Golden Paradise (Vincente 1) (17 page)

Read Golden Paradise (Vincente 1) Online

Authors: Constance O'Banyon

Tags: #Historical, #Romance, #Fiction, #19th Century, #American West, #Western, #Adult, #Adventure, #Action, #GOLDEN PARADISE, #Curvaceous, #BBW, #Exploit, #Dancing, #San Francisco, #Crystal Palace, #Profession, #Charade, #Double Identity, #Veiled Jordanna, #Innocent Valentina, #Wealthy, #Marquis Vincente, #Older Brother, #Vincente Siblings

BOOK: Golden Paradise (Vincente 1)
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He walked slowly toward her, and his hands landed heavily on her shoulders. Through the mirror they stared at each other. Marquis's eyes searched the shadows of her face, seeking her eyes. As always, her features were cleverly disguised. "Jordanna, I do not care who you are when you walk out that door. While you are in this room, you are exciting and intriguing. I should not have to tell you that I"—he paused for effect—"enjoy being with you. I look forward to getting to know you better . . . much better."

She dropped her head to avoid his eyes. "I don't know what you mean."

He moved so he was facing her. His hand touched her cheek, and he tilted her face up to him. "Yes, you do. Do not play coy with me. A woman does not reach your position without having her share of lovers. I know you must feel something for me or you wouldn't allow me access to your dressing room. I am in a position to know you have turned all other men away. I want to make love to you and you know it, Jordanna. Why do you turn me inside out? But I suppose you have taken lessons on how to torture men and make them want you."

Valentina felt her face burn with shame and indignation. How could Marquis believe such a thing of her? Before she could voice her anger, he lowered his head and brushed his lips against her forehead.

"I want you, Jordanna. You know it, and I know it. I believe we both also know I will have you before too much time has passed." He spoke without arrogance, as if merely stating a fact.

She opened her mouth to protest, but he silenced her. "Shh. Don't say anything, Jordanna. I know I am a beast. I sometimes speak too bluntly, but I like to lay my cards on the table. If I have offended . . . will you forgive me?"

She did not hesitate. "Yes."

He toyed with the fringe on her turban. "Perhaps I have been pushing you too hard. I have decided to give you some breathing space so you can consider what I have said to you. I am going to be away for awhile. When I return, I want to have a serious talk about you and me."

"You are going away?" Her heart sank.

"Yes. Nothing but duty could keep me away from you. I should be back within a week."

"Where are you going?" she queried, unable to keep herself from asking.

"I have a favor to perform for a friend." His smile was infectious, and Valentina felt a smile tugging at her lips. "I will be bored the whole time I am away. Will you manage to miss me?"

Valentina pushed his hand away and stared at him once more through the mirror. "I shall be too busy to think of anything but my dancing."

He chuckled and walked to the door. "You are not entirely truthful. I know you will think of me."

Before Valentina could reply, Marquis had disappeared out the door. Yes, she would miss him. He had told her he had a boring task. She wondered what it was.

 

 

14

 

Prudence Lawton rapped on the cabin door and waited for it to open. She had been dying of curiosity ever since she had seen the workmen leaving the day before. She had listened to the hammering and sawing with anticipation. Valentina had asked permission to make a few improvements in the cabin, and Prudence had gladly agreed, knowing any repairs would be beneficial to her and her brother.

Prudence drew back as the foreign-looking woman stood in the open doorway staring at her with cold eyes. "I want to see your mistress," Prudence declared, pushing past Salamar and giving her no chance to object.

Prudence stopped short, gawking at the luxury of the cabin interior. Brightly colored yellow and blue rugs lay on the polished wooden floor. The cracks in the rough log walls had been filled in and whitewashed. Fragile porcelain figurines decorated the mantel above the fireplace. Copper pots and pans glistened on the wall above the table. Her eyes fell on the frail woman sitting on the lounge, amid satin covers.

"I do declare, Miss Barrett," Prudence stated, "this is far nicer than my house. Where did the money come from to fix this place up so grand?" Envy burned in the woman's eyes. "I can see we don't charge you enough rent. I'm sure my brother will correct that little matter as soon as he returns from the mountains."

Evonne took a deep breath. Now that she was feeling better, she was ready to tilt with her landlord's sister. "Can I offer you tea, Miss Lawton?" she asked, more out of politeness than any need to be social.

Prudence dragged over a chair beside the lounge and plopped down on it. "I don't mind if I do. If that's stew cooking in the pot, I wouldn't say no to a bowl full of it." She looked at Salamar suspiciously. "Your woman there wouldn't put anything unseemly in the pot, would she? I've heard it said that those heathen women sometimes cook dogs, lizards, and other unmentionables."

