“I already have and He didn’t hear me, Padre. No matter how desperate my cries, God never heard me.”
Rosa shivered from the pain in his voice. His hurt ran deep, so deep, that she wondered if he would ever be able to heal. The sorrowful expression on the padre’s face told her that his thought mirrored her own.
No further words were spoken. Esteban led Rosa from the church. Once outside he stopped to take a deep breath needing to cleanse himself of the painful memories. But it lingered like a shadow, refusing to go away, refusing to leave him in peace.
“I’ll take you home,” Esteban said, not glancing at her.
She followed along beside him, knowing there was little else she could do. His free hand reached for the reins draped around the post, and he directed his horse away from the church to walk her home.
It was a short and silent walk and when he stepped toward the front door she gave his hand a gentle tug to stop him. “I do not live in the house.”
“Show me where you reside.”
It was a command and she wondered if that was the only way he knew how to speak... in commands. She nodded and he followed as she walked around to the back of the house and to the small rundown shack that was her home.
Esteban stopped and stared at it for a moment, then with swift steps he opened the door and looked inside. He stepped out just as quickly, the space having been so small he could take the whole room in with a simple glance.
“You live in this hovel?”
She watched fiery anger grow in his eyes and she could have sworn he looked as he had when he had lost his temper and attacked Roberto. She didn’t need to suffer another of Lola’s tirades.
Rosa’s hand quickly flew to rest on his bare chest. The warmth of his hard muscles stung her palm and she thought she felt his heart beating wildly. She spoke softly, hoping to make him understand. “It may not seem like much, but it is my sanctuary and if you say anything to them I will have more chores heaped upon me, and I can barely finish the ones I already have.”
He understood all too well, thinking back to how he had been made to live like an animal and the endless days of backbreaking labor he had been made to endure until the squalid sleeping pallet that had greeted him at night became his sanctuary.
It seemed that they both had endured hardships, but no more. “I will not have you suffer these unbearable conditions. I will see you moved to the hacienda right away.” He stepped away from her and mounted his horse, the animal pawing the ground anxious to be on his way. “Pack your things. I will send someone to collect you before this evening.”
Rosa watched as he rode off, her hand that touched him tingling and sending a shiver through her.
Chapter Six
Rosa stood in the small alcove waiting. It was a beautiful day, the sun bright, the breeze warm, and the hacienda gardens fragrant with new blooms. And yet she felt chilled. In a few minutes she would enter the garden where it seemed the whole town waited to see her wed to Esteban Cesare. She would walk to the arbor plump with red grapes, stand beneath it, beside Esteban, and with a few spoken words she would become his wife... forever.
She shivered at the thought. If only Esteban had convinced his father to have Rosa become a servant at the hacienda rather than become his wife. Esteban had been true to his word and a wagon had come to collect her and her few belongings that day he had told her that he would no longer allow her to live with the Curros. That evening she had taken a stroll through the gardens and had heard Esteban and his father arguing. Esteban thought it more appropriate that Rosa live and work at the hacienda away from the cruel Curros.
His suggestion had ignited a spark of hope in her, though it never flamed to life. Don Alejandro insisted that the marriage would take place, the arrangements having been finalized and the money paid to the Curros.
She had been bought and paid for, but far worse was what Esteban had said after that.
You will regret giving one so innocent to one so evil.
She had run to her room then, her hands over her ears trying desperately to stop the repeated toll of his words in her head. His remark continued to haunt her, more so yesterday when her few possessions were moved to his quarters on the opposite side of the hacienda away from Don Alejandro and his wife’s quarters. No one would be able to hear her cry out.
She shuddered as she heard the guitars being tuned. Soon she would walk alone to meet her fate. She grasped the white lace that flowed in layers from her hips. Her bodice was white lace as well, hugging her slim waist and dipping much too low across her breasts, though she did favor the long sleeves. They hid the fading bruises on her arms.
Her dark hair had been drawn severely up and away from her face and a lovely ivory comb had been secured at the top of the chignon, with a waist length, white lace mantilla draped over it.
Dona Valerianna had seen to all the details of the wedding dress and the styling of her hair. When the servants had finished with her, Dona Valerianna had fastened four strands of pearls around her neck. The pearls hugged her neck tightly and from the center hung a single strand of small pearls that attached to a good-size pear-shaped pearl that rested just above the crevice of her breasts. She had seen such expensive jewels on the hacienda women and thought them beautiful, though they were not for her. She coveted no such gems. She would have much preferred to be free to make her own choices, to live her life as she pleased.
The soft strands of the guitar music interrupted her musings and sent a shiver through her. It was time for her to meet her fate.
She didn’t know how she did it, but she got her feet moving and kept them going even though her legs trembled, and she thought for sure that she would collapse at any moment. They grew weaker when she saw that the people wore no broad smiles of happiness for her, but stared at her as if she was some poor soul being led to the gallows.
Her steps almost faltered when she caught sight of Esteban. He wore all black except for a red sash that wound around his waist. His hair even appeared darker, drawn back away from his face, though left unbound. His dark eyes glared in anger and his lips was set firm, as if he fought to keep from speaking.
