“We are walking, Mr. Torres.”
His fingertips brushed against hers. “Let’s walk somewhere else.”
He led her past Margot Sandoval’s booth, which had been stocked with tomes in German and English, past the delicately painted bookmarks Amparo Robles was displaying, beyond the Cecilia Villanueva’s booth with its profusion of fresh bouquets, each named after a book, and well past the rich chocolate scent that emanated from Mr. Zapata’s stand.
Stopping only when they had reached the stretch of grass and trees enclosed by houses on three sides and called Parque de los Enamorados, he clasped her to him, holding her so close she could feel the warmth of his breath against her lips.
Here, the noise of the fair was only a faint buzz in the distance, music overlaid by the hum of voices and laughter. A profusion of tree branches, laden with leaves, concealed them from the prying eyes of anyone who might remain in the houses that surrounded the park.
They had kissed half a dozen times by now, but it was still thrilling for Emilia to sit beside him on the bench and know that at any moment his lips might descend on hers—or that she herself could capture his mouth with her own as if he were already hers.
He had his arms around her waist and she was running her hands up and down his biceps, only a fraction of an inch preventing their lips from meeting. Neither of them closed the distance. Emilia was savoring the anticipation and, from the looks of it, so was Ruben.
He traced the lace on the high neck of her shirtwaist, and the slight touch against the sensitive skin there made her shiver. The curls at the back of her neck were damp with sweat, but he didn’t seem to mind. “I can’t imagine who thought it would be a good idea to make women wear these things in the tropics.”
“It was probably the same person who invented the necktie.”
“What a villain,” Ruben said. “He ought to be locked up in a dungeon along with your duke.”
A smile tugged at her lips. “I might have you locked up in a dungeon if you don’t kiss me soon.”
“Is that so?” He shifted and their lips touched, just barely. When he spoke again, she could feel the movement against her mouth. “What will you do to me if I do kiss you?”
“I might return it,” she said. “But I can’t make any promises.”
His teeth scraped against her bottom lip. “I don’t need any promises. I only need you.”
The teasing in his voice had vanished, and there was something so serious about the way he was looking at her that Emilia closed her eyes and kissed him, giving into lust to try and halt the disconcerting wave of affection spreading through her.
She kissed him, then pulled away, saying, “We should get back before someone comes looking for us.”
“Not yet.”
His hand closed around her forearm and he tugged her back into his arms. She kissed him again before he could say anything else, but he pulled away after a second, laughing softly. “As fun as this is, it’s not why I brought you here.” He led her to the bench and sat beside her, his hand still loosely curled around her arm. “There’s something you need to know before tonight.”
Emilia never heard what he had to say because that moment, Susana ran up to them, red-faced and breathless.
“He’s here— Manuel Vega is here.”
Damn, but Emilia had marvelous eyes. The same shade of dark brown as everyone else’s, but so expressive that to Ruben, they were unmistakable. Just a moment ago he’d seen longing in them, and a darkness Ruben was fairly certain was not only a reflection of his desire but an expression of her own. Now, however, they were full of alarm.
“He’s here,” Miss Cruz reported, her brows drawn up into a frown. “I saw him go into La Tacita a few moments ago. And what’s more—Cristobal Mendez was with him.”
“Do you think he’s said something to Cristobal? Worse—do you think Cristobal could have said something to Manuel?” Emilia was already standing up and turning away from him, beginning to walk away.
And Ruben… Ruben was relieved at the reprieve he’d been granted.
It was damned spineless of him. He should have told her about his involvement with Blanco y Negro from the moment she’d confessed to being Miss Del Valle—or even before, when he’d caught her at the offices of La Rosa Carmesí. She had been honest with him and he’d been nothing but a liar…and a liar who’d caused her current predicament, at that.
“He doesn’t look happy,” Miss Cruz was saying.
Ruben stood from the bench. “I imagine he’s heard the rumors that Miss Del Valle will be in attendance.”
