Midnight Rider

by Diana Palmer

  The sudden sound of loud footsteps and even louder voices out in the hall made them fly apart. Eduardo seemed dazed, which in fact he was. His black eyes studied Bernadette’s bare breasts as if they were incapable of anything else. He touched her again, with quiet wonder, even as the footsteps became louder.

  She started to speak, but he put his finger over her lips and they both held their breath until the footsteps, which had paused briefly at the pantry, suddenly went past and on down the hall toward the living room.

  “Too close,” he murmured softly. He searched her eyes with a rueful smile. “So much for restraint.” He looked down at her breasts and shook his head as he began to pull the chemise and the slip back up to cover her. “How beautiful you are, Bernadette. The sight of you makes a madman of me.”

  She was bereft of words. She watched him dressing her with a sense of unreality. It wasn’t until the buttons were once more fastened that her heart began to beat normally. She was breathless, but not dangerously so. She looked up at him helplessly with longing and adoration.

  He met that soft glance squarely and smiled gently. “It delights me that you have no experience at coyness,” he said. “When I touch you, you deny me nothing. It bodes well for the future.”

  “Are we going to have one?”

  He nodded. “Because I can’t give you up, regardless of my grandmother’s feelings.” He added, “I owe her a great deal, you understand. But marrying Lupe to repay her is more gratitude than I am capable of giving her.” He traced around Bernadette’s soft, swollen lips. “You make my blood race like wildfire through my body. I ache for you, night and day. The wedding must be soon, for the sake of your chastity and my own honor. This—” he indicated their surroundings “—was a near thing.”

  She was puzzled. “A near thing? But it would be impossible for anything indiscreet to happen here.” She laughed nervously. “There’s not even a...a bed!”

  “Oh, Bernadette.” He chuckled. “How innocent you are.”

  “But there isn’t any place... Eduardo!”

  While she was telling him why they couldn’t, he picked her up by the waist and pinned her to the wall with his hips.

  He kissed her gently and let her down again, smiling at her red-faced realization.

  “It is possible to make love while standing,” he whispered, laughing at her shocked gasp. “And in many other unlikely places and positions. Once we’re married, I’ll show you all of them.”

  She tried to find words, and couldn’t get them past her surprise. He smoothed her hair and her dress, opened the door, peered carefully down the hall and tugged her out with him.

  They walked together quite circumspectly to the front porch. “Don’t come out with me,” he said. “It’s much too hot out there.” He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her fingers softly. “I am a most lucky man,” he said with solemn fervor. “And I’ll do my best to make you feel that you’re the luckiest woman alive.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. “You aren’t angry anymore, about the dress?”

  “After this?” He laughed. “No, Bernadette. I’m not angry about the dress. I’ll come back in a day or two to fetch you. We still have to make final the guest list, invitations and a few other arrangements.”

  “I thought Lupe was going to do it all,” she said, trying not to sound bitter or jealous.

  “Not now. It’s your wedding. I think you should decide some of these things.” He looked at her hungrily. “I only want it to be quick.”

  She smiled. “So do I!”

  He shook his head slowly, marveling at the passion they kindled in each other. It was a magnificent thing that a man and a woman should pleasure each other so much in that relatively innocent way. The thought of Bernadette in his bed made his head swim, made his body clench hard with desire. She was going to be sweet heaven to make love to. He could scarcely wait to make her his wife.

  She saw that need in him and her face became radiant. “I’ll try not to disappoint you, even though I’m not Spanish.”

  He chuckled. “That doesn’t matter to me.”

  “It does to your grandmother.”

  His smile faded. “Cross bridges when you come to them,” he counseled. “There’s no need to borrow trouble.”

  “That’s the last thing I want to do.” She took a step forward. “I’ll try to get along with your grandmother. I promise I will.”

  “I know that.” He smiled at her. “Adiós.”

  “Adiós.”

  His eyes narrowed. “You might learn a little of our language,” he said thoughtfully. “That would impress her.”

