Chapter 15

 

Sabrina found the remainder of the afternoon frustrating. Everywhere she went there were misty-eyed, knowing smiles from the women and innuendos from the men. She could have stamped her foot with rage, and when Alejandro came over and patted her affectionately on the shoulder and murmured, "A wise choice, chica, a wise choice. It makes me very happy," she could have exploded with fury.

Even Bonita was no help as she fussed and worried over Sabrina's attire for the evening. "It is such a special evening, is it not, my dove?" Bonita murmured, her fat face wreathed in a huge smile.

Sabrina swallowed back the scathing reply she would have liked to utter and said instead, "Si, it is. After all, eighteen comes only once—I am very fortunate that everyone has been so kind to me today."

It wasn't the reply that Bonita wanted, but she shrugged her plump shoulders. If the little one wanted to hug the not-so-secret love affair to herself a bit longer, who could blame her? To love at eighteen is such a delight. And to be loved by a man like Señor Dangermond... Bonita closed her eyes and sighed blissfully.

Despite having found the afternoon an ordeal, as the time passed and she bathed and began to put on her clothes for the evening, Sabrina was aware of a bubble of rising excitement in her chest. Time and time again she tried to quell it, to tell herself that she was going to have a miserable time, that Brett would continue to ignore her as he had after his puzzling display in the bull ring, and yet, as she slipped on a petticoat of frothy lace and fastened the lacings of her satin slippers, she was conscious of an overriding sense of adventure, of a delirious feeling of anticipation.

From down the hall, she could hear the laughter and chatter of the other guests as they, too, changed into their finery for the evening entertainments, and the last of her anger and confusion disappeared. How could anyone be moody and troubled on a night like tonight?

A full, silvery moon could be seen rising above the tips of the trees; the air was warm and soft like silk, the scent of jasmine and roses teasing the nostrils, stirring the senses; and the sultry, throbbing notes of the guitars and marimbas could be heard drifting from the courtyard. It was a lovers' night, a night that surged with promise, the air pulsating with expectancy.

The amber-gold eyes shining like stars, her cheeks flushed with hectic color, Sabrina dressed with increasing feverishness, eager, impatient to be downstairs—to see Brett. Her gown was a gift from her father, a gorgeous creation of fine silk from Spain. The lavender-blue color was a surprisingly effective foil for Sabrina's red-gold hair and apricot-tinted skin. The neckline was rounded and low-cut, her breasts swelling above the fabric; a wide sash of deep purple circled her midriff just under her breasts; and the full skirts were trimmed with a narrow flounce of delicate blond lace. The sleeves were little puffs near her bared shoulders, and gazing at her reflection in the cheval glass, Sabrina gave a gurgle of excited laughter.

Her bright hair fell in natural, wavy ringlets halfway down her back; the candlelight turned it to molten fire as she moved about the room. Bonita's silver bracelets tinkled merrily on her wrists, huge hoops of silver glittered between the strands of fiery hair, and whenever she walked, the faint scent of lemon blossoms lingered in the air. Tossing Bonita a kiss, a smile of anticipation on her full mouth, Sabrina hurried out of her room, eager to face whatever excitement and adventure the night might bring.

And it was an evening to remember, Brett looming up out of nowhere as she reached the bottom of the stairs. For a long, timeless moment they stared at one another, the stunned expression in the jade-green eyes making Sabrina breathless and exhilarated. Those feelings never left her that night. Nor did Brett.

He was never far from her side, and though they spoke little, it was as if they communicated without words: a look, a lift of the eyebrow, a smile, and the other seemed to understand. And yet Brett did not monopolize her attention; she was the belle of the ball, and he seemed content to watch her whirl around the courtyard in the arms of her various partners, his gaze never leaving her as he stood near one of the pillars of the archways. The instant the music ceased, he would materialize at her side, making it clear that while he was willing to share her for the dances, beyond that his tolerance did not go.

Alejandro watched the proceedings with an indulgent smile, and gently he fingered the turquoise and silver bracelet that Elena had given him so long ago. "She will be safe, my love... safe and loved!" he whispered to himself.

Carlos and Francisca were not so pleased, but even their snide comments couldn't prick Sabrina's bright bubble of happiness. Even when Carlos twirled her around the courtyard and hissed angrily, "He has bewitched you! Listen to me. Follow this course, and it will bring you disaster." Sabrina smiled vaguely at him, not really caring if disaster did loom on her horizon. She would have tonight.

