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Rafael Gomez listened intently, his face a mask of both admiration and envy at his compadre’s fortune and power.  His black eyes seemed to glaze over with awe at the other man’s prowess both with matters of business and of pleasure.  He tore his eyes from Diego’s commanding figure and looked adoringly at his host’s lovely wife.  A smile creased his mouth and a wink toward her indifferent face made him shift in his chair as his pants began to disclose the evidence of his ardor.  A stab of jealousy caused him to choke on the expensive brandy that he had brought to his suddenly parched lips.

Savannah seethed at the other man’s obvious infatuation with her, which made her skin crawl and her appetite to diminish.  Noisily, she shoved her plate forward in protest that her supposedly devoted husband had not noticed his guest’s conspicuous gesture of desire.  She ignored Mr. Gomez and glared accusingly at Diego, who seemed to ignore both of them while he droned on in his one-sided conversation.  Throwing her napkin onto her plate, she growled her offense at his disregard as to her honor and rose abruptly from her chair.

Diego, who had finally noticed her bizarre behavior, put his knife down on his plate and purred in unconcerned aloofness, “Are you ill, Querida?”

Knowing that he really was not worried about her welfare, Savannah tipped her head slightly as she softened her features and answered, “No, Diego.  I’m just tired.  I would like to go to my room.”  She shifted her head toward Rafael and said politely, “Good evening, Mr. Gomez.  I am pleased that you have graced us with your delightful company.  I hope that you will come again soon.”

Assuming that her smile was an invitation to rise and take her hand into his, he hovered over her delicate fingers before he placed his wet lips there, his black eyes glistened with lust as he lifted them toward her livid face before he breathed, “It has been a pleasure and I look forward to another visit.  I am deeply sorry that you must leave.”

Averting her eyes from his unmistakably immoral undertone, she glared again at her husband, who had returned his attention to his meal.  In angered protest, she snatched her hand from the man and narrowed her eyes at him in admonition at his advances toward her as she said in a voice that could not be construed as compliant, “I hope that Mrs. Gomez will be accompanying you on your next visit.”

Rafael bowed in defeat as he replied, “I am afraid that my lovely wife is not feeling well lately.”

“Do convey to her my concern for her welfare, will you?” Savannah said with a fake smile pasted on her face as she turned away from him.

She heard him say that he would as she glided across the terrazzo floor to the wrought iron stair case.  As she placed her foot upon the first step, she heard Rafael’s voice call from beyond the hallway, “Buenos Noches.”  Without looking back at him or her husband, she hurried up the stairs to her room. 

At the dining table, Diego fumed inwardly at her selfishness and impudence.  No respectable Mexican woman would have coldly left him with his guest but instead, she would have politely conversed with the person for a moment or two before she excused herself.  This one, he thought, would have to be taught how to act in the presence of company.  Not to worry, he would see to it that she apologized in the morning.  Right now, he must regain the conversation that was lost in her leave-taking, for his guest’s contacts in the local government were invaluable to his preparation for total control of the lands surrounding his compound.  He was not content with the mere three thousand acres of Mexican landscape that he owned, but he was hungry to be in command of all that he could manage to acquire through his delicate maneuvering.

“Your wife is a very beautiful woman,” Rafael’s voice shattered Diego’s blissful thoughts.

He shifted forward in his chair and frowned slightly while he stared into his empty snifter and conceded, “Yes, she is.  But, I am afraid that she has no manners.”

“Nonsense,” Rafael disagreed with a wave of his hand.  “She is from the barbarous American states.  She will learn our culture with time.”

“With time and a heavy hand,” Diego said disdainfully.

“A delicate flower need not be forced from her bed of vice but perceptively plucked and then eased into the vase of compliance,” Rafael corrected as tactfully as he could.

“Ah, my friend, you are much too compassionate with your women,” Diego admonished as he offered the man a cigar.  “That is why your third wife is, at this very moment, feigning illness in order to avoid accompanying you tonight.”

