The Spanish Outlaw (22 page)

It took only a few moments before her memory returned because soon her gaze clouded over with hurt and anger. She glanced around the room and her smile turned into a scowl.
“Where are we?” She pushed away and sat up on her elbows. “We are still in my mother’s room?”

“
Sí.
”

“Where is my...Eleanor?”

“She slept in another room.”

Vivian
cringed, then quickly hopped off the bed. Swiping her hands up and down her arms, she shivered. “I can’t believe I slept in
her
bed, knowing she’s done...
those
things on this very mattress.”

Anton rolled to the side of the bed then stood. He stretched his cramped arms and legs before walking toward
Vivian. “
Querida,
let me tell you something I am certain you do not understand about brothels.” When he reached her, he cupped her chin, and her eyes met with his. “Your mother is a Madame, which means she does not sleep with men for money any longer.”

Vivian
’s forehead creased. “Are you certain?”

He shrugged and pulled away. “From what I have seen from other
brothels, that is the way it works. By the time a woman makes it to Madame, she does not need to make a living in this way. This is now her business, and she runs it like an owner of an establishment would. Most Madame’s I have met are very professional.”

Vivian
grumbled, turned away, and stormed to the window. “It doesn’t matter how professional my mother is. The fact remains, she is still a whore.”

Anton released a heavy sigh.
Vivian hurt, and he knew not how to help. It was understandable she would be so upset over the news of her mother’s profession. He only hoped Vivian would soon soften her heart and find room to forgive.

He had known several whores in the past few years, and they lived a very hard life. Women did not choose this, they were forced into it. If only he could help
Vivian see this. But, now was not the time, and he couldn’t push. Her wounds were still too fresh.

Ru
bbing the sleep out of his eyes, he stepped to the small washbasin on the oak drawers. Water had been added to the pitcher, probably when they were still asleep, so he poured a generous amount in the basin and splashed the cool liquid on his face. Washing his hair was important, but that might have to be put off for a while. He needed a bath, but that too, would have to wait, at least until after he talked with Eleanor about their room and board.

He didn’t know how staying at a brothe
l could be that safe. True, most men who came here were not looking for people on the run—Juanito’s men or not—so Anton might be safe for a few days or even a week. Either way, he’d keep a sharp eye on the men who frequented the brothel.

As he scrubbed his hands over his two-day old beard, he looked in the mirror.
Time to change appearances, again. While they stayed at the brothel, he couldn’t wear his fancy clothes or dress like he wanted. Instead, looking like a peasant might work better. So, as much as Vivian loved his clean-shave the other day, he would have to grow out his beard and have the scruffy look.

He glanced over his shoulder at her. She would have to change, too. He didn’t want her in a boy’s disguise nor did he want her dressing like a whore and having men think she’d give them
her favors. That might cause a brawl, with Anton doing the punching. She would have to be a peasant just as he would.

It was better that way. They’d both be able to get out of the house and walk around in peace, as long as he made certain his uncle’s men did not spot them.
Didn’t need others to become curious, either.

In a couple of days, he had to search out his
niňera
, Lucinda. Now that he knew Juanito’s men were looking for him, he had to stay low and out of sight. Anton prayed they didn’t find Lucinda first. Then again, not many people knew about her.

Soft hands touched his back and caressed up to his shoulders. Smiling, he turned and looked at
Vivian. Sadness still marred her beauty, which made his heart wrench.

“Anton? I would rather not speak to my mother right now, but I fear my stomach is eating a hole through my backbone. Would you be so kind as to get us some breakfast?”

He cupped her face and kissed her sweet lips briefly. “
Sí,
my love. I, too, find myself very hungry. I will wander downstairs to the kitchen to see what I can throw together.”

Her eyes widened. “You are going to
make
breakfast?”

“
Sí
. I am not afraid of cooking.”

She cuddled her face against his hand. “You continue to amaze me.”

“Good. I hope I will never stop.”

As he made his way downstairs toward the kitchen, the house remained quiet. As it should be since everyone would be sleeping off their wild nights and spirits and passion. Not too long ago, he’d been one of these men who’d
visited brothels much too often. Never again. Now he wanted more out of life. He wanted Vivian to be his wife and bear their children. He wanted to share their lives together. Forever.