But Carlos was not one to give up easily, and seeing that his words were having no effect, he said slyly, "I see that Señora Morales is not here tonight. Your doing... or his?"

An icy blast cut through her warm cloak of bliss, and the soft glow shining in her eyes faded. "I invited her," Sabrina admitted, "but she sent a note declining the invitation. She said she hadn't been feeling well lately."

"And you believed her?" Carlos jeered. "You didn't question why she would avoid one of the premiere entertainments of the year?"

"No, I didn't!" Sabrina retorted. "And it doesn't matter one way or the other. Leave it be, Carlos!"

"I would like to, querida, but I don't want you to be caught in the same trap in which Constanza has found herself," Carlos persisted. "Shall I tell you exactly how your Señor Dangermond has treated her?"

"Hush!" Sabrina said sharply. "I don't want to listen to anything you have to say about him. You don't like him. You are jealous, and you want to turn me against him. I will not listen to you one minute longer." Leaving others to stare after her open-mouthed, she wrenched herself away from Carlos and left him standing in the center of the courtyard.

His face contorted with fury, he watched as she hurried to Brett's side, and then, aware of the spectacle he was making, of the sly looks and embarrassed laughs of the others, he stalked off the courtyard and disappeared into the night. For Francisca, that was the final affront. Her features bristling with rage and hostility, she accosted her brother, saying in a low, vicious tone, "I hope you are satisfied now! You have brought my husband to ruin, and now you have shamed and insulted my son in front of all our friends. I will never forgive you for this, Alejandro. Never!"

Placing his hand under Francisca's elbow, Alejandro said softly, "You are distraught, my dear. Come, let me find you a place of quiet so that you may recover yourself." Quickly and efficiently, he whisked her into the hacienda.

Once they were alone in the small sala at the rear of the hacienda, Alejandro faced his sister, his amber-gold eyes glittering with anger. "I hope," he said grimly, "you have a very good reason for nearly disrupting Sabrina's fiesta this way."

"A good reason!" Francisca screeched. "I should think the humiliation my son has suffered this day would be reason enough. First you allow that... that gringo to take unwonted liberties with Carlos's novia, and now—!" Fury choked her voice, making speech impossible.

Wearily, Alejandro muttered, "Francisca, Sabrina is not, nor has she ever been, Carlos's novia. It is what you long for, but it is not a fact, and you delude yourself in believing that there exists between your son and my daughter anything but friendship." His tone adamant, he finished, "Sabrina does not love Carlos. And I have no intention of seeing her wed a man she does not love. Cease your foolish daydreams."

It was almost too much for Francisca. The black eyes burning with rage, her hand clenched into a fist as she pressed it dramatically against her full bosom. "You will regret this, mi hermano!" she spat. "I have forgiven you much, but this, this is unforgivable!"

There was a rap on the door, and with relief Alejandro opened it to find Luis on the other side. His pleasant face full of concern, Luis asked, "Is she all right?"

Alejandro nodded and invited him into the room. Luis hurried to his wife's side murmuring, "My dove, my dove. I know you are upset, but to almost cause a scene. It is not like you. What has come over you?"

Sullenly Francisca regarded her husband. "You can ask?" she managed. "Didn't you see the gringo shame Carlos's novia today? Didn't you see what she did to him just moments ago?"

A gentle soul, ruled by his wife, Luis said softly, "It was nothing, querida. Our son is not the first young man to encounter the whims of a spirited young woman. He will recover, and no one will think anything of it—you are the only one who is making much of it." Throwing Alejandro a helpless look, he added, "As for the other, well, our dream of seeing Carlos marry Sabrina is not to be. And it was only a dream, querida. Do not be overly distressed that it did not come true." Taking encouragement from her silence, Luis took her hand and dropped an affectionate kiss on it. "Come now, smile for me and make your peace with Alejandro."

That was asking too much of Francisca. Coldly she said, "I have nothing to say to him. He has betrayed me! Take me home, Luis. I cannot bear to remain here longer."

Luis hesitated, but then seeing the expression on his wife's face, he sent Alejandro an imploring glance.

Alejandro met that glance with a commiserating smile. "Take her home, amigo. Tomorrow we will talk and find that this has been a misunderstanding."

Luis nodded and murmuring to Francisca, he urged her away.

His expression thoughtful, Alejandro rejoined his guests, mentioning that Francisca had felt unwell and that she and Luis had left.