Rafael took the cigar and nodded as he puffed upon the match that Diego put toward him, then agreed without remorse, “She is a cunning one, that Yolanda.  But, I assure you, she is indeed not well.  I am afraid that I have some disturbing news.”

His interest peaked, Diego raised his eyebrow and asked, “Tell me, my friend.  What is ailing your poor wife?”

“She has miscarried yet again,” Rafael said sadly, shaking his head.

“I am indeed sorry for your loss,” Diego said with genuine concern.  “Is there anything that we can do?  Perhaps a visit from my Savannah would raise her spirits?”

“Yes, that would be appreciated, I am sure.  But, in a few weeks when she has recovered and is in a more cheerful state of mind, your dear wife will be welcomed.”

Nodding, Diego puffed on his cigar and proceeded to change the subject to the only thing that possessed his mind, “I have not heard from the magistrate concerning my appointment.  Do you suppose there is some problem with their selection process?”

“No, no.  There should be no problems.  I assure you, my friend, with my influence and your capability our efforts to bring this part of the nation together in harmony will be rewarded in due time.”

Satisfied that his friend was confident in their endeavor, Diego smiled inwardly at the ignorance of the man who thought that he would be allowed to join him in this venture.  In due time, he said inside his mind, I will rid myself of your assistance and will enjoy my reign as commissioner.  He smiled warmly at Rafael as he nodded his appreciation of the man’s pursuit of a common goal.  And when it was time for his friend to leave, he reiterated his gratitude in a gift of a silver platter that he insisted that the man take to his ailing wife.

Finally having confirmation of his impending appointment, he retired to his bedchamber and saluted his cleverness and cunning ability to manipulate everyone that he encountered.  He sucked in a breath of annoyance at the thought of Savannah’s insolence and resolved to break that filly of her spirit one way or another.  Indeed, Rafael was too soft on his women and in his business affairs, which is why each of his wives has ruled his roost and why he could never become the dominant figure that Diego was.  And that, he thought as he slipped into his large, yet empty bed, would never be his own downfall, for he planned to make his wife submissive even if it killed her.

He had put up with her shyness in the beginning, knowing that she was still in mourning for her father.  And he had let her lie alone in her bed while she was pregnant for fear that his attention might hurt the child inside her.  And, he now slept alone while she nursed the only other heir to her dynasty until the boy was old enough to be fed without the need for his mother’s milk.  Rest assured, my love, he whispered into his pillow as he punched it into submission.  I have not been lonely while you have pretended to avoid my attention.  And as if summoned by his unspoken desire, a dark shadow crept into the room and lifted the blankets to reveal his hunger for her.

He welcomed Maria into his bed and gave to her all the emotion and admiration that he knew should only be savored by his wife.  But, since Maria was accommodating and willing to please him in any way that he desired, she had been his mistress since before his marriage to the woman from Georgia.  And, if he had his way, she would continue to be his mistress even after he was rid of his wife once and for all. 

He gently rubbed his fingertips over the scars on Maria’s bronzed back, scars that he himself had raised the one and only time that she had defied him, while he groaned his approval of her mastery of his body with her full, obliging lips.  Then, he pulled her onto his chest forcefully and thrust his tongue into her mouth.  Her eager tongue danced hungrily with his while he ravished her as if she were the spoils left by his plunder of some diminutive village.  He delighted in her cries of excitement at his expert exploitation of his power over her body, which motivated him to repeat his rough treatment of her until tears of pain dampened her cheeks and pleading pants burst from her mouth.  Sated and spent, he threw himself back onto the bed and patted her arm in an apathetic gesture of false sympathy as he purred, “Come now, my dove.  Do not tell me that you have become fragile after all these years?”

“No, my love,” Maria said with a pleasing smile.  “I only wish that I could stop being your wife’s maid and finally become your wife.”

“Patience, my love,” he said as he scooped her into his arms and kissed her sweaty black hair.  “It is only a matter of time before she has weaned the boy and we will be rid of her for good.”

Maria lifted her body above his and smiled a devilish smile as she divulged, “I have a plan.”

