Emerald Ecstasy (47 page)

In her whole life she'd never seen a more beautiful little girl. And the child was hers. But not hers. She hadn't expected Désirée not to remember her. She should have known the child wouldn't recognize her. After all she had been a little over a year old when she left. However, as Lianne gazed at the life she and Daniel had created, she didn't blame Désirée. She blamed Raoul for this new blow to her existence. His obsession had cost her more than she could have imagined.

“I'll never forgive him,” she whispered. “He has taken everything from me. Even the love of my own daughter.”

When she left the nursery and walked into her bedroom to lie in Raoul's arms, she knew that one day she'd even the score with Raoul. And when she did, he'd be very sorry he had ever desired her.

Carmen watched Lianne as she walked in the garden with Désirée, their hands entwined. The child had been with them for two weeks, and there seemed no hope that the little girl would ever take to Lianne as a child to its mother. However, today there appeared to be the first glimmer of acceptance of Lianne by Désirée.

For the past hour Lianne had sung French songs to Désirée and Carmen thought she'd go insane as Désirée insisted Lianne sing them over and over again. Still Lianne had an abundance of patience which Carmen admired. She didn't think she'd be so calm with a child, but then perhaps she was still a spoiled child herself in many ways.

She missed her own mother very much. Elena had been her comfort, her mainstay. Now she had no one. Lianne tried and she was very grateful to her and had grown to care for her. However, Lianne couldn't take her mother's place.

Then there was Diego. She didn't even think very much about him. It was almost as if he had never existed, but he had. The bruises may have healed upon her flesh, but the pain within her soul hadn't. Diego had been an animal.

“Señora Gonzalez.”

She turned to find Felix standing behind her. His head blocked the morning sun, and he smiled broadly at her. For the first time she noticed that Felix was no longer thin, but had filled out very nicely. His shoulders were broader, his arms muscular, apparently from the hard work in the mine. Carmen blushed as the thought of a naked Felix came to mind. To cover up her own embarrassment, she said rather harshly, “What is it?”

“You wished me to remind you when it was eleven o'clock, señora. You wanted to ride before lunch.”

Carmen looked toward the garden where Lianne entertained her child, then at the book beside her on the terrace chair. She really was a little bored and would welcome the ride, but the sun was hot.

“I don't know, Felix. I burn easily.”

“Forget the sun. You must live life while you can.”

That made a great deal of sense to her. She remembered her mother. Elena had always done what was proper, avoided risk. And what had happened to her? She had died suddenly. Carmen didn't want to die until she had lived a bit, and the marriage to Diego had been like an early death. But she was alive!

“
Gracias
, Felix. I shall ride today.”

“
Bueno
, señora. May I accompany you? I've heard there are banditti in the hills.”

“You would protect me?” She asked this in a joking way, but her heart soared when he answered.

“With my life.”

She knew he meant this. No one had ever said such a thing to her in her life. She didn't know how to reply to this and couldn't look him in the eyes. “I'll change and meet you at the stables,” she said and hurried into the house.

Within half an hour Carmen's red roan cantered beside Felix who rode on a chestnut mare. They trotted past the mine then toward the distant hillside. Small golden marigolds peeked through the lush green grass of the countryside, and Carmen breathed deeply of the sweet smelling air. She realized she hadn't felt such peace since before her mother died and thought it strange she should feel this way with Felix who, after all, was a
lepero
. However, she was coming to think of him more as a person worthy of her company. She found herself liking him because he rode in companionable silence.

While the horses grazed, Carmen joined Felix who sat on the grass.

“I remember one other time we did this,” she said, surprising herself.

Felix grinned. “
Sí
. The day I carried you from the carriage so you'd not muddy your gown. If I remember it was an especially ugly, black dress.”

Her mouth trembled. “I was mourning my mother.”

“I'm sorry. I had forgotten.”

Carmen controlled herself, and she gave him a bright smile. “No harm done.” After a few seconds, she sobered. “So much has happened since then.”

“Sí.”

“Was it very awful for you in the mines?” she asked him but knew she shouldn't have when she noticed his back stiffen.

“Sí.”

“I'm sorry my father sent you there. It was wrong of him. Lianne told me she said you wished to stay here after she took you from the mines. Why? Don't you wish your freedom, Felix?”

Felix looked at her, his eyes met hers. “I am free, señora. I'm not a slave. I chose to stay here.”

“I think you stayed because of Lianne. Are you in love with her? I mean you risked your life to help her escape my father.” Carmen sounded haughty though she didn't wish to. For some reason she disliked thinking that Felix might be in love with her stepmother.

“Is that what you think, señora?”

“
Si
, I do. You're in love with my father's wife.”

His eyes measured her for a moment, then Felix stood up. “I am in Dona Lianne's employ. I need not make an explanation to you.”

Felix's tone was so cold she chilled in the warm afternoon. She rose also, and in a huff she mounted her horse without help. Felix was impossible, she found herself thinking when she was later in her room, changing from her riding outfit. She hadn't even summoned Josephine to aid her. Thrashing about her wardrobe, she pulled out a bright red gown, embroidered with golden roses on the bodice and sleeves.

She recalled Felix's comment about the dress she had worn that day months ago—the dress he said was so ugly. Well, this gown was quite beautiful and as she dressed in it, she refused to admit to herself that she wanted to show Felix she could look nice, even pretty.

During her marriage to Diego, she purposely dressed in black and claimed it was to honor her poor mother. But now, she wished to prove a point to the
lepero
, as she called Felix in her mind.

When she finished and surveyed herself in the mirror, she gave a tiny smile. She looked quite nice, she decided. Her hair was ebony black and she took a rose from a vase, trimmed it, and placed it behind her ear. The bright red and gold of the dress livened her pale complexion and amber sparks danced within her dark eyes.

