Golden Paradise (Vincente 1)

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Golden Paradise (Vincente 1) Page 9

by Constance O'Banyon


  "I know the basics, but I would be no competition for you, Don Alonso," Valentina replied modestly. In truth she was an excellent chess player and had on occasion beaten her father, who was considered a master of the game.

  "Remarkable," Don Alonso stated, feeling elated that Valentina was able to hold her own against Isabel. "Is it possible that you might also know the names of the planets, my dear? I would be impressed if you could name only one of the planets."

  "You expect too much, Grandfather," Rosalia spoke up. "Very few men, let alone women, have your passion for the stars. And no one but Marquis is your equal at chess."

  The old grandee's eyes locked with Valentina's. "Do you know about Sir Isaac Newton?"

  Valentina nodded. "Of course. Was he not an Englishman?"

  Don Alonso looked doubtful. "What theory did he prove?" he asked, testing her.

  Several people had gathered around, listening to the conversation. Isabel cast Valentina a glance that clearly told her she had dug a hole and was in over her head. She was waiting for Valentina to be taken down to size by Don Alonso's knowledge of the planets.

  "My father was a student of the planets. I confess he infected me with his enthusiasm at a very early age," Valentina admitted.

  Still unconvinced but hoping Valentina could redeem herself, Don Alonso pressed her farther. "What theory did Newton subscribe to?"

  Valentina smiled. "My father may have taught me about the planets, Don Alonso, but it was my mother who warned me against showing off to men. She taught me that gentlemen do not like a woman with a brain. I was warned by my father that it is unconventional for a woman to let others see she has a mind and can think for herself."

  Isabel tossed her raven hair. "You are just stalling because you do not have an answer. You know no more about the stars and planets than I do."

  Somehow Isabel's words hit a sore spot. She had issued a challenge that Valentina could not ignore. Even though Valentina knew her mother would not approve of her being ostentatious, she decided to display some of her knowledge without flaunting her accomplishments. "Sir Isaac Newton discovered the law of universal gravitation. He proved the sun's pull on the planets."

  Don Alonso clapped his hands delightedly. "Brava, that is correct! You are an exceptional young woman indeed. I wouldn't be surprised, Senorita Barrett, if you knew the names of the planets as well."

  Valentina met Isabel's glance and felt the need to go a step beyond what her mother would consider good taste. She could feel Marquis's eyes on her, but she dared not look at him. "I will name them in order: Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, Jupiter—"

  As the color drained from Isabel's face, it seemed to suffuse Don Alonso's. "Brava, brava. You are a woman after my heart," he interrupted, needing to hear no more. "If I were fifty years younger, I would woo and win you, Senorita Barrett."

  Valentina smiled at the old grandee, unaware that she was being provocative for the first time in her life. "I have always preferred older men, Don Alonso."

  "Ah ha, I believe you are flirting with me. Would you be after my money or my mind?" His laughter was deep; he was delighted with his young houseguest.

  Isabel burned, knowing this English woman was receiving the attention that should have been showered on her. Spitefulness and hatred burned in her black heart.

  Valentina's laughter joined the grandee's. She was unaware that she was stirring turmoil, creating a tempest that would soon rage out of control. "Money . . . I do not think so, senor. But perhaps I could be after you for your mind ... or perhaps I only need a good chess partner."

  Don Alonso shook with laughter. "With that kind of talk, you will surely wring a marriage proposal out of me, lovely senorita."

  Isabel noticed the way Marquis was staring at Valentina and she did not like it at all. The Spanish guitars were playing softly and she decided to draw his attention to herself. If there was one thing she could do well, it was dance. The puny English woman might have captured Marquis's attention for the moment, but no woman in the past had been able to hold a man when she started dancing. Her hips swayed and her heels tapped. She would fire Marquis's blood tonight. Perhaps she would even allow him to make love to her.