He entered the kitchen to the heavenly aroma of scones and eggs. Eleanor stood by the oven stirring a spoon in a pan. Her shoulders slumped, and the wilted expression on her face tor
e at his heart. Because he’d known whores and he’d seen the way they lived, he could sympathize with them. If only Vivian would forgive her mother and mend the ties.

But it wasn’t up to him. Although he wanted nothing more than to take the pain away,
Vivian had to deal with this on her own.

The floor squeaked, and Eleanor swung around, her eyes wid
e. Then she relaxed and smiled.

“Good morning. Are you and
Vivian hungry?”

“That is why I am here.”

“Let me prepare your plates. I’m afraid my cook has come down with a cold, so I’m helping her.”

“No, Mrs.
Wentworth. You do not have to wait on me.”

“Anton,” she said as her smiled disappeared. “Please call me Eleanor. I haven’t been called Mrs.
Wentworth since...” Her eyes misted with tears. “For quite some time.”

“As you wish.”

She fixed the plates of food. Silence only lasted a few minutes then she cleared her throat. “Did you and Vivian sleep well last night?”

“
Sí.
Your hospitality has been most generous.”

She turned with two plates in her hands. “I’m grateful you think so, although my daughter may have a different opinion.”

“True.”

Eleanor handed him the plates, then shrugged. “I’m very happy you let me talk with her, though. Now she knows the truth.”

“I am very sorry for what happened. I know Vivian was hurt terribly, and I pray she forgives you soon. I know what it is like to carry a grudge for a long time. My mother did that with my father, and it kept them apart for almost fifteen years.”

She smiled and touched his arm. “You are good for my daughter. I can tell she loves you very much.”

His heart melted. “I love your daughter with all my heart. I will try to make her happy.”

“You will.” She nodded.

“Eleanor, we will need clothes for our new disguises. Both Vivian and I will need to dress as servants. Can you get these clothes for us?”

“Yes. I’ll get them right away.”

“
Gracias
.
”

“And, feel free to take a walk around the estate. It is very secluded, and there’s a pond out back a ways. I must say it’s very lovely.”

He nodded, then turned and carried the plates of food back to the room.

Neither he nor
Vivian said anything while they ate, but through her tender smiles and twinkling eyes, he knew she loved him. Before they had finished eating, Eleanor brought up their clothes. Vivian stared at her plate, refusing to even look at her mother, so Anton thanked the other woman and closed the door as she left.

He’d have to take
Vivian with him to find his
niňera
. Juanito knew Anton was close. Soon it would be a battle of wits between them, and Anton prayed he would turn out the winner.

Without exchanging words, they both dressed in their new disguises.
Vivian used combs from her mother’s vanity table to fix her hair. He shook his head. Vivian was definitely not supposed to be a servant. She was too graceful, and had the natural beauty that spoke of a higher position for her. She’d look well on his arm as his wife.

As he finished buttoning his shirt, his gaze fell on the cupboard where the washbasin sat, and next to it, a bar of soap. He needed a bath, as did
Vivian, but he didn’t want to stay in this room another minute. Taking a walk would do them both good.

Suddenly, he
recalled hearing one of the servants talking about the secluded pond out back. He grinned. Perfect!

“Oh, dear.”

Vivian’s worried voice had him swinging his gaze to her. She stood with her arms folded across her chest, her head tilted as she looked at him through narrowed eyes.

“What is on your mind, Anton?”

“What do you mean?”

“You have a grin stretching across your mouth, which tells me something is cooking in that brain of yours that’s not good.”

He swaggered to her and gathered her in his arms. “And why would it not be good? What if I tell you it is indeed, very good?”

She toyed with the top button of his shirt. “Well, don’t keep me in suspense. Tell me what it is.”

He shook his head. “I’ll do one better.”

He stepped back and took her hand, pulling her toward the door. As he passed the basin, he grabbed the bar of soap. She didn’t ask what he had in mind, but followed him down the hallway, down the stairs, and outside. It was his goal to take
Vivian’s mind off her mother, and he’d do anything to accomplish that.

Chapter Sixteen

After Anton took them to the watering hole and allowed Vivian to bathe while he gave her some privacy—and she returned the favor for him—he walked with her hand in hand through the glade of trees. Being with him like this filled her with love, and she realized she wanted this always and forever.