Diego, impressed at her initiative to hasten their dilemma’s demise, cocked his head and listened intently to her conception to make it so.  With increasing approval and awe at the woman’s craftiness, he wondered inwardly if it really would work.  But, yes, he told himself as he stroked her hair with his fingertips.  He would perfect her plot and with her help, he would finally have what he had worked for from the moment that he had set foot on the grass at Robin’s Glen. 

Abruptly, and with considerable protest by Maria, he pushed her aside and strode to the desk.  Lighting a match and touching it to the wick of a lamp, he blew out the match and threw it on the floor.  Then, he slid open the drawer of the desk and retrieved a stack of letters that he had kept under lock and key for many years, until the day when he decided to see if the words on these pages were indeed true.  Scanning the penned declarations, he found the phrase that he sought.  ‘Treasures beyond imagination’ had been underlined by Diego’s pen long ago and now the words leapt from the paper in a bright promise that what was written on the page before him would soon be his.  Treasures that had been hidden within the caves of long-abandoned mines on the grounds of the plantation that his son would soon inherit were waiting for him to accept them.  Treasure whose location was indicated on a withered map that he now held gingerly in his hand lay safely in the darkness of Georgia’s fissures, having been placed there by a band of Southern sympathizers in hopes that this treasure would offer some assistance to the South’s hopeless cause.  But, the war ended before these collaborators could retrieve their booty and offer it to their benefactor.

And, now, with the untimely death of one of the heirs to the plantation and having dominion over her son and being the father of that sole heir, Diego was certain that his fortune awaited him in the catacombs beneath the peach orchard which covered a hill just a few steps away from the mansion. 

Perhaps Maria’s proposal would expedite his effort to rid himself of his wife, he thought as he carefully placed the papers back into the drawer and rejoined his mistress in the bed.  With a sound kiss upon her lips, he rolled with her and then lay on his back and held her to his chest.  Thankful for her companionship as well as her assistance in carrying out their plan, he pulled her to him for a deep and passionate kiss.  In his mind, he put aside the letters and the map that he had purchased from a servant at Robin’s Glen who had been fired for stealing but who had gotten away with the papers that he had stolen, along with the tiny chest that bore them, from the attic while foraging for forgotten possessions that the family had stored there long ago.

He fell asleep dreaming of his riches while he held tightly to the one person whom he felt would forever be his mate.  This comely woman, who he had brought to his home when she was only thirteen, and who had won his heart the moment that she had flashed her dark brown eyes at him, made him feel complete and fulfilled in every sense of the word.  This delightful creature whose devious mind mirrored his own in so many ways, gave him the incentive to carry out the deed at hand and make her his partner in prosperity as well as in bed.  And when they secure their treasure and buy the very land that he will soon govern, they will be the most admired couple in all of Mexico.

Chapter Seven

A tiny shred of sunlight peeked through the draperies that shielded Savannah’s room from the heat that battered the large adobe house.  Her footsteps echoed off the bare walls as she paced the tile floor.  Her husband had sent word through her maid that he wanted to speak to her.  He was coming to her after his morning ride and he expected her to receive him as soon as he returned.  He was angry with her, that she knew by the urgency in Maria’s voice.  She knew that she had been inhospitable to their guest but the man deserved it the way he was flirting with her in front of her husband. 

She was angry at Diego, too.  Angry that he had ignored his friend’s actions, angry that he had treated her so cruelly lately, angry at his damn audacity to act as if he was a Spanish dignitary when a pirate, a thief and a murderer were all he really was.

She nervously bit her bottom lip, then a fingernail as she paced, her anger at him feeding upon itself.  She pulled back the velvet drape and the sunlight blasted into the room, causing her to repel backward and replace the curtain.  When she turned around, he was looming in the doorway, his face red from both anger and a furious workout on his horse.  His silk shirt plastered itself to his chest and back from the sweat that poured out of his body.  He gripped the quirt tightly in his fist until his knuckles turned a ghastly white.