  Eleanor knew her sister so well she could read her thoughts. She was jealous of the English woman, and Eleanor was aware that Isabel would grudgingly guard anything that she considered hers; she would stop at nothing to keep her hold on Marquis. Could any man resist her beautiful sister when she started dancing? Eleanor watched Marquis force his eyes away from the beautiful guest to watch Isabel's dance. Eleanor could feel Marquis's torment. He was drawn to the English beauty, but duty marked his destiny. Perhaps she alone was aware of the undercurrents that were sweeping Marquis and Valentina along.

  Valentina spent the evening talking with Don Alonso. He kept her beside him, introducing her to his friends and neighbors. She found the Spanish people gracious and polite. She admired their passion for living, their love of the land, and their feeling of loyalty. Once in a while Valentina's eyes would stray to Marquis Vincente. He was always with Isabel. She watched them dance together with a strange ache in her heart. She was glad she was leaving tomorrow. There was nothing but sorrow for her in this house. If she were to stay too long, she would be hopelessly in love with Marquis Vincente. That would never do because he belonged to Isabel Estrada.

  Valentina sat beside Don Alonso at dinner. She enjoyed his sharp wit and winsome ways. He was charming and attentive. She could only imagine the number of women who had fallen victim to his charm in his younger days. He must have been every bit as devastating to the female heart as his grandson was now.

  As the evening progressed, the guests began taking their leave. Suddenly the guitars slowed, and one of the men began singing a beautiful love song. Valentina was startled when Marquis appeared at her side and held out his hand.

  "Will you do me the honor of dancing with me, senorita?"

  Valentina hesitated only a moment before taking his hand. She was in a daze as he led her across the flagstone walkway to the fountain. Slipping his arm about her waist, he moved her into a slow Spanish dance step. The music was hauntingly beautiful, the night sky reflected a thousand twinkling stars, and Marquis's eyes were as soft as black velvet.

  Valentina gave into the gentle enchantment that drew her under Marquis's spell. She could feel herself falling in love with him. Could love come so quickly? Would she ever be able to forget this dark man who had taken her heart without even being aware of it? Hurt and heartbreak would come later when reality settled in, but for now she was caught within a magic moment of time.

  Over his shoulder Valentina could see Isabel's face distorted with anger. Glancing up at Marquis, she smiled slightly, breaking the enchantment. "I fear your lady love is not happy that we are dancing together. It is not my intention to cause trouble for you."

  His eyes moved to her creamy lips, and she felt a shiver of delight run the length of her spine. "I believe you will cause me much trouble if I am not on guard."

  "I don't know what you—"

  "Do you not?" he interrupted, tension clouding his expression. "You cannot tell me a woman with your intelligence does not suspect when a man is fascinated with her."

  "I believe I have been a nuisance to you," she said, choosing to misunderstanding his meaning.

  He smiled down at her and shook his head. "A nuisance? Not hardly." A shiver of astonishing delight ran through her body at his deep, caressing tone. "If I kissed those lips, would I lose my heart for all eternity, Valentina Barrett?"

  Her face flamed, and she looked into the depths of his eyes to see if he were jesting. There was no laughter or mockery in the velvety depths, only a soft glow of sincerity that made Valentina's knees turn to water. "I don't believe you should be saying these things to me." The words were spoken breathlessly, without reprimand.

  "Must one hide the truth behind the false face of deception? Must I pretend that you have not disturbed me beyond reason?" he ask
ed in a sharp tone. "Do not pretend you do not know you have been tying me in knots all day."

  Valentina was young and inexperienced. She had never before had a man make love to her with words. She had no doubt that Marquis was accustomed to making pretty speeches to all the women of his acquaintance. He would not know that he was breaking her heart by pretending to feel something for her that he did not feel.

  "Please, don't," she pleaded, staring into his eyes. "Don't do this to me."

  Her words did not deter Marquis. She felt his hand tighten on hers. "If only I could hold you like this for all time. If we were alone I would kiss you." The soft sound of his voice vibrated through her body, wreaking havoc in her tortured mind.

  "Beautiful English rose," he whispered, fanning her face with his warm breath. "Silver-eyed goddess, why do you torment me?" Valentina trembled all the way to her toes. She felt his hand move across her back to still the motion. "You have nothing to fear from me, Silver Eyes. I will never do anything to harm you."

