I jumped out of the embrace, my heart hammering. The plan that would take me home was now in motion. Straightening my spine, I held my chin up and walked toward him.
Father marched up to me, fury masking his face.
“Father, I—” His slap landed hard against my left cheek, the force causing me to stumble a few steps back. I cupped my stinging face, stunned.
Father’s eyes glared. He lifted his hand to strike me again. “You trollop! How—”
From the corner of my eye, a flash of movement bolted toward my aggressor.
My father’s cry of surprise silenced as his back slammed into a tree, the stable hands grabbing him by the collar.
I gasped at the rage emanating from his being, his body taut as he towered over my father.
“Strike her again, and I guarantee you will not walk out of here. Do you understand?” he growled.
“Who do you think you are? Unhand me, you dirty Mex—” The threat faded as Father stared at the stable hand. His face then drained of color. “Oh, forgive me, Carlos. I did not recognize you,” said my father, now as white as soured milk.
The stable hand continued to push him against the tree, his eyes overflowing with rage. “I do not care who you are to her. She will not be mishandled!”
My father shook his head vigorously. “Of course not, Carlos. I would never lift a hand against my daughter. It was the shock of seeing her acting against her upbringing that caused me a moment of weakness,” he blurted out, nervously. “I now see you both were suffering from a weakness of your own. I am overjoyed that you are both pleased with the match.”
I stood there, not understanding what the interaction meant. I tried to articulate my confusion, but the words caught in my throat as my father’s last word resonated. Match.
I froze, staring at the stranger. “You are the man I was to marry?”
Carlos turned, letting my father go. “Yes, Corazon, my name is Carlos David Galtero De La Luz. I am to be your future husband.”
“Were to be my future husband,” I corrected, anger settling in my core. How dare he? He lied, making a fool of me. I glared, my eyes shooting daggers at his head.
My father cleared his throat and straightened his posture. “What is this, Meredith? Perhaps the excitement of your nuptials clouds your thoughts.”
“No. The answer is no,” I said, still trying to impale Carlos with my stare. How dare he? How dare they?
My father stomped his foot like a child. “This is ridiculous. I did not raise you to behave this way.”
“What you meant to say is that you did not raise me!” Growing anger churned in my stomach. I did not like being played the fool, by either of them. There were plans for my future. Both men were irrelevant in my life.
“Do not be insolent. You will marry this man. I and...” He swept a hand around the garden. “Many guests are now witnesses to your…weakness.”
I turned, surprised to see a few couples watching from the sideline. I scowled at my father. “The answer is still no. I would rather gouge my eyes out with a moldy, rusty, jagged spoon.” I said, ready to damn my reputation.
Carlos offered me his arm, his lips twitching. The thought of him finding this amusing raged a fire in my chest. He continued to offer me an escort. “Let us discuss this in my study.”
I stared at his arm as if it had morphed into a two-headed snake. “No, thank you. There is nothing to discuss. As you so skillfully manipulated out of me, I have no plans to marry anyone.”
“Meredith, you do not have a say in this,” said my father under his breath, his body stiff as a saluting cadet.
“We will discuss this in private,” Carlos interrupted. “Please, come to the study.”
I huffed but nodded, realizing that setting the record straight to all involved parties would be the proper way of moving forward. My father still entertained the idea I needed to marry this man which meant I would have to make my own way home. But to do that, I would need to ask Carlos or his family for help. That thought further churned my stomach.
We returned to the main house, curious gazes darting to us as we wove through the crowded home. Music waltzed through the golden-lit room, creating a magical feel as dancing partners swayed across the dance floor, spinning to the tempo. Under different circumstances, I would be enchanted with the festivities; however there was no time for frivolities.
“Carlos David!” a woman shrieked as she approached and launched herself into his arms.
“Alva.” Carlos embraced her and placed a kiss on her cheeks.
I frowned at the way my chest squeezed at his obvious adoration of the beautiful woman.
“We were worried. You are late!” she said, smiling up at him, wearing a sapphire evening gown of silk that hugged her curves, her dark hair styled in a fashionable updo.
