The Horseman

by Margaret Way

  “Dear Lord!” She gave a soft moan, lamenting how much of herself she had delivered up.

  “Look at me.” His tone was quiet but commanding.

  “No way!” She had to lean against a tree for support even though the rough bark caught at the fine fabric of her dress.

  “Please look at me.” He moved nearer. “You are the loveliest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  “Raul, go. Just go.”

  “You feel guilty?”

  “Of course I feel guilty,” she said angrily. “I’m engaged to be married. I’m kissing you. What sort of a person does that make me?”

  His laugh was faintly discordant. “Maybe you’re just setting yourself free? Maybe you’ve wanted to be free all along?”

  “And maybe for your own reasons you would like to seduce me?” She threw out the challenge. Certainly it had happened to her before. “I actually knew someone who proposed to do that just to settle a bet. It isn’t unusual for a certain kind of man to have that idea.”

  “Of course this certain man didn’t succeed?”

  She spoke. in a contemptuous tone. “In the end he wished he’d never thought of it. He or his friend.”

  “So where are we now? Only a fool would mess with the Morelands. Is that it?”

  “I wouldn’t care to mess with you,” she retorted. “Was that kiss a blatant example of what I might expect if I were fool enough to join you on Malagari?”

  “I know you want to,” he said with stunning self-confidence. “It should happen. It will happen, Cecile. You’re the beautiful princess locked away in the ivory tower. It’s time for you to break out.” His hand rose to lift her chin, then slowly, voluptuously, he pressed another kiss onto her warm pulsing mouth. “Must you marry this fiancé of yours? He seems to me to be what they call a stuffed shirt. He isn’t your soul mate.”

  “And you are?” Her voice betrayed high emotion, but she’d gone beyond caring.

  “I can make you tremble,” he pointed out gently. “I can make you open your mouth to me.”

  “The next step my thighs? I think not,” she said sharply, a blue vein beating in her temple. “I must go back to the house,” she. said, albeit much too late. “If you’re looking for a holiday affair—”

  He caught her Wrist, his sensuous voice abruptly harsh. “Don’t talk such nonsense. I am as much compromised by whatever it is that exists between us as you are.”

  “Nothing exists between us,” she declared with no truth whatsoever. “I’m to be married very soon to the man I love.”

  He gave a short laugh. “Forgive. me, but isn’t this a bad time to drag that up? It’s humiliating, I know, to lose control, especially for someone who represses emotion. Both of us appear to have been blindsided. Fate Works in strange ways, Cecile.”

  She shook her head, feeling like she wanted to cry. What had happened to her self-control? It was sliding away from her. “I must go back.” She started to move toward the path and the beam of light. Her high heels were sinking into the grass, and again he took her arm.

  “Ah yes, Mamma will be waiting,” he said in a sardonic voice. “I picture her now, on the central balcony, a pair of binoculars in hand. She’s an impressive woman, your mother, but very controlling. You must try to get past that, Cecile.”

  She surprised herself by a confession. “Sometimes I think I never will. I’m caught, you see, by love and…compassion.”

  “Useful tools when one needs to apply emotional blackmail,” he said. “How did your engagement happen?”

  She gave an angry little laugh. “Maybe I was bored. Maybe I felt pressured into it. Maybe I felt my youth ticking by. I want children.” She shrugged a little. “Surely you have no right to question me. Let’s say, I fell in love. Stuart loves me.”

  “That part I believe,” he said, sounding grim.

  “Do you always talk this way to strangers?” She was angry that she felt incompetent to deal with him. “I have to tell you, student of psychology that you are, you know nothing about my mother, my family, my fiancé, nothing about me, except I play the piano rather well—”

  “And you forget everything and everyone in my arms.” He turned her toward him.

  “You don’t need to remind me.” She drew away as if he were the devil himself. “I think I should make a vow right now never to go back into your arms again.”

  “Will the moon never come out again at night?” He gave a brief, sardonic laugh.

  She had trouble even thinking of an answer. Instead, panic rose in her like a flock of startled birds. “Raul, you must stay away from me.”

  He touched her cheek “That, too, seems to be out of our control. Your grandfather appears bent on throwing us together.”