Unaware of what had happened after she dashed off the dance floor, Sabrina took refuge a short distance away from the hacienda. The music of the guitars floated to her, and the lights from the lanterns created a golden glow in the silvery darkness of the moonlit night. Her lavender-blue gown rustling about her ankles, she rested against the mottled bark of a huge sycamore tree, letting the tranquility of the night seep into her thoughts.

Such tangled thoughts went through her mind. Brett's attitude was totally incomprehensible to her, and yet she couldn't help responding to him. She wanted to believe that some miracle had taken place, that all the past misconceptions were somehow erased, that the night's actions were a true indication of his feelings. Of Constanza she didn't want to think—she had been pleased when Constanza had written declining to attend the fiesta, but now Carlos had destroyed some of her joy. At the moment, she resented Carlos's meddling, but she was also angry with herself for allowing his vexing words to reawaken her own doubts.

A sound made her turn her head and she sighed with a mixture of relief and trepidation when she recognized Brett's tall form. He was smoking an aromatic cheroot; the pleasing scent of the tobacco drifting on the air as he approached her.

A mocking smile on his mouth, he stopped just inches from her and asked, "The belle of the ball in hiding? Or have I interrupted an assignation... again?"

She didn't like the expression in the jade-green eyes when he uttered that last sentence, and a twinge of anger shot through her. Bluntly she replied, "There is no one else about—you may scour the area if you like. I didn't come out here to meet anyone, and even if I did"—she shot him a challenging look—"it isn't your concern, is it?"

There was silence for a moment as he regarded the tip of his cheroot before tossing it away. Then, leaning his hand on the trunk of the tree near her head, he said softly, "Perhaps I want it to be my concern. What would you say about that?"

Sabrina's throat went dry, and she was aware of the crazy leap her heart gave. Mutely she stared at him, mesmerized by the potency of his gaze as it roamed over her face.

Gently his other hand moved along the column of her throat, the long fingers caressing the soft skin. Sabrina felt as if she were suffocating—he was so close, and she was trapped by the tree, his powerful body blocking any escape. But escape was the last thing on her mind. Helplessly she closed her eyes, unable to bear his scrutiny, afraid he could read what was in her heart.

"Sabrina?" he murmured, his lips barely touching her ear. "No answer? Or am I to take your silence for encouragement of my advances?"

With difficulty she managed, "And if it were?"

A great sigh escaped him, and she felt a feather-light kiss brush across her closed eyes. "If it were, then I would do this." And his mouth closed hungrily over hers, his arms pulling her against him.

He kissed her a long time, a deep, probing, urgent kiss that left Sabrina's wits swimming. She made no attempt to resist him; she couldn't have if her life depended upon it—this was Brett, and she loved him. Passionately she yielded to him, not only pressing herself to him but allowing and encouraging him to deepen the kiss, her lips parting sweetly, her tongue seeking his.

Groaning, he tore his lips from hers and muttered into her ear, "This is madness, infant—but I cannot seem to escape it." He crushed her slender form closer against his tall length, and in an oddly thick voice, he confessed, "I didn't want this to happen. I have fought against it since I held you in my arms that first day in the meadow. It seems it's a hopeless battle that I cannot win—no matter what I do."

Reveling in his embrace, thrilled by his words, she asked softly, "But it is such a terrible thing? Is there some reason why you should fight against it so?"

He gave a mirthless laugh. An ugly tone to his voice, he demanded, "You ask that of me? Me, who has known nothing but treachery at the hands of women?"

"Don't be a fool," Sabrina said urgently. "Things may have happened in your past that are painful, but they have nothing to do with us! Nothing!"

He lifted his head and gazed down at her upturned face. Reverently his finger traced her features, lingering on her mouth. "I want to believe that," he said at last. His voice deepening, he muttered, "I have to believe it, for I am bewitched by you, Sabrina." He smiled grimly as if some macabre jest had been played on him. "I dream of you—you haunt me, and though when daylight appears I can tell myself it is folly, when night falls..." Compulsively his mouth sought hers, all his torment and fury obvious from the nearly brutal way he kissed her. Lifting his lips from her bruised mouth, he murmured, "When night falls, I ache for you. You are a fever that has entered my brain, and though I try to escape you, though I tell myself I am mad, that nothing good can come from it, that you are like all the others, that you will betray and cause me nothing but pain, in the end I am left with only a gnawing desire to have you in my arms, to kiss you... to make love to you."

