The Spanish Outlaw (21 page)

Vivian
’s heart hammered, and her hands moistened. Should she allow this woman back into her heart? Yet now was not the time to argue. They needed to hide themselves from Juanito’s men.

“Fine,”
Vivian said. “I will put my trust in you right now because I have no other choice.”

Eleanor smiled, making her blue eyes twinkle. “I know the perfect place to take you.”

“Where is that?” Vivian asked.

“To my home.”
She glanced behind her again then motioned for them to follow. “Come quickly.”

Anton grasped
Vivian’s hand as they hurried behind the older woman. “
Gracias
, Mrs. Wentworth. I will be truly in your debt if you can get us out of here in one piece.”

Not another word was spoken as Anton held onto
Vivian, running through the woods, dodging the trees and bushes.

Her mind spun in a whirlwind of confusion. Was her mother truly helping them, and not leading them into a trap? After their time with Raúl,
Vivian was leery of trusting anyone. Anton had taught her that
nobody
could be trusted.

Twelve
years ago, she had believed her mother would always be there, to be the kind of mother all of the other girls had. And she trusted Eleanor to return to reclaim her family. The family that needed her so desperately.

As hard as it was,
Vivian had to believe her mother was not working with Juanito. Yet, she confessed to living in Spain for five years. Coincidence, or had fate lent a hand?

Anton squeezed her fingers, and she glanced into his soft eyes. His smile warmed her heart and spread comfort throughout her body. Here was one man she could always trust. A man she would love forever.

They took a different path up a knoll, and Vivian tried to keep pace beside Anton, even while wearing men’s boots. Tonight, her muscles would scream from exertion, but she’d worry about that when it happened. Now, she had to show Anton that she could keep up since he still thought of her as a woman with tender sensibilities. Inwardly, she chuckled. She’d make him proud.

They climbed up and over, only to find a cliff, which thankfully, wasn’t very steep, but it was someplace to hide, nonetheless.

Anton stopped and looked over. “We shall hide down there.”

He jumped over the bush and into the small ravine.
Vivian stopped suddenly, and glanced at him for reassurance.

“It is not far. I will catch you,” he urged and held out his hands.

She nodded then hopped over the bush and into his arms. He put her down and helped her mother into the gully.

Anton pressed himself against the wall of the earth as he withdrew his pistol
and cocked it. Vivian and Eleanor stood beside him, waiting and listening.

Beside him,
Vivian shivered. His protective arm wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her next to his hard body. She rested her face against his chest.

The wait seemed forever, of course, trying to keep quiet made the time creep by, but soon came the heavy hooves from the horses.
Vivian held her breath and squeezed her eyes closed, praying the riders would look past them.

Anton’s arm tightened around her. Beside
Vivian, her mother’s hand clasped her shoulder, causing Vivian to look at Eleanor. Wide, frightened eyes met her gaze, so she offered a tentative smile and clutched her mother’s hand.

Within minutes, the thunder of galloping horses riding away soothed
Vivian’s fears. Soon, the men were gone.

Anton exhaled a heavy breath and released his hold on her
, uncocking his pistol and placing it back in the waistband of his trousers. He looked down at her then switched his gaze to her mother. “I think we are safe. For now.”

Vivian
nodded. “At least for now.”

“Yes,” Eleanor agreed. “But let’s not stay here any longer. I think you two will be safe at my house.”

“Where is that?” Anton asked.

Eleanor smiled. “Not too far from here. If we hurry, we will be there by the lunch hour, and my cook is the best around.”

Vivian scrunched her forehead; confusion working its way into her heart again. Her mother had her own servant? After a slow inspection of the other woman, Vivian’s confusion grew deeper. Why did she not look wealthy now, yet she had on the ship?

Giving a nod,
Vivian allowed Eleanor to lead the way. The truth would soon be uncovered, and frankly, Vivian thought it was past due. After twelve years, she was ready to know.

Chapter Fifteen

Vivian
stared wide-eyed at the three story, red brick building; the fanciest establishment she’d seen since arriving in port. Green grass surrounded the place, along with a tall black iron fence.

Eleanor led the way while
Vivian and Anton walked side by side behind her. As they neared, women dressed in beautiful silk dresses stood on the wrap-around porch and scattered the lawn, all accompanied by a well-dressed man.

Vivian
eyed each one carefully. They must have walked into some kind of soirée. But so far, nobody questioned them, or their attire, since neither she nor Anton were dressed as elegantly. However, the women called out greetings to Eleanor and appeared genuinely happy to see her, welcoming her back from her trip.

Eleanor walked up the steps to the porch to the front door, opening it as she hurried inside. As soon as Anton walked in, he grabbed
Vivian’s hand, bringing her to a halt. She glanced into his eyes in silent question. His hooded expression didn’t tell her anything, just that he needed to observe the people in the room before they proceeded.

She tore her attention away from him and took in everything from the hard wooden floors, to the beautiful colorful designs painted on the walls of meadows and the sky, then to the very expensive furniture scattered around the floor. The white open lace curtains allowed the afternoon sunlight to pour through, making everything appear shiny and new.

All the people in the room were dressed in silks and satins, but it was the way they paired off that made Vivian curious. Usually at soirées people stood together in groups. So why had every woman been paired with a man? The ladies giggled as they whispered something in the men’s ear, or they cuddled next to them in an almost indecent display.

Eleanor started up the staircase, then stopped and turned toward
Vivian and Anton, who still stood in observation.

“If you’ll follow me, I will show you to your room.”

“Forgive me, Mrs. Wentworth, but I must protest,” Anton stated loudly.

An uneasy feeling washed over
Vivian. Something in the tone of his voice made her alert, and suspicious.

Eleanor squared her shoulders and faced them. “What is it?”