“Should I speak to him?” Emilia asked.
“No,” Ruben said. “Best not to let him know you’re aware of what he’s going to do.”
He’d have to do the same, he realized, though that he wanted to find Manuel and pound him into the cobblestones.
“Won’t he suspect, if he’s heard Emilia plans to reveal herself?” Miss Cruz asked.
They had been walking as they walked; they were nearing the park now, close enough they almost had to shout to be heard over the noise.
“He has no reason to suspect,” Ruben said. “There’s been any number of women trying to claim authorship of The True Accounts—Blanco y Negro gets dozens of letters to that respect. As far as he knows, the Miss Del Valle who’s attending the fair could be another fraud. He’ll wait until she steps up so he can expose her for a liar and point to the real Miss Del Valle.” He gave them a wry smile. “He knows how to command attention.”
“I hope you’re right,” Emilia said, biting her lower lip, which was still faintly red from his own teeth. “Otherwise—Don Octavio! How are you feeling today? Is your lumbago any better?”
Ruben gave the elderly man a polite nod, stepping back as the girls paused to speak to him.
The crowd seemed to have grown even bigger in the time they’d been gone. There was a line at the confectioner’s booth and even the Cruzes’s was flocked with—
Ruben froze.
Luis was standing inside the booth, holding a copy of Emilia’s book, and beside him was Miss Vidal. They were standing very close together, as if they were whispering, and as Ruben watched, Luis stepped in front of her. Grasping her under the chin, he tilted her head up and inclined his own head slightly in a gesture that was unmistakably intimate.
It only took a moment and the girls, who were talking animatedly with their elderly neighbor, saw nothing of it. But Ruben saw it, and as he did, he felt a familiar twisting in his stomach.
Luis had found himself another girl.
Chapter 17
It was late afternoon and the sun was beginning to lose some of its potency. In less than half an hour the street lamps would turn on and the lanterns would be lighted, night coming with it, Emilia’s scheme for revealing the truth about Miss Del Valle.
The girls had gone to dress for the evening’s festivities and Ruben, who’d volunteered to watch their booth until they returned, stared out at the crowd and thought about what he had seen earlier.
He felt partly responsible. He’d promised himself, at the beginning of the summer, he wouldn’t let Luis do to another woman what he’d done to all the others. But he’d allowed himself to be distracted, and unfortunately it looked like Miss Cruz would pay for it.
Like Miss Perdomo. Luis had courted her two years before and after months of tortured poetry and midnight serenades, he’d convinced her to consent to an engagement.
It had only taken a week for Luis to change his mind. He’d broken off the engagement, which had already been announced, and poor Miss Perdomo had been left bewildered and heartbroken. To spare her the embarrassment, her family had bundled her off to Spain as companion to a wealthy cousin and neither Luis nor Ruben nor any of their acquaintances had heard of her since.
Ruben had seen her once before she left. She’d come to his lodgings one afternoon, ignoring all bounds of propriety, to ask him why. He hadn’t known how to answer her, or what to say to give her the
reassurance she desperately needed. Her pale, miserable face had haunted him for weeks afterward and it was almost impossible, as he stared sightlessly at the crowd milling around the Cruzes’ booth, to keep from imagining that same expression on Miss Cruz’s face.
Luis appeared at his side and Ruben suddenly remembered something his grandmother used to say, about summoning a person with one’s thoughts.
“Where’s Susana?” Luis asked.
“She went home.” The words—lies, really— flew out of his mouth before he had a chance to think them through. “Luis…Emilia told me Miss Cruz thinks you were planning to propose and she wanted to avoid…having an awkward conversation.”
“That can’t be right,” Luis said after a long pause. “I’ll go speak to her. I can’t have gotten things so wrong.”
“Don’t. I don’t think she wants to see you tonight. I—I’m sorry,” he added awkwardly.
“Look, Torres—are you sure that’s what she said?”
“Positive,” Ruben lied, looking at his friend in the eye.
