Authors: Patricia Hagan
A few minutes later, the guard led her down the hall and downstairs into the parlor.
Valdis was seated on a thickly embroidered sofa. Patting the place next to him, he smiled broadly and said, “I thought you might enjoy some time out of your room,
querida
. And I have some news that will delight you.”
Amber sat in a chair as far away from him as possible. “Don’t call me your beloved, Valdis. And yes, I would enjoy some time out of my cell, but not if it means being with you.”
“Ah, is that any way for you to talk to your future husband?” He chuckled, crossing his legs, the smug expression never wavering.
Amber laughed. “I will never marry you.” She leaned forward. “And how long can you continue this? How long do you think you can keep me locked in this house like a prisoner? Surely, people in the valley will start to ask questions.”
“Of course.” He nodded slowly. “But not for long. Which brings me to my news. We are all going on a trip to Mexico City. Your stepmother and stepsister will be going, too. It is traditional that the Alezparito family be in attendance at important events. There is to be a big fiesta in celebration of President Juarez’s imminent reelection. There will be many parties, and you will go with me to all of them.”
“I have no desire to go to Mexico City, Valdis,” she snapped.
He went on as though she had not spoken. “Tomorrow, the seamstress will fit you for all the exquisite gowns you will need. This is the important high social season, my dear.”
Amber sighed. “What does it take to get you to understand, Valdis? I have no intention of traveling to Mexico City with you.”
“Oh, Amber.” He chuckled softly, as though she were a headstrong child. “Surely you have learned by now that everyone does my bidding. You will go if you have to be tied down in a carriage. Do not make things unpleasant for yourself.”
The study door opened and Maretta stalked in, face flushed with anger. With a quick glance of hatred at Amber, she demanded, “Tell me it is not true, what I have heard from my seamstress. You have ordered her to make gowns for this one? You intend for her to go to Mexico City with us? Tell me it is not true. I insist!”
“I tell you nothing!” Valdis leaped to his feet, his hand cracking across his half sister’s face. Maretta reeled backward, sprawling into a chair.
Amber gasped. She had never before seen a man strike a woman.
“She will go with us, and I will listen to no complaints from you,” he raged as Maretta looked up at him tearfully. “How dare you question what I do?”
Maretta pleaded, “Valdis, I do not want her there. Do I have to remind you what happened at the bullfight? She will bring shame upon us again.”
He laughed. “What you fear is that all the men in Mexico City will have eyes for her and not you,” he taunted. He returned to his seat as Maretta stared after him, rubbing the welt on her cheek.
Pouring himself a drink, he went on. “You have nothing to fear. When the announcement is made at the President’s Ball that Amber is to become my wife, the men will turn from her to you.”
Amber cried, “You will do nothing of the kind, Valdis, because I will not marry you. And if you dare to do such a thing, I will embarrass you and your family by screaming that you are a liar.”
Swirling the deep scarlet liquid in his glass, Valdis stared down into it, and the colors reflected in his eyes.
Maretta turned on Amber. “You have no gratitude! My brother offers to marry you, to make you a decent woman, to give you a life other women would envy, and you dare say no! And you, Valdis”—she sneered—”you are a fool to think you will ever be accepted socially. Have you forgotten you are always excluded from all the best parties? My mother and I are invited to them all out of respect for your father, but you are considered a blemish on his honor, for you will not fight in the ring. Yet you think because you bring this silver-haired
gringa
, you will be accepted?” She shook her head vehemently as she said triumphantly, “No. You fool yourself.”
Amber cringed as Valdis sent his wineglass crashing against a wall. Towering over Maretta, he railed, “You will provoke me into tearing the flesh from your worthless back! Now go! Get out of my sight before I lose control.”
Maretta scurried from the room, but when she reached the doorway, and freedom, she straightened and retorted shrilly, “You will see! You will see that I am right! You will
never
be accepted. Everyone knows you for the coward you are. Only a coward would beat a woman and torture children!”
He took a step toward her, and she screamed and fled. Laughing, he turned to Amber and gestured apologetically. “You must forgive Maretta. She has not been herself since she found Armand Mendosa an unwilling groom. All that will soon change, however. I had a long talk with Señor Mendosa recently, and he is learning that it would be wise to honor the arrangement his parents and ours made long ago.”
Amber knew the remark was intended to rile her, so she allowed it to pass.
“Now then,” he said, sitting down once more and smiling, “we shall argue no more about Mexico City.”
“Perhaps you can force me to go, but you cannot force me to marry you, Valdis,” Amber pointed out again. “And if you do embarrass me by announcing our engagement, then I will have no choice but to embarrass you by denying it.”
She waited for his anger and was surprised when he smiled pleasantly and murmured, “That would not be wise,
querida
. You see, Maretta is quite disturbed by Armand’s infatuation with your rare, exquisite beauty. I do my best to control her, but I am afraid that, despite repeated chastisement, she remains willful and headstrong. She has mentioned a certain convent that tames the spirits of wayward young women.
“So you see”—he waved his hands—“I am giving you a choice, not forcing you, Amber. You will either marry me or go to the convent. The nuns will make you graciously accept the wonderful life I offer you.”
Amber gripped the arms of the chair and leaned forward, fighting the impulse to attack the smug, smiling face. “Did it ever occur to you to just give me back the money you stole from me and let me return to America?”
“No.” He chuckled, shaking his head from side to side in maddening deprecation. “That thought has not occurred to me. I am quite sure that it won’t. It is my intention to have you for my wife.”
“You, sir”—she forced a tight smile as she rose—“can go to hell.”
Valdis walked to the door and opened it. With a bow, he smiled. “I will give you until tomorrow morning to change your mind. If you still refuse to accompany me to Mexico City and to announce our engagement, then you leave me no choice but to notify the nuns that you are on your way.”
