Counterfeit Bride (18 page)

Read Counterfeit Bride Online

Authors: Sara Craven

He picked her up, and dropped her on to the bed, joining her there immediately, almost casually unfastening his own clothes as he did so.

'Oh God---no!' Her voice broke.  'Not like this please! Not like this.'

'You find my attentions lack finesse, señora?' Luis asked with savage mockery. 'When you deny a starving man food, you must expect him to snatch at crumbs.'

His mouth burned on her uncovered breasts, and fear and misery notwithstanding, she felt her body shiver with pleasure. In spite of everything, he was who he was, and her starved senses knew it. and hungered in their turn.

'Show me what he has taught you.' His voice was relentless. His hands moved on her mercilessly, exploring every inch. 'Does he do this to you--and this?'

'No,' she moaned. The excitement he was engendering in her was almost intolerable in spite of his cruelty, and her body twisted restlessly against his, arching involuntarily to meet him when the moment came.

She was transfixed by pain. She had never dreamed anything could hurt so much, and a brief cry escaped her before she sank her teeth into the softness of her inner tip so deeply that she could taste blood in her mouth. Her whole body tautened instinctively, rejecting the starkness of the invasion she had been subjected to, and a tear escaped her closed lids and trickled scaldingly down the curve of her cheek.

Above her Luis was suddenly motionless, and she could only be thankful, because if he moved, if he sought to further his possession of her, she thought she might faint.

She felt his hands cup her face, smoothing back the dishevelled hair, and her eyes opened slowly and unwillingly. His face was only inches from hers, and in spite of the dim light in the cabin, she could see the horrified comprehension dawning in his eyes. Then with a long shaken groan, he rolled away from her, and lay with one arm flung across his face.

Nicola lay trembling, waiting for the ache in her body to subside. At last she sat up slowly, pulling the edges of her shirt across her breasts, and looking to see where the rest of her clothing lay tumbled on the floor where he had thrown it.

Luis said, 'Be still,' in a voice she barely recognised.

He lifted himself off the bed, re-fastening his own clothes with swift jerky movements. Then he fetched her clothes and brought them back to the bed. She put out a hand to take them from him, but he ignored it completely, dressing her as gently as if she had been a child. He fetched her discarded boots and fitted them on her feet, then wrapped her carefully in the blanket they had been lying on before he lifted her in his arms and carried her to the door.

Outside, the dark shape that was Malagueno lifted his head and whinnied softly.

Luis paused suddenly and looked down at her. He said hoarsely, 'Por Dios, Nicola—speak to me—say something!'

She said quietly, 'Pilar told me she would make me sorry I was born. She has succeeded beyond her wildest dreams.'

Lights seemed to be biasing all round the hacienda as they approached. As Luis lifted her down, Nicola whispered, 'I can walk,' but again he ignored this, and carried her into the hall, which seemed to be full of people, all of them talking and exclaiming at once. Nicola turned her face into Luis's shirt, thankful for the sheltering blanket.

She heard Dona Isabella's voice, high and wailing. 'Luis, where have you been? Pilar has gone—run away— eloped with that scoundrel, that outlaw Miguel Jurado! You must follow her—you must bring her back at once. The shame—the disgrace—ay de mi!'

Luis paused, one foot on the bottom stair, and said something brief, succinct and obscene in Spanish. Dona Isabella gave a gasp, turned purple and sagged back against the uncertain support of her maid, a gaunt woman, while Luis continued up the stairs leaving a mystified silence behind him.

He took Nicola to her room, and put her gently down on the stool in front of her dressing table.

'Shall I fetch Maria to you?'

'No—please.' The blanket was slipping, and she could see bruises appearing on her shoulders under her loosened shirt, and knew there would be other marks on her breasts and thighs. She bruised relatively easily, and his handling of her had not been gentle.

