Cactus Flower (Gone-to-Texas Trilogy) (14 page)

      
Later that evening as he left the town house, Markham thought back over his relationship with the tempestuous woman whose bed he had just left.
When did I cease to be the leader and become the led?
he mused. He had met Tomasina Constanzia Aguilar when she was a dewy-eyed virgin in an English boarding school. Even then, Ashley Markham had been in the profession of espionage, and his government had wanted a contact in Texas. It had been easy for him to follow his instructions. The charming man of the world had swept the girl off her feet.

      
But he had not counted on her willful insistence in following her supposed religious tenets. In retrospect, Markham was certain Tomasina never had a spiritual impulse in her life. No, she simply had wanted a Continental admirer, a platonic girlhood fantasy with him as the principal player; but at the same time she calculatingly had reserved her maidenhead for a wealthy, older husband. Of course, he had guided her in the choice of gullible Jake Carver, who had met his needs as a source of information about Texas politics.

      
He could still recall Tomasina's coming to him in tears after the disaster of her wedding night. Carver had been crude and rough, leaving her repelled and unsatisfied. All Markham's years of practice at seduction had paid off for him as he finally had succeeded in bedding his beautiful quarry.

      
She had become a practiced and inventive lover under his tutelage, but gradually he had begun to notice a restiveness in her. She took him for granted, held him at bay until she wanted to give in, demanded he get more money from his superiors. He had become fascinated with her, while she had become bored with him. Much as it galled him to consider it, Markham was sure her attitude had something to do with her resurgent romance with Jim Slade.

      
Even before Jake's funeral, she had announced to him that she would marry her former swain. Slade was politically influential, privy to Houston's inner circle, she argued. She had tried to convince Markham it would only be another marriage of convenience, but he was certain she was lying. He had observed her with Slade from a distance, watching the intrigue flicker in her eyes.
She's fascinated by that young barbarian, a crude Texian,
he thought in cold fury.

      
Well, if Tomasina loved to play with fire, Ashley Markham held a brace of matches. He massaged the handle of his .36-caliber Colt Patterson. The five-shot revolver was his newest toy, purchased on his last trip to London. Mr. Slade just might not survive the honeymoon.

Chapter Six

      
“I certainly hope James has some decent help in the kitchen by now. That fat old buffoon who cooks for him is a disaster. The food last time was virtually inedible.” Don Antonio Montaldo sniffed.

      
Tomasina, who rode across from him and his wife Beatriz in the carriage, replied, “I understand he has hired a new cook's helper, a young girl from Missouri, who is quite skillful. Also, Lena Valdez is working tonight, and she is competent.” Tomasina knew Don Antonio's veiled question was his way of advising her the
Tejano
community was aware of the relationship between herself and Bluebonnet's owner. Well, damn them, let it be a scandal if they wished! She was abiding by the propriety of mourning, a mourning for Jake Carver she could scarcely feel.

      
The Montaldos were Tomasina’s cousins, slightly older and very straitlaced, pillars of San Antonio's
Tejano
community. Also invited to dinner this evening at Bluebonnet, and sharing the carriage, were the Sandovals, Don José and Doña Esperanza, Jim's aunt and uncle, a vivacious, charming couple who actually seemed younger than Don Antonio and Doña Beatriz.

      
Doña Esperanza dimpled and looked over at Tomasina. “Well, it's about time someone took charge of James's kitchen, and I am glad to see you are aware of who it is, Tomasina. That poor man James’s father hired may be a loyal employee but he is a dreadful cook.”

      
At least she had one ally, Tomasina thought archly, speculating about what the community would think if she were to marry Jim Slade this fall as she had hinted to him. Would it create too great a scandal? After all, Jake had been an old man and an outsider to her
Tejano
circle. Slade, by virtue of being a Sandoval descendant, was accepted.

