Gypsy Lady (51 page)

Her
foreboding thoughts came quickly to an end at Jason's swift entry into the
house, and she threw the rifle down and flung herself into his arms. "Oh,
Jason, I was so frightened for you. What does he want?"

Holding
her tightly, he murmured into her hair, "It was nothing, little one.
Davalos is a bully, and he thinks I have something he wants."

Gazing
intently up into his face, she asked, "Do you?"

A slight smile driving the harshness from his features, he
shook his head slowly; "No.
But that won't stop him
from trying. He's tenacious, and sooner or later, I'll have to kill him! God
knows I would avoid it if possible, but a man can only stand so much—and
Davalos has run his length."

Jason's
words were spoken matter of factly, but Catherine sensed the icy
purposefulness behind them. For a moment, his face was hard and implacable, and
she clung to him tighter as if the warmth of her love could drive out this
terrible half-guessed side of him.

Knowing
instinctively that he had almost enjoyed that confrontation made her ask
sharply, "If you're going to kill him anyway why didn't you do it today while
you had the chance?"

"Because,
my furious little love, you could have been hurt—not to mention a score of
others. Davalos only wants me and he wants me alive! And so long as there are
plenty of armed men around, Davalos will sulk about for a while and eventually
give up and leave."

"How
can you be certain? He might not give up so easily!"

Jason
hesitated a moment, and then, as if having made up his mind to something, drew
her down the tiled hall into his study. Throwing himself onto a wide leather
couch, he pulled her onto his lap, cradling her body comfortably against his.
Her expression troubled, Catherine looked up into his dark face, unable for
once to derive any comfort from the close warmth of his body.

Not
meeting her questioning eyes, Jason threaded the fingers of one hand through
hers, all his attention seemingly absorbed in that simple task. For a second,
they both stared down at her slim fingers intertwined with his browner, more
powerful ones. Finally, Jason broke the stillness by saying slowly, "I
have to go back a few years for you to understand what happened today and why
Davalos's appearance doesn't alarm me."

His
face serious, his mouth a little grim, he stared thoughtfully down into
Catherine's upturned face. "You see," he began quietly, "Bias
and I grew up together— off and on. I've always known him, and even though my
childhood years were spent divided between Beauvais and Greenwood, my father's
home in Virginia, we were always good friends. Even through the years I was in
England at Harrow, we remained companions, and whenever I returned to
Beauvais, we picked up the threads of our friendship just as easily as if we'd
just parted only the day before. It was an easy, undemanding friendship, and
Bias was with me through a lot of unhappiness." He threw her a slightly
embarrassed look and confessed, "When I was much younger, the situation
between my parents used to bother me a great deal, and Bias has a kind, understanding
set of parents who are devoted to each other— I'm afraid I envied him,
them."

He
stopped speaking, a sudden frown marring his forehead, and Catherine longed to
reach up and smooth it away. Uncertainty stopped her, and silently she waited
for him to continue.

Picking
his words with care, he went on, "I don't think that he would have
changed—or I, either—if Bias's family hadn't lost their plantation and most of
the family fortune when the indigo crops failed some years ago. I just don't
know. At any rate, things were vastly different for them after the plantation
was sold. Most of the money salvaged from the sale went to pay debts, and his
father and mother returned to Spain. I think some of the younger children went
with them. And I know Bias did have some relatives in Mexico because we visited
with them one year." For a minute his face was blank, and Catherine knew
he was seeing a different, younger Bias than the one she knew. His voice
hardening, he continued, "Davalos had always been Army-mad, and it's
fortunate in some ways that he obtained his commission before the family
fortune was wiped out. But being a lieutenant in the Spanish army with a
wealthy, influential family behind you is different from having to live solely
on a lieutenant's pay, and I know it grated on him. Not only did the lack of
money bother him, but he took it as a personal shame that the plantation
failed."

Switching
his faraway gaze back to her face, Jason smiled slightly, "I'm sorry I'm
taking so long, but all this helps to explain him a little. You see, it was
only after the money was gone that he started searching for other ways to
recoup what had been lost. And not all the methods he chose were exactly right
and honest. He took bribes and blackmailed more than one person. It was those
activities that alienated all of his old friends—not the financial loss. But
Bias never saw it that way, and he took particular delight in harassing those
of us who had survived the disaster—almost as if he blamed us for his own
misfortunes. And the fact is that we were lucky at Beauvais, for my
grandfather had switched to sugar cane and cotton the year before the indigo
crops were devastated by insects." He suddenly smiled down at her with a
lazy grin that tightened her heart and teased, "We're very astute
businessmen, we Beauvaises." His voice serious again, he continued,
"Anyway, Bias and I began to meet head-on more and more, until finally
there wasn't even a pretense of friendship between us. Bias likes to bring up
the past, but he and I know it's over. At least he
should
know it!" Jason laughed harshly, adding,
"I fought a duel with him over two years ago, and if I hadn't been crazy
with rage, I would have killed him. He knows how I feel about him!"

Catherine
could feel the tenseness building in his body, and sympathetically her hand
tightened in his. He glanced down at her, his eyes hard with unpleasant
memories. She waited for him to go on, and when he didn't, she asked carefully,
"What prompted the duel?"

At
her innocent question his whole body stiffened, and his jaw went taut.
Caustically, he snarled, "Why we fought is none of your business! It's
only sufficient for you to know that we did fight!"

