Silver Surrender--Jarrett Family Sagas--Book Two

by Vivian Vaughan

  Before she could stop him, he took her hand in his. “Relie, don’t misunderstand. I didn’t mean…ah…”

  She wriggled her fingers from his grasp. “How fortunate that I lived such an outrageous youth. It furnished the town with entertainment while I was being abducted by some…by some…”

  Quite without intending to, she looked up to find Carson watching her, that wry grin tipping his lips. Quickly, she looked away, feeling a blush creep up her neck. He had heard the whole thing. Damn him, he had listened to every word of her childish babble.

  Enrique reached for her hand again. “I’m sorry, Relie. I didn’t mean to offend you. Your disguises—”

  “Disguises are for children, Enrique. Surely you know I am not a child.”

  He gaped a moment, then found his voice. “Of course. Of course, I know that, Relie. My feelings should have been clear at the mint the day…that dreadful day when you…when you disappeared.”

  Her head spun, and she knew if he babbled one more sentence in her ear she would scream. As gracefully as she could manage, she rose to her feet. “It has been a dreadfully long day, Enrique. Would you excuse me? I feel I must retire.”

  “Certainly.” He hastened to take her arm. “Time I was going, too. Have to be at the mint bright and early.”

  Her parents rose then, her mother saying how she knew the travelers were spent from their journey. Enrique had barely left when Serphino announced that the carriage for Pia and Zita was ready.

  That taken care of, Doña Bella wished everyone a good night, and she and Don Domingo ascended the marble staircase.

  Suddenly, everyone was talking at once. Aurelia watched Pia confer with Santos, then Pia and Zita hugged her good-bye. She couldn’t help noticing the dreamy look in Zita’s eyes.

  Behind her, she heard Santos and Carson.

  “Come with me to take the girls home?” Santos invited under his breath.

  “I’m not your birddog, partner,” she heard Carson reply.

  “What?”

  “Hell, man, this is your first night back. You don’t want me tagging along.”

  She heard Santos grunt, then felt Carson step around her, brushing her elbow. With his back to her, he spoke to Zita, then proceeded to usher the girl into the foyer. Aurelia watched, stunned.

  Santos followed them, disappearing down the hallway.

  Pia was saying something about tomorrow.

  “No,” Aurelia answered absently. “No, I don’t think we will leave for Guanajuato tomorrow.”

  She could see neither Carson’s nor Zita’s face, only their bobbing heads. First Carson’s, as though he were instructing her. Then Zita’s.

  Santos returned, clapping his hands, taking Pia’s arm. Behind him trailed Lucinda, who slipped unnoticed into a chair just inside the drawing room. Or she would have gone unnoticed had Aurelia not been staring so blatantly into the foyer.

  Before escorting the girls out the door, Santos bent to speak to Lucinda, then to Carson, who chuckled and turned back to the drawing room.

  The door closed behind them. Carson stood in the black marble foyer, staring at her as if he awaited an invitation to enter.

  Carson stood stock-still in the black marble foyer, staring at the vision before him. He heard the outside door close, the clatter of hooves and carriage wheels on the bricked drive. But all he saw was Aurelia.

  She looked every inch an angel with her head held high, her shoulders back, her gown regal. She stood still as death, as though waiting for him to take her in his arms and love her. Her eyes bore into his, searching, questioning.

  But the search would serve no purpose, and the questions had no answers. He considered going straight to his room. Considered it, all the while knowing he could do no such thing. As hopeless as this relationship was, he could not deny himself the simple luxury of her presence.

  It was as though he were starving and only the touch of her could feed him. As though he were thirsty and only her lips could quench that thirst…

  As hopeless as things were between them.

  The hacienda had merely amazed him. But this place, why, this place reminded him of passages his brother Benjamin used to read from the Good Book about mansions in heaven. He never even imagined such a place existed. And it wasn’t enough for her.

  She wanted to escape, called it a prison. God, what was Guanajuato like? The cities of gold that explorer had searched for so long ago? Had the Mazóns found the Seven Cities of Cibolo? And were they her kingdom?

  Here he had thought his only worry in coming to Mexico would be making it through Santos’s wedding ceremony. How he had dreaded it, knowing he was never comfortable in fancy places. Now he knew the weeks leading up to that wedding ceremony stood to be the most miserable time of his life.

  He watched Aurelia step to the sideboard, watched her pour brandy into two fresh glasses. She carried them across the room while he still watched her. She was beautiful tonight. Stunning.

  But he recalled how she had looked on the trail when he thought her no more than a peasant girl. She had been beautiful then, too. Beautiful to look at, to touch, to love.

  She seated herself in one side of a contraption he had heard about but never before seen. It resembled two chairs connected at the arms on one side, with each turned away from the other, one chair facing one way, the other backwards. A courting couch, folks called it, designed to keep passions in check. When his already raced out of control just looking at her.

  Without a word, she lifted one of the glasses to her lips and extended the other to him.

  He glanced briefly at the chaperon sitting as though oblivious to their presence. Looking back, he watched a grin spread across Aurelia’s face.

  In three steps he crossed the room and took the offered glass, his fingers closing around hers. The sensation rocked him, as he had known it would.