      
As they rode toward the ranch in the swaying carriage, the five passengers carried on a desultory conversation about politics, the weather, the Indian menace, and other matters of life in the Republic. Tomasina's thoughts were miles ahead with the owner of Bluebonnet. Perhaps she would marry him in October. A strange little quiver of fear and excitement coursed down her spine as she contemplated what it might be like to have him make love to her. He would be no crude, clumsy oaf like Jake, nor a scheming weakling such as Ashley. Both of them were so malleable, so predictable. Of course, Ashley was by far the better lover; but he had become so tiresome of late. The element of excitement and newness in their clandestine affair had worn off long ago.

      
Slade was challenging and attractive, but he was also an unknown in many ways. Tomasina had already learned in the brief course of their resumed courtship that he was no longer a biddable boy, worshipful and adoring. There was a hardness, a calculated, measuring way he treated everyone now. He was truly dangerous, like a wild jungle cat, and he drew her in fascination.
Do I dare to marry him and be at his mercy?
she wondered. She longed to give in, to see what he would do; but she cautioned herself to hold back. Regardless, she knew she would have him. If he proved too troublesome, well, there was always Markham to rid her of the encumbrance of another unwanted husband...

* * * *

      
The dinner party would be arriving shortly, Charlee thought nervously. A hard knot of fear seized her just before she stepped in front of the mirror in her room. “Oh!” she gasped in surprise, unsure whether the woman staring back at her from the glass was truly Chastity Charlene McAllister. Experimentally, she put her hands up to her face, then ran them down her throat and over her breasts, waist, and hips. So much was revealed by these clothes! The neckline of the blouse was rounded and dipped low to show a delicate expanse of collarbone. The blouse clearly revealed the outline of proudly upthrust young breasts. Her waist was incredibly tiny, and the gentle flare of her hips was sensuously revealed by every movement of the skirts as she walked and turned, posing and then gliding her hands over her body in wonder.

      
Maybe it would not be so hard to be a woman after all. Charlee had spent her whole life envying her father and brother all their male prerogatives and freedoms—to wear pants, to be able to spit and swear, to stay out late, and to go hunting whenever they wanted. But during the past several months, she had begun to feel all sorts of new sensations, none of which she would ever admit coincided with meeting Jim Slade.

      
She loved the caress of a soft sheer night rail against her skin, the crackle of her hair as she brushed it to the gleaming luster of polished bronze, even the luxuriousness of soaking in a bathtub. And now here she stood, taking inventory of her appearance, actually so frivolous as to hope she was pretty... She was, wasn't she? Charlee critically inspected her small golden face with bright green cat eyes. Freckles, ugh! She wrinkled a small pert nose in disgust. But they were only a fine dusting, almost hidden now by her tan. Her brows were arched nicely and her forehead high and straight. She had good high cheekbones, she decided, turning this way and that. Her chin was a trifle pointed and pugnacious. She smiled. Good straight teeth, thank heaven, but her mouth was a bit too large. No, perhaps not if she remembered to smile more often. She practiced.

* * * *

      
Jim quickly finished dressing and hurried downstairs when he heard the crunch of carriage wheels on the drive. Tomasina and the other guests were arriving. Her cousin Antonio was one of the men Lee had seen in town conversing with Ashley Markham. Slade was quite anxious to see what he could learn about the Englishman from the pompous old goat. Don Antonio might be implicated in the Mexican government's intrigue, but somehow Slade doubted it. Montaldo had neither the wit nor the nerve to spy. More likely he was simply a pawn of the clever Markham.

      
The guests were greeted in the sala by their host, who treated the widow Carver with a studied familiarity that was duly noted by the others. They were served cool wine by Lena and chatted amicably on a variety of inconsequential subjects. Slade gradually steered the conversation to politics, which set Don Antonio off on one of his tirades against President Houston and the weakness of the government.

      
“Why, we have no dependable means of defending ourselves against Comanche depredations. Those savages raid at will while that drunken barbarian and his cronies sit and swap jokes in Houston City. It's a scandal, I tell you.” Montaldo's florid complexion was mottled with outrage.

      
“Considering how that profligate Lamar bankrupted the government in a war against peaceful Cherokees, it's hardly surprising now that President Houston hasn't the funds to keep standing troops against the real threat of Comanche,” Don José retorted, keenly aware of the friendship between his nephew and the president. He himself, like many other
Tejanos
, had supported the general in his campaign for independence from Mexico.

