"Are you trying to tell me that you and Beth have a long-standing liaison—one that started when she was barely seventeen and had been married only a matter of weeks?" Sebastian asked incredulously, making no attempts to hide his disbelief.
Sebastian wasn't to know it, but his words gave Rafael a shock—he had known Beth had been young when he had met her, but not that young, nor that her marriage had been as recent as Sebastian stated. Unconsciously he frowned, aware suddenly that there was something about what had happened that afternoon in New Orleans that he should have questioned. But he
dismissed it instantly. This was not the time to examine something that had happened four years ago, and moreover it changed nothing—no matter how young she had been or how newly married, she had been Lorenzo's mistress and he'd seen it with his own eyes, heard her cries of encouragement to the other man before he had broken them apart. Memory of her with Lorenzo made it easier for him to give Sebastian an entirely erroneous view of his relationship with Beth Ridgeway, that and the strong desire, for Sebastian's own good of course, to make his cousin realize how very foolish this attachment with a married woman was. Coolly he queried, "What difference does that make? Since when has a young age or a new husband kept lovers apart?"
Sebastian swallowed tightly, feeling as if the ground was opening up under his feet, revealing a huge, awesome black pit. He could have sworn that Beth was not the type of woman to be any man's mistress, yet he had seen her in Rafael's arms, had seen Rafael carry her off into her rooms, and even more damning, Rafael himself had just admitted that they were lovers, had been lovers for quite some time. Chagrined and just a little sick at heart, Sebastian glared back at Rafael, wanting to call him a liar, but suddenly afraid that Rafael might be telling the truth—just because Beth had resisted his rather cautious overtures didn't necessarily mean that she was not open to the lures of other men. But he simply did not or would not believe it of her, and stubbornly he said, "I don't give a damn what you say, she is not that type of woman! I may be young and I may not have your experience, but I can spot a soiled dove as well as the next man—and that is one thing that Beth Ridgeway is not!"
Regarding the tip of his cigarillo with interest, Rafael asked casually, 'Then how would you explain what you saw tonight?"
Sebastian's fists clenched and for one moment he almost threw himself at the other man. There was no other explanation for what he had seen, at least none that made any sense at the moment. But even if Beth had been Rafael's mistress for a number of years, it changed nothing in his heart, she had come to mean
too much to him for Sebastian to easily dismiss the tenderness and affection he had for her.
Knowing that he had dealt Sebastian a bitter blow and not wishing for an unreconcilable estrangement between them, Rafael walked slowly over to where Sebastian sat and, putting a friendly hand on the other's shoulder, he said gently, "Whether she is my mistress or not makes little difference, amigo —she is not for you. Would you be satisfied to have her only as a mistress? And do you really want a woman that you had to steal from her husband?" His dark face intent, his voice deepening with emotion, he asked, "If you could steal her from him, what would stop another from doing the same to you? Could you Ifve with that for the rest of your life, never knowing wTien she could be tempted away from you? Somehow, I think not."
Everything that Rafael said was true, but Sebastian fought against it, not willing to renounce his claim to Beth's affection. It was a fact that some of his reluctance to relinquish whatever claims he felt he had on Beth had to do with pride, but his heart was also deeply involved, perhaps more deeply involved than anyone realized, including Sebastian; and at the moment he was only aware of a throbbing sort of pain and disillusionment. He had enough confidence in his physical attributes to know that if he ever did capture Beth's affections that he would never fear another man taking her away from him—but that was before he had known that there was another man involved. Nathan he had always discounted, but Rafael was another story, and if Beth loved him, which she must in the face of Rafael's startling revelations, then he was indeed fighting a losing battle. Painfully he said, "Perhaps you are right, but don't ask me to stop loving her simply because you say she is your mistress." The green eyes full of anguish, he glanced away and said in a muffled tone, "She is one of the loveliest women I have ever seen, and I find it hard to believe that she has been having an adulterous liaison behind her husband's back for years."