The last words were uttered so low, Sabrina barely heard them, but she did, and she caressed his dark head, her fingers moving through the thick black hair. Her mouth almost touching his, she whispered, "And is that so very bad? So very wrong?"

"Oh, Jesus!" Brett burst out explosively. "I don't know anymore. I only know that when I found you with Carlos, I could have killed him then and there—and strangled you for what you were doing to me. No woman has ever aroused such jealousy within me."

Sabrina started to protest, to explain, but Brett hushed her. Placing a finger on her mouth, he commanded, "No! I don't want to hear anything about what happened there—it is over and done with and behind us. You said the past has nothing to do with us, and so even your past will have nothing to do with us." The dark green eyes glittering fiercely, he said with suppressed savagery, "I want you. Every instinct I possess urges me to mount my horse and ride from here as if all the demons in hell were after me, but I cannot. I find myself deliberately walking into the web of your spinning." His fingers tightened painfully on her shoulders, and he gave another mirthless laugh. "By God, infant, but I am mad! I delude myself into believing that I am doing this to save you from Carlos, but we both know that is a lie, don't we?"

Unhappily, Sabrina's eyes searched his. For so long she had yearned to have him confess that he cared for her, but this wasn't the way she had imagined it—nor had he admitted that he loved her. Wanted her, yes. But love? Of love he did not speak. But wanting, she thought, could become love. Perhaps to a man like Brett, it was love. But there was such tormented fury in his voice, such bewildered frustration, that her heart ached for him. And maybe a little for herself—it was obvious that he was a reluctant lover. He wanted her, but it was clear that it was against his will. Yet she knew that she could not let this moment escape, that even if he had not said the exact words she wanted so desperately to hear, she would take what he offered. In time she could prove him wrong, prove that while other women may have hurt and betrayed him, she never would, that he would never find treachery in her arms. Only love. And he would love her—in time. Time was all she needed....

When she remained silent, he shook her. The jade-green eyes narrowing, he asked roughly, "No answer? No glib reply? No satisfied smile now that you have me groveling at your feet?"

Inexplicably her mood lifted, and she was filled with confidence, a growing certainty that all would be right. A tiny smile curved her mouth. "Groveling?" she repeated in a teasing tone. "I hardly think so, querido! Demanding is more like it."

He relaxed at her reply, and a mocking light dancing in his eyes, he murmured, "I have always understood that meek lovers are either fools or fops, I am neither, as you will soon discover."

A glint of daring in the amber-gold eyes, she said recklessly, "Will I?"

His mouth took on a frankly sensuous curve, and bending closer, he promised huskily, "Oh, yes, infant. Oh, yes!" And once again he swept her up into a dizzying embrace, that hard mouth seeking and demanding as it closed over hers.

There was a titter of laughter nearby, the intrusive sound of quickly smothered voices, and with obvious reluctance Brett lifted his lips from hers. He sent a smoldering look across his shoulder and muttered with suppressed violence, "I seem to have chosen the wrong place and time for what I want to say." A sleepy fire flickering in his eyes, he added, "And do."

Sabrina laughed breathlessly, the blood singing in her veins, excitement coursing through her entire body at the expression on his face. He must love her! And if there had not been the interruption, she was positive he would have admitted it to her. She threw him a kiss, and dancing away from him, she murmured, "But there will be another time... won't there?"

He made no move to stop her, and there was a tender smile on that chiseled mouth as he drawled, "Of that you can be certain!"

The remainder of the evening passed in a happy blur for Sabrina. She danced, she ate, and she laughed with gay abandon, the sound of Brett's words a joyous refrain in her brain.

* * *

Such was not the case for Carlos. Stalking off the courtyard after Sabrina had left him so summarily, he had immediately left the hacienda and ridden to Constanza. Leaving his horse behind her house, he stomped across the patio only to stop abruptly when he found Constanza sitting there alone.

It was not late, and she had come outside to enjoy the warmth of the night, the house too stuffy from the heat of the day. A lantern hung nearby, casting a golden pool of light over her; a pitcher of sangria and a glass sat near her hand, and upon seeing Carlos, she murmured, "Shall I call the servant for another glass? Or would you prefer something stronger?"

"Stronger!" he snarled.