      
Montaldo snorted, recalling the Sandoval affinity for marrying Anglos.

      
“We do still have the ranging companies, Antonio. They operate as effectively as we can expect on a volunteer basis,” Jim put in, knowing full well Montaldo was aware of his participation in the dangerous work of the intrepid militiamen.

      
“Yes, but there is another thing to consider, James. The militia cannot possibly do the work of trained regulars, no matter how brave and dedicated they may be. Why just the other day I was talking to an acquaintance of mine, an English fellow, Markham…”

      
Tomasina, busy making small talk with her cousin and Jim's aunt, heard Ashley's name. Her senses prickled in warning, and she listened as that babbling old fool Montaldo ranted on about the flaws in deployment of the militia and how helpful Mr. Markham had been in suggesting ways to improve the city council's plans. Damn, she had warned Ashley to be careful about how he pumped information from talkative morons like Montaldo!

      
Anyone shrewd enough to read between the lines of the narrative might well conclude that Markham was a spy! Her black eyes traveled surreptitiously to watch Slade's face. His expression seemed relaxed, even bored,; but those cool golden eyes missed nothing, she was sure, sensing the coiled tension in his body. He was a militiaman of long standing and a friend of Houston's. Could it be possible... ?

      
Tomasina's train of thought was interrupted when that odious girl with the masculine name announced that dinner was ready. The waif no longer looked boyish at all—quite the opposite, in fact. Tomasina Carver's eyes narrowed as she took in the transformation of Charlee McAllister. One brief inspection convinced her that she must get rid of the girl before she replaced that disgraceful Parker tramp, who had created such a scandal. She would not be humiliated by having Jim flaunt a live-in whore again. Let him make discreet trips to those awful places in town if he must, but he would not keep a pretty young female living openly in his house while they were engaged! Then her eyes traveled from Charlee to Jim. Tomorrow was not too soon to have the girl sent away!

      
Slade's eyes widened, then narrowed in reaction to the fetching picture Charlee made in her simple
campesina's
costume. Now, he could see that she was a girl, no doubt about it! The nymph at the pool flashed into his mind, and he felt an unexpected and most embarrassingly unwelcome surge of desire. God, how tantalizing she looked as she turned to go back toward the kitchen, with that mass of changeable-colored hair falling to her waist and those slender hips swaying.

      
“I say, James, is that the cook's new helper?” Don José questioned speculatively. “She certainly doesn't look like the creature Tomasina described to me at all!”

      
“Er...no...she doesn't, does she? The maid must have given her some of her clothes,” Jim replied in agitation. That scheming little minx! Dressing up for the first time in front of Sina and a whole roomful of guests. He felt a sudden urge to wring that slim golden neck. He could see the amused smirks in José and Antonio's eyes. They were drawing the wrong conclusions, and he did not need any further complications with Sina. Slade swore under his breath as he strolled casually across the sala to escort his fiancée to the table.

      
All through dinner, Charlee felt nervous and self-conscious as she moved in and out of the kitchen, serving the elaborate meal. She could sense the eyes of all three men on her, but she was concerned only with the narrowed golden gaze of Jim Slade. He seemed angry with her. In her naïveté, she was bewildered as to why, considering all the times he had berated her for wearing her disgraceful boys' pants and urged her to dress like a female. Now that she had done so, he appeared angrier than ever.

      
And as if Slade wasn't distraction enough, Charlee could feel the hate radiating from Tomasina Carver. The conversation was in Spanish, which was natural considering that all Slade's guests were
Tejano
; but it made Charlee feel even more inferior, intruding on their old world elegance. Just after she had set a demitasse of coffee before Tomasina, she felt a rip as she straightened up. The bitch had caught Charlee's skirt beneath the heel of her fancy slipper and held it fast until it tore! Charlee struggled with an urge to pour the rest of the scalding pot over her tormentor. No, Charlee knew that would be playing into Tomasina's hands and would certainly earn Jim's immediate censure. With gritted teeth she pulled her skirt free and moved on to serve Doña Esperanza.