Ecstasy's Promise (Historical Romance) (17 page)

"That will come in time," Edward encouraged her.

Victoria turned back to the man who was dancing.
When he had finished, she applauded him and cried:
"
Ole!
Ole!"
with the other voices. Edward watched her enthusiasm and smiled. He could tell his people
were trying to please Victoria and was gratified by it.
"Come, let us eat," he said. "There will be much more entertainment later." He led Victoria to the table where she found her grandmother already seated. "I am having such a wonderful time," Victoria told her. Then she smiled up at Edward. "Thank you for inviting me, Mr. Hanover."

"I am pleased that you are enjoying yourself. Miss
Farraday, I would like you to meet Juanita, my housekeeper. She is the real power behind Rio del Lobo."

Victoria smiled at the Mexican woman, and told
her she was glad to meet her. "I am also glad to meet
you,
Senorita
Farraday," the friendly Mexican woman told her.  Juanita watched Edward with
Victoria. There will soon be a mistress at Rio del Lobo, she thought happily.

Victoria found the food different from any she had tasted before. It was spicy and rich, but very good. She took a bite into a green pepper. It burned her mouth so badly that her eyes watered.

"I should have warned you," Edward said, apologizing; "some of the food is very hot." He got a glass of milk and told Victoria it was the only thing that would help. She drank it down, but even that did not help much.

"How can anyone eat something that burns so painfully?" she asked.

"I will show you," Edward answered. He called to a child who stood nearby. "Colita, come here." He picked up one of the green peppers and offered it to the child.

"No, you must not let her eat that," Victoria protested.

The child popped the green pepper into her mouth and reached for another, glad to be the center of attention.

"That is amazing," Victoria said, shaking her head in disbelief.

After they had eaten, the children were ushered off to bed, and the entertainment started up again. The women gathered on the patio, tapping their feet rapidly as they waved colorful scarves about them.

"This is a dance where the women choose their partners," Edward told Victoria. They were interrupted by a pretty Mexican woman who placed her scarf about Edward's shoulder.

"Oh, no," he told her, shaking his head.

"Patron,
dance!" the crowd chanted.

He shrugged his shoulders, and looked at Victoria. "I guess I am persuaded, if you will excuse me, Miss Farraday."

Edward joined the woman. Victoria watched as he danced beside his partner. His hands were clasped behind his back and his boots tapped out the rhythm of the music. Victoria's heart seemed to be keeping time with the music as Edward danced. He was magnificent! She was unable to tear her eyes away. She felt her own body begin to sway in time to the music.

Victoria clasped her hands tightly in her lap. What was happening to her? She felt excitement stir within her body. She had such a yearning to feel that beautiful, graceful body pressed close to hers. Victoria blushed at her daring thoughts.

The music seemed to grow louder; her eyes locked with Edward's.

His dark eyes seemed to probe the very depths of her soul. Did he know what she was feeling? Did he feel it, too?

When she thought she could stand it no longer, the music stopped.

The crowd went wild.
"Ole! Ole! Patron,"
they shouted.

Edward bowed to his partner and returned to Victoria who was trying desperately to recover her composure. She hoped he would not notice how wildly her heart was beating. She avoided his eyes. "You dance very well, Mr. Hanover."

He smiled. "It has been some time since I have attempted it. Would you like me to teach you the dance?"

"Oh, no," she said rising quickly to her feet. "I am perfectly content to watch."

Mammaw and Juanita joined them. "Victoria, are you having a good time?" her grandmother asked.

"Yes, I am," Victoria told her enthusiastically.

"Mammaw, would you mind if I showed your granddaughter about the gardens?" Edward asked. Mammaw's eyes locked with Edward's, and she sent him a silent message. "You are welcome to come, too," he told her, smiling.

"No, you two run along," she said. "Make sure you show Victoria the fountain."

The mariachis noticed their
patron
walk away with the beautiful
senorita,
and started singing a Mexican love song.

"What are these flowers?" Victoria asked as she paused beside a tree with big red flowers. "The blooms are gigantic, and they smell lovely."

"I do not know the name," Edward said, "though I am sure they are catalogued. I will have my bookkeeper look it up and will let you know." He reached over her head, pulled one of the blooms, and held it out to her. His arm brushed her cheek, and Victoria caught her breath. She took the flower from him and breathed in the pleasant fragrance.

"I notice that your
vaqueros
call you
patron.
What does it mean?" Victoria asked as they continued down the path.

He lifted a tree branch so she could pass under it. "It is difficult to translate into English," Edward told her. "It means father, protector, chief. They are my responsibility. I look after and protect them, and in return, they work for me and give me their loyalty."

"If one of them wanted to leave, would he be allowed to?"

"Of course," Edward told her. "They are not bound to me."

Victoria felt his hand about her waist as he guided her across a small bridge. She stopped in the middle of it and looked down at the water below. "I have been doing a lot of soul-searching lately."

Edward smiled down at her. "Such a serious condition for one so young."

She did not reply for a moment, and then she said: "I was once in a Yankee camp and I saw many slaves who had been freed. They were elated. One old man with tears in his eyes was praising God for sending him a deliverer. He kept repeating over and over, 'We have been freed from bondage.' It somehow made me think of Moses leading the children of Israel out of Egypt. I was very disturbed by it."

Edward looked at her quickly. He was more certain than ever that Victoria and Ray Courtney's mystery lady were one and the same. He waited for her to continue.