Rafael's features were purposely blank in the face of Sebastian's unhappiness, but if he'd had Beth's slender neck in his hands, he would have broken it. He detested
the role he was forced to play, nor did he like lying to Sebastian, but feeling as he did, thinking that he was protecting the other from a promiscuous little bitch, it was a grim necessity. Attempting for a light comment he murmured, "At the risk of finding myself challenged, I think, amigo, that your conception of the undoubtedly beautiful Beth is distorted. She is not, my young friend, the angel you perceive... believe me, / know!''
Flashing him a look of dislike, Sebastian replied heatedly, "And I think you are the one who has the distorted image! Consuela filled you with such hatred for all of her sex that you would not recognize a good woman even if she walked up and slapped your arrogant face for you!"
A strangely bitter smile curving his mouth, Rafael admitted, "Perhaps. And before we come to blows over her, I think it would be wise to drop the subject, si?"
Unwillingly Sebastian agreed, dejectedly aware that nothing could be gained by discussing the topic further. Manfully he gathered himself together, determined not to reveal, any more than he had already, how devastating Rafael's disclosures had been. Rising to his feet, the pistol still clasped in his hand, he said quietly, "There seems to be nothing more to be said between us, so I shall bid you good morning." The young face stiff and almost unbearably proud, Sebastian added, "1 trust you have no intention of seeking satisfaction for my attempts to purloin your property?"
Suddenly angry and showing it, Rafael snapped, "Don't try those dandified airs with me, joven! You know damn rightly I have no intention of doing such a thing!"
Some of his own anger boiling to the surface, Sebastian snarled back, "It might be better if you did!"
His eyes narrowing, the handsome nose flaring at the nostrils, Rafael asked softly, too softly, "And what the hell do you mean by that?"
His mouth sulky, Sebastian muttered, "You know very well what I mean. I find you with the woman I love in your arms, the woman I told you I planned to marry, and you tell me she is your mistress! Has been for four years. And then like some lapdog you expect
me to just shrug it off and continue as we were." His voice thickening, he spat, "Well, it won't wash, cousin! You may have the woman, but I don't have to like it... or you!"
"Now goddammit, listen to me, Sebastian—" Rafael began, only to have his words stop abruptly as Sebastian stalked out of the room, slamming the door with unnecessary force as he went.
Fury and dismay tangled in Rafael's throat as he stared at the shut door, realizing with a fierce sorrow that the deep affection he and Sebastian shared for one another might very well have been shattered irreparably. He considered stormingi^fter Sebastian and telling him... what, for God's sake? That Beth Ridgeway was the "angel" Sebastian thought? And that he had taken base advantage of her virtue and innocence? Hardly! Not when he had seen her with his own eyes in Lorenzo's arms and not when she had offered herself to him immediately after Lorenzo's taking of her. What kind of a friend would he be if he allowed Sebastian to become entangled with a woman like that?
His eyes bleak, he stared blindly around the room. Far better to have Sebastian hate the very sight of him, he decided grimly, than just to stand by and watch Beth work her wiles on the younger man. But that didn't lessen the pain he felt as he remembered Sebastian's final words to him. Jesus! How in the hell did I get myself into this? he wondered angrily.
More weary than he could ever r
ecall being, Rafael walked into his bedchamber and, sitting on a huge bed with soaring decorative iron posts, he moodily removed his boots, letting them drop where they may. He flung himself back on the bed and stared for a long moment at the open-beamed ceiling above before reaching over and almost viciously pulling on the bell rope that would summon one of the servants from their quarters. God knows what time it was, but if they aren't up, they should be, he thought irrationally.
Not too many minutes later there was a soft tap on the outer door of the rooms and not moving from the bed he barked irritably, "'Entre!''
A Mexican of an undeterminable age appeared mo-216
mentarily in his bedroom. The fat brown face broke into a wide grin at the sight of the dark, lean figure on the bed and the man said happily, "Senor Rafael! You are here at last! I could not believe my ears when I heard your bell ring."