  “He’s simply being kind.” Even as she said it she was tormented by the notion he was right.

  “Perhaps he doesn’t think your fiancé worthy of you, either?” Raul suggested. “You deserve better. Already I know a side of you he will never see. I’m sure he tells you your playing is very nice?”

  “Well, he would, as he’s tone deaf. You should never have kissed me, Raul,” she told him bleakly.

  “You should never have kissed me back.” His answer was calm.

  “I’m ashamed.”

  “I’m quite certain I’m not,” he clipped off. “He wants to own you, Cecile.”

  There was too much truth in what he said, however unpalatable, for her to deny it.

  “It can’t be a fate your grandfather would want for you. You are your own woman.”

  “Yes I am, though I won’t be if we continue like this.” She turned her face sharply toward the house. “I can deal with my problems by myself, you know.”

  He shrugged. “Forgive me if I thought you could use some help. It seems to me from what your grandfather has told me, much has been expected of you.”

  “Hasn’t much been expected of you?” she countered. “Who are you, anyway?” She couldn’t conceal her unease.

  “Perhaps someone you need?” While she sounded angry, he sounded calm, almost fatalistic.

  Her eyes, more accustomed to the low level of lighting, registered the expression on his face. “You don’t appear to me as a friend! I confess a concern you might have some private agenda.”

  “But of course I have!” He made a little foreign gesture with his hands. “I can promise you that.”

  “I don’t care for the sound of that.”

  “But you don’t want to stop seeing me.”

  She had no idea how to cope with him. None! Not when he had come at her like some blazing meteor from out of space. How could a mere mortal reach her in unreachable places? It didn’t seem possible otherwise. She turned on her heel, throwing her words over her shoulder. “Don’t draw me into your plans, Raul Montalvan, whatever they are. I’ll say good-night.”

  He raised a mocking hand. “Buenas noches, Cecile. Until we meet again!”

  CHAPTER SIX

  SHE WAS UNDRESSED, ready to climb into bed, when her mother tapped on her door.

  “May I come in for a moment, Cecile?” Justine, in one of her collection of luxurious satin nightgowns and matching robes, swept in before Cecile got a chance to say yea or nay.

  “It must be important if it can’t wait.” Cecile, long used to these late-night encounters with her mother, slumped onto the bed, her head already pounding and in a whirl. “It’s well after one.”

  Justine spun around, a handsome, dominant woman whose frequent aggressive actions masked deep insecurities. “Be that as it may, I have something very serious to say to you, Cecile. I don’t believe it can wait. I’ll be off in the morning, as you know. Your father and I have a big function to attend Friday evening.”

  “Fire away then,” Cecile answered, unable to keep the weariness out of her voice.

  Justine pursed her mouth at her daughter’s response. “Don’t—I beg of you—don’t when you’ve finally got your life together, allow anything to threaten it.”

  Realisti
cally speaking, wasn’t it a possibility? “Words to live by, Mother,” Cecile said. “Anything in particular bring this on?”

  Justine moved to one side and took a seat in a brocade-covered armchair. “Don’t take that tone with me, Cecile. Your manners have slipped. You used to be very respectful. I’d like you to remain that way. It’s the least you can do when I’ve devoted my life to you. You’ve been reared in the lap of luxury with every advantage. You’ve had much love, not to say adulation. I certainly never had that. My mother scarcely acknowledged my existence. We, however, have been very close. I’m very. proud of that. You’ve always heeded my advice and acted on it. Maybe I didn’t want you to pursue your career, which must be very ugly and distressing, but I didn’t put up any real objection.”

  Cecile stifled a snort. “How can you say that, Mother, given your numerous objections? It was Dad and Granddad who supported my desire to become a child psychologist. You might challenge Dad and you did, but you’ve never challenged Granddad.”

  Justine’s outraged expression showed she didn’t like that fact pointed out. “I adore Daddy. You know I do.” At fifty Justine didn’t find it at all incongruous she should continue to call her father “Daddy.”

  “But you’ve never forgiven him, either,” Cecile pointed out quietly. What made her say that, however true? How many times in one day could she shock herself, Cecile thought.

