Silver Surrender--Jarrett Family Sagas--Book Two

by Vivian Vaughan

  “Sí, Mamá,” Aurelia whispered, bringing her hands, twined with one of Carson’s, to her lips.

  “Now for the plan?” Santos questioned.

  “I will tell Guadalupe that we must hold off the betrothal announcement, that we simply cannot interfere with Pia’s wedding,” Doña Bella schemed. “After all, we must make a good beginning as in-laws. I will suggest we travel to Guanajuato after the wedding for the betrothal announcement.”

  “Brilliant,” Santos beamed.

  Carson smiled. By that time they would have taken care of Enrique and there would be no betrothal announcement.

  “No,” Aurelia objected. “Excusame, Mamá. Your plan is brilliant as Santos said, but we would stand a better chance of drawing them out by tomorrow if I tell Enrique tonight that I won’t marry him.”

  For a long moment the library remained quiet, while they considered Aurelia’s suggestion. Finally, Santos shook his head.

  “No, Relie. You are thinking with your heart. We must—”

  “She’s right,” Carson interrupted. “The key to this whole shebang is to make them angry enough that they make a mistake.”

  Aurelia agreed. “We learned in Guanajuato that nothing will make Tío Luís as angry as the thought that I might refuse to marry Enrique.”

  Doña Bella inhaled a heavy sigh. “You are saying Luís wants control of this business your father spent his lifetime building? Whatever for? He is a successful businessman himself.”

  “We don’t know the answer to that, Mamá,” Santos admitted. “He is a powerful businessman. Perhaps he wants the business for Enrique.”

  “What is Enrique to Don Luís?” Carson questioned.

  The three Mazóns studied one another, then shrugged in turn.

  “A financial wizard,” Doña Bella repeated the oft-spoken phrase. “Luís found him for Domingo.”

  “He studied at the University in Madrid,” Santos added.

  “And learned his trade in the mines in Peru,” Carson added. “Where did Don Luís meet him?”

  “In the City of Mexico,” Doña Bella replied. “Enrique is from a well-established family. They helped Domingo obtain permission to establish the mint.”

  “But you have never met them.”

  “No, Luís arranged…” Her words drifted off. “It cannot be true. Not Luís. He has everything he could need or want…money, power. Why, he is spoken of as the next governor of Potosí.”

  “Where does his money come from?” Carson asked.

  The three Mazóns again exchanged anxious glances. Doña Bella cradled her head in her arms.

  Santos spoke in hushed tones, his hand on his mother’s head. “Now you understand why it is important that you not tell Papá until we find proof.”

  “Sí, hijo,” she replied. Carson recalled the way Don Domingo persisted in referring to Enrique Villasur as son.

  Doña Bella regained her composure. “Run along now, both of you. Relie and I have work to do for the rehearsal and baile tonight.”

  Before he and Santos left the room, Carson approached the desk with Aurelia’s hands still clutching his. “I know this is”—he glanced down at Aurelia, then back at the stricken woman—“unexpected, señora. As soon as we settle the mine trouble, I will speak to you and Don Domingo about your daughter. Aurelia and I love each other. Like Santos said, we want to be married.”

  Aurelia stood beside her mother watching them leave, her heart in her throat. Doña Bella drew her to her side with a loving arm.

  “So that is what changed your mind about Guanajuato?”

  “Sí, Mamá.”

  Doña Bella inhaled heavily. “It cannot be, daughter. Your papá will never approve. He is not of our faith, this Texas Ranger.”

  In the end she wore the red dress to the rehearsal, with its matching stole draped high about her neck to hide the gaudy rubies. It also hid, she hoped, the two fears that grew insidiously inside her heart: the fear that Nuncio Quiroz would carry out his threat to harm Carson and Santos, and the new fear that her parents would find a way to destroy her relationship with this man whom she loved more with every passing day.

  As dusk settled over the high mountain peaks, the entourage of wedding participants made their way from various points in Catorce to the cathedral. The brilliant red and gold of the sunset invigorated Aurelia, adding to the urgency she felt to get on with her mission for the evening: to tell Enrique that she did not intend to marry him.