  His words were not very reassuring to Valentina. She feared what he was doing to her safe little world. He was turning her from an innocent to a woman fully awakened by frightening longings.

  While he spoke, he was assessing her every feature. Her facial structure was delicate, each shape existing in perfect harmony with the whole. She would be beautiful carved in stone. She was a thing from which dreams were spun. But a second look told him a sculpture could never capture the true Valentina. She was brimming with life, vitality, and hidden passion.

  She was so beautiful to look upon that it took his breath away. His eyes roamed across her bare shoulders where the skin was as soft and white as alabaster. As the soft moonlight touched her hair, making it sparkle, Marquis could feel himself falling more in love with her. Her eyes, reflecting silver, were soft and innocent. She was fascinating and he could not keep his body from trembling at the thought of making love to her. He saw uncertainty in her gaze, as if she did not know what his intentions were regarding her. It pained him to know she was frightened of him. He smiled, wanting to reassure her, but she pulled back in fear.

  "I would sooner cut off my arm than cause you distress, Senorita Barrett. If I have frightened you, forgive me."

  "I do not admire insincerity," she said, finding that her voice came out in a breathless whisper. "I do not want to be told the things you probably tell all other women. You would do well to save your praise for the woman you are to marry, Senor Vincente."

  His smile was soft as he cocked his head. Valentina had not noticed that he had danced her to the far side of the fountain, which was out of sight of the others.

  Before she suspected his intentions, he pulled her up on tiptoes, and softly touched her lips with his. Valentina melted against him, feeling as if her whole world was whirling and spinning out of control. Her heart was thundering against her ribs and she had the strangest feeling of unreality.

  Raising his head, Marquis frowned at her with eyes like swirling storms. "Does that not prove that I was not being insincere?" Reaching for her hand, he placed it against his chest. "Feel the beating of my heart, Valentina. Feel what you have done to me."

  She heard the ring of longing in his voice. Tears sparkled in her eyes as she felt his heart beneath her fingertips beating as wildly as her own. Pulling her hand away, she shook her head, unable to speak.

  In that moment he saw the hopelessness of their situation. They could never be together. They were not meant to fall in love. She could never belong to him. "Perhaps it would be best if I take you back now."

  Valentina did not wait for him to accompany her. Lifting her skirt, she hurried away, fearing her heart would burst with the frightening new feelings Marquis had awakened in her.

  When she saw Rosalia standing beside her mother, she hurried in that direction. She was so confused that she hardly noticed when Marquis excused himself. In the periphery of her mind, she heard Dona Anna excuse her son's departure, explaining how one of the vaqueros had been attacked by a bear the day before and that Marquis needed to see to his comfort.

  No one seemed to notice that Valentina was unusually silent the rest, of the evening—no one but Isabel and Eleanor.

  Isabel elbowed her way past her mother and father to stand beside Valentina. "Tell me, Senorita Barrett," she asked, artfully opening her fan and running delicate fingers over the ivory carving while her dark eyes pinned Valentina with their heat, "is it usual for a woman from your country to go about in the company of a man, without a proper chaperone?"

  Valentina's glance was drawn to Eleanor. She saw the smile of encouragement, as though the younger Estrada were offering her sympathy. Apparently she did not approve of her sister's rude tactics.

  "It would be most unusual in England, Senorita Isabel," Valentina answered, "but, you see, I had no choice in the matter. I had no one to accompany me but Santiago, whom I consider a very able guide."

  Isabel smiled spitefully. "A woman in Spain would never be allowed to travel alone with a man, even if he were an old man," she said, snapping her fan shut.

  Rosalia, who was seated near Valentina, leaned forward and whispered in her ear, "Do not let anything Isabel says trouble you. She is only jealous that my brother finds you beautiful."

  "I hardly listen to her, Rosalia." It was true. Valentina had been so deep in thought about Marquis that she paid little heed to the barbed remarks Isabel had made.