  “Cecile, what are you saying?” Justine sat straight, holding her shoulders rigidly.

  “Something I’ve known for a very long time. I’m not trying to upset you, Mother, but I think I should tell you, you upset me a lot of the time. You ‘re too ready to interfere in my life, always advising, exhorting. There’s always something, if not wrong, not quite right with what I’m doing, no matter what it is. Sometimes I think I’m not the daughter you wanted at all, though God knows I’ve tried to be. I saw your face tonight when I announced I was going to play the ‘Malaga.’ Anyone would have thought I was about to disgrace you.”

  “Nonsense!” Justine rejected that firmly. “I merely thought you wouldn’t do yourself justice. I’m sure you haven’t practiced that piece in ages and it’s technically very demanding.”

  “But I did play it well?”

  For the first time Justine’s taut expression relaxed. “You were wonderful, Cecile. I’ve always been very proud of you. Haven’t I told you often enough?”

  “Forgive me, Mother, you have. What are we talking about here, anyway?”

  Justine pursed her lips again. “I understood you to say I’ve never forgiven Daddy. Whatever prompted that?”

  “The truth, Mother,” Cecile sighed. “You grew up believing Granddad didn’t do enough for you.” She held up her hand as her mother went to interrupt. “I scarcely mean in the material sense. You didn’t think Granddad supported you enough against Nan. He gave you love, support, comfort, solace when you didn’t get those things from your mother, but—”

  “Believe me, I didn’t!” Justine said harshly, stony-faced.

  “Grandma cared more about Granddad and Uncle Jared than she cared about you?” Cecile asked gently.

  “Some women are like that,” Justine said bitterly. “Husbands and sons are the only ones who matter. Daddy was away so much of the time. It was always business, business, business. I had no one but servants to look out for me. In many ways I was a lost child. I know my mother loved you, extraordinarily enough, but she skipped a generation. She never bonded with me. Ask anyone. Ask wicked old Bea. There’s another one who loves you and not me.”

  “You won’t let yourself be loved, Mother,” Cecile said. “I think it must have taken Granddad—a very busy man as you say—a long time before he realized what was going on with you and Nan, the lack of warmth and affection. But it wasn’t Granddad’s fault any more than what happened to Daniel and his poor little mother. It was necessary for Granddad to be away on his many business trips. We’ve all benefited from his great success. His family and any number of friends and charities. It seems incredible to me now that Nan was so cruel to Daniel’s mother.”

  “Ah, Johanna! She was just the maid, a no one!” Justine sighed. “Let me tell you your grandmother did have a cruel streak. No way was Johanna, however pretty, going to be allowed to get her hooks into Mother’s beloved Jared. My mother solved the problem by driving Daniel’s mother away. Now Daniel’s back.”

  “You don’t want him back, though, do you, Mother?” Cecile brought it out into the open.

  Justine’s fine, regular features sharpened. “How dare you say such a thing!”

  “Aw, Mother, admit it. You think you know me. I know you. I already love Daniel. You’ve tried very hard to do the right thing. You’ve acted perfectly, but it is acting. You’re Daniel’s aunt, his own flesh and blood, but you have no feeling for him. Is it because you fear Granddad’s love for Daniel will lessen his love for you? It won’t. You should feel secure in Granddad’s love.”

  Justine sighed deeply. “Well, I never have. I know Daddy loves me, but he would have gotten over my death a whole lot sooner than he’s survived Jared’s. You can’t know what it’s like, Cecile, to forever walk in someone else’s shadow. When Jared died I wanted to be dead myself. I know my mother would have sacrificed me in an instant to save Jared. She knew, I’m convinced of it, that Daniel’s mother was pregnant when she sent her away. That meant she sent away her own grandchild; but she didn’t care. She had Jared. Thank God Daniel is more like Daddy than Jared ever was. Otherwise I couldn’t abide the sight of him. You’re right, I can’t take to poor Daniel, I’m sorry.”

  “You will in time, Mother. Give yourself a chance. You know the source of your bitterness and resentment. Daniel had no part to play in that. Daniel was an innocent victim. He’s good,—like Granddad is good. You’ll come to see that.”