  Seated with his back to the chaperon, he stared into Aurelia’s eyes and she into his. He took a sip of the fiery liquid. It felt cold compared to the heat rising in his body.

  She touched her glass to his, tilting her chin in that provocative way she had. “Much needed color?”

  He clinked his glass against hers. “Fighting for your life?”

  Her eyes held steady, still questioning, almost demanding now. God, how he wanted to respond.

  He tipped his head toward Lucinda. “Any chance she will fall asleep?”

  Aurelia laughed softly. “Not the slightest.” Her black eyes danced. “If I could think of something for her to pray for, she might turn her attention to heaven.”

  Carson studied her. A deep sadness, like a loss, welled inside him. “I can think of something to pray for.” Glancing quickly away, he took a large swallow of brandy.

  “What were you and Zita discussing so seriously in the foyer?” she asked.

  He looked back in time to see her lips tremble against the rim of her glass. “My plans,” he replied.

  “Your plans for what?”

  He shrugged. “For the future, what else?”

  “That was quick. I could tell she was enamored, but—”

  “She’s a pretty girl. She will make some lucky man a fine catch.”

  He watched her stare into the depths of her brandy snifter, swirl the liquid, silent.

  “And you are a beautiful woman, Aurelia.”

  Slowly, she looked up from her glass, her bow-shaped lips slightly parted, beckoning.

  “You will make some lucky man a fine catch, too.”

  He watched his words settle in, watched the questions form.

  “But not me, angel.”

  “Why not?” she whispered.

  He held her troubled gaze, silent.

  “What reason did you give Zita?” she asked.

  “The reasons are a great deal different for the two of you. Worlds apart.” As we are, he thought. Even though Zita’s blood was likely as rich as Aurelia’s, it did not stir his. Would never stir his. He doubted if any woman’s blood would ever s
tir his in such a manner again.

  “That doesn’t answer my question,” she persisted.

  “I told her my plans were already made.”

  She smiled. “What about me? You said?…” She tilted her chin again, waiting for his answer.

  He held her gaze. Did she think he had forgotten? Did she think he could ever forget? She was his. A part of her would always belong to him.

  “That was before—” he scanned the opulent room, “before all this.”

  “What does this have to do with it? I hate this place. It’s a prison.”

  Growing up, he had heard this girl or that referred to as having been spoiled. He figured the term meant they were selfish, thoughtless, indulged.

  Aurelia was none of those things. She was kind and compassionate and loving. But she was spoiled. All this, and she still wasn’t satisfied. He could never provide her with even this grand a life-style. If she wasn’t satisfied now—here—how could she ever be satisfied with the meager life he could provide? How could he ask her to be?

  “Compared to where I grew up, this is heaven.” He laughed, striving to lighten the somber mood that had enveloped him since he caught sight of this family’s lifestyle. “Angel.”

  “You can call me Relie,” she snapped. “Everyone else does.”

  In spite of the chaperon, he reached for her hand. It was cold. But so was his own.

  “When are you going to learn? I’m not everyone else.”

  “Oh.” Her fingers trembled inside his grasp. “You make no sense. First you say you love me. Then you say you don’t. Why don’t you make up your mind?”

  Releasing her hand, he held his glass in both palms and stared into its empty depths. “You are the one confused,” he said. “But you’ll straighten things out in your mind, once you get these crazy notions out of your head. Right now I don’t think you know what you want. At least, not what you want from life in the long haul. But that’s okay. You have time.”

  “I am not a child, Carson.”

  He looked at her again, wanting to kiss her more than ever. “I never said you were.”

  “Well, you did say you were falling in love with me.”

  He sighed. “Love and common sense are not always the same thing, angel.”

  Santos fidgeted on the seat beside Pia. These carriages never afforded enough legroom, he thought, especially not when the opposite seat was taken by a dueña cloaked in black, but definitely not blinded or deafened by the fact.

  “You’ve been distracted all night, Santos,” Pia told him. “Is it the mine?”

  “No, the difficulties at the mine will work out now that Jarrett’s here.”

  “I’m glad he came early. Why, to think…” She glanced at Tía Victoria, her mother’s aunt who served as her dueña, then continued. “Think what a handsome best man he will be.”

  Santos grunted.

  They had delivered Zita and now pulled up to the Leal mansion.

  “You are worried about something,” she challenged. “You don’t even seem glad Carson arrived.”

  “I’m glad. I may end up sorry I asked him to come early, though.”

  “Why? You two are great friends.”

  “That’s the trouble.”

  “You aren’t making sense.”

  He sighed heavily. “Didn’t you see the way they reacted to each other?”

  “Who? Zita and Carson?”

  “No, Pia. My…ah…your other friend,” he finished, recalling in time that Aurelia’s presence in Catorce was supposed to remain a secret from all but a select few.

  Pia didn’t answer until the carriage had rocked to a stop and Tía Victoria alighted.

  “Relie?” she whispered as Santos handed her down.

  He nodded. “Didn’t you see the two of them?”

  Pia shook her head.

  “She didn’t tell you?”

  “Tell me what?”