Run before it’s too late.
The words tolled like a warning bell in her head. Where would she run to, back to the abusive Curros? There was no place for her to go. She had no choice but to face her fate.
Rosa took her place dutifully beside Esteban, her hands trembling and her mouth so dry she worried that she would not be able to recite her vows.
Esteban leaned over, close enough so that his warm whispered breath faintly brushed her cheek as his warning echoed her own. “Run before it’s too late.”
Even if she wanted to Rosa could not move, her legs trembled too badly. She so worried that she would crumble right there beside him that she reached over and rested her hand on his arm.
She thought for a moment that she caught a brief look of shock on his face, but it was so sudden that she couldn’t be sure that she saw it at all.
Padre Marten cleared his throat, catching their attention, and began the ceremony.
Rosa barely whispered her vows, while Esteban recited his with depth and clarity. When the ceremony finished, the padre declaring them husband and wife, silence filled the garden.
Esteban turned to Rosa. “Now for our first kiss.”
Rosa’s mouth dropped open.
“Eager to taste me, wife?” Esteban said as his hand shot out, grabbed the back of her neck and claimed her lips with a force that had Rosa grabbing hold of his arms as his tongue rushed into her mouth.
She wasn’t sure what to do, and then she realized that though his kiss had seemed forceful, it was more commanding. And the dance of his tongue with hers, the warmth of his strong hand at her neck, and the feel of his powerful lips all served to turn her body powerless to his will.
He pulled his mouth away so abruptly that she experienced a sense of loss, her thoughts cloudy, and her legs growing weaker, as if she was about
to collapse. She clamped on tightly to his arm for support.
He brought their kiss to an end and eased his arm around her, then asked, “Are you all right?”
It took her a moment to nod, since she wasn’t certain how she felt. His kiss wasn’t at all unpleasant and the concern in his voice for her sounded sincere. Did he actually care how she felt?
Don Alejandro was soon upon them with a broad smile, offering congratulations and stating how proud he was to have her as his daughter. Dona Valerianna joined him, expressing her own joy over the marriage and soon the guests were cheering and stepping up to congratulate the newlywed couple.
The guests were shown to another garden where food and drink waited in abundance. Music played and wine began to flow and the festivities began.
Rosa soon found herself alone, Don Alejandro having commandeered a most reluctant Esteban to meet with some of the other dons. She had been surprised that Esteban had remained by her side and been cordial, if a nod and a scowl could be called cordial, to all who had approached them. However, now that everyone had dutifully wished them well, the guests had drifted off to talk amongst themselves, leaving her feeling a bit isolated from the festivities.
She noticed that her friends, the peasants she had grown up with, were cordoned off by a low row of hedges, as if a line had been drawn between the two groups. Marinda caught her eye and beckoned her to join them. She didn’t think twice, she hurried over to her friends.
They drank the fine Cesare’s wines, talked, and laughed. Esteban had yet to return to her and she had not spied him since he had left her side. Surely her friends had noticed his absence, but none were so rude as to remark on it.
The night wore on and Rosa was beginning to think that Esteban had purposely fled the festivities or perhaps it was her that he wasn’t interested in being around. Could he be averse to claiming his husbandly rights? She wasn’t sure if she was relieved or troubled by the thought. She got it in her head to retire to the room that had been assigned to her when she had first arrived a few days ago. The idea took root quickly enough and helped to relieve the nervousness in her stomach, allowing her to eat, drink, and enjoy the wedding festivities.
Guests began taking their leave and she politely thanked each one for attending.
When Marinda approached, Rosa threw her arms around her friend. “Thank you for sharing this day with me.”
Marinda returned the hug and whispered, “You were wise in drinking much wine. It will make the night easier for you.”
Rosa hadn’t realized she had drunk that much wine, though she did feel a slight dizziness in her head. With one last hug to Marinda and a wave to Paco, Rosa turned to attend to the few guests who lingered. She poured herself another glass of wine and strolled amongst the near empty tables that had been set up for the occasion. The few lingering occupants smiled at her, though none extended an invitation for her to join them, whereas her friends had welcomed her with open arms.
She looked over across the hedges and saw that the tables had been cleared and were being removed. All her friends had left, the celebration was waning and soon it would be time for her to retire. She hoped her plan of sneaking off to her room was successful, and she would be spared the night with her new husband.
An hour later, her head spinning a bit more and fatigue creeping up on her, she finally bid farewell to the last few guests.
“Make sure that you behave and do your duty to your husband,” Roberto ordered as he approached her, Lola following close behind. “I want people to know that I taught you well.”
Rosa didn’t know if it was the years of abuse by the Curros or the wine that gave her the courage to speak, but something did for the words spewed from her mouth before she could stop them. “What duty did you do by me? You took a frightened young girl who had just lost her loving parents into your home and treated her like a servant, raising your hand to her at whim. Never once did you care for me. You used me at every chance you got, especially now when you sold me and committed me to hell for a hefty dowry price.”