“What
shall we do now?” she asked.

“I want to
find
mí niňera
.” He squeezed her hand. “I know my uncle’s men are watching for me, but I will not let them take me—or you. I will protect you.”

The darkness of his gaze and softness of his expression told her he was telling the truth. “I believe you.”

His brows crossed in confusion. “You do? When did that change?”

She bumped her arm against his.
“I see how utterly foolish I’ve been since meeting you, and I’m regretting not trusting you from the start. Anton, you’ve never lied to me, and I see that now. Actually, I’ve known for a while, but my stubbornness argued with my heart.”

He nodded, bent his head, and kissed her lips briefly. “My heart grows warm from your words. I have never lied to you, and I never will.”

“So tell me, do you have a title, like Your Grace or King?”

He laughed
loudly. “No. You may call me Anton. Besides, I enjoy hearing my Christian name roll from your lips. It has always been like music to my ears.”

“
That’s because I say it with love.”

He
stopped them, took her in his arms and covered her mouth for another passionate kiss, but soon he pulled away and continued on their walk.

“Tell me about your nanny,” she encouraged.

When he talked about the older woman, he held so much emotion in his voice. Vivian could feel the love he had for the older woman. Regret for not having a mother figure in her own life stabbed at her heart again.

How long had she waited for her mother to return when she was a child? She’d lost count. Day after day, week after week, and then months blended together, but the heartache never disappeared. Her father had never remarried, and now
Vivian wondered why. Could he have longed for his wayward wife as she had longed for her mother?

Life wasn’t fair. How could her mother have been a whore...who still worked as a whore? Yet, from what she’d seen so far, her mother did still love her. Why else would Eleanor try to protect her and Anton?

“I do not think
mí niňera
will remember me.”

Anton’s voice brought her out of dark and confusing thoughts. She glanced at him. His smile had disappeared.

“It has been many years since she saw me,” he finished.

Vivian
patted his arm. “We shall make her remember. Do you resemble your mother or your father?”

“Most people say I take after
mí padre
, but
mí madre
told me once I have a lot of her traits.”

“Then I’m quite certain your nanny will remember. From the stories you’ve told, it sounds like the two of you had been very close. I’m certain she hasn’t forgotten.”

His jaw hardened. “I pray my uncle has not found her first. If he knew...” He took a deep breath. “She may be dead.”

Her heart knocked against her chest. She prayed for the nanny’s safety, too.
“How much farther?”

“We are nearly there. I think perhaps another ten minutes at the most.” He glanced down at her feet. “Why? Are you tired of walking?”

“Don’t be silly. I’ll be fine as long as I’m by your side.”

He grinned and winked. “You still think I am your protector?”

“No, I don’t think. I
know
.”

* * * *

Anton’s
niňera
was within miles...unless she moved residence since he’d seen her last. The small town where he’d been raised as a young boy hadn’t changed much. The church stood erect, and still needed a good painting. The haciendas were as rickety as he remembered—perhaps even more now. And the cantina was still packed.

Many people looked at him and
Vivian as they walked through the street, but nobody acknowledged with a wave or nod of greeting. This was their way. They had always kept to themselves. Besides that, he didn’t want to draw any undue attention.

He turned down a side street,
Vivian followed close beside him. Although he wanted to hold her hand to openly proclaim his love, everybody needed to see them as servants...to keep suspicion away.

From up the street, a small adobe
hacienda
grabbed his attention. The familiar fence, the same shutters, and the crooked windows made his chest swell.

Home.
When his mother took them from Italy and returned to Spain to live, they stayed here.

Several children played a game in front of the house, laughing as they ran after each other. Memories tugged at his heart. Life had been good while he and his
madre
lived here. At times it had been better to be poor than after they moved back with his padre and had all the money they could ever hope for.

When Anton reached the gate, the children stopped. He smiled. “Does Lucinda still live here?” he asked in Spanish.

A few of the children exchanged glances, then met his gaze again.

“
Sí.
”

He breathed a deep sigh.
Thank the good Lord
. “May I speak with her?”

A boy, who looked to be the oldest, stepped forward. “Who are you?”

“I am a friend of Lucinda’s. She used to be my
niňera.
”

All the children’s eyes grew wide. One little girl gasped. This was not the reaction Anton had expected.