  She already read and spoke it like a native, but she wasn’t giving away that secret just yet. It still might come in handy to keep him in the dark about some things.

  “I’ll think about it,” she agreed.

  He lifted a careless hand and walked toward the stables, where he’d left his horse to be fed and groomed. All the way to the ranch he relived the passionate moments he’d just shared with Bernadette. And the memories made him wild for the ceremony to be over and done with...and all the guests on their way home.

  He and Bernadette alone....

  CHAPTER NINE

  THE WEDDING TOOK A MONTH TO arrange. Lupe seemed to drag her feet deliberately, with a dozen excuses a day. Meanwhile, the old condessa worked on changing Eduardo’s mind about his bride. She pointed out every flaw she could find with Bernadette, behind her back and to her face. The evenings when Bernadette and her father dined with Eduardo’s family were pure torment.

  Bernadette wondered how she was going to survive in the same house with that vicious old woman. She didn’t dare criticize her to Eduardo. The camaraderie they’d been developing had all but disappeared. He grew more and more tense as the arrangements dragged on, and he didn’t touch his intended bride at all, not even to give her a chaste kiss on the forehead. He kissed her hand, and not very enthusiastically at that. Bernadette worried that he’d lost all desire for her.

  That wasn’t the case at all. His desire had grown to violent proportions, so unmanageable that he was afraid to touch Bernadette lest it get away from him and dishonor them both. He was impatient with Lupe’s delays and his grandmother’s sarcastic comments, but he was determined not to let the women see that they were disturbing him. He only wanted the wedding over. Once he had Bernadette, the rest would work itself out.

  Bernadette had wanted Maria to help dress her for the ceremony in the large hotel in San Antonio where the wedding party was staying for the service at the huge and beautiful Cathedral of San Fernando. But the condessa had said that it would only be proper for Lupe to perform this honored task, and Eduardo, to save argument, had agreed. He wasn’t in the best of humor because his friend who was to have stood for him as best man in the ceremony was ill and couldn’t come. The man had cabled at the last minute, leaving Eduardo with no time to replace him.

  Lupe wore the heaviest perfume she could find, and of course, Bernadette had an asthma attack that almost brought her to her knees. Eduardo, remembering what she’d said about the physician in New York, had her bags searched for the medication that had been prescribed and prayed that she’d had the foresight to bring it with her. She had.

  He gave her the recommended dose himself from the little brown cork-stoppered bottle and cursed silently while it took effect.

  “I’m so...sorry,” Bernadette choked as she fought for each breath until the medicine worked.

  “You have nothing to be sorry for,” he said curtly. “I told Lupe—” He lowered his voice. “I told her about the perfume. She must have forgotten.”

  On purpose, Bernadette thought, and vowed revenge. But this wasn’t the time or the place. She lay back in the chair in her magnificent wedding gown and Eduardo held her hand, not speaking.

  “Bad luck,” she said after a minute, “for you to see me in my gown...before we’re married.”

  “So they all say,” he agreed. “I’m not superstitious
. Nor should you be. Breathe slowly.”

  Bernadette thought how handsome he looked in his morning coat; he was the very picture of sartorial elegance. The white shirt complemented his dark complexion and made his black eyes even more brilliant.

  “You look so nice,” she said.

  He smiled. “And you do, too.” He pursed his lips as he studied the amazing detail of the dress. “The gown is exquisite. From Paris?”

  “Why, no,” she replied and smiled gently. “From Madrid.”

  He was surprised.

  “It was a model, from a new Spanish designer. I fell in love with it in the shop and had to have it.”

  “It suits your fairness.”

  “Thank you.” She sat up slowly, able to breathe a little more easily. “There. I’m better. I feel a little light-headed, but that’s all.”

  He chuckled. “I will hold you up, if necessary.”

  She smiled at him, thinking about the wonderful life they were going to share as she let him help her to her feet.