After a brief hesitation, Luis went into the bathroom and she heard the sound of running water. She let the blanket drop to the floor with a little shudder, then stripped off the shirt. She looked into the mirror and saw that Luis had returned and was standing behind her, looking at the marks on her body with an expression of such bleak anguish that she wanted to weep— not for herself, but for him.

The bath was half full of warm scented water and she relaxed into it gratefully. Luis had not accompanied her into the bathroom. He had asked instead what she wanted him to do with the clothes and blanket she had left on the floor, and she had said, 'Get rid of them— please.'

When she got out of the bath, he reappeared and stood waiting with a towel. He enveloped her in it, then took her hand and led her back to the bedroom, and the wide bed with its turned-back covers. He lifted her into the bed, unwrapped the towel and removed it, then drew the covers up over her body. His face was taut and very contained, and there was no expression in his eyes.

He said very quietly, 'Sleep well,' and made to turn away. Nicole put out a hand and gripped his sleeve.

'Luis, stay with me, por favor.'

He hesitated for so long she thought for one terrible moment he was going to refuse,, then he nodded curtly and sat down on the edge of the bed to remove his boots. Making no attempt to undress, he lay down beside her, but outside the covers, and his arm went round her, drawing her gently against him. She rested her head on his shoulder. There was no violence any more, she thought, no anger or fear, no-high emotion, or even particularly man and woman. Just two tired, unhappy people drawing close for comfort.

And she thought, 'I'm safe,' before she fell asleep.

She still felt safe the next morning when she awoke, her hand reaching to touch Luis for reassurance even before she opened her eyes.. But she was alone, and the space beside her was empty, and she was suddenly wide awake and sitting up in swift alarm.

Someone was watching her, and she turned and saw Carlota Garcia sitting beside the bed, looking soignee and beautiful in a black and white dress.

For a moment Nicola felt she must still be asleep and having another nightmare, then she realised it was all too real, and she dived at the covers, dragging them up to hide herself, her cheeks suddenly crimson.

Carlota Garcia smiled, her face pleasant and friendly. 'Buenos dias, señora. Luis asked me to sit with you. He did not wish you to wake alone.'

Nicola said stiffly, 'That was -considerate of him.' She tried to anchor the slipping sheet more firmly round her breasts.

Señora Garcia rose. 'Would you be more comfortable in a nightgown? Tell me where they are kept and I will fetch one for you.'

Unwillingly, Nicola directed her, and Carlota Garcia came back with a drift of palest yellow over her arm. She dropped it deftly over Nicola's head and turned tactfully away while she did the rest. Nicola prayed she would go, but instead she resumed her seat beside the bed.

She said, 'Dona Nicola.. I think someone has been repeating ancient gossip to you. I knew at the wedding that there was something wrong—you have honest eyes, pequena   so perhaps I may speak frankly to you?'

Nicola looked down at her folded hands. 'If you wish.'

'I do wish it.' Carlota Garcia paused. 'A long time ago, I was lonely and very miserable. My husband had died, and I had loved him. I found that to be a widow did not stop me also being a woman. Luis had been my husband's friend, my family's friend and mine too.' She paused again. 'And for a brief time, it is true, we were more than--just friends. It was good, and I do not regret it. I said I would be frank with you. But it is over, and has been so for longer than I care to remember. I have a full and happy life again, and Luis, I hope, is still my friend, but no more than that.'

'But he still visits you, señora,' Nicola said in a low voice. 'Can you deny that?'

'No-—but the visits he has made recently, the meetings we have attended together have had no personal motive. They have been prompted only by our mutual concern for my brother.'

'Your brother? I don't think I understand?'

Señora Garcia sighed. 'Did no one tell you, Dona Nicola, that Miguel Jurado is my brother? Luis has been using his influence to try and win him some kind of amnesty. The man he wounded has made a full recovery, praise God— -' she crossed herself —'so that the charges he may face are not so severe as they might have been.' Her eyes were full of sudden tears. 'Forgive me, but this is a great sadness to me. I always believed that Miguel would be a great man—a great lawyer, and instead he has chosen to live his life outside the law.'

