbing aboard, taking precautions not to show too much ruffled petticoat.

Reverend Lawton spoke not a word as he guided the mules into a steady stream of traffic. A heavy, uncomfortable silence hung in the air and Valentina was worried about her parents. Where were they? Why had they entrusted her to a man she didn't know? Suddenly she felt the comfort and warmth of Salamar's hand on her shoulder. The reassuring touch seemed to be telling her, Don't worry, everything will be all right.

With a sigh of relief, she turned to her maid and smiled at her. Then she turned her attention to her surroundings. She became fascinated by the sights and sounds around her. San Francisco was a ramshackle town, teeming with people from all walks of life. There were wooden buildings, many half finished. Canvas tents dotted the landscape, some of which had been turned into businesses. Large quantities of goods and wares were piled in front of buildings because there was no room to store them. The muddy streets were filled with masses of humanity hurrying about their daily lives. There were Chinese, Mexicans, Frenchmen, Spaniards, Russians and many other nationalities that Valentina did not recognize.

There was a strange excitement about them, as if the very air they breathed was filled with gold dust. Valentina turned to Mr. Lawton, determined to find out about her mother and father. "I was wondering why my mother sent you instead of coming herself?" Valentina watched the man's face as she worked her fingers out of her gloves, then clutched them in her hand.

"Your father and mother rented a cabin from me several months ago. Mrs. Barrett's been real sick. Mr. Barrett took off to the gold fields and left her alone. Me and my sister thought it only Christian for us to look after her until you arrived." His mouth thinned, and he turned watery eyes on Valentina. "Folks that come to this place seeking gold deserve what they get. It's the devil's work."

Valentina's head was reeling. No, he couldn't be telling the truth. "My father would never desert my mother when she was ill, as you suggest." Valentina glared at the man, knowing she was on the verge of losing her temper.

"I didn't mean to imply that your father deserted your mother. I believe she was supposed to join him when he had a suitable shelter built for her at his diggings."

Valentina stared at the man, hardly breathing. She was almost afraid to ask the question that went round and round in her mind. "How ill is my mother?"

"Could be worse; probably will be. She's got what they call the Panama fever. Must have got it coming overland through the jungle."

Valentina gripped her hands together tightly. "What are you saying?"

"Misery is born of misery. Your folks committed a great sin by coming to this land and trying to desecrate it. That's the folly of greed."

Valentina felt her anger rise to its zenith. "How dare you say such a thing about my mother and father! My mother is a good woman, and my father is an honorable man. You have no right to criticize them. Take me to my mother at once."

Percival Lawton's watery eyes moved over Valentina's face. "I have the right. I'm God's messenger, and he speaks through me. Your father paid the price for his sins; now it's your mother's turn to pay."

Valentina's breathing seemed to have stopped for the moment. "Are you saying that my father is . . . ?" She clutched her gloves, twisting them tightly. "No, it isn't possible."

Percival Lawton looked away from her. He was concentrating on guiding the mules past a wagon that was bogged down in the mud, blocking the road. "I'll not be the one to bring you ill tidings. When you see her, you must ask your mother to tell you about your father."

Valentina clamped her teeth together and brought her anger under control, but she could not control the fear that nagged at her heart—fear that something dreadful had happened to her father. "I insist that you tell me where my father is," she demanded in a shaky voice.

Mr. Lawton looked sideways at her. "Well, if you say so, but your mother wanted to be the one to tell you. She took ill right after your father left for the diggings. Your father had paid my sister and me to look after your mother. Then he left with his partner—a man some believe to be of dubious reputation. Your mother got a letter saying they struck gold; shortly thereafter it was learned that your father was killed in a cave-in."

"No!" Valentina cried, reaching out for Salamar's hand. "No, it cannot be!" Tears blinded Valentina and rolled down her cheeks. Trying to control her emotions, she gripped Salamar's hands tightly. "Was . . . did anyone find my . . . father's . . . body? Is there proof he is dead?"

"The proof is whether or not you believe Samuel Udell's word. Your mother refuses to admit he's dead. She says she'd know it if he wasn't coming back."

"Since we only have Samuel Udell's word that my father is . . . dead, and you implied that he might not be trustworthy," Valentina concluded, clutching at straws. She could not accept that her father might be dead. He had been so alive. She loved him so much.

"Well ... if you want to look at it that way; not many men trusted Mr. Udell. I tried to tell your father he was unscrupulous, but he didn't heed my warning. Be that as it may, your father is most assuredly dead. Why else would he stay away so long? Your mother needs to face the truth or she won't ever get well. She's too weak to get out of bed, just lays there moaning. It was like she gave up when she heard about your father. She's been counting the days until you arrive." He gave Valentina a tight little smile. "I believe I have won your mother's soul to the Lord and she sees the error of her wicked ways."

Valentina was weighed down by emotions she could not ignore. Her heart ached for her father; she was worried about her mother. She wanted to strike out at this hateful pious man. "My mother's soul doesn't need saving, Reverend Lawton. Don't you ever dare say that she had wicked ways."