Louisiana 08 - While Passion Sleeps

by Shirlee Busbee

  Rafael gave an ugly laugh. "No, amada, and I have no intention of talking to him!"

  With a painful intensity her eyes searched his face, wanting to believe him and ^et fearful that at some time in the afternoon while she had been closeted in her room Don Felipe had seen and talked with Rafael. This rendezvous could have been arranged to lull her suspicions, to make her believe that Rafael came on his own and not at the bidding of his grandfather.

  Beth wasn't aware how her thoughts betrayed her, but to Rafael, it was obvious that his grandfather had already put some poisonous idea in her mind. His eyes narrowed, and in a dangerous voice he demanded, "Don't you believe me?"

  Frightened by the violence she sensed in him, she stammered honestly, "I-I-I don't know!"

  That was all it took to ignite the smoldering fury that raged in his breast, and with a curse he crossed the short space that divided them, his hands closing cruelly around Beth's shoulders. Like a dog with a rat he shook her, the soft, fair hair tumbling down from the loose chignon she had worn. "When have I ever lied to you?" he snarled softly. "Why would I start now, now when everything I have done these past weeks has been to teach you to trust me. Has everything I've done been for nothing? Do you think so little of me that my grandfather can destroy, in one afternoon, something that has been growing between us since the night of the Costa ball?"

  The violet eyes looked on the smoky-gray ones so near her own. Beth slowly shook her head. "No, I believe you," she said in a low voice. Then, as if trying to explain, she said quickly, "Don Felipe is a ruthless man and he frightened me." Her eyes full of pleading, she

  added almost in a whisper, ''He plans to force you to marry me."

  Rafael's hold on her lessened, and in a weary voice he said, '1 had figured that much out by myself."

  Her heart freezing in her breast, she asked fearfully, "You wouldn't allow him to do it?"

  Rafael gave her a queer smile. "Would marriage to me be so very terrible?"

  A new emotion seemed to have entered the room, and his hands were lightly caressing now as they rested on her shoulders, and the ugly violence she had sensed earlier had vanished. Unaccountably shy, Beth fixed her eyes on the strong, brown throat, unable to meet his piercing gaze. "It would depend," she got out in a barely audible tone.

  Grently he pulled her closer to him and, with his lips brushing the curls at her temple, he asked thickly, "On what?"

  One hand nervously toying with the barrel button of his black chaqueta and regarding it intently, she said softly, "On why you wanted to marry me."

  It was a delectable moment, a duel of words between them, both prolonging it, yet each one, hardly able to stand the suspense, wanted the words said, wanted to know what was in the other's heart. They stood close— Beth's black gown melting into the blackness of Rafael's clothes, her fair head almost resting on his chest, his black head bent next to hers—and both of them were unbearably aware of the vital importance of this tantalizing, elusive moment.

  She felt so soft and warm in his arms that he never wanted to let her go, and, finally admitting to himself the knowledge he had denied for weeks, months, as the words burst from him he said explosively, "Oh, sweet Jesus, English, Fm "in love with you! Isn't that reason enough to marry me and put me out of my misery?"

  It wasn't the way he had meant to tell her, and he swore at his own clumsiness. But for Beth it was everything she had ever wanted to hear from him, everything and the only thing that mattered— he loved her!

  Her eyes blazing with the love she had kept hidden for so long, Beth gazed up at him and Rafael caught

  his breath at what her expression revealed. As his hands tightened around her slender shoulders, he felt an emotion far stronger, far more enduring than anything he had ever experienced. Almost hesitantly, as if he were afraid to believe what was transparently obvious, he began tentatively, ''English, do you... ?"

  Beth nodded vigorously, and impulsively she threw her arms about his neck and said softly, "Fve loved you for so long, even"—with misty eyes—''when you didn't deserve to be loved."

  She felt his body tremble, and then she was swept up in an embrace so fierce, so^hungrily demanding, so sweetly painful that the present receded and they were alone in a new, hazy dream world. Beth gave herself up gladly to his arms and lips, her own arms locked tightly about his neck, her mouth yielding tenderly, knowing this was the moment she had lived all her life for, and now at last the dream lover, the dark renegade who had haunted her dreams, was hers and she was his... as she always had been!

  But unfortunately there were pitfalls in front of them, and eventually Rafael eased his mouth away from hers to say unsteadily, "We have to talk. I don't want to, there are things I would far rather do, but my grandfather has placed us in a peculiar position." His gray eyes bleak and hard, he said harshly, "English, I will not allow him to dictate to me the where and the when and the how of my marriage. I love you and I want to marry you—and I want it done without his interference! I have waited all my life for love, and I will not have him sully the feeling between us—you understand me?

  Beth nodded, understanding very well exactly what he meant. Don Felipe's cold-blooded scheme for their marriage would destroy the joy and happiness the event should bring, and she, like Rafael, did not want his grandfather to have any say in the vows that would join them together. "What do we do?" she asked quietly.

  He frowned and absently dropped a kiss on her forehead, as his brain raced for a solution. "Would you very much mind being married very quickly and very quietly by a priest? I can see one first thing in the morning in

  San Antonio and procure a license. This time tomorrow evening we can be married." He looked at her keenly. "Will you dislike the fact that it will not be a grand affair? No lace and orange blossoms and hundreds of guests?"

  Beth sent him a tremulous smile. "I had that once, and it brought me little happiness." She reached up and gently kissed his warm mouth. "Rafael, it is not the trappings that I care for, but the man," she reassured him gravely.

  He gave a small groan and gathered her close in his arms again, his mouth seeking hers with an almost frantic urgency. In a voice deep with suppressed passion he muttered, "I, too, once had a wedding that was all glitter and pomp, and it brought me nothing but bitterness and hatred. When I marry you, I want no reminders of either of our marriages." His eyes very hard he said, "You're mine! I love you and I will not share you—not even with memories, especially not memories of another man!"

  "Shhh," Beth said against his lips. "Someday I shall tell you of Nathan. But not now, not tonight, tonight is ours, and I do not want to hear any more of what went before—we have each other and we start from here."

  A twisted smile crossed his face. "You are suddenly very wise, my dove. There is so much in our past to forget, isn't there? And yet there is so much that I cannot forget."

  Suddenly unsure and an icy coldness stealing into her heart, she asked, "What do you mean?"

  His face incredibly tender, he said softly, "The way you looked at the Costa ball—how can I ever forget that? Or the sweetness of your mouth when I kissed you that first time. Do you want me to forget that—I swear I could not—not even if I lived to be a hundred." The gray eyes darkening with remembrance, he added, "Or even the sight of your naked white body against the ruby of that quilt in the house on the ramparts— that, too, I cannot forget—it has driven me half crazy for years."

  Beth bent her head into his chest and in a low, trem-453

  bling voice said, "Perhaps some of the past we can never forget—nor, as you say, want to. But there is much of it..." She stopped and glanced up at him, wondering if in spite of his avowal of love, he still believed that she had gone willingly to Lorenzo's arms. It was instantly very important to know, and baldly she asked, "Do you believe what I told you about that day?"

  It was the one question that Rafael had dreaded she would ask, his own thoughts still unclear, but, staring down into the fragile features,
the honest violet eyes that met his so steadily, and the generous, sweetly curved mouth, he knew the ar^^wer. "Yes," he said simply. "What Consuela hoped tQ gain by it, I still cannot conceive—but I know you, and when I put aside my own jealous demons, I know that you could never have arranged to meet Lorenzo." His voice suddenly fervent and impassioned, he added, "I have to believe you—if I didn't I should go mad with the evil thoughts that would fill my mind. I would not be able to bear to have you even look at another man for fear you would take him for a lover. So I must believe you, for my own sanity as well as the truth and honesty that I see in your eyes."

  One tiny tear slid down Beth's cheek that she wasn't even aware of, so desperately intent had she been on his words. But Rafael noticed it, and in a gentle voice he teased, "What's this, tears? Is this the way you greet a passionate declaration of trust and love? Tears?"

  Beth gave a watery smile. "No, it is just that it means so much to me to know that you believe me. I have so longed for you to know the truth, and I feared that even now..."

  He shook his black head. "How could I continue to believe that and yet say I love you? Don't you know it was your sweetness and warmth that first drew me to you? If I hadn't been out of my head with jealousy, I would never have fallen so easily into Consuela's trap. Forget it, English, and just remember that in spite of believing evil of you, I carried the picture of you in my heart until I saw you again at Cielo. Then I'm afraid I fell hopelessly and helplessly in love with you all over again." He flashed her a crooked smile. "I've fought against it ever since I saw you standing by that blasted

  fountain—why do you think I've begun work on Enchantress?" At Beth's look of surprise he gave her a gentle shake. "Yes. As a matter of fact I came back from Enchantress, a proposal hovering on my lips, and what must you do but walk in with Lorenzo?"

  "But I didn't want him there!" Beth protested earnestly. "I hated it when he was around, but I could do nothing about it."

  Rafael's mouth thinned. "Don't worry about Lorenzo—one of the first things I may do as your husband is kill him!"

  In a small voice Beth said, "If you don't mind, I would really rather you didn't. We have just found each other— I wouldn't want to lose you too soon. Lorenzo is treacherous, and while I'm certain you could kill him in a fair fight, I very much fear he would not know the meaning of fair."

  "Are you so very sure that I do?"

  "Probably not!" Beth answered with unflattering promptness. "But I don't think I would like his corpse for a wedding present!"

  He laughed under his breath and kissed her soundly. "Enough of this! Sebastian is waiting at the stables for me, and you and I still have things to plan. But first— no more shadows? No unholy secrets you would like to confess while I am in such an amiable mood?"

  Rafael said it in a teasing manner, but for Beth it was the opening she had longed for. Toying again with one of his buttons on the black chaqueta, she murmured, "There is just one thing."

  "Oh?" he asked, an eyebrow rising quizzically, thinking that she had some minor transgression to confess.

  All in a rush and giving herself no chance to have second thoughts, she blurted, 'Tm going to have our babyr

  Thunderstruck, Rafael stared down at her, and incredulously he regarded her slightly apprehensive face. Then to her surprise, he laughed, a low, delighted laugh that melted her fears. "Truly?" he asked, an incredibly tender light blazing in the smoky-gray eyes.

  Beth nodded, her lips curved with burgeoning happiness. "Truly," she echoed, and wondered why she had

  feared to tell him. Perchance love does work miracles, she thought hazily, for certainly this tall man with the gentle hands and tender eyes bore little resemblance to the cold, icy stranger who had met her that first night at Cielo.

  For Rafael this night was more miraculous than Beth could ever begin to guess. Raised with the savage Co-manches, then nearly beaten into submission by his cold-blooded calculating grandfather, married to a woman who hated and despised him—he had been denied love and gentleness all his life. And now, now he was like a bewildered man who had suddenly stumbled in from a cold and barren life into a place of warmth and light. The gentleness and love had always been there within him, perhaps even laughter and gaiety, but it had been fiercely hidden away. But now, now with his golden English in his arms, her eyes shining with love for him, he could feel the last vestiges of his icy, protective shell melting in the warmth of her love. Gently he pulled her closer to him, his mouth sliding softly across her cheek and lips. His lips found hers and clung as he kissed her warmly, sweetly—no passion, no desire, just love and tenderness in his caress.

  Moving his lips to her ear, he whispered with a hint of laughter in his voice, "It is, perhaps, a good thing that we marry tomorrow night—I would want our child to have some semblance of respectability." His hand rested on her stomach and there was both protective-ness and possession in his touch. But he frowned and asked with an odd urgency, "The night at Cielo or before I left for Enchantress?" When Beth hesitated, he said in surprise, "Surely not the night of the harlot's gown?"

  Beth blushed at the memory of that night and said quickly, "Before you left for Enchantress."

  He sighed. "I'm glad. The night at Cielo I wanted to hurt you, and I would not like to think that our child would be born from that time." A glitter in the gray eyes, he added, "Ah, but the night before Enchantress.. ."

  It was a delightful time for both of them, but all too soon Rafael had to tear himself away from her and make plans for the immediate future. Putting her from

  him, he muttered, "I have to go. Sebastian is waiting and there are things I must do. And in order to keep my grandfather from trying to abduct you again and making us dance to his tune, I must leave you here tonight and tomorrov^—can you face it?"

  She touched his face lightly with one hand, her own face glowing with an inner happiness. '1 can manage—provided you do not leave me too long with Don Felipe. I fear my joy will be hard to hide from him, but for one day I think I can conceal it." Her eyes suddenly brimming with amusement, she teased, "But one day only. Longer and I shall reveal that you have compromised me dreadfully."

  A fleeting grin lit his dark face. "Threats already? I can see that I shall have to be a stern husband." Then the grin vanished and he said seriously, "Plead an illness tomorrow night and retire early. Just as soon as it is dark Til come for you. Be ready." Wryly he finished, "Hopefully no one will check on you until the morning, and by then it will be too late for my grandfather to do anything but offer us congratulations... before we leave for Enchantress. I want our child born there."

  To Beth it sounded like heaven. The thought that this time tomorrow night she would be his wife was something she could cling to throughout the long night and day that stretched before her. Their parting a few minutes later was bittersweet, and it was all Rafael could do to force himself not to take her with him. But knowing Don Felipe would be after her immediately upon discovering her disappearance and knowing there wouldn't have been enough time to arrange a hasty marriage, reluctantly he put her from him and disappeared out her window.

  Sebastian was impatiently waiting for him at the stables. "What took so long?" he demanded in an angry undertone. "I'm going to have a hell of a lot of explaining to do if one of the guards finds me loitering about at this time of night, especially since I told your not-so-believing grandfather that I was exhausted and needed my sleep. I don't think he believed one word of what I've said all evening, and I didn't like the way he watched Beth when she left. You did see her?"

  Rafael nodded and, still bemused by the knowledge that Beth loved him and that there was to be a child, he said softly, "Wish me well, Sebastian, for English and I marry tomorrow night."

  For just a moment, Sebastian was assailed with a pang of envy. But then, happy for his cousin, he said gruffly, "I do indeed wish you well! And Beth too! But tell me, how does this come about —particularly as Fm quite certain Don Felipe has no quick wedding in min
d."

  Rafael's face tightened and succinctly he explained what had been decided. "Will you come with us? I would like you there."

  Rafael's invitation was sincere and he had no thought of causing Sebastian pain, almost having forgotten Sebastian's involvement with Beth. Surprising even himself, Sebastian agreed, discovering he was not so heartbroken at the idea of this marriage as he would have thought. Possibly I am becoming a cynic, he thought dryly.

  They shook hands and Sebastian said truthfully, "I'm glad for both of you, and at least this time Beth will have a man for her husband—of that I have little doubt."

  Curious, Rafael glanced at him and asked, "Meaning?"

  Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "She didn't tell you?" And at Rafael's negative gesture, he told of seeing Nathan in Mr. Percy's bed.

  Rafael said something vicious under his breath, and Sebastian thought it was a good thing that Nathan had already passed from this earth.

  After they parted, Rafael wasted little time in useless speculation about what Sebastian had told him— in time Beth would tell him all he needed to know about Nathan. The warmth and happiness that she had instilled in him was still there, flooding his body with joy, and as San Antonio drew nearer, his thoughts were on his love and the wonderful life that lay before them.

  Lorenzo was also about this night, only within him there was no love or thought of life, merely hatred and death. The day that had started out so brightly had faded dismally, and when he rode to his meeting with the Comanche raiders he was brooding on the cruel

  words Don Felipe had flung at him not more than an hour before.

  Despite Lorenzo's fawning and servile manner, Don Felipe had never treated him with anything but polite contempt. Yesterday when he had received Don Felipe's message, Lorenzo had been elated; it seemed that his calculated attempts to gain favor with Don Felipe had finally borne fruit. Hadn't he been included in the private session between the father and son when it had been decided that Beth should be brought to the family house? And hadn't Don Felipe chosen him to carry out his commands? Hadn't he been the favored one to be taken aside after Don Miguel had left the room? Had he not been told exactly what the old man wanted if the senora proved intractable?