"I never have given much thought to slavery," she said. "I grew up accepting it as a way of life. But lately, I have begun to question many things."

"You are very wise for one so young, Miss Farraday."

"Why do you keep insisting that I am so young?" Victoria asked, irritated.

"You do not like me to remind you of your tender years
?”

She gave him a defiant look. "If it had not been for the war, I would have been a wife and perhaps even a mother by now. Many of my friends already have a family."

Edward smiled. "Perhaps I was mistaken."

Victoria had the feeling he was teasing her.

"Tell me more about the Yankee camp," Edward urged her, as he leaned against the guardrail of the bridge.

"One thing that amused me at first was the fact that the Yankees would be responsible for the care and feeding of so many camp followers, until Bodine reminded me later, that the only means of food had to come from the Georgia countryside."

"Bodine was with you in the camp?"

"No, I was alone," Victoria said.

Edward thought it would not be wise to press her further. "Tell me about your soul-searching, Miss Farraday."

Victoria turned to him. "Well, take for instance, the loyalty given you by your
vaqueros.
I never saw any of my father's salves show him that kind of respect."

"Maybe you are turning into a Yankee, Miss Farraday," Edward told her lightly.

Victoria turned to him fiercely. "Do not even think that!" Then she changed the subject. "What is the source of the water that runs under the bridge?"

"Come," he said, "I will show you."

They passed over the bridge and walked up a pathway paved with red bricks. There were torches burning at different intervals, giving the garden a warm glow. "How extensive are your gardens?" Victoria asked.

"Two acres, I believe," Edward told her.

She heard the sound of running water. They rounded a tall hedge, and Victoria saw a fountain. It was in the form of a Greek goddess, which stood about eight feet tall. The source of water came from a pitcher which she held in her hand. Victoria stood and stared up at the lovely statue. "I have run out of adjectives to describe your lovely home, Mr. Hanover," she said breathlessly. He drew in his breath as he stared down at her. The glow of the torches gave her bare shoulders a transparent look.

"Who laid out the gardens?" Victoria wanted to know.

"My father," Edward told her. "It is a replica of the garden of his boyhood home in England."

Victoria nodded. "I have seen such gardens in England."

"You have been to England?" Edward asked.

"Yes, my father took me one summer. So," she said, "your father was English, and your mother was Spanish."

"That is correct," Edward answered. "It is quite a baffling combination, Miss Farraday. The part of me that is my father is cool and logical, while my mother's Spanish blood is wild and unpredictable."

Victoria looked at him with a serious frown on her face. "I believe your mother's side has the upper hand most of the time, Mr. Hanover."

Edward laughed deeply. "I suspect you may be right." He reached out his hand and touched her face softly. "At the moment my Spanish blood is telling me how beautiful you are, and my English side is in agreement."

"Another compliment, Mr. Hanover?"

"A most sincere compliment, Miss Farraday."

Victoria closed her eyes trying to bring her wayward heart under control. When she opened her eyes Edward was smiling down at her.

"Thank you for showing me your lovely garden."

He bowed to her gallantly. "It was my pleasure. Shall we rejoin the others, Miss Farraday?"

They walked down the pathway toward the fiesta.

Edward had intended to tell her about serving with the Union Army, but it did not seem to be the right time. He would tell her at a later date. He was sure he could make her understand.

He paused beside the tree, where earlier he had given her the flower. "I wonder if you would allow me to call you Victoria?"

She looked at him for a moment. "Since we are neighbors I suppose it will be all right."

"And you will call me Edward?"

"Yes, if you like."

"I would like it very much, Victoria."

His nearness was very disturbing to her. She wished she were safely back with her grandmother.

"Victoria, we got off on the wrong foot, so to speak, when we first met. Let us forget the past and start fresh."

She smiled. "You did have the wrong impression about me on our first meeting. I do not mind telling you I did not like you very well at first."

He looked deeply into her eyes. "And now? What do you feel for me now?"

Victoria felt a tightening in her throat. "I feel ... I may have misjudged you. My grandmother thinks very highly of you, and I trust her judgment."

He laughed. "You have a way of deflating a man, but you do it with such style, one can hardly find fault."

"It was not my intention to offend you. If I have, please accept my apology."

"Thus speaks the gently bred southern lady; but no, I was not offended by you—rather I am enchanted with you, Victoria." He frowned. "Say my name, Victoria. Let me hear my name on your lips."

She looked away from him. She could feel her body start to tremble. He grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her to face him.

"Say it, Victoria," he demanded.

Her knees felt weak, and her voice seemed to have deserted her for the moment.

"Edward," she whispered softly.

He reached out and brushed a stray curl from her face. The touch of his hand caused the blood to surge in her body. "See," he said, "that was not so difficult, was it?" She shook her head, unable to speak. "Come," he said abruptly. "Your grandmother will be wondering what is keeping us."

Mammaw looked up as she saw Edward and Victoria return. She was beginning to feel that Edward had an interest in her granddaughter, and it made her a bit uneasy. She was aware of his
reputation with the women. Victoria was so young and innocent. Mammaw hoped Edward would not turn her head. She made herself a promise that she would keep an eye on the situation.

It was getting late, and Mammaw had told Edward that she and Victoria must leave. He was going to drive them home himself. Many of his
vaqueros
had come forward to tell them good-by. Edward knew the fiesta would go on well into the morning hours, and some of the men had already had too much to drink.