The woman could be a model for the most fashionable houses in New York. The scent of lavender hung around her. She turned toward me, noticing my disheveled hair and then stared at my puffy lips.
Her gaze went to Carlos, then returned to me. A smile tugged at her lips. “You must be Miss Stanford? It is a pleasure to meet you.”
I took her outstretched hand.
“My name is Alva Galtero De La Luz. I am Carlos’ sister,” she said, amusement shone in her dark eyes.
“Oh, pleasure to meet you. Miss Galtero,” I said, nodding.
Carlos scanned the crowd. “Alva, please escort the Stanfords to the study. I will find our parents. There is a discussion that must be had.”
“I will come with you. This matter will soon resolve,” said Father.
Carlos nodded, then stepped away.
I watched the two men part through the crowd. My gaze tried to burrow holes in their backs.
“My, I would hate to be the recipient of that stare.”
I turned to Alva. “Trust me, it is well-deserved.”
She giggled. “Usually it takes my brother a full day to get under your skin. By the looks of it, he might have outdone himself.”
“Yes, it looks that way.”
Alva hooked her arm around mine and guided me to the study. Large potted plants lined the corridors, leading to a small courtyard.
“I am truly excited to have a new sister. You are lovelier than the photo your father shared. I adore your dark hair and light eyes. You are beautiful.”
“Thank you. You are too kind, but I cannot take credit for something that is not of my doing,” I said. “And I am sorry to say I will not be marrying your brother. There has been a misunderstanding.”
Alva stopped our walk, her lovely face furrowed. “That is such sour news. We have all been waiting to welcome you. And I really never thought of beauty that way. You are wise.”
“Thank you,” I said.
Alva continued toward the study, pensive in thought. After a few seconds, she clicked her tongue. “I do say, the single women of the rancho and Aliso will be celebrating.” She grimaced. “Since the news of my brother’s betrothal broke, they have been in mourning.”
“He is free now,” I said, annoyed at the tightness in my chest. Why did I care who wanted him? He was a stranger to me. Yet, I quelled the urge to bring my fingers up to my tingling lips.
Alva opened the study door.
Bookshelves and stern-looking portraits lined the walls, and a sitting area stood in the corner, next to a wide, tall window. A large mahogany partner desk sat on the opposite side, with two blue winged-back chairs angled in front. “You have a lovely home.”
“It has been in my family for generations.” She paused, tilting her head. “Now, please tell me, why do you not want to marry my brother?”
I shook my head, taken aback by her boldness and inquisitiveness—two qualities I admired. “My father made this arrangement without my knowledge.”
We strolled to the sitting area, taking a seat. My eyes roamed the handsome room. A faint smell of cigars hung in the air. Did Carlos work in this room?
Alva sat across from me, watching me with curiosity on her face. “Do you ever want to marry?”
I took a deep breath. “Yes.”
“And would you want your husband to be handsome, rich, educated, kind, and charming?”
“Yes?” I said, watching her eyes light up.
“Then you are in luck. My brother, as much as it pains me to admit it, is all of those things and more. The more being also annoying and vain, but in his defense, I am his sister.”
I hid a grin; Alva was a breath of fresh air. “He lied to me, letting me believe he was a stable hand.” I tried not to consider her words. What would a life here hold? I shooed the thought away.
“You kissed him not knowing who he was?” Her eyes rounded, and her smile widened.
My cheeks warmed, embarrassed about how much of an open book I was.
She gave an exasperated sigh. “You are the type of woman he needs. A woman who knows her mind and acts accordingly. Someone who does not fawn over him. I hope you reconsider. I—”
The door swung open.
Carlos and an older couple walked in, followed by my father. Carlos’ parents were handsome. Time had been good to them. Their dark hair and beautiful olive skin had a glow as bright as their smiles. The genuine kind greetings calmed my erratic heartbeat. I took a deep breath. My future hung in the balance.
* * *
I sat next to my father, each on a winged chair facing the desk, my mind a chaotic cacophony of thoughts. Father’s hand lay over mine, his grip on the verge of cutting my blood flow.