Twirling before the mirror, Carmen giggled. She stopped, dizzy and excited.

“Just let that
lepero
call me ugly now!” she cried in delight to her reflection.

Someone watched her. Lianne knew eyes were upon her but the garden was empty of everyone save herself and Désirée who slept in a ball beside her on the bench. She looked down at her child and smiled. Their play that morning had worn them both out, and Lianne was glad to see Maria padding through the arched doors to retrieve her charge.

Désirée mumbled but leaned limply against Maria's ample bosom when she was picked up and carried into the house to the nursery. Lianne smiled to herself to realize how well the morning had progressed. She felt certain that her daughter would accept her once again. They had played games, sung songs, and Désirée had even reached for Lianne's hand. But Lianne was content to wait for her child's love.

Getting up, she walked among the brilliant blooms and gently touched the blossoms. Raoul hadn't returned from the mines as yet, and she knew he had a great deal of paper work on his desk. She hoped he'd be late today. She didn't relish an afternoon tryst with him. He had given her her daughter back, and in his own formal, aloof way, was kind to the child. However, she doubted if she'd ever feel much genuine warmth for him. He had taken too much from her to be forgiven.

The glaring sun gleamed on the peach-colored peasant's blouse and skirt she wore. Perspiration gathered on her brow and between her breasts but evaporated as a chill coursed up her spine. Glancing around the garden, she still saw no one but knew someone watched her. As her gaze careened across the terrace to the mountains, she started. Someone did watch her! She had an unencumbered view of a man wearing a sombrero astride a horse.

Though he was a distance away, she recognized him as the man at the foot of the mountains who had watched the young girl dance for him—the man who had watched the de Lovis carriage with such interest the day Lianne arrived in Pachuca.

“What is he doing watching me like this?” Lianne asked herself. Annoyance etched itself upon her face, but uneasiness invaded her. She felt violated by his gaze upon her. However, she didn't move away or shield her face. She straightened and glared at him until she saw him nudge the horse along the sloping incline of the mountain. When he disappeared, she let out a long relieved sigh.

“Carmen doesn't show the proper respect for Diego. I shall talk with her about this. What will people think? She is still newly widowed, and she wears clothes so bright it appears she never cared for him.”

“Well, she didn't,” Lianne told Raoul and continued brushing her hair. “I see no reason why she must pretend she cared about him. Diego was monstrous to her.”

Raoul's eye flickered over the lush picture Lianne made as she sat before the dressing table, trailing the brush through the thick auburn tresses. The sheer nightdress did little to cover her lush curves. Desire grew within him. Never in his life had he been unable to quench his passion for a woman. Never had a woman lay in his arms and responded to him as Lianne did. But she didn't love him, and he knew this. He didn't know a woman could take part in sexual love and feel nothing for the man involved. Apparently they could, and he was learning quite a bit about women from her.

He discovered Lianne had a healthy appetite for lovemaking, and though this discovery pleased him, it disturbed him. What would he do if another man caught her eye? That was highly probable since she made no bones that she didn't love him, so he couldn't count on her faithfulness. Sending for her child had helped matters between them. She no longer looked at him in scorn or hatred. Though he had no inkling what she felt, she was truly Dona Lianne, his wife, the woman he wished to bear his children. He knew he had ensnared her, yet he wondered how tight the trap would hold. No matter how she felt about him, he must keep her.

Raoul cleared his throat. “Lianne, I think it's time you bore me a child.”

He watched her hand stop in mid-air. He even saw the whitening of her knuckles around the silver brush.

“I hadn't thought about having a child, Raoul. Désirée occupies my thoughts and my time.”

“Don't you wish to bear me an heir,
querida
?” His tone was smooth but tense.

“Of course,” Lianne replied and continued brushing her hair.

“
Bueno
. However, I wonder if you mean your words.”

“I do, but I haven't gotten pregnant since the miscarriage … Perhaps I'll never have any other children.”

“
Sí
, Lianne. You'll have mine.”

He rose from his reclining position on the bed and made his intentions clear. He wanted a son by her and would get one.

Felix finished polishing the silver harnesses which graced the necks of Raoul's stallions. The hour grew late, past midnight, he thought. Weariness overcame him, and he knew he'd soon have to retire. Señora Carmen was an early riser and would invade the peaceful stables early for her morning ride. He'd have to accompany her, because the threat of banditti grew worse.

He put the harnesses on a table and stopped when a slight noise caught his attention. Looking around the stable, lit only by a candle, he saw nothing.

“Probably mice,” he said aloud. After a few seconds, his thoughts drifted back to Carmen, and without realizing it, he smiled. In the past few weeks, she had been much nicer to him and he admitted he thought she was very pretty lately. She no longer dressed in black or somber colors, but she resembled a peacock in brilliant blues and reds. Even her hair was prettier now that she wore it down, cascading around her shoulders in dark waves.

The mental image of her pleased him, but he attempted to resist it. Carmen was the daughter of Raoul de Lovis, the man who had disgraced his sister and caused the deaths of his parents. He must never forget that. The feelings he possessed for Carmen had to be quelled, because he couldn't allow himself to care for her in any way. She was a grand lady, and he figured that soon Raoul would find her another husband to replace Diego. Someone whom Raoul would approve. No, he had to fight his feelings for Carmen. But that presented a problem, because each time she was near him, he wanted to kiss her. He wondered at her reaction if he ever did, and sweat broke out upon his brow. She'd probably swat him as if he were a fly and hurl nasty invectives at him. Still, he liked to think about kissing her and hoped she'd never learn that she was the reason he had stayed on the hacienda after Lianne took him from the mines.