She knew with her last words that she was about to suffer for speaking her mind, but she didn’t care if Roberto raised a hand to her. It would be the last time. She would never see the pair again and at least she would have her say. A bruise or two was a small price to pay for the satisfaction of telling the couple what she thought of them.
Roberto’s face grew bright red and he sputtered and spit as he tried to speak. “How dare you—” he raised his hand and Rosa did not turn away or cower. She braced herself and held her chin high.
Rosa was shocked at the speed in which Roberto disappeared before her eyes and when she saw that Esteban had him planted against the wall, his one hand at his throat and the other holding a knife, she paled.
“I told you that if you ever touched her again I’d kill you,” Esteban said and in a flash moved his hand away from the trembling man’s throat and pressed the point of a knife against it.
“Esteban!” his father shouted
Rosa reacted without thought. She hurried to her husband’s side and placed her hand on his arm. “Please, Esteban, I beg of you, do not spill blood on our wedding day.”
Esteban turned to her and glanced at her hand on his arm. She had a gentle touch, and he had not known gentleness in a long time. He lowered the knife and stepped back, though turned a heavy scowl on Roberto.
“You are not welcome on Cesare land ever again and do not dare speak to my wife when in her presence or next time—no one—will stop me from killing you.”
Roberto nodded and hurried off, Lola hugging close to his side.
Don Alejandro turned on his son as soon as they left. “Whatever is the matter with you acting so barbarically on your wedding day?”
Esteban went to take a step toward his father but Rosa’s hand stayed him, though didn’t prevent him from responding. “What else would you expect from a barbarian, Father?”
“You are not a barbarian and not need act as one,” Alejandro scolded.
“You don’t listen very well, Father, or should I once again remind you what has made me one?”
“You wouldn’t be so crude to do such a thing in front of the women,” his father chided.
Before Esteban could challenge him, he felt Rosa squeeze his arm and he looked down at her. She was as pale as the white lace gown she wore. She didn’t need to say a word, he knew she was about to be ill. With a firm arm around her waist, he rushed her outside, her feet never touching the ground. He got her to the bushes and ripped the mantilla from her head just in time to bend her over his arm so that she could retch.
When she finished, she dropped back against him and moaned.
He unbound the red sash from around his waist, and then gently lifted her into his arms. She weighed hardly anything and her petite size irritated him. How could she defend herself against anyone? He walked over to the small wall fountain spewing water from the widespread mouth of a man with sculpted leaves for hair. He sat on the bench beside the fountain keeping Rosa on his lap to rest against his chest while he wet and rinsed the sash in the basin that caught the running water and then, with care, wiped her face.
She moaned again.
“Was the thought of fulfilling your wifely duties so difficult to accept that you drank yourself drunk?”
She pushed away from him, but found it a mistake, her head spinning and quickly rested it on his shoulder once again. “I intended to sleep in my room tonight.”
“And you thought I would approve of this?”
Though she was feeling ill, she still had a modicum of courage left from the wine. “You did not wish to wed me, why then would you want to bed me?”
“Because you are a beauty and have a luscious body and I am a man with needs.”
The thought that he would take her to only satisfy himself left her feeling sick all over again. Her stomach rumbled and he once again took her to the bushes where she retched until she could retch no more.
Th
is time however he did not return to the fountain. And Rosa had no doubt where he was taking her and a few minutes later she was proven right. He entered his quarters bolting the latch behind him.
When he eased her down on her feet, she dared ask, “Will a servant come help me undress?” her head still spun and she knew she’d never be able to get out of her wedding dress without assistance.
“No,” he said bluntly. “I’ll undress you.”
Rosa wasn’t sure if it was the shock of his words or the wine finally taking its toll, but suddenly everything began to fade away into the distance, as if she was falling down a hole and she wondered what would happen when she hit bottom.
Chapter Seven
Rosa didn’t want to wake from her dream. The bed was much too soft as was the blanket she snuggled under and the scent intoxicating, though she couldn’t quite recall it. Once she opened her eyes the dream would be gone and she would wake to find herself in her narrow bed with its straw stuffing and threadbare bedcovers.
She clamped her eyes tightly shut hoping to hold onto her dream for a bit longer, and then her memory began to return. She no longer lived in the rundown shack that had been her home. She had been moved to the Cesare hacienda and yesterday she had been wed to Esteban Cesare. And worst of all, she had drunk too much at the wedding celebration and Esteban had been the one to come to her rescue. He had brought her to his room and was about to undress her when... her eyes popped wide and she lifted the blanket to peer beneath.
Good lord, she was naked.
“It wasn’t easy getting you out of that much lace, especially since you were passed out.”
Rosa pulled the blanket over her head, her cheeks burning bright. Esteban had undressed her, had seen her naked, and had touched her. What else had he done to her?
The blanket was suddenly ripped from her hands and pulled down below her neck. Her eyes remained wide and her cheeks continued to flame as she stared at him. He didn’t gloat or smile, he just stared with those cold, angry eyes that frightened down to the bone and sent a chill through her, or perhaps the chill came from the fact that he stood naked to the waist, his chest defined with such muscle that he appeared sculpted by a master artist.
Renegade Love (Rancheros) Page 5