  Holding her gaze intently, he lowered the thin veil over her face. “The next time I look upon you,” he said softly, “it will be when I lift this veil, and see you for the first time as my wife.”

  “I can hardly wait,” she said huskily.

  “Nor can I.” He lifted her soft hand to his mouth and kissed it just above the knuckles. “Now, let us leave quickly, before any other misfortunes disrupt our plans!”

  He hustled her out the door, past his stunned grandmother and cousin, and down the long staircase.

  “You have broken tradition,” the condessa grumbled as she followed along behind them. “It is bad luck for a man to see his bride in her finery!”

  He turned and looked first at the condessa and then, angrily, at a subdued Lupe. “It is worse luck for the bride not to be able to appear at the ceremony. I told you,” he chastised Lupe, “that heavy perfume would bring on an attack, did I not?”

  Lupe clasped her hands tightly and tried to look dignified. “I forgot. I apologize most humbly.”

  “I think it would be best for you to start thinking about your return journey to Spain,” he said unexpectedly. “I am certain,” he added with a smooth smile, “that you would not want to impose upon a newly married couple.”

  Lupe went pale. The condessa actually gasped. “Eduardo, you forget to whom you speak!” she snapped with curt authority. “This American woman has bewitched you, that you would speak so rudely to a member of your own family!”

  “Bernadette is more saint than witch. She will shortly be my wife,” he added in a soft but menacing tone. “And I will expect her to be treated by my family with the courtesy that is her due. Come, Bernadette.”

  He escorted her outside to the waiting carriage. The patient driver inquired sincerely about her health, having been told the reason for the delay, and helped her into the carriage with Lupe and the condessa. Eduardo was to follow in another carriage, a separation that made Bernadette uneasy. Lupe was still saturated with perfume.

  The door closed and the carriage began to move. The gloves came off at once. The condessa gave Bernadette a glare that would have felled a lesser woman.

  “Of all the nonsense!” she exclaimed angrily. “That you should be the cause of such shame to Lupe!”

  Bernadette, feeling much better from the effects of the medicine, smiled coldly at the old woman. “You may think that I am entirely ignorant of your mischief, but I am not quite so thick. You have done nothing for weeks but try to stop my marriage to Eduardo. You have schemed and plotted and behaved like a minion of the devil in pursuit of your own goals! You are a vicious and manipulative old woman who wants to order the lives of everyone around you. And you,” she added, turning to Lupe as the condessa all but choked on her tongue, “are a rattlesnake masquerading as a woman! You knew that perfume would hurt my lungs, and you wore it deliberately. You are no better than that black scorpion beside you! Neither of you has any right whatsoever to treat Eduardo like a child to be pushed into marriage with a candidate of your choosing! He is a fine and honorable man! What a pity the same cannot be said for his family!”

  “You brazen hussy!” the condessa cried in a high-pitched tone. “All of the county knows that you were out in the desert alone all night with my grandson! The servants whisper of it, they gossip! Your good reputation is ruined, and that is the only reason he is marrying you!”

  Bernadette lifted her chin proudly, although the insult had made her cheeks pale. “Nothing happened in the desert that night that I would be ashamed for people to know about,” she lied convincingly. “But it is not for that reason that Eduardo is marrying me, señora. He needs a substantial loan to repair the damage his mother did to the ranch, to keep it solvent. My father is the only hope he has of getting it.”

  The condessa was taken aback. “My grandson could come to me if he needed money,” she snapped.

  “He could. But why would he, when you would surely insist that he marry the pit viper beside you in order to acquire it?”

  Lupe gasped. “How dare you!”

  “Do not speak to her, Lupe,” the condessa said harshly, trembling with impotent rage. “She is a shame and disgrace to all of us who are Cortes.” She averted her eyes from Bernadette’s wan features. “We shall not speak to her again. If Eduardo wants to ruin his life by marrying her, who are we to stop him?”