  “About the days—and nights—they spent alone together before they reached the ranch.”

  Pia’s hand flew to her breast. “No,” she whispered. “I mean, yes, but she didn’t…I mean, she didn’t tell me anything…”

  Tía Victoria turned to frown at the straggling couple.

  They started for the house, keeping several paces between them and the dueña. “What happened between them, Santos?”

  “They say nothing.”

  “Then why are you worried?”

  “He’s falling in love with her. He told me so.”

  “Santos, how wonderful.”

  “Wonderful? Disastrous is more like it.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course it’s wonderful. Just what she needed. A way to escape Catorce.”

  “It would never work.”

  “Now, Santos, don’t make decisions for other people.”

  “They are not other people. She’s my sister and he’s my best friend. For a while, anyway. Until she breaks his heart.”

  “She won’t.”

  “How do you know? They are different, I tell you, Pia. Different.”

  “So are we.”

  He stopped at the steps, conscious of the dark figure watching them from the shadow of the portal. “We are different in a…in a different way.”

  “You aren’t making sense, you know that? Besides, we’ve spent the whole evening talking about other people.” She faced him with her back to the dueña. Now she looked up, speaking in a whisper. “The last time we were together, you promised me something.”

  He stared at her, comprehension gradually dawning. “That’s what I’m talking about, Pia. It was Relie who put you up to such a thing. If she can advise a friend to…to do something like that, what do you think she would do herself, given all those days and nights alone?”

  “Santos Mazón! How dare you talk that way about your sister!”

  He sighed, exasperated.

  “Relie is a perfectly sensible girl,” Pia chided, “no matter what kind of schemes she cooks up. She is modest and moral. And I will not have you say otherwise.”

  “I suppose you’re right.”

  “They can work out their own problems. It’s us you should be thinking about. Our wedding is little more than a month off, and you didn’t even find a way to steal a kiss tonight.”

  He shook his head, suddenly sorry he had neglected her. “I admit I’ve been worried about how to handle Relie, but that will change as soon as I get her to Guanajuato, where she can’t work her way any further under Jarrett’s ornery hide.”

  Chapter Ten

  Aurelia awoke the following morning, her mind wrestling with the new problem Carson had posed the evening before: his rejection. She snuggled into the comforter, wishing it was the hard rock floor of the cave behind the waterfall.

  Carson loved her. She was sure of that. She hadn’t been quite so certain during dinner from the way he carried on with Zita, but later after everyone left, he practically admitted he loved her.

  So how could she persuade him to admit it to himself? For one thing, she would have to get him alone, and with Santos dogging their every step, that in itself would be a challenge. She had hoped to see him after everyone else retired, but when Santos returned from seeing Pia home, he immediately shooed her off to bed, saying he and Carson had plans to lay.

  She sighed, knowing without having to be told the plans they had made for her: the entire day inside this house. She wished she knew how soon they would leave for Guanajuato. Once there, Carson would realize how much he loved her. She knew he would, only…

  A noise sounded in the hallway outside her door, so natural in its occurrence she hardly noticed. Then she bolted from the bed. One of the maids had left a tray with orange juice, coffee, and pan dulces beside her door; she would leave a similar tray outside the door of every occupied bedchamber in the house. Aurelia crossed the room, opened the door, and picked up her tray.

  She knew how she would do it. She knew exactly how she would see Carson alone.

  Hurrying back ins
ide, she rummaged through her wardrobe, finally pulling out the perfect disguise.

  Not five minutes later, she tiptoed down the hall, checked right and left, then picked up the tray beside his door and knocked softly.

  At his response, she answered, “Coffee, señor.”

  Hurry, she whispered, listening to sounds of stirring inside the room, tensed against the anticipated approach of someone from either end of the hallway.

  The key turned in the lock; a face peeked around the door, followed by a bare arm. Head bowed, she handed him the tray, then before he could close the door, she slid inside. Behind her, she felt for the key and turned it in the lock.

  Her heart was pounding. When she looked up, he was studying her with that wry grin on his lips.

  She watched him slip the tray onto a bureau top, after which he reached over and tugged the white maid’s cap from her head.

  “Disguises are for children, Enrique,” he mimicked, taking in her black skirt, white apron and blouse.

  “Disguises are for when a girl is desperate for a kiss.” The whispered plea trembled from her lips.

  Before she finished speaking, his lips were on hers. His arms came around her and she clung to him, feeling his skin bare and hot beneath her hands.

  As always, his arms brought her a sense of peace. Peace combined with a stirring of anticipation. Now that she knew where a kiss could lead, the expectation grew rapidly inside her. Her body fairly glowed with the want of him. She felt as though she had been doused with a splash of the brandy they had shared the night before.

  His heart throbbed against her in a rhythm she knew echoed her own. His lips stroked and caressed hers until she felt faint and rested her head on the door for support.

  The action dislodged his lips and he kissed her nose, then looked into her eyes. “I swore off you.”

  “No, you promised we would make love again.”

  When he didn’t immediately kiss her, she lifted her lips and kissed him. He responded quickly, stroking and caressing, delving and probing until her heart pounded as fast as it had when as a child she had raced up and down the hills of Catorce.