The boy stepped closer. “What is your name?”

“Antonio
Romero.”

Gasps circled the group of children, and some lost coloring in their face.

Anton gulped as ice ran through his veins. Obviously, his uncle had visited his
niňera
first. “Is she here? It is most important I speak with her.”

“She does not want to talk to you,” snapped a girl who couldn’t have been much younger than the boy.

Anton scrunched his forehead. “What do you mean? She was my
niňera.
I loved her like a mother.”

The boy turned to the children and whispered something, then they scattered, running in all directions. Anton’s heart clenched. Something was not right.

He cleared his throat. “May I see her, please? It is most important.”

The boy shook his head. “You are not wanted here.”

Anger surged through Anton. It wasn’t in his nature to throttle a child, but he was most tempted to turn this one over his knee and show him some manners. Squaring his shoulders, Anton walked to the gate and opened it. “Forgive me, but I insist on speaking with an adult.”

The boy ran to him and yanked on his jacket. “Please,
Señor
Romero,” he whispered in broken English. “If she talks to you, she will die.”

Beside Anton,
Vivian sucked in a quick breath. Anton’s heart hammered. “Why will she die?”

“Because that mean man will kill her.”

Anton didn’t need to ask whom the child spoke of. This had Uncle Juanito’s signature all over it. Squatting to the boy’s level, Anton lowered his voice. “Is that man watching now?”

“No, but he knows everything.”

Anton nodded. “What if you give Lucinda a message for me? Tell her I need to speak with her. Tell her I will return after dark and go to the back door.”

Tears welled in the boy’s eyes. “Will that man
kill her?”

Anton tousled the boy’s hair as he stood. “No. I will not let her die. I promise.”

A weak smile crossed the lad’s mouth. “Then I will tell her what you said.”

Giving the boy a nod, Anton turned and walked away from the
hacienda
with Vivian by his side.

Vivian
tugged on his sleeve. “Do you think Lucinda is safe?”

“For those eyes watching, we will leave town, but after dark we will sneak back. I will not let my uncle’s men touch her,” he ground out. “
That kind, selfless woman has done nothing but befriend me and my mother, and treat us like family.”

He glanced at
Vivian, whose expression twisted as pain touched her face while she kept her eyes on the road.

“What worries you?” Anton asked.

Vivian blinked and shook her head, turning her attention to Anton. “Nothing.”

“Something has.”

“I’m worried about all of this. What if Juanito has taken everything? What if you cannot prove your identity?”

“I have the ring, remember?”

“Yes, but...what if the King of Spain wants more?”

“I know not what will happen. All I know is I must stop my uncle.”

“I’ll never forget the fear in that boy’s eyes,” Vivian whispered.

Anton’s heart wrenched. He stopped and turned toward
Vivian. “
Sí
, Juanito is very powerful. If you fear for your life, then perhaps it is best I leave you with your mother and come back to meet Lucinda by myself.”

Vivian
clung to his arm. “Don’t say such things. We will be stronger if we stay together. One person alone cannot fight your uncle.”

Pain weighed on his chest, but he smiled through the confusion. He wanted to be strong for her.
But he also feared for his life, which in turn put hers in danger as well.

He lifted his hand to stroke her cheek, but remembering their disguise, he dropped his hand by his side. “
Vivian, you are a very stubborn woman. But we are in danger. If you remain by my side, there is that chance—”

“
Shhh...” She stepped closer. “I will not leave you, Anton. Wherever you go, I shall follow. You protect me, and I shall protect you.”

His heart warmed. The urge to take her in his arms and kiss those sweet lips was strong, but he fought it. They couldn’t be seen embracing.
Juanito would certainly see through her disguise. “Come. Let us leave and return after dark. Perhaps we can compile a plan in the meantime.”

Vivian
walked close beside him, her arm occasionally bumping into his. He missed breathing in her exhilarating scent of jasmine and burying his face in the tender curve of her neck. Holding her made him feel like a man. It completed him. He’d move heaven and earth if he must, but his uncle would not harm a hair on her body.

They walked back to the
brothel to wait. He really didn’t want to take her with him, mainly because he worried Lucinda wouldn’t want to see him if someone she didn’t know came along. He couldn’t take that chance. She was his only hope right now. He needed her badly.