Evonne had always had a sense of humor, and now she found that humor rising to the surface, egged on by a streak of mischief. "I didn't know that, Miss Lawton. Could that be the reason the stew has had a peculiar taste to it lately?"

Prudence's eyes seemed to bulge out of her head. "On second thought, I don't think I'll have anything. I had lunch just a while ago." Her eyes fastened on the lacy blue shawl that was draped across Evonne's shoulders. She had always been partial to that color blue. Greed and envy caused her voice to rise to a high-pitched tone. "You never did say where the money came from that paid for all this. I know it wasn't long ago that you and your daughter was without means, and she came to my brother asking for help."

"I wasn't aware that my daughter asked your brother for help," Evonne said, glancing at Salamar for denial, but Salamar seemed not to be listening to the conversation.

"Well, she did. My brother felt so sorry about your plight that he even offered to marry her, thinking it was the Christian thing to do."

Evonne's eyes blazed as she thought of the poison that escaped this woman's lips in the name of Christianity. "My daughter will never have to marry anyone because he feels pity for her. As to where our money comes from, you should know. After all, it was you who helped Valentina get the position with Mrs. Windom. The woman is very wealthy and pays my daughter quite well."

Prudence leaned toward Evonne and lowered her voice. "I know of no one in this town who would pay the kind of money it would take to fix this place up so grandly." Prudence's colorless eyes seemed to take on a glow. "If I was you, I'd get to the bottom of this. Your daughter is making money all right, but I doubt she gets it from that sick old woman."

Salamar saw Evonne's face whiten, and she quickly picked up a tray she had been preparing and approached Prudence Lawton. "I have your lunch, madame," she said, smiling. "The meat is a bit tough, but I hope you will find it tasty. I prepared it like we do in my country. I added some special ingredients ... I hope you will find it to your liking."

Prudence jumped immediately to her feet and headed toward the door. "I can't stay. I just remembered something that I have to do," she called over her shoulder.

Salamar caught Evonne's eye, and they both burst into laughter. "I'll take my food now, Salamar," Evonne said at last, holding out her hand. "I thought you always used my mother-in-law's recipe when you made stew."

Salamar sat down in the chair just vacated by Miss Lawton. "So I lied when I said it was a recipe from my homeland. What can you expect from a heathen?"

Evonne's eyes were dancing with mirth. "Loyalty and friendship," she said, taking a bite of Salamar's delicious stew. "I don't find it tough, but it needs more salt."

Again the cabin rang with laughter, and Salamar was able to make Evonne forget all about Prudence Lawton's visit for the time being.

When Valentina came in later, she was glad to find her mother in such good spirits. She asked the reason for it and was surprised to hear that the cause of her mother's gay mood was none other than Reverend Lawton's sister.

 

It was a mild Sunday afternoon, and Valentina stood brushing her mother's hair away from her face, then fastened it behind her ear with ivory combs. Evonne laid back against the pillow and smiled at her daughter.

"I am feeling stronger each day, dear. My spirits have been lifted since you and Salamar arrived. You have made this dreary cabin into a warm and cheerful home and given purpose to my life."

"I'm afraid that Salamar deserves most of the credit. She is the one who turned this drab place into a home."

"What would we do without her, Valentina?"

"I hope we never have to find out. She is as much a part of this family as any of us."

"Yes, she was always a part of your life. When you were born, she became devoted to you." Evonne's eyes moved over the room. "Where is Salamar?"

"She has gone to the dock to buy fish. She doesn't like the fish that comes from the market."

Evonne plucked at the coverlet in her lap. "I suppose we have to watch our money and spend wisely. I know it must have cost a great deal to have this cabin made livable."

Valentina avoided her mother's eyes, feeling guilty. She and Salamar had taken every precaution to keep from her mother the fact that she danced at the Crystal Palace. "You aren't to worry about money. I am paid very well. In fact, if there is anything special you want, you have only to say the word and I will get it for you."

"I didn't think taking care of an eccentric old woman would be your lot in life, Valentina. I want the best of everything for you. When your father comes home, you will stop working immediately."

Valentina felt her heart plunge, for she despised the lies that stood between her and her mother. She hated keeping the truth from her, but the truth, in this case, would probably bring on a relapse, and Valentina could never allow that to happen.

Evonne squeezed her daughter's hand. "We will all be happy when your father returns. I wonder if your Senor Vincente has heard anything new about your father?"

"He isn't my Senor Vincente, Mother . . . and I'm sure if he had found out anything new, he would have let us know immediately."

"I suppose, my dearest." Evonne's eyes drifted to the window, and she stared outside with a wistful expression. "I miss your father more and more each day. I know he's alive, just as I know he will come home to me. If only ... if only. . . ."