Rafael smiled slightly, ''Buenos dias, Luis. I know the hour is unreasonable, but could you arrange a bath for me? I feel I have half the dirt of the Republic on me."
''Si, senor. Of course, for you anything is possible." The dark eyes sly, he asked, **Shall I rouse Juanita to serve you? She has been most persistent in wanting to know of your return."
His mouth pulling wryly, Rafael shook his head. "Luis, I need a bath, not a woman."
In a remarkably brief time he was sitting in a brass tub filled with hot soapy water, having Luis deftly shave off the grubby beard that had grown over the past several days. The beard gone, Rafael scrubbed his entire body hard with the long-handled bristle brush that Luis passed to him, and, after washing the dark, unruly hair he rose in naked splendor from the water. A thick white towel was presented instantly by the hovering Luis and, drying himself swiftly, Rafael said, "Wake me at one, if you will, Luis. In the meantime, let Don Miguel know that I am here and that I don't want to be disturbed until then." He paused and then said slowly, "Ask the cook to pack enough food for two men for an overnight trip, and see that two horses are saddled and ready when I awake."
His face full of dismay, Luis asked, "You are leaving again? So soon? You have just arrived, senor!"
"Just overnight, Luis. There is something I have to take care of, and it won't wait. Now, off with you! Oh, and Luis, keep my request a secret from the family, will you?"
Puzzled, the little man shrugged. "Sii senor, if you wish."
Rafael smiled. "I do. Two last things, though, that I would like done—deliver the note I am about to write to Sebastian as soon as possible. The message for my father I want delayed until the evening."
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The notes were quickly written and dispatched, and not more than five minutes later Rafael was sprawled beneath the covers of his bed. Somehow he had to mend the breach between him and Sebastian, and suggesting that they ride out this afternoon and view the unclaimed land that adjoined the rancho's eastern boundary had been the only thing that he could think of to allow the two of them some privacy and time to begin healing the rift. It was flimsy and weak, he admitted to himself, but it seemed the only course open to him. Certainly it would be impossible to do anything at the hacienda, not with Sebastian acting frigid and polite in front of the others, but if they were away and on their own... Now, if only his rightfully affronted, hot-tempered cousin didn't simply rip the note in shreds and toss it in his face.
Beth Ridgeway he ruthlessly shoved to the back of his mind. First, Sebastian, then English
Sebastian didn't rip Rafael's note to shreds, although that was his first reaction. But, staring at the thick black strokes on the heavy paper, he hesitated and finally decided to accept the invitation. He had held his older cousin in too high a regard to be able to put their affection for each other aside without a struggle. His heart did ache, though, as much from the estrangement with Rafael as the knowledge that his love for Beth was fruitless, but he, like Rafael, did not want the breach between them to be impassable. And so, even if he did not have quite the enthusiasm or spirit for a short sojourn with Rafael that he might have had only hours before, he was willing to accept his cousin's offering of the olive branch.
Of Beth Ridgeway and her connection with Rafael, he found himself curiously numb after the first ugly shock had worn off. Numb and just a little disillusioned with Beth, and yet deep in his heart he fought against that disillusionment, feeling vehemently that there was something about Rafael's tale that didn't quite ring true. Something that, if he could just put his finger on it, would give him the answer—and he was positive it wouldn't be the answer Rafael had given him. For one long moment he considered doing just what Rafael had
suggested—asking Beth for her version of what had happened. But, while Sebastian was a brash young man, he couldn't quite bring himself to demand an explanation from her. Because he feared her answer? Even he wasn't certain why.
Tiredly he banished the subject from his mind. He couldn't change things, and somehow he didn't think hearing Beth's answer was going to make him feel any better.