  Justine looked unconvinced. “Cecile, I’m hoping I’ll have little to do with him, though I do like Alexandra. She’s a lovely girl. It’s you I’m worried about. I want to prevent something bad happening here. You’re attracted to this Raul Montalvan, aren’t you?”

  “Definitely.” Cecile saw no point in not admitting it. She had given herself away. “Tara found him extremely attractive, too.”

  “Then leave him to Tara,” Justine said in a clipped voice. “Let Tara entertain him. She’ll love that. I can see his very obvious attractions, but I don’t trust him. Daddy is so generous with his time and money I’m sure he’ll be wanting to entertain this young man while he’s here. My advice to you, and it’s good advice, stay clear. of him. He’s most definitely trouble. I know Stuart was very concerned.”

  Cecile flared up. “You don’t mean to tell me Stuart discussed the subject with you.”

  “He didn’t have to,” Justine answered irritably. “Stuart and I are on the same wavelength. Besides it was appallingly obvious our visitor was attracted to you. I don’t have to remind you being a Moreland gives you added brilliance. He could be on the lookout for a rich wife for all we know.”

  “So you think he’s a fortune hunter?” Cecile’s hackles were well and truly up.

  Justine smiled bitterly. “I was an heiress myself, Cecile.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means that made a difference to your father,” Justine said dryly, shocking her daughter. “I know you think I blind myself to the truth. Most of the time I do, but I have my moments when the shutters come down. Your father and I have a good stable marriage. Each of us got what we wanted. He will never leave me. I’m absolutely certain of that. If he ever tried it, I’d ruin him.”

  “Oh, Mother!” Cecile sighed deeply, thinking Justine had more of her own mother, Frances, in her than she ever imagined.

  Justine stood up, putting a hand to her thick, deeply waving hair, oneiof her best assets. “Promise me you won’t see any more of this Raul Montalvan, Cecile. I can’t trust Daddy not to throw you both together. I don’t think he truly appreciates what a good husband Stuart will be for y
ou. You have a lot going on inside you, Cecile, that needs curbing. Don’t think I’m not aware of it. You seem to be searching for some new way of defining yourself when you’re on the threshold of marriage, your life settled. Your job is to be a good wife to Stuart and raise beautiful children.”

  “You don’t think my future development is important, Mother?”

  “Of course it is,” Justine said irritably. “You have the-rest of your life for self-development. Look at me. I’ve been a great asset to your father as you will be to Stuart with some help from me. I love you, Cecile. You’ve always made me proud. Don’t let me down now, I beg of you. Raul Montalvan, no matter how fascinating, is nothing but trouble. Such men always are.”

  CECILE SAW HER MOTHER OFF at the airport, her mother reluctant to let go of her dire warnings until the very last minute, then drove back into the city to have coffee with Tara.

  “Tell me first—” Tara put a hand across their al fresco table to grab Cecile’s “—did he say anything about me?”

  Cecile made a play of looking back at her friend blankly. “Who?”

  “For God’s sake tell me.” Tara shook Cecile’s hand.

  “Can we order first?” Cecile asked mildly. “Terrible to say it, but with my mother gone I feel like a kid let off school. When was this anyway?”

  Tara looked at her friend with dismay. “When you were walking with him down the bloody drive,” she responded tartly. “I saw you, but I promise I won’t tell the pain in the ass.”

  The pain in the ass was Tara’s private name for Stuart. “Shouldn’t you avoid those precise words when you’re talking about my fiancé?” Cecile suggested, withdrawing her hand from Tara’s surprisingly strong grip. A petite five foot two, Tara was a featherweight due to a strict dieting regime, which veered by the week from one method to another, none of them particularly, healthy.

  “Why? He’s just so bloody pompous,” Tara responded, thinking she couldn’t bear the idea of her beautiful Cecile marrying Stuart Carlson. “Okay he’s good-looking, he’s clever, he’s the man destined to marry the beautiful Cecile Moreland and go right to the top of the tree, but he’s too much the go-getter and he’s got bugger-all sex appeal.”