  When she stepped from the carriage in the blood-red gown, the vibrant sunset streamed across her dress, illuminating the red fabric in sprays of iridescent hues.

  Outside the enormous double doors of the cathedral, the charros waited for the rehearsal to begin.

  Carson stood among them, talking, laughing, his Stetson dwarfed by their sombreros, as it had been at the charriada. When she gathered up her skirts to climb the steps, his eyes traveled her length, sweeping her body as with the heated rays of the setting sun. She expected him to come to her, to offer his hand and escort her inside the cathedral.

  Instead, he suddenly averted his gaze. Before she could reach the vestibule, he and Don Rodrigo Fraga disappeared inside.

  “Hola, Relie.” Enrique’s voice pierced her reveries. The instant he took her elbow, her slippers ground to a halt, reminding her of a burro who, when prodded, often braced its legs and held its ground.

  Inside the church, Enrique waited politely for her to dip her fingers in the Holy Water, then he did the same.

  Her mother’s words reverberated through her already-muddled brain. He is not of our faith, this Texas Ranger. Well, here was one who was of their faith and look what he had done—lied to her father and stolen from her family.

  Her mother and Tía Guadalupe were fast on their heels. She could hear Tía Guadalupe whining about Santos. “He said he wanted only charros in the wedding. That Norteamericano certainly is not…”

  “Relie, over here,” Zita called.

  Aurelia broke from Enrique’s grasp and hurried toward Zita and the other bridesmaids, who were babbling in one corner of the vestibule while Pia’s mother busily instructed them.

  “You will go last, Relie. Just before Pia.”

  “Sí,” Aurelia acknowledged.

  “Do not forget to straighten Pia’s train when she reaches the altar,” Señora Leal instructed. “And again before she comes back down the aisle.”

  Aurelia nodded, her eyes on Pia. “Are you excited?”

  Pia held forth two shaking hands, which Aurelia immediately took in her own.

  “This is only rehearsal, silly. Wait until tomorrow to be nervous.”

  The organ music sounded. The choir began to sing.

  Aurelia glanced behind her. Thankfully, Enrique and the Reinaldos had entered the cathedral.

  “What are they doing here?” Zita questioned.

  “Birddogging me,” Aurelia sighed.

  “When will you tell him?” Pia questioned, rocking from foot to foot.

  “Hurry, girls,” Señora Leal called. “The processional.”

  One by one the bridesmaids began the long walk down the aisle of the grand cathedral.

  Zita lifted an edge of Aurelia’s stole, revealing the rubies. She cringed. “They are garish.”

  Aurelia craned her neck to see down the aisle. From the interior of the cathedral came the padre’s voice, instructing the wedding party.

  Then it was Zita’s turn. “When are you going to tell Enrique?” she whispered just before she stepped off.

  “Tonight,” Aurelia called after her. “At the end of the dance.”

  Zita had time for no more than a wrinkled nose, but Pia scolded her from behind.

  “Tell him at the beginning of the baile, Relie. Then you can dance all night with your handsome Ranger.”

  The padre signaled Aurelia and she stepped into the aisle, walked slowly toward the great golden altar. Tomorrow it would be banked with flowers. Tomorrow the cathedral would be filled with people.

/>   Tonight Carson stood at the end of the long aisle, wearing his black silk suit, standing as straight and as proud as if he were sitting in his saddle atop Sunfisher. He beckoned Aurelia with his eyes, and she could not tear hers away from him. She marched, step by halting step, praying she would not trip, so out of pace was the slow majestic music with her racing heart.

  When she neared the end of the aisle the padre spoke to Carson, who stepped forward, offering his arm. She wanted to run to him, yet at the same time she savored the intense joy that suffused her as he slowly drew her to him with his eyes.

  Reaching him, she slipped her hand in the crook of his elbow. Even through the layers of shirt and jacket, Aurelia felt warmed by the touch of him. How different from the way Enrique’s touch had affected her outside the cathedral.