If Beth had known that Sebastian had been a witness to that shameful meeting with Rafael, or of the half-truths Rafael had spun out for Sebastian's edification, she would have been divided between a strong desire to faint with mortification and as equally strong a desire to part Rafael's thick black hair with a bullet. As it was, she was filled with guilt and fury as she lay in her bed torturing herself by remembering how easily Rafael had overcome her protests. Writhing with angry remorse, she stared blankly around her room, almost unable to bring herself to face the day... and Nathan ... and worse, to look into the icy gray eyes of Rafael Santana.
But pride would not allow her to hide away either, and common sense told her that she would have to leave the sanctuary of her rooms eventually. Her self-pitying mood lasted almost through the china pot of steaming hot coffee that a bright-eyed, beaming Charity had served about nine o'clock that morning. But by the time Beth finished the last cup and had dressed and Charity had arranged her hair, her shattered spirit was beginning to rouse itself and to search for a way to defeat Rafael on his own ground.
A finger on her lips, her mind busy on finding a way out of her dilemma, she sat quietly in one of the chairs of her sitting room. Outright defiance of his order not to leave hadn't occurred to her yet. At the moment she was more determined to make certain that there was no repeat of last night, and the only way she could be assured of that was to have someone else with her. Sleep in Nathan's rooms? No! That would involve too many explanations, explanations she didn't dare give, if she
wanted her husband ahve and not dead on the dueling field.
Thoughtfully Beth watched through the doorway into her bedroom as Manuela, acting as Charity's assistant, helped the younger woman hang a few of Beth's gowns in a massive mahogany wardrobe. Her gaze sharpened, and when Manuela prepared to leave the room a few minutes later, Beth called to her.
Manuela's face was wary as she approached, and it became even more so when an instant later Beth requested Charity to go to the kitchen and ask for another pot of coffee. Once Charity had left them alone, Beth looked directly into Manuela's eyes and stated baldly, "Rafael returned last night. From now and until we leave, I am going to have my servant sleep here in the rooms with me. Will you see that another bed is procured?"
Instantly aware of the reasons behind Beth's actions, Manuela nodded without hesitation. 'It will be done. Occasionally guests prefer for a servant to sleep nearby. No one will wonder at it, no one need even know of it."
Beth let her breath out in a jagged sigh. 'That's the problem, and that's where I need your help—I want everyone to know that Charity is sleeping in my rooms."
"I see," Manuela said slowly. "Very well, I shall make certain that the senora's fear of sleeping in a strange house without her maid nearby is well known. I will make especially certain that Luis, Sefior Rafael's servant, knows of it."
Beth flashed her a warm, grateful smile. "Oh, Manuela! Thank you!''
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Ch
arity's presence in her bedroom at night was a frail barrier against Rafael's dark charm, but it was the only thing Beth could think of to give herself some protection. Of course she could have told her husband, but for obvious reasons she chose not to do so.
Facing Nathan when they met just before the midday meal was easier than Beth had imagined it would be. Smiling guilelessly into Nathan's pleasant features, Beth felt her heart squeeze painfully, hating herself for the role she was playing. Perhaps, she thought viciously, I am just naturally a liar, an adulterous woman of easy virtue. It was a totally unfair assessment of her character, but she was too involved with her struggle between anger, shame and guilt to think rationally. The guilt clogged her throat whenever she thought of Nathan, and shame washed over her at how easily Rafael had overcome her resistance. As for the anger, it flooded her body and made her want to lash out with helpless rage at the knowledge that she was apparently powerless to escape the dreadful coil in which she found herself. But I will find a way out of this maze, she vowed fiercely, I will!
The ordeal of meeting Rafael face to face was postponed; Don Miguel mentioned casually as they sat down to eat, that his son had arrived early that morning, but had taken Sebastian on a brief tour of some land that lay to the east of the ranch. "They should return in time for dinner tonight," he added, "but for the present, please accept my apologies for their absence."
Beth was more than willing to accept his apologies, and added silently the fervent wish that Rafael might break his arrogant neck during the tour, sparing her
Louisiana 08 - While Passion Sleeps Page 22