Constanza clapped her hands, and a few minutes later, Carlos was sprawled in the chair next to Constanza glaring at the amber liquid in his glass. He drank the whiskey in one gulp and then poured himself another from a decanter. His voice surly, he demanded, "Why didn't you attend the fiesta today?"

Constanza smiled. "Because," she said dryly, "I did not want to be as you are now—furious and filled with frustration. Am I to understand that things did not go as you wished?"

"Dios! I have never been so enraged in my life!" Carlos burst out, his black eyes glittering with anger. "I have had to watch the gringo lay claim to Sabrina and have been insulted by Sabrina myself. I could kill them both!"

Her features bland, Constanza asked, "What happened? Nothing you cannot undo, I trust?"

Briefly Carlos gave her a summary of the day's events. When Carlos spoke of the bullfight, of Brett's kiss to Sabrina, Constanza's composure slipped, and her face paled. Noticing it, Carlos smiled nastily. "Disturbs you, does it?" Baring his teeth, he growled, "Think then, how it made me feel! Por Dios! But I could have slit his throat then and there. As for my beloved Tio..." Eyes narrowing, he promised, "Someday he will pay for this."

"You have given up then?" she asked anxiously. "You no longer hope to marry Sabrina?"

Carlos laughed, an ugly sound that shattered the quiet night air. "Give up? Never! I cannot—without her fortune I am ruined! I must have it or be reduced to thieving to keep myself."

Constanza relaxed. "What do you plan to do? How can you stop what is happening? If Alejandro approves and Sabrina welcomes his suit, what can be done?"

"I can kill him."

Constanza's dark eyes dilated, and leaning forward, she said passionately, "No! Harm him, Carlos, and I promise you that you shall live to regret it."

His face tightened, and he demanded in a dangerous tone, "Are you threatening me, querida? You will let this gringo drive a wedge between us? We, who have shared so much together?"

Forcing a smile, Constanza said, "I would never threaten you, Carlos... but tell me—if I planned to deprive you of Sabrina, wouldn't you try to stop me?"

Carlos nodded, a gleam of respect flitting through the black eyes. "So I would, querida. So I would." Some of his fury lessening, he mused, "We are so alike. So perfectly matched that nothing will stop us from gaining our goals—Sabrina and her fortune for me, and the gringo and his fortune for you."

The dangerous moment past, Constanza smiled at him, this time more naturally. "You are a rogue, Carlos. Tell me, what do you plan?"

Moodily Carlos stared out into the night. "Bah! I have no plan. I can think of nothing... yet." Slanting her a glance, he asked, "Have you thought of something?"

"Perhaps. But it is going to cost you a great deal of money."

Carlos made a face. "You know that our finances are not overabundant at this time."

"Do you want Sabrina or not?"

"I want her!" he snapped.

"Then you will find a way to give me what I want, won't you?"

"Yes!" Carlos snarled, his mouth tight.

Constanza looked down at her hands as they rested on the pine table. "We may gain Sabrina for you—she is a woman and can be controlled by her father... or guardian. But as for my becoming Señora Dangermond, I doubt it. A man cannot be coerced into marriage the way a woman can." She lifted her eyes, and Carlos was startled at the pain he saw there.

Moved, he reached across the table for her hands. "He means so much to you?"

She smiled wryly. "Oh, yes. So much that while I know I cannot have him myself, I cannot bear to see him wed another." Her voice hardening, the fine jaw rigid, she added, "I will do anything to stop him from marrying Sabrina. She has everything—money, youth, and position—while I have nothing. I will not let her have him, too."

"And you have a way to take him away from her? To stop the announcement of their betrothal that is sure to come soon?"

"Perhaps not stop it, but certainly destroy it and make her look at him with loathing, if she is the woman I think she is...."

Carlos regarded her, noting the grim line of her mouth, the unusual hardness of her eyes. "How?"

Constanza smiled. "I will not tell you now. First you must provide me with gold—a great deal of gold, Carlos, for when I am through with your Sabrina, I will not be able to remain here in Nacogdoches. I will have to leave forever, or she will learn the truth and know that we lied to her. And so, when you have given me enough money to pay my passage to Spain, to keep me in luxury for the rest of my life, then I shall tell you of my plan."

"We do not have a great deal of time," Carlos persisted. "Something must be done immediately."

A steely smile on her lips, Constanza answered, "It can be done just as soon as you keep your part of the bargain—a fortune in gold. When I have that, I will deliver Sabrina into your arms."