She hurried back to her room. Dear Lord, how many hours was it till midnight? If Armand did not have a plan for getting her out immediately, then she would leave anyway, without money, taking just the clothes on her back.
Chapter Nine
But that night, after a strangely uncommunicative Cord had taken Amber safely into the forest where Armand was waiting, and had then silently retreated to the edge of the woods, Armand reacted jubilantly to Amber’s story.
“No,” he said firmly. “You must not try to leave now. There is no place for you to go, and I could not hide you for very long. This is much better, my moonstar. You see.” He grasped her shoulders. “I shall also go to Mexico City. The bullfight season takes me there, and I have relatives there who will help us. My aunt. Cord and I will help you slip away from Valdis, and you can stay with her. It is much better this way.”
Amber touched his cheek gently, hating to dampen his sudden happiness. “And then what happens? I can’t stay hidden forever. I must find a way to return to America.”
“I will take care of you,” he said sharply. “You do not need to return to America. What waits for you there? You have no family, no home.”
She was desperate to make him understand. “Armand, I care for you. But I’m not experienced in affairs of the heart. I have never been in love before. I must be sure. And I must take care of myself. I can take nothing from you.”
“I understand, Amber, but you must listen. My aunt is a religious woman. Never would she keep a mistress for me, if that is what you are thinking. No, no. You will live with her, not with me. She will give you food and shelter. We can see each other whenever we want, and we can find out if this feeling between us is real.”
Amber felt a tremor of hope. “But what about Valdis? He would search for me, and it won’t be easy to slip away from him, anyway.”
“Let Cord and me worry about Valdis. We will make all the plans, and you will be informed of all the details later. Valdis will not harm you once we get you to my aunt. You will be safe.”
He cupped her face in one hand, brushing his lips across hers. She could feel him smiling. “I make the promise to you, my moonstar. Do as I ask, and if you do not fall in love with me, then there will be no bitterness. We will still be friends. But I am not worried. I will make you love me.”
“Armand…” she began, but he quickly silenced her with a kiss. After a moment, she moved away. Now was not the time.
“I want to know about Cord,” she began. “Why is he so devoted to you, and so protective?”
With a resigned sigh, he said, “He does not like to talk about his life, but I will confide in you, for I want no secrets between us.”
Armand told of having been in Texas during the closing days of the Civil War. “My friends and I came upon a skirmish between the two armies. After the Yankees chased the Rebels away, they discovered us hiding on a ridge and thought us Rebel sympathizers and spies. We were about to be executed when Cord intervened and saved our lives. He escorted us safely to the border, and I told him he always had a home and shelter with me. A month later, just before the war ended, he came to my door.
“Something had happened to him,” he continued, “though Cord never told me exactly what it was, and I did not press him. One night, when we had both had too much tequila, his tongue loosened enough that I could put a few pieces of the puzzle together and learn that his troubles had something to do with a false accusation against him, something to do with a woman. He was very bitter and he still is.”
“But why does he remain here?” Amber wanted to know. “Why doesn’t he return to the States and straighten it out?”
“Ah,
that
is the true mystery,” he told her, eyebrows raised. “I also have learned that he is quite wealthy. Some of his men who rode with us to the border told me that he lost his whole family in the war. His parents were killed in the early months, caught in a crossfire between troops near their home. He had a younger brother who was declared missing after the battle at Gettysburg. His father, they said, was very rich, but Cord was heard to say that one day he hoped his brother would be found, alive, and he could have it all. Cord wants only to forget his past. So, a fortune awaits him, but something has hurt him terribly and he continues to brood.” He looked at her thoughtfully. “No doubt, Cord has done something to arouse your curiosity about him.”
She decided it was best not to comment.
“Tell me,” he asked pleasantly, “has Cord made amorous advances to you?” When she did not—could not—reply, he chuckled softly, “
Sí
, I can tell by your silence. But try not to be offended. You see, he thinks you are not serious about me. He thinks you are interested only because I am a well-known matador. In Mexico, young women find matadors very appealing and flirt with them. Cord has been testing you to see whether you truly care for me.”
She did not know whether to be pleased or offended. If Armand was right, then Cord was to be admired for protecting his friend, while at the same time condemned for being so damned sneaky.
“Enough talk.” Armand placed a hand on the back of her neck, drawing her face close to him. “We have not much time, my moonstar. I want to hold you.” Amber shuddered with longing as his mouth claimed her hungrily.
He lowered her gently to the ground once again, his hands sliding down to pull her hard against him. She could feel the thudding rhythm of his heart, and the frenzied beat matched her own.
“Let me see all of you,” he whispered raggedly as his fingers slipped beneath her gown. “I want to lie beside you with only your skin between our souls.”
Her voice sounded feeble, even to herself. “Armand, we mustn’t. It…it isn’t right. Not yet…”
“Anything is right when two people love,” he said. “You are the loveliest creation God ever made. But I do not want to make you unhappy. Tell me you do not want me. I will still love you. I will wait until…until you are my wife.”
“I do want you,” she whispered above the rushing sound in her ears. “I want you, Armand. But it’s wrong…”
Amber struggled feebly against him, dimly aware of a dull thudding sound before Armand suddenly slumped to his side, falling away from her. A hand was clamped roughly over her face, cutting off not only her scream but her breathing as well.
In horror, she stared up into Valdis’s face, twisted in maniacal anger. She struggled for air.
“I should kill you, here and now,” he snarled, his hand pressing harder. “I saw you sneaking out with that bastard, Hayden. I thought it was he you hungered for. But I followed you, and I watched it all. You were going to give yourself to him. You, who will be
my
wife!”