  “Have you ever been inside a cathedral?” she whispered suddenly.

  Carson’s eyes held hers, warm, sensual, playful.

  “I have now.” He turned them toward the altar. She genuflected, he bowed, then they separated to make room for the bride and groom to stand between them.

  She glanced at him once more before turning her full attention to Pia. Nothing could separate them now. Not this space. Not the church. Nothing. Neither Enrique, nor her parents, nor even time itself.

  At the padre’s instructions, she left Carson, walked with Rodrigo to the altar, and returned to Carson, all as if in a trance. She would tell Enrique tonight. She would tell him tonight, then she and Carson could plan their life together.

  Their wonderful life together.

  Suddenly, the rehearsal was over. Padre Bucareli’s voice startled her out of her reveries with the instruction to see to Pia’s train.

  She stared at the carpeted floor, momentarily disoriented.

  “Tomorrow, Relie,” the padre prompted. “Tomorrow evening at the wedding, do not forget to help Pia around with her train.”

  Pia and Santos strode briskly up the long aisle, headed toward the cathedral doors, and Carson stepped into the space that had separated them.

  The padre shooed them down the aisle. “Andale, Relie, take his arm.”

  Carson grinned. He offered his elbow.

  She took it, her heart skipping to the faster beat of the recessional.

  “I’m going to tell Enrique at the beginning of the baile.”

  He studied her, his eyes slicing through her loneliness and fear.

  “Is that all right?” she asked.

  “More than all right,” he whispered in a husky voice. Before they reached the vestibule, he questioned. “Where?”

  She shrugged. She had worried over the words she would say; she hadn’t considered where she would say them. But thinking on it, she knew she could not reveal such a thing in the middle of the dance floor.

  “Be sure you let Santos and me know where,” Carson cautioned. “We don’t want you alone with him.”

  “Hey, come on, you two,” Santos called. He and Pia stood in the doorway of the cathedral, waiting for the charros to form an arch of sombreros for them to walk under. Carson hurried to take his place; again his smaller Stetson was dwarfed by the sombreros.

  The Reinaldos engulfed her. Although she was able to refuse their offer to ride in their carriage, she could not very well refuse Enrique’s suggestion that he ride in the carriage with her and her parents.

  Since the baile was to be held in the Mazón ballroom, they headed straight home. Doña Bella was in a rush to complete last minute details.

  “Relie and I will walk in the patio, señora,” Enrique suggested after they alighted from the carriage.

  For a moment, Aurelia was afraid her mother had forgotten her promise under the weight of party preparations.

  “No,” Doña Bella finally said. “I need Relie’s help, Enrique. Be a good soldier and help Domingo greet our guests.”

  As things turned out, she did not see Enrique again until the dancing began. The ballroom was filled with people seated around the perimeter in little gold chairs at small white-clothed tables, sipping champagne and indulging in the abundant supply of seafood Doña Bella had shipped in from Veracruz for the occasion.

  But Aurelia remembered the room as it had been the day she sent for Carson. It had been empty then, except for the two of them, and instead of candles on the chandeliers, the room had been lighted by sunshine—and the glow of their love. Guests though they were, this crowd of people seemed an affront to the sanctity of her private place. She stared across the room at her aunt and uncle…some more than others, she thought.

  Much to her chagrin, Tía Guadalupe and Tío Luís had taken a table of honor at the edge of the dance floor near the orchestra, at Papá’s invitation, she knew.

  During the long afternoon of waiting and worrying, Aurelia had begun to wonder how her father would take Luís Reinaldo’s betrayal…and Enrique’s. Did Papá suspect what they were up to? If not, he was certainly in for a big surprise.

  The orchestra tuned its instruments. Don Domingo strode to the podium, from where he toasted the bride-to-be, setting off a series of toasts. The first dance was announced for members of the wedding party only, but Carson was nowhere to be seen.

  Aurelia pursed her lips, searching the room for him, chagrined that he would miss the one dance during the entire evening when he was expected to be her partner. She turned away, straight into Enrique’s arms.

  “Allow me, since that Norteamericano does not know what is customary in our country.”