“This has been all my fault. I assumed that keeping my daughter’s engagement a surprise would make the celebration a much more joyous one,” he explained. “But my plan was a mistake. She now needs to take some time to warm up to the man she will marry. It has been the shock that has made her so disagreeable.”
“Is that true, my dear?” the patriarch of the family asked me, sitting behind the desk, eyeing my father with distrust.
“It is,” Father replied. “unless Carlos prefers my other daughter.” As he chuckled, he turned to me.
I stopped breathing, seeing the truth in his eyes. If I did not agree to this marriage, my sister would take my place. A heaviness plunged into my chest. I fought the urge to kick him in the shin and bolt out of the room.
“If this is not her wish, the money we provided to ensure your family would be comfortable through their relocation and new accommodations can be returned and the contract dissolved,” Mr. Galtero continued.
“Yes,” agreed Carlos, standing behind his father. “I do not want a reluctant bride. Or, maybe, your second daughter could be a better choice.”
My gaze darted to his amused face. Heat coursed through my veins. I had been sold. The realization kicked me in the stomach. Father’s new fortune was their payment, and the funds had been spent. No money could be returned, which meant the marriage would be to either me or my underage sister. The anger flowing through me brewed like an oncoming storm. I would not sacrifice my sister. Father had the power to force her. I would marry, but I would make the marriage and my father beyond uncomfortable. “I will marry you.” I announced, my heart squeezing in my chest. “Everything can stay as planned.”
My father loosened his grip and smiled at my future in-laws. “I knew she would see reason.”
Carlos watched me closely. “I would like a few words with my future bride. In private.” The lightness in his eyes gone.
“You are to be married. I believe that is allowed,” Father said as he stood from his seat.
The Galteros nodded and shared their well-wishes.
Alva approached my chair and kissed my cheek, squeezing my hands, her eyes shining with joy.
She was the only positive in this predicament.
“We will be sisters. I cannot wait to introduce you to our clan.”
I gave a fake smile and watched everyone file out of the room and close the door behind them. The room grew silent.
Carlos took a seat behind his desk, his eyes continued to study me as he leaned in the chair. “Corazon, if looks could kill, your father and I would be six feet under by now. I do not believe you had a change of heart. I saw the moment you realized your father could not pay back the sum he received to ensure your family had everything they needed to become part of ours.”
“I gather marrying below your class would require a steep investment?” I asked, venom dripping over every word.
“It did. I did not want my future in-laws to live in a rented room as your Father was doing. The Galteros take care of their own.”
I scoffed. “So you paid for me!”
“It might seem like that, but like you said, it was more of an investment.” He chuckled at my glare. “But I was unaware you were not privy to it all. I meant what I said. I am not interested in a reluctant bride.”
“Then dissolve the contract. Let me go home,” I pleaded, shifting in my seat.
He leaned back in his chair. “No.”
“No? But I am not willing.”
A smug smile appeared on his lips. “Thirty days. I am asking you to marry me tomorrow as planned, and if after thirty days you feel you would rather gouge your eyes out with a moldy spoon than stay in the marriage, we will have it annulled. I will provide you with enough funds so that you and your sister can live comfortably.”
I sat up in my chair. His words were not making any sense. This could be nothing more than a lie or a jest. “If you recall correctly, it was a moldy, rusty, jagged spoon.”
“I stand corrected,” he said, leaning toward me.
“Why?” I asked, searching his face.
“Because I never lose.”
I scoffed. “And if I refuse?”
“Then I will ask your father for our money.” His lips twitched. “Or maybe ask to meet your sister.”
“You cad!”
A shoulder lifted, then dropped. “I have been called worse. Nevertheless, the debt will be collected. Thirty days.”
All humor disappeared from his handsome face. His offer was genuine.
I stood, my thoughts clearing. Thirty days could become the vehicle to a comfortable life for me and Charlotte. I could supplement our needs with my future income or invest it to ensure a long, stable life. This was a guaranteed win. Nothing could make me want to stay longer. “I accept your offer.” I extended my hand toward him. “Thirty days after the wedding, I will go home.”
He smiled as he took my hand, his gaze holding me captive. “In thirty days, Corazon, you will call El Ocaso home.”