Gently, he squeezed Vivian’s hand. “Please do not think I am a simpleton, Mrs. Wentworth. Although your daughter has not been to places like these, I certainly have, and I highly doubt she will feel comfortable here.”

Pink highlighted the older woman’s cheeks, but she remained standing firm.
“My apologies. I don’t think you’re a simpleton at all. I brought you here only to hide you. I don’t think your uncle will look for you here.”

Pain welled in
Vivian’s chest. What were they talking about, and why was Anton so leery? Once again, she took a quick look around the hallway, then into the nearest room. The only thing out of the ordinary was the couples who cuddled up to each other in an improper fashion.

Laughter from up the stairs drew her attention. Another woman and man came into view. The man’s shirt hung open as he stuffed his shirttails into his trousers, and the woman...the woman wore the most indecent nightdress
Vivian had ever seen. The very short gown exposed the woman’s bare limbs, and the deep cut in the bodice displayed most of the woman’s full bosom.

Vivian
gasped as her hand flew to her mouth. Heat rushed to her cheeks, and finally pieces fit together in her mother and Anton’s conversation.

Jerking her head around to Anton, she blinked. “Is
this a...whorehouse?”

His lips stayed in a thin line when he nodded.
“Actually, this facility is considered a brothel since it is fancier, and the clientele is on a higher scale, as well.”

She hissed and swung her focus to her mother, still on the stairs standing proud and rigid. “How dare you!”
Vivian accused.

Eleanor’s mouth tugged into a frown as tears glistened on her eyelashes. “Please come with me, and I will explain. We need not air our discussion in front of these people.”

Anton leaned down to Vivian’s ear. “She is right,” he whispered. “We need to go to a room posthaste. We should not give these people a reason to ask questions.”

Stiffly,
Vivian nodded. “Then make it quick, because I wish to hear my mother’s explanation for this very soon before I give her a piece of my mind.”

Grabbing handfuls of her skirt, Eleanor lifted it to her ankles as she hurried up the stairs, Anton and
Vivian close behind.

Agony wrenched from her chest and disappointment settled in her stomach. Her mother had lowered herself to
this
kind of life? What happened to the wealthy man she’d run away with and left her family for? Then again, Vivian’s father had mentioned passion ruled her mother. Did he know she’d been reduced to living in a brothel before he had died?

Eleanor led them all the way down the hall then opened a door with a key.
Vivian half expected to find a man and woman on the bed. Instead, an empty room greeted her. The furnishings looked to be as expensive as the ones downstairs. Everything had been straightened and dusted. The large bed in the far corner against the wall had beautiful covers and matching pillowcases, and red scarves draped along the posts. Armoires and trunks lined the walls, and nearest to the door sat a mahogany desk with a Chippendale chair.

Obviously, her mother lived in luxury. Why would she regret leaving her poor family when she had all this?

Eleanor closed the door behind them and leaned against the solid oak. Silence filled the room until Anton cleared his throat and shifted in his stance, obviously uncomfortable.

“Why...why did you bring us here?”
Vivian asked.

“This is the only place I could hide you.”

Vivian glanced around the room again. “Do you actually live here?”

Eleanor lowered her head. “Yes,” she whispered.

Emotion clogged Vivian’s throat, and she dared not to speak, but she needed answers. The pain of betrayal cut a hole in her heart that had to be fixed.

“Well, I appreciate your help, Eleanor,”
Vivian said with a tight voice, “but we won’t be staying long. As soon as it gets dark, we’ll be gone.”

Eleanor’s bottom lip trembled, but she didn’t lift her head.

Anton rubbed Vivian’s arm, and she looked up into the comfort of his gaze. He offered a soft smile and kissed her forehead. “I think you and your mother need to talk. I shall wait outside.”

She grabbed his arm. “No, don’t—”

“Not to worry, my love. I will keep a sharp eye for any of my uncle’s men. Right now, you and your mother need some privacy.”

He kissed her again before stepping out. Emptiness gathered in her heart from his absence as worry tried to fill the space. She really didn’t want to be alone with her mother, yet, how else would she know the reasons her mother left
all those years ago?

Heaving a ragged breath, she turned and walked to the window, looking out into the yard. Green bushes and a rainbow of flowers
colored the lovely landscape. Too bad appearances were so deceiving.

“I’m sorry I’ve disappointed you,” Eleanor said.

Vivian shrugged. “I would think you’d worry about disappointing yourself.” She looked over her shoulder at the woman. “This is not the kind of profession one is proud of.”

“Don’t you think I know this?” Eleanor walked closer, but stopped at the foot of the bed. “Do you honestly believe I chose this lifestyle?”

Vivian let out a short, unladylike snort. “Are you trying to tell me you were forced into it?”

Sighing heavily, Eleanor sank to the bed and covered her face. “No, I wasn’t forced. I just didn’t have any choice.”

“I beg to differ, Eleanor. Everybody has a choice.”

When Eleanor lifted her head, tears spiked her eyelashes. “As a young girl, my family was very poor. My father died, and my mother had a hard time keeping the family fed. She worked as a maid for a wealthy family, but she still struggled.”

From her pocket, she withdrew a white handkerchief and wiped underneath her nose, then dabbed her eyes. “One day, the man who my mother worked for approached me. He said he knew a way I could make money. Lots of money. He said I was the perfect age.”

“How old were you?”

“Seventeen.”

“What happened?”

“He took me to a brothel, grander in fact than this one.” She swept her hand through the air. “He introduced me to the Madame, who then explained to me that because of my class, I would never make enough money—the kind to help out my family, that is. But if I worked for her, she would dress me in silks and jewels, and men would fall at my feet. I agreed. At the time, my brother was very sick, and we had no money for a doctor.”

Eleanor sniffed and wiped her eyes again, still keeping her gaze on the