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Authors: Valerie Wood

Tags: #Fiction, #Sagas, #Romance, #General, #Historical

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BOOK: Far From Home
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Edward cleared his throat. He had obviously made a grave blunder. ‘I beg your pardon,’ he apologized. ‘It is at a time like this I realize that I am a foreigner in another land.’

Rodriguez relaxed. ‘We are all foreigners, Mr Newmarch. And we do not always follow the ways of this country, though we obey its rules. Elena will have a Spanish wedding, even though she is not Spanish, but we shall observe the customs of
my
country,
my
family. When you are married, you may, if you so wish, follow your own desires or embrace the new life of an American.’

‘Two more days.’ Sofia chose to intercede. ‘That is all I need. I ’ave seen the priest. The seamstress knows what to do. We shall take a few days’ ’oliday in the country, Sancho, so that we are refreshed and ready.’

‘You have only just come back,’ Rodriguez grumbled. ‘But go if you must. I shall stay here. I have work to do.’

Rodriguez and Edward rode out the next day to see the new ship, which was lying further downriver waiting for restoration. ‘She has had a little damage in the storms, but nothing much,’ Rodriguez said. They stood on the levee and gazed at her. ‘The Mississippi is not deep enough for her. She has been towed here for repair. She needs new sails and I’ve ordered a four-bladed propeller to give her more speed.’

Edward had expected a paddle steamer such as the one which had brought him to New Orleans, but this was a big vessel capable of voyaging in any deep seas. ‘She’s a fine ship,’ he declared. ‘What do you intend to carry?’

‘Mormons!’ Rodriguez replied. ‘They hire a whole ship to carry only them. They sail from Liverpool or London to New York. They pay their fares and are no trouble. They pray constantly for their deliverance, which means that the ship will arrive safely back in harbour.’

He stood with his arms folded and watched as another ship, a paddle steamer, came upriver. ‘Then,’ he said, ‘they change ships and some come to New Orleans, as you did.’

‘And they use your other ships!’ Edward said.

‘One of them,’ Rodriguez agreed. ‘Not the one you used, but the other one. They prefer to have it to themselves so that they do not disturb anyone else with their praying.’ He nodded. ‘They are good well-meaning people,’ he commented. ‘Confident in their belief. But I regret to say that they are following the wrong religion!’

This man is immovable, Edward thought. He would not budge one inch on custom, religion or business matters if he thought he was right. God only knows what he would do if someone crossed him. I suspect he would not care too much if he found out about Elena and Zac once she was safely married, but if he found out about Sofia and me! Phew! Perhaps I should escape whilst I can! Pack my bags and go. He would never find me, not in this vast country.

But Sofia was waiting for them when they got back and announced that they could go to the country, that she had made all arrangements and could not do more for the moment. He succumbed to the fascination, the lure of her and the promise of fulfilment now that he was officially betrothed to Elena. The vows he had made to his wife on their wedding day meant no more to him now than they had when he had taken a mistress in England. And it escaped his reasoning that in going through a marriage with Elena, he would be breaking the law.

‘Meet me tonight at your doll’s house,’ he whispered to Sofia on the first evening back in the country. ‘You promised.’

‘I cannot,’ she hedged. ‘It is not the right time for me. I am of child-bearing age, you know!’

‘When?’ he said. ‘When?’

‘Soon, a few days only.’ She seemed anxious, her hands fluttering, her manner nervy. ‘Will you ride wiz Elena? She wants to show you the land where you will build your ’ouse.’

‘Will you come?’ He couldn’t bear not to be with her.

‘No.’ She gave a little sigh. ‘I ’ave a ’eadache. I must rest. It is the worry of so many things to do.’

Elena was waiting for him with a horse already saddled. He was rather perturbed to find Zac there too on a powerful stallion. ‘Is he afraid I might take advantage of you?’ he gibed.

‘Yes, I sink so,’ she said cheerfully. ‘I told him that you would not, but ’e did not believe me.’

Incredible, Edward thought moodily. That Zac should be so jealous. She’s the last woman that I would want to take to my bed.

They rode along the valley where they had had the
barbacoa
, then followed a track to the top of the grassy hill towards the tree line. From there they looked over acres of cotton and cane fields and in the distance could see the wide brown ribbon of the Mississippi.

‘Here would be the ranch ’ouse,’ Elena said and rode her horse in a wide arc. ‘There will be windows on all sides so that we can look out over the cotton fields. There,’ she pointed with her whip, ‘will be the stables for our ’orses. And here,’ she indicated a bank of trees, ‘Zac will have his ’ouse.’