He
hadn't meant to snarl; but memory of Phillip's death always crazed him a
little, and even now he couldn't bring himself to speak of it. Someday,
perhaps, he could tell her of a boy's hero-worship of an older, adventuring
godlike creature. But not yet—not while the wound of Phillip's death still lay
open like a fresh-bloodied slash.

Hurt
by his tone, Catherine bit her lip and, just a little resentful, snapped,
"I only asked. You don't have to be nasty about it."

A
sheepish smile crept across his face, and hugging her closer to him, he
soothed, "Don't go all stiff on me! I didn't mean to be a bear, but
sometimes—" the words trailed off.

Not
completely mollified, she asked coldly, "Why did Davalos come here? Why
now?"

"I
can answer your second question easily. That troop, I'm willing to bet, has
been ordered back to Mexico. And whether he likes it or not, Bias does have to
obey orders. He just combined business with his own personal interest and took
a detour. It's a considerable detour, but he can always cover it with some
excuse—such as saying that he was merely surveying the extent of American
encroachment. Spain is very jealous of her lands, and she views us with a
suspicious eye."

Frowning,
Catherine reasoned slowly, "If he's been ordered to Mexico, he can't
linger
here
too long."

Smiling
broadly, Jason answered lightly, "That's right, my love. His opportunities
to catch me are few, and he took a chance today that he might be lucky and
surprise
me."

Not
to be sidetracked, Catherine asked again, "Why does he want you so
badly?"

Sighing
a little, he questioned, "Remember that map Clive wanted?"

She
nodded quickly, clearly puzzled.

"Well,"
Jason continued, "Davalos thinks I have found a legendary place called
Cibola—the seven cities of gold —and he's assuming that I have a map to lead me
to and from it. He followed me to England because he was certain I went there
to solicit investors into backing an expedition to retrieve the gold."

"Did
you?"

"No!
I went to England to buy horses. But Bias followed me, and Clive must have
discovered enough from whatever unsavory characters he deals with, to make him
interested in me. More precisely, any map I might have had."

"Jason,
did you find such a place as Cibola?" Catherine couldn't help asking, her
eyes wide with childlike excitement. He shook his head, smiling at her obvious
disappointment at his answer.
"Greedy puss!
Aren't I rich enough for you?" he teased gently.

"Oh,
no, it's not that! Only think how very exciting it would be if you
had!"
Her thoughts having been only momentarily
diverted, she asked seriously, "Couldn't you explain to Bias that you
haven't found Cibola?"

"No,"
he answered flatly, his amusement gone. "There's nothing on this green
earth that would convince him I haven't found it and that I'm not hoarding the
knowledge to myself!"

"But
that's awful!" she cried. "If he believes you know where it is, he'll
just keep after you!" A shudder shaking her body and fear flickering in
her eyes, she whispered, "Oh, my God, Jason! What would you do if he did
capture you?"

Gently
to calm her fears, he soothed, "I know him well, and I think I'm clever
enough to stay out of his clutches. Don't forget, Davalos is hampered by the
army. He has to go where they send him. And as Spain has no more hold on
Louisiana, he'll have to be stationed somewhere on Spanish territory. He might
even be recalled to Spain."

"But
you don't know that!" she argued. "You'll never know when he might
show up again."

"Catherine,
listen to me! I can handle Davalos. He's not particularly a brave man—if he
were he'd cause me some sleepless nights. He's sly and cowardly. Today proved
it. Any other man would have shoved the insults I gave him down my throat.
Don't worry about him! I have men in strategic places throughout Terre du Coeur
just watching out for strangers of his type, and they will give us plenty of
warning if he comes back."

At
her disbelieving snort, he shook her slightly. "Davalos can only be
dangerous if he finds me
alone.
I'm
not a fool, and I intend to be on my guard. I can assure you, I have no desire
to go wandering off by myself to make it easy for him! And you might remember
that yourself. From now on don't go riding without an escort. I don't think
you have anything to worry about, though—
I'm
his
quarry!"

Unconvinced,
she asked tightly, "How can you be so blind? Are you going to spend the
rest of your life looking over your shoulder, wondering where he is and when he
will strike?" Not waiting for an answer or expecting one, she spat
viciously, "I wish you had killed him today!"

Flatly
he returned, "I don't intend to spend the remainder of my life worrying
about Davalos. And believe
me,
it would have given me
great pleasure to shoot him from his horse." His eyes icy he added with
cold amusement, "Killing a man is not just a matter of deciding to do it!
Sometimes, my little firebrand, you have to wait for the right circumstances—or
make them."

He
left her then, striding purposefully out of the room. Catherine sank back down
onto the sofa, all her fears still alive and unabated. She was filled with a
queer premonition of disaster.

Men!
she
thought disgustedly. They had to do everything their
own way, while their women could only stand back and watch and pray that
everything came out all right. If she were a man, she wouldn't have been swayed
today by such niceties as the fact that Davalos hadn't pulled a gun first! He
was on Jason's land, and more importantly he was a threat—that's all the
excuse
she
would have needed, and she
would have shot him, dead!

Why
did men, she wondered despairingly, with their incomprehensible code of honor,
let the oddest things control their actions? The question was unanswerable. A
cloud of gloom on her pretty face, she ran up the stairs, seeking the comfort
derived from holding her son next to her body.

But
later that evening, a set expression on her face, she sought out Jason's den at
the rear of the house. Opening a drawer that she knew held several hunting
knives,
she eventually found a small delicately balanced
blade that suited her purpose. Quickly and deftly she hid it gypsy fashion
under her clothes. Feeling considerably safer she left the room—at least
Davalos wouldn't catch
her
unarmed!