Luis seemed to sag. “I really thought—I thought she—” He shook his head. “I’m going home. I need some time to think.”
Ruben watched him walk away, a tightness in his chest. When he turned back to the booth, he was surprised to see Violeta looking at him. She had been minding the WSA booth, and she had been close enough to hear what he’d said.
“How could you do that to Luis?”
“I’m only trying to help him,” he said, and he knew he sounded defensive.
“If that’s how you help your friends…” she said, her voice rich with disapproval.
“You don’t know what this is about. You don’t know what he’s done and how many girls he’s hurt. Miss Cruz is a good person—she doesn’t deserve to be toyed with.”
“He’d devoted to her, Ruben. And if you don’t see it, you’re a bigger fool than I took you for.”
Ruben turned away from her. “Maybe I am.”
But Violeta wouldn’t let him ignore her. “This is about Papa, isn’t it? You’re trying to keep Luis from doing to Miss Cruz what Papa did to Mama. I can understand why you’d want to do that. But Ruben—it isn’t your place.”
“I’m his friend. It’s my place to keep him from doing something he’ll regret. And if he hurts her, Violeta, he’ll regret it for the rest of his life.”
“You claim you want to help Luis. But all I see when I look at you is someone who thinks he knows better than everyone else. Someone who puts his own views ahead of other people’s happiness. You think you’re better than Papa because you’ve managed to stay unattached all these years? You’re just as selfish as he is,” she said, leaning over to look at him before delivering the final blow. “As a matter of fact, you’re exactly like him.”
Emilia unfastened her skirt and stepped out of it, breathing a sigh of relief as the air circulated around her legs. She glanced at the clock by the door. There was time enough to have something to eat while Susana was in the bath, if she hurried.
They hadn’t had time to eat anything after the mid-morning empanada, especially not after Luis had been forced to leave them to help out at his mother’s booth. More than half the copies of Emilia’s book of legends had sold and to her delight, a bookseller from the next town over had approached her about putting in an order. Susana’s embroideries had proven to be popular, too, and if the success of their booth was any indication of how well the fair was doing, they could expect very good things indeed.
Emilia rolled down her stockings and left them in a heap on the floor. “Did you remember to buy the beans when you went to the store yesterday? We ought to soak them now so they’ll be ready for tomorrow.”
“I did.” Susana sounded distracted. Emilia spared her a glance.
She was folding her skirt, a thoughtful look in her eyes. Draping it over the side of her bed, she picked up Emilia’s skirt and folded that one as well.
“What is it?” Emilia asked, turning so Susana could undo the buttons that ran all the way down her back.
“Luis and I talked for a while after you and Mr. Torres left…” Susana took a deep breath. “I think he means to do it tonight.”
Emilia twisted to look into her sister’s face. “Do what? Propose marriage?”
Susana nodded, her eyes shining.
“What makes you think so?”
“Oh, he asked if I was going to Mrs. Espinosa’s dinner, and if I would take a walk afterwards with him, because he had something important to ask me. He can’t have meant something else, right?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he wants to ask you if you’ll teach him to read. Adult illiteracy is widespread in this region,” Emilia said, but Susana was too excited to be teased.
Emilia could feel the wheels beginning to turn inside her head. Thoughtfully, she reached for a dressing gown and wrapped it around herself. “You should wear your ivory silk—you look like an angel in pale colors. It will be just right with my periwinkle sash and Mama’s brooch.”
Emilia opened the middle dresser drawer and began to look through its contents. “Get into the bath if you want,” she told Susana. “I’ll look over the dress to see if it needs mending anywhere.” She caught a glimpse of Susana’s expression. “Don’t worry, I won’t actually try to mend it. Just point out wherever it needs to be fixed.”