Valentina barely heard her mother, for her mind was far away. Although she appreciated Marquis's help in searching for her father, she regretted not having demanded more information from him. She could not continue to depend on him and Tyree. She would have to find out for herself what had happened to her father.

"I have decided to make another trip to the mines and talk to Mr. Udell, Mother," she said at last. "I thought if I could get away that I would go next week."

"It's dangerous, Valentina," her mother protested. "You know what happened the last time you tried that."

"I can take care of myself. I want to hear about my father right from Mr. Udell's own mouth. I want him to look me in the eye and tell me what happened to Father."

"I will worry about you, Valentina. If only there were something else we could do. I feel so lost without your father's guidance."

Valentina did not want her mother to become depressed and decided it was time to distract her. She reached behind her and picked up a package. With a smile, she placed the parcel in her mother's lap. "I have two surprises for you today. This is the first one."

Evonne looked puzzled. "What can this be?"

"Why don't you open it and find out."

Evonne excitedly ripped the paper aside and held her breath at what she saw. The soft pink gown was embroidered with tiny white roses, and there was a satin sash for the waist. The neck was cut high with a white lace collar. "This is lovely. I'm sure you spent too much money on me. How did you ever come by such a gown in San Francisco?"

Valentina held the gown against her mother, noting the way the soft color complimented her skin tone. "I found a woman who is a wonder with a needle. Her husband is off searching for gold, and she sews to feed their three children."

Evonne's eyes sparkled with delight. Standing up, she held out the gown to her daughter. "Do you think I could try it on?"

Valentina was aware that since discovering her mother's illness, it had been she who had become the strong one. Where her mother had once looked to her father for guidance, now she looked to her daughter. Sometimes Valentina longed for someone strong to lean on herself. She was new at making decisions, for her life had always been ordered for her.

Pushing her troubles aside, she smiled at her mother. "Indeed you can try it on. That brings me to the second part of my surprise. Doctor Cline said you were well enough to get out of the house for a short time, if you don't overdo. I am taking you out to lunch tomorrow at the San Francisco Hotel."

Evonne's eyes lit up with happiness. "That will be wonderful. I haven't been out since . . . since—"

"Tomorrow you are going to be the center of attention. Everyone who sees you will wonder who the beautiful woman wearing the pink gown could be."

Evonne giggled girlishly. "My darling daughter, no one will notice me with you at my side. You have grown into a lovely young woman. You look very much like I did at your age, but with one exception—you are much more beautiful."

"Nonsense, Mother. You are the original model that can't be improved upon. I am merely the copy."

"I have been twice blessed in my life, Valentina. I have the best husband any woman could ever want, and together we produced an exceptional daughter." Valentina noticed that the sadness was back in her mother's voice, and she vowed that tomorrow would be special for her. Nothing was going to spoil it.

"I suggest that you rest this evening. Tomorrow will be a big day, and I want you to have fun, Mother."

"What mode of transportation will we use?" her mother inquired as her spirits rose once again.

"Nothing less than the best," Valentina told her. "Before Salamar went to the dock, she was to find Santiago and engage his services for tomorrow."

"As I recall, the last time you used Santiago's services, you ended up with the buggy on top of you," Evonne reminded her daughter.

Valentina laughed. "Let us hope this time it will end differently."

A serious expression caused Evonne's brow to furrow. "Valentina, why did you never tell me that the Reverend Lawton asked you to marry him?"

Valentina, on her knees brushing the dust from her mother's pink leather shoes, dropped her head so her mother could not see her face. "I didn't say anything to you about it because it wasn't important. I never for one moment considered his offer."

"There's something else. Why didn't you mention that we were having money problems?"

"You were ill and I didn't want to trouble you."

"I see. One more question and we can close the book on this discussion. I know that everything in San Francisco costs six times what it would anywhere else. How can we afford to live so well? Surely we don't have much money to live on."

Valentina had known that as soon as her mother grew stronger she would start asking questions. Evonne Barrett was an intelligent woman and not easily fooled. At the same time, she enjoyed the luxury and care Valentina and Salamar were providing. Never a realist, Evonne had always hidden any kind of unpleasantness from herself. She did not want to delve too deeply into the matter of Valentina's employment. She did not really want to learn where all the money had come from.

Valentina knew if she were going to tell her mother the truth, now was the time to do it. For the first time, Valentina noticed that Salamar had come in. Her eyes were telling Valentina to tread lightly where her mother's feelings were concerned. Valentina realized she wanted to confess in order to ease her own guilt, but if she did it might be at her mother's expense.

"There is no reason for you to worry about money. We are doing fine," she said at last. "I . . . feel that I earn the money I am paid, Mother." Her heart was aching over the half-truth that had come so easily to her lips. She hoped God would forgive her for deceiving her own mother.

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