  Don Alonso and Dona Anna watched the woman who was to marry Marquis. They both realized that Isabel did not have a sweet disposition. She was deliberately being rude to Valentina Barrett. Don Alonso shrugged his shoulders and lowered his voice so only his daughter-in-law could hear. "Marriage has changed many a young woman into a suitable matron. I am sure the same will happen when Marquis takes Isabel as his wife."

  Dona Anna nodded her head in agreement. It did not matter overmuch if Isabel had an ungracious temperament. Once she became mistress of Paraiso del Norte, she would change. Opening her black lace fan, Dona Anna whispered behind it so only her father-in-law could hear, "I cannot really blame Isabel for being in an ill humor tonight. Marquis did pay marked attention to our houseguest. It was shameful and unforgivable."

  The grandee blinked his wise old eyes. "Let it be, Dona Anna. Marquis could have behaved no differently." There was more to it than rudeness on Marquis's part. It was as if the young English maiden had brought his grandson to life. Marquis had been stunned and overwhelmed by her beauty. Don Alonso could feel in his bones that trouble lay ahead.

  "Valentina, would you like to go riding with me tomorrow?" Rosalia asked. "I am sure the doctor would allow it." Feeling she should include Isabel and Eleanor, Rosalia quickly added, "The two of you would be welcome to come along too if you like."

  Isabel's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Will Marquis be going with you?" She had no wish to ride with Rosalia and Valentina. However, she had no intention of allowing Marquis to go with them unless she also went along. Marquis belonged to her. This woman with delicate beauty and strange silver eyes would never take him away from her.

  "No, he will be hunting the rogue bear that is stirring up trouble for the nearby ranches," Rosalia answered.

  Isabel shrugged her shoulders. "My sister doesn't ride, and I don't care for horses. I prefer to do my riding in the inside of a coach."

  Valentina had seen Eleanor's eyes light up only to become empty moments later at her sister's refusal on her behalf. Eleanor had wanted to go, but evidently her sister controlled her so completely that she dictated what she could and could not do. Valentina felt pity for Eleanor but knew it was not her place to interfere.

  "I would be delighted to ride with you tomorrow, Rosalia," Valentina declared, wishing herself a hundred miles away from here. There was trouble brewing in this house just below the surface. Valentina knew it would take very little to bring it all to a head.

  Marquis had awakened feelings in her that would have been better left untapped. She had been subjected to Isabel's
poisonous barbs all evening and was relieved when she could politely excuse herself and retreat to her bedroom. Soon she would be on her way back to San Francisco, and perhaps she would be able to forget about today.

  In the early morning hours, too troubled to sleep, Valentina stood by the window watching the stars disappear one by one. She looked at the fading silvery moon that cast shadows over the landscape. She could see the road that led away from the house. Soon she would take that road and disappear from Marquis Vincente's life forever. He would marry Isabel, they would have children, and she would be no more than a memory to him—if even that. Running her hand down the window casement, she wondered if she would ever be able to forget the things Marquis had said to her tonight. She would have to have been a fool not to know he had been attracted to her.

  She wished Salamar were with her so she could ask her if there was a difference between attraction and love. Turning away from the window, she moved to the bed. Valentina knew she was treading a dangerous path. Soon she would be with Salamar, who would help her regain her perspective so she could put her priorities in order.

  8

  Beneath a bright canopy of blue sky, with fleecy clouds floating lazily by, Valentina and Rosalia rode away from the hacienda. It appeared to have rained during the night because the grass and trees sparkled with dampness and gave off a freshness that filled Valentina's nostrils. The dun-colored mare she rode pranced and tossed its silken mane, showing its superior bloodlines.

  Laughter and lightheartedness overcame all else as the spirited horse Valentina rode covered the distance with wide strides. She felt invigorated, alive. She had not enjoyed the freedom of riding across grassy meadows since she had left England. An expert horsewoman, Valentina gloried in the feel of the wind in her hair, and her cheeks were awash with excitement as they moved out of sight of the house. Galloping up hills and across valleys, she felt she could ride forever and never come to the end of this wild, unpredictable land.

 

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