  Her brain whirred when he swept her onto the floor. Was this the time? Should she direct him to a corner and tell him now?

  “I’m pleased you agreed to let Don Luís make the announcement tonight,” he was saying.

  She glared at him, then swept the room with her gaze, searching for Carson. Santos, of course, danced with Pia. Perhaps she should wait.

  “My father will make the announcement,” she replied. “As is customary.”

  He babbled on, talking about the rubies, her gown, their plans.

  Their plans? His plans. Tío Luís’s plans.

  The dance ended with her considering whether to take Enrique into a corner and break the news. Before she could decide, however, Santos and Pia approached.

  “How about changing partners?” Santos asked Enrique, adding, “For one dance only. I should dance with my little sister once tonight.”

  He whirled her around the room. His grace filled her with pride. Brawn usually denoted a fighter, not a dancer.

  “It’s the years of fighting that taught me how to move like this,” he enjoyed telling skeptics.

  She squeezed his hand. “I’m so happy for you and Pia. You are perfect for each other.”

  His playful eyes turned serious. “Jarrett is on the balcony, back to the left behind those heavy wisteria vines.”

  Her pulse quickened.

  “Take Enrique out there during the next dance. When you finish, stay on the balcony. Send him back inside alone. I’ll stand by in here to see what happens.”

  Aurelia swallowed against a suddenly dry throat. “Stop and let me get a drink.”

  Santos took two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter. “You all right?”

  She nodded, sipping. “What did you find out today?”

  “Kino and Joaquín took us down in the chapel.” He pursed his lips. “Relie, I can’t believe you really went down there…”

  “Santos, please. Chastise me later. Right now, let’s concentrate on getting out of this with our hides.”

  He squeezed her shoulders. “We will, Relie, and with a whole lot more.” His voice suddenly lightened. He fingered the rubies. “But probably not with these.”

  She grimaced. “I can’t wait to get rid of these gaudy things.”

  When the dance ended, Enrique returned Pia to Santos. The two men talked, about what she didn’t know. Her head swam with what she would tell Enrique, with what the consequences would be.

  At the first strains of the next set, she caught his arm. “W
ould you escort me to the balcony?”

  “Sure thing…ah?…” He glanced to Santos, questioning.

  “Go ahead,” Santos replied jovially. “I’ll have my eyes on you.”

  Aurelia inhaled a quivering breath. Trust Santos to add levity to such a moment. Enrique held the door for her. The starlit night swallowed them up.

  She crossed to the rail, glancing right, then left. Her gaze lingered half an instant on the wisteria before she drew her attention back to the situation at hand. Knowing Carson was nearby gave her courage.

  “Those rubies are perfect—” Enrique babbled.

  “I’m not going to marry you, Enrique.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  “You don’t mean that. Why, Don Luís said—”

  “Tío Luís does not speak for me. I speak for myself. There will be no announcement tonight. There will no announcement—ever.” She stopped, breathless.

  “It’s that damned Norteamericano,” he spewed. “He has come between us.”

  “He has nothing to do with it. I don’t want to marry you.”

  “But you said—?”

  “I never said I would.”

  “Your father—?”

  “My father does not speak for me, either.”

  “Relie! That’s blasphemy.”

  She sighed. “I agree it is uncustomary. But that’s how it is. I…I think you should resign your position at the mint. Monday morning.”

  “Resign? Now wait a minute.”

  “You were hired to run the business—as my husband.”

  “That isn’t true.”

  “It is,” she repeated. “But even if it weren’t, you have no reason to stay now. Papá wants control of the mint to stay in the family.”

  “That gringo?”

  “I doubt it. Nevertheless, you should leave. Tío Luís can find you another position.”

  “You’ll regret this, Relie.”

  Reaching behind her neck, she unhooked the clasp and handed him the ruby necklace. “Please return these to my aunt.”

  “Relie, you’ll be sorry.”

  She sighed again. “Not as sorry as we both would be if I married you. Now, why don’t you go back inside? Feel free to enjoy the baile for as long as you wish.”