Edward glanced at Zac who was sitting quite still, listening and looking. We’ll see about that, he thought. Zac needn’t think he’s going to be master just because he’s sleeping with Elena. Oh dear no! It will be
my
house,
my
land and, although I don’t mind turning a blind eye on occasions if they indulge in a little intrigue,
I’ll
make the rules, whether Elena likes it or not!

By the end of the third day he was bored. The weather was as warm as the month of June in England. He had enjoyed the luxury of lazing in the sunshine, though Sofia had laughed at him from beneath her parasol, saying that only Englishmen would do that, and he had relished being waited upon by servants who brought him cool drinks, hot spicy coffee, titbits to nibble and cigars to smoke. But now he was restless: his nearness to Sofia, breathing in her perfume, watching her lips as she spoke, filled him with an urgent desire.

‘I must take a walk,’ he said, getting up. ‘To stretch my legs.’ He held out his hand. ‘Come with me.’

‘It will soon be time for supper,’ she demurred.

‘They won’t start without us,’ he insisted. ‘Come.’

She smiled and gave him her hand to help her up from the cushioned cane chair. ‘Just a short walk, then,’ she agreed. ‘To the arbour.’

She grumbled, for the grass was wet. There had been torrential rain the night before, and although the day had been sunny a warm haze clung to the trees and the bowers, so that as they brushed past them they were showered with droplets of fine mist.

‘I am wet,’ she complained. ‘My shoes!’

‘Then I will carry you,’ he said, and before she could dissent he picked her up and carried her towards the orchard and the cabin.

‘No, Ed-ward, we must not! It is too dangerous,’ she protested.

‘It is not.’ He held her firmly. ‘You said that no-one ever came here.’

He pushed the door of the cabin wider with his foot and went inside. It was quite dark and smelt slightly damp and steamy, but somehow this increased his desire for her. He kicked the door closed and, placing her on the bed, unbuttoned his jacket. He knelt at the side of the bed. ‘I have been very patient, Sofia,’ he murmured. ‘You know that I have, and you did promise.’

She gazed at him and he saw uncertainty on her face. She bit her lips together. ‘I don’t know if it is right,’ she began. ‘If Sancho should find out.’

‘But you said,’ he began unfastening her gown, ‘you said that when I am married to Elena we can meet whenever Sancho is in New Orleans.’ He slipped her bodice off her shoulders, revealing her smooth pale breasts. He bent to kiss them. ‘And he is in New Orleans now.’

‘But,’ she objected breathlessly, ‘you are not yet married to Elena.’

‘But I will be.’ He gently pushed her down onto the pillow. ‘In no time at all, so why wait? I can’t wait, Sofia. I want you. Must have you. Now.’

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Though she fought him to begin with, her objections eventually gave way and she responded. ‘You are a good lover, Ed-ward,’ she whispered. ‘I did not expect it from an Eenglishman. You ’ave roused me as I ’aven’t been roused in a long time. Not since Brown,’ she admitted. ‘He was a good lover, though impatient.’

‘And Sancho?’ he asked. ‘You said that he’d rescued you from Brown!’

‘So he did. But ’e treats me always as a lady.’ She smiled seductively. ‘And now you know that I am not a lady.’

He nodded and heaved a sigh of satisfaction. She was not. She was a tigress. Once she had succumbed to his advances she had surprised him by her passion. It was as if it had been bottled up, waiting for someone to spring the cork, and she had taken his breath away.

‘Will you come back later?’ he asked. ‘Tonight when everyone is in bed? Please!’

She hesitated, then said, ‘Yes, all right. You must use the side door, but be careful, the night servants don’t sleep. They are on watch until sunrise.’

He crept downstairs at one o’clock as arranged, but found his way barred by a young black boy sitting by the door. ‘I can’t sleep,’ Edward said brusquely. ‘Let me out, please. I’m going for a walk.’

‘You want me come wid you, Meester Newmarch?’ the boy asked.

He can’t be more than twelve, Edward thought. How can he be on guard? Though I suppose he would be able to run fast to fetch help if there were intruders. ‘No,’ he said. ‘But don’t lock me out.’

He walked down through the arbour and into the orchard and wondered how Sofia could come out without being seen. He waited for a few minutes within the shadows of the cabin and then saw someone approaching. It was not the dainty form of Sofia, but the plodding figure of Elena.