'And Luis has been trying to help him?’

'Luis does not forget their past friendship, although he cannot condone what Miguel has done. And now of course he has even more reason to be angry with him.'

'Oh,' Nicola said slowly. 'Pilar.'

'Si--that is why I am here.' Señora Garcia sighed again. 'They arrived at my house last night, demanding that I should help them, but of course I refused. Miguel cannot take the responsibility of a wife, with all that he has to face. I said at once that they must return here, and Pilar became very agitated, and said she would never come back. I questioned her, naturally, but it was

Miguel who finally obtained the truth from her. She admitted everything —her dislike of you, her jealousy, her wish to punish Luis, and the terrible means of revenge that she took. She knew that you suspected her, and decided to lay a trap for you at the ejido. She stole your butterfly and left it in Ramon's room in case anything went wrong with her original plan. She could not guess, of course, that Ramon would break his collarbone, but it was a blessing that he did so, otherwise the repercussions might have been truly dreadful.'

She leaned forward and took Nicola's hand. 'Señora, I ask you to believe that if my brother had known anything of what she intended, he would have prevented it. He has been horrified by her conduct, but even so he does not think she is truly evil, just spoiled and misguided, and eaten with jealousy of anyone more happy than herself.'

Nicola winced inwardly. Did that really apply to her? Did she seem happy to others? Was it possible they didn't feel the inner tension in her?

She said, 'What are you suggesting, señora— that I should just overlook what she did?'

Carlota Garcia grimaced slightly. 'That is hardly possible. And Luis has declared that he will no longer harbour her under his roof—so I have invited her to stay with me. She can help with my correspondence and make herself useful in various ways. It will stop her thinking so much about herself, and later perhaps she can continue her education. This time, her mother's protests will go unheeded, I think.'

Nicola stared down at the butterflies on the coverlet. 'Was Luis—very angry with her?'

Señora Garcia shrugged. 'I would not have wished to face him. I do not know what he said to her, because they spoke in private, but afterwards she wept and wept. One could not see her without pitying her. And as for her mother, I do not think Dona Isabella will ever speak again,' she added with wry amusement. 'She is mortified to her soul by what Pilar has done.'

Nicola could only pity both mother and daughter. She had faced Luis' anger and contempt, and the memory hung over her like a shadow, in no way diminished by the almost austere consideration he had shown her on their return to La Mariposa. Her heart seemed to contract as she remembered it. He had performed the most intimate services for her, yet had displayed no more emotion than if she had been a- a piece of statuary he had been required to look after for a while. And this morning, she had not woken in his arms ...

She became aware that Señora Garcia was staring at her. her face concerned and slightly questioning. She said quickly, 'Perhaps I'd better get dressed, and see what I can do to restore peace.'

'I think it would be better if you remained where you are,' Carlota Garcia smiled faintly, 'There is a truce—-of sorts—and Pilar is packing the rest of her things. I will be leaving with her very soon now, and it would be kind of you, Dona Nicola, to permit her to leave without having to confront you in person.' She rose to her feet. 'And now I will go and tell Luis that you are awake.'

With another brief smile, she departed.

Nicola leaned back against her pillows, trying to assimilate everything she had been told. She should have been overjoyed by Carlota Garcia's assurances, but in the light of everything else that had happened, they seemed unimportant. The agony of jealousy she had experienced each time she had thought of them together was fading under the weight of this new uncertainty.

Her teeth worried her lower lip as she watched the door, waiting for it to open.

As he entered, she thought he looked as if he hadn't slept for a week, and an aching tenderness filled her. Last night he had comforted her, now she wanted to do the same for him— to open her arms to him, to offer her body as his pillow. As he came to stand by the bed, she looked up at him, her lips curving tentatively and shyly.

If he had returned her smile, she would have reached for him, but there was no answering warmth in his eyes or on his mouth. When he spoke, his voice was cool and formal.

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