  “How nice of you to see reason.” Bernadette clenched her small posy of roses and baby’s breath tightly in her hands and stared out the window. She had never felt so alone or so wounded, even by her father’s insults.

  * * *

  THE CARRIAGE ARRIVED AT THE church where Bernadette’s father awaited her at the curb. He helped her alight as if she truly was and always had been the most treasured of daughters. But as he peered at her through her veil, his beaming smile suddenly died. He glanced angrily at the two tight-lipped women who were being helped out of the carriage by the groomsmen.

  “What’s happened?” he asked his daughter as he led her into the huge cathedral.

  “Nothing that I hadn’t expected,” she said quietly. “You can’t imagine that they’re happy to have him marry an American, can you? They wanted him to marry Lupe.” She laughed miserably. “At least we’ve saved him from that fate worse than death!”

  Her father’s arm tightened under her hand. “Of all the cheek,” he muttered furiously.

  “This isn’t the time,” she said. “Eduardo can’t help who he’s related to.”

  “No, more’s the pity. Buck up, lass,” he added gently. “He won’t let them hurt you.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about me,” she said gaily. “They’re the ones who are going to need protection,” she added, just loudly enough that the condessa and Lupe might hear. She saw them bristle visibly and it gave her the greatest satisfaction she’d had in the past several minutes.

  * * *

  THE CEREMONY WAS ELEGANT AND beautiful. Despite the unpleasantness of its beginning, Bernadette was caught up in the wonder of being married, in the tradition of her own ancestors and of his. They knelt before the priest and the words were eloquent and timeless as he spoke them.

  When Eduardo put the wedding ring on her finger, she felt tears washing down her cheeks. And when he lifted the veil and looked into her eyes, she thought that she’d never seen anything so beautiful as the tenderness in his black eyes as he saw her for the first time as his bride.

  He caught his breath at the radiance in her face. He bent and his lips brushed hers reverently. He lifted his head and smiled. She smiled back. It was finished. They were man and wife.

  On the return trip to the hotel for the reception Bernadette rode with Eduardo. She said nothing of the bitter conversation she’d had with his grandmother and Lupe, thinking that the less said, the sooner mended. Besides, she wanted to push away even the hint of a distressing thought and give free rein to her feelings of love for her new husband.

  Bernadette changed from her wedding gown i
nto a pretty green-and-white patterned party dress for the reception. She wove a matching green ribbon into her hair, braided it and curled it around her head. She looked different, she thought as she surveyed herself in the mirror. She wasn’t beautiful, but she looked radiant, as a bride should.

  She tucked an embroidered silk handkerchief into her purse and went out into the hall, toward the staircase that would take her down to the room where the reception was being held.

  But as she passed Eduardo’s room, she paused. The door was ajar and she thought to join him so that they could go down together.

  The sound of raised voices and a sobbing woman stopped her hand as she started to push the door open.

  “Cannot believe such a thing of her!” Eduardo was saying in Spanish.

  “She laughed at Lupe,” the condessa insisted, in that same tongue, obviously thinking that none of the guests understood the language so there was no danger of eavesdroppers. “She told Lupe that you had to marry her because of what you did together in the desert that night. She said that Lupe was a fool to hope that you could care for her, that she had bewitched you, and that you would toss Lupe and me aside if she asked you to. She said that we...that we would never see you again, that she would make sure of it!”

  Why, the venomous old snake, Bernadette thought angrily. She started to go in, to confront the old woman with her blatant lie, when Eduardo spoke. His words froze her very heart.

  “Bernadette has no voice in what I do at my own house with my own family,” he said. “She will not distress you like this. My own grandmother.”

  Bernadette heard sniffling, but she couldn’t determine if the crying came from the old woman or Lupe. She should have known they would try to punish her for the outburst in the carriage.

  “I would have loaned you the money, Eduardo,” the condessa said miserably. “I would have given you the money. Why did you not ask me? Why, instead, did you marry her?”