‘What—! What are you doing here?’ Then he saw the young boy behind her.

‘Ssh!’ She put her finger to her lips and entered the cabin. ‘It is all right. The boy comes with me for protection. ’E thinks I come to meet you secretly. My mother will slip out of the door whilst he is ’ere wiz me.’

Edward was astonished and not a little alarmed. Why did Sofia tell her daughter that she had arranged to meet him? What on earth was she thinking of?

Elena waited ten minutes, sitting on the bed and breathing heavily. Then she stood up. ‘It is enough time I think for us to ’ave – what you call it? Coupled? Yes? The boy, ’e will remember. I go now. Then my mother comes.’

What’s happening? What game are they playing? He peered down the orchard towards the arbour as Elena and the boy returned to the house, then was suddenly startled by Sofia coming round the corner of the cabin.

‘We must not be found out,’ she whispered. ‘Elena will give the boy somesing to do, to keep ’im busy until we return.’

‘Sofia!’ he said, taking her in his arms. ‘There must be some other way without telling Elena.’

‘It is all right,’ she murmured. ‘I tell ’er that we only talk.’

‘Hah! I’m sure she’ll believe that!’ But he was distracted by her sensuous fingers exploring beneath his shirt and unfastening his buttons, and with a groan he sank onto the bed and pulled her on top of him.

‘Your wife?’ she said, moving her body slowly across his. ‘Was she good lover? Better than me?’

‘May? No!’ He ran his hands over her smooth skin, over her breasts and belly, and down to her frizzy bush. ‘She isn’t. Not like this.’

‘She was cold English woman? So you take a mistress, yes?’

‘Yes,’ he breathed, consumed with craving. ‘I did. She’s beautiful just like you.’

‘Why you not bring ’er wiz you?’ She slid off him so that he could come on top of her.

‘She wouldn’t come,’ he grunted. ‘Don’t talk. It’s past. Enjoy now.’

But she persisted as later they lay on the narrow bed with their arms entwined about each other. ‘And your wife, she know about your lover? But she not angry wiz you?’

‘Oh, yes.’ He laughed softly as he remembered. ‘She was angry all right. Furious!’

‘Even though she not want to make love wiz you herself? I not understand!’

‘It’s the way she has been brought up.’ He put his hands behind his head and considered. ‘She hadn’t been told what to expect, so I suppose she was shocked. And I suppose she might have been jealous of Ruby when she found out. She called her all kinds of names.’

‘Perhaps you should have tried ’arder wiz her. Though not everyone ’as this passion inside.’ She clutched at her breastbone in emphasis. ‘Sancho ’as not got it, except for business,’ she added.

‘Oh, May definitely hasn’t got any passion,’ he said thoughtlessly. ‘Not like you – or Ruby. She never will have. Not in a million years!’

She studied him in the half-light. ‘What you say? I sink your Eenglish is not right!’

‘What?’ He turned to her, smiling, but saw the concern on her face. ‘What do you mean?’

She half sat up, leaning on her elbow and staring at him. ‘You say, she
’as
not got any passion. You should say, she
’ad
not, yes?’

He was startled. What a fool to make such a mistake. ‘It – it was a slip of the tongue only,’ he said with a half-laugh.

‘No.’ She moved away from him. ‘It was not! You say also that it
ees
the way she ’as been brought up. And, she
isn’t
. It is, er—’ She struggled to find the right words. ‘The present! You speak of your wife as if she is alive. But she is dead, no? You say that you are in mourning.’

He saw perception dawning on her face and he knew that he could not deny it. Besides, his conscience churned, he had stated that his wife was dead. He had never given her a name. Could he now, after talking of May and naming her, could he coldly deny her existence? Am I so hard and calculating that I can do that?

‘Sofia!’ He reached out in an attempt to pacify her, but her brown eyes flashed with sparks of amber.

‘No,’ she snapped. ‘You tell me! Is your wife dead, or do you tell lie to me?’

‘She is not dead,’ he admitted. ‘She’s alive in England. I left her.’


Bastardo!
’ She slapped his face. ‘You Eenglish bastard. You trick me!’

‘Ow! Sofia! It wasn’t like that. I didn’t mean to trick you!’ His face smarted. ‘It just got out of hand.’

She curled her fingers into a claw and struck out again but he caught hold of her. ‘Listen to me!’

‘No,’ she screeched. ‘You listen to me. You promise to marry Elena but you are not a widower like you say!’

BOOK: Far From Home
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