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Authors: Marie Higgins

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Chapter Seventeen

 

The brothel had not yet started the evening ritual, and Vivian didn’t want to be anywhere near the whores or their guests when that happened. Anton was out back by the fence repairing something her mother had asked him to do, which gave Vivian a lot of time on her hands.

Still upset about Eleanor’s way of life, she didn’t want to talk to any of the
painted ladies, but when she walked into the kitchen, a few sat at the servant’s table chatting. One jumped up and motioned to the chair.

“You may sit here if you wish.”

Vivian nodded and sat. One of the women placed a plate of steak and potatoes in front of her. The other women in the room stared at her, so Vivian proceeded to eat, hoping they’d stop looking at her as if she’d grown two heads.

The whore across from her leaned back in her chair and folded her arms over her ample bosom. Although the gown she wore displayed a lot of skin at her neck and chest, at least the red silk material covered more than what
Vivian had seen last night when they first entered the brothel. The color of her dress matched her fiery hair perfectly.

“Miss
Vivian, I hope you don’t mind me saying, I’m very happy to finally meet Eleanor’s daughter. Your mother has spoken of you quite a bit.”

Vivian
had lifted a bite of her potatoes to her mouth, but paused as she glanced at the woman. “She has?”

“Oh, yes.” The
brunette who had offered her chair earlier, sat beside the redhead and nudged her friend’s elbow. “Nancy here has known Eleanor longer than the rest of us. But even I have heard your mother speak of you, too.”

Bile rose in Vivian’s throat, but she
shoved the potatoes in her mouth and forced herself to eat, nonetheless.

“Did you know she had an investigator keep track of you for many years?” Nancy asked.

When Vivian swallowed, the potatoes almost stuck. “Yes. Eleanor mentioned that.”

“She wanted to know everything you and your brother were doing, how you were growing up, and what you looked like. Whenever mail arrived from the investigator, it brightened her day.”

The brunette reached across the table and touched Vivian’s hand. “She loves you and your brother very much, and missed you greatly.”

Irritation stiffened
Vivian’s spine, and she arched an eyebrow. “Well, she had a poor way of showing her affection. Both of her children never knew what happened to her, except that she’d left them to live with a wealthy man.”

Both whores gasped. Even the cook whirled from the stove with her hand covering her mouth.

“Oh, dearie,” the cook said, her double-chins wobbling as she shook her head. “You couldn’t have been more wrong. Your mother loved you unconditionally, and wanted to show her children how much she missed them, but her husband—your father wouldn’t allow it.”

Suddenly the food wasn’t appealing any longer, and
Vivian pushed the plate away. “Yes, my mother told me he was ashamed of her...er, career choice, and rightly so. What decent man would want a whore for a wife?”

Pink covered the faces of the women across the table as sadness coated their expression. The cook huffed and shook her head.

“But she wasn’t a whore then, Miss Vivian. She had changed herself and wanted a new life. She married a caring man and had two wonderful children. Changing our life is one thing all of us
whores
want.”

Pain gripped
Vivian’s chest and made her head throb. She scooted her chair out and stood. “I appreciate your words, but I have had many years of hatred built up in me. I cannot change how I feel.” She straightened. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a terrible headache.”

Thankfully, the other women didn’t try and stop her. She marched out of the kitchen, hurried through the parlor, and darted up the stairs before anyone could see the tears building in her eyes. She refused to cry, although confusion swam in her head, making her want to believe that her mother had cared for her all of these years.

She walked into the room and closed the door behind her. Emotion clogged her throat as tears continued to prick her eyes. She sat at the vanity and looked at herself in the mirror. For so many years, she’d carried the guilt that her mother left because of something she may have done as a child. Then, when Vivian met Anton and realized she had the passion her father hated her mother for, it left a sour taste in her mouth as fear gnawed at her gut. She didn’t want to become like her mother.

Of course, back then she hadn’t fully understood what her mother had become. All this time, could it have been her father who was in the wrong? Eleanor loved her children enough to have an investigator follow them throughout their years of growing up. Apparently, Eleanor had wanted her family after all.

Vivian groaned and pressed her palms against her forehead, praying the confused pain in her skull would leave. She hated feeling this way.

The squeak from the door opening pulled her attention to her visitor. Eleanor walked in and stopped when she saw
Vivian.

“I need to get something.” She pointed to her armoire.

“Of course. After all, this is your room.”

Her mother smiled, even while pain still etched in her eyes.
Vivian’s heart tugged with confusion again, squeezing her chest tighter.

“I declare if Polly’s head wasn’t attached, the poor girl would lose that, too.” Eleanor shuffled through her shoes. “I don’t understand how that girl can misplace so many things in one day.” She pulled out a red pair of satin button up booted heels. “It’s a good thing we have the same size in feet.”

She smiled at Vivian, and then turned to leave, but Vivian reached a hand out and grabbed her arm. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Certainly
, my dearest.”

“Do you know what Matthew did when he was sixteen that put him out of commission for a few months?”

Eleanor stared at Vivian for the longest time in silence, her eyes filling with tears. She nodded. “He broke his arm when he fell out of the tree. Apparently, he’d been watching a girl in her bedroom window like a Peeping Tom and was discovered when he accidentally fell out, breaking his arm in the process.”

“Do you know what happened when I turned eighteen?”

Keeping her smile, Eleanor stepped closer. She shifted the shoes under one arm as she stroked Vivian’s cheek with her fingers. “You were offered a teaching position at the school once you graduated, but you turned it down to take care of your sickly father.”

A dam of tears leaked through
Vivian’s eyes, those she’d wanted to keep hidden. Her lips trembled when she nodded. “You...you really kept track of us?”

The shoes dropped from her mother’s arms when she gathered
Vivian against her bosom. Eleanor stroked her daughter’s hair with a loving hand.

“Every day of your lives.
Since your father wouldn’t let me near, I needed to know how you fared. I missed you so much—” A sob stopped her words.

Years of anguish and unhappiness poured from
Vivian as she clung to her mother and cried. How she wanted to erase the past and have her mother in her life every day, but it was impossible. For now, she must savor the moment and cherish it.

“Please forgive me, my darling daughter.” Eleanor kissed
Vivian’s head. “I wanted to be with my children, but couldn’t. Your father knew how to rip my heart out and punish me for lying to him, but I knew my children suffered along with me.”

“We did.”
Vivian raised her head and looked at her mother through a teary vision. “Every day you were gone.”

“But I’m here now.” She smiled and wiped the tears from
Vivian’s cheeks. “I want to be here from this day forward. I want to be your mother...if you’ll allow me.”

“Oh, Mother.” She cried harder and hugged her, burying h
er face in her mother’s bosom.

Vivian
didn’t even realize her mother moved them to the bed until she laid on soft pillows as a blanket was thrown over her. Her mother gathered her in her embrace again and held her until Vivian fell asleep.

* * * *

Anton slowed the horse Eleanor had given him as he neared the sleeping town he and Vivian had visited earlier that day. He prayed there would be a good excuse not to take Vivian with him this time, because he didn’t want to upset Lucinda or have her worried. Thankfully, when he checked on Vivian, she was resting peacefully. Eleanor had told him they’d talked, and Vivian forgave her, which made his heart light.

Now...if everything would work out perfect with Lucinda, his future might be getting bet
ter, as well.

Clouds covered the moon and didn’t give him much light as he crept back to Lucinda’s
hacienda
. Every few feet he stopped and surveyed the area, keeping a sharp eye out for his uncle or the ruthless men who worked for him. A small wind blew against his face, slightly cooling his heated cheeks. Trying to keep hidden was more work than he’d anticipated.

Finally, he made it to the yard, then
through the gate. He stopped again and listened. In the distance, the gentle strum of a guitar and familiar folk song from one of the neighboring homes drifted through the air, bringing back the reminder of his lost years as a boy...years that had been filled with joy and love. Although his
padre
loved him, the love was stronger with Lucinda’s
familia.

Through the kitchen window, a low burning lantern sat on the table. Resting his hand on the doorknob, he took a deep breath and prayed all would go his way. He turned the handle and the door clicked open. With his heart beating in a fierce rhythm, he stepped inside. A cinnamon scent wafted through the air and shook his memory. He grinned. She had made his favorite sticky buns.


Niňera
? Lucinda? Are you there?” he spoke in Spanish.

The rustle of material came from the far corner of the darkened hallway, and he sucked in his breath. From the shadows formed a figure of a round, short woman, waddling closer.

“Lucinda? Is that you?”

“Stand by the light,” the familiar voice commanded.

Anton smiled as tears stung his eyes. With a chest tight with emotion, he kept his stance straight as he walked to the table to stand next to the lantern.

From the quiet room came her gasp. Through the semi-darkness he saw her hand fly to her throat. “
Anton.

Tears of joy filled his eyes. “Lucinda? Please do not deny my presence. I need you now.”

The older woman took another step closer, still not quite into the light. Her hands twisted against her middle as she shook her head. “It is very dangerous, my boy. Men want to kill you, and they will kill me if I say I know you.”

“It is
Juanito, the half-brother of my
padre
. He is trying to claim Padre Island. I cannot allow him to do this. The inheritance is mine, not his.”

“He is a powerful man.”



, but he must be stopped. And I am the only man who can stop him.”

“Impossible,” she grumbled.

“No, Lucinda. All I need is to take my father’s ring and my certificate of birth to the King of Spain and prove my identity.”


Juanito Ballí plans on stopping you.”

“I will not allow him this privilege.”

She stepped closer, the light barely touching her face. Wrinkles he had never seen before creased the older woman’s skin around her sad eyes and frown. Pain tugged at his heart.

“I believe you,” she whispered.

“Tell no one of our meeting. I have what Juanito wants, and I will not relent.”

Her hand moved up to swipe under her moist eyes. “May the Good Lord be with you,
then.”

He walked to the door and stopped before opening it. “Lucinda?” He looked over his shoulder at the woman who was as close to him as his
madre
. “How did Juanito find you when he never knew about you before?”

“I do not know. But he has ways. He sent one of his men to warn me—a slender, young, handsome man that did not appear dangerous when I first talked with him. He was charming when he showed me your picture and asked questions about your past. I told him I was your
niňera
. He looked surprised at first, then he became angry. That was when he threatened me.”

Confusion swept over Anton and he shook his head. “There was only one man?”



.”

“Very strange.
I thought my uncle sent all of his henchmen to do his dirty deeds. How long ago did this happen?”

“Just the other day.”

He nodded. “My uncle knows I am here. Nonetheless, I will keep a cautious eye out for a man of this description.” He opened the door.

“Anton?”

He met Lucinda’s gaze.

“Please be careful.”

A knot of emotion caught in his throat and made it hard to swallow. “I will.”

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