Susana laughed. “Thank you for all your help,” she told Emilia. “Not only for that, but for everything you’ve done. I really don’t know—”
“What you’d do without me?” Emilia interrupted, giving her sister a cheeky grin. “Be an old maid until you die, I expect.” There really was no danger of that, and Susana knew it. Emilia flicked her fingers at her. “Will you please get in the bath? I’ll never forgive you if you make us late for tonight’s ceremony.”
Susana pretended to grumble. “Well, I certainly won’t miss your bossiness when I’m gone.”
But Emilia would miss her. She managed a laugh and turned to lay the dress out on the bed so Susana wouldn’t notice her eyes had, quite suddenly, filled with tears.
Chapter 18
They returned to the park just as the lanterns were being lit. The light they cast reflected on the windows of the buildings surrounding the park and illuminated the palm fronds that waving overhead. The beaded bandeau on Susana’s hair caught the light and made her shimmer, like a mirage. Emilia glanced at her and gave her an encouraging smile, which Susana answered with a tremulous one.
“Let’s go find the boys,” she said.
There was only one boy to be found, for the moment. Ruben was perched on a stool inside their booth, slowly flipping through the book they’d put together.
Emilia kept her eyes on him as she and Susana approached the booth. His head was inclined, and all she could see of his eyes was a faint glitter, covered mostly by the sweep of his lashes.
“Luis isn’t here yet?” Susana asked when they reached the booth.
“I’m sure he’ll arrive soon,” Emilia said.
“Actually,” Ruben said, clearing his throat, “I don’t think he’ll come at all.”
“Oh?” Susana frowned. “I thought he said we were to meet here and walk to Mrs. Espinosa’s together later tonight.”
“That was his plan, I think. But he stopped by earlier and told me he wasn’t feeling well. He said he would go home and lie down, and you should go to the party without him.”
Susana studied him for a minute. “Luis isn’t sick, is he?”
Ruben looked at her a long moment before saying, “No. He isn’t.”
It was what he didn’t say that made Emilia cry out. Luis wouldn’t change his mind about Susana, not when they had been so happy these past few weeks. But one look at Susana’s face told her he had. Emilia’s heart squeezed with sympathy and she was reaching for Susana and scrambling to say something—anything—that would make her feel better, when the song that was playing came to a stop and Mrs. Espinosa’s voice came from the dais that had been s
et up between the columns of the Casa Consistorial.
Emilia glanced at her, then turned to look at Susana.
Susana didn’t meet her eyes. “Go,” she said. “I’ll be fine. I’ll stay here in case anyone wants to buy a book.”
Emilia gave her a dubious look but Mrs. Espinosa had already started her speech. The time had come for Emilia to carry out her plan.
There would only be a small window of opportunity. Emilia hated to leave Susana alone, but she was forced to turn away and make her way through the crowds towards the dais, Ruben at her heels. They stopped beside the stage, and even through her worry for Susana and her nerves, Emilia was very conscious of the warmth emanating from Ruben and of the fact that she now knew what his body felt like pressed against hers. She wanted to pull him close to her now, and feel that warmth and comfort spreading through her body.
The tips of their fingers touched and then Ruben was stepping away from her, to hand Mrs. Espinosa a folded piece of paper.
She read it, puzzled, then said, “It has come to my attention that we’ve a special guest tonight, a member of the country’s literary community. Mr. Torres, will you do the honors?”
Ruben walked forward, into the lights. Emilia’s heart started to beat a little faster. From the anticipation, certainly, but also from the thought that, after the next few moments, her life would never be the same again.
“Thank you, Mrs. Espinosa, for allowing this last minute addition to the program. Our guest wanted to show her appreciation to the worthy cause we’re supporting tonight. She has long been an advocate of adult literacy, and a supporter of all kinds of literature.”
Emilia’s palms were sweating. She wiped them unobtrusively on her skirts.
“She writes about love, and adventure, and human nature, and her stories captivate thousands even as they explore the question of what it means to be a woman in these modern times. There are no stories more fascinating, and exciting and brave than those that come from the pen of Miss Emilia Cruz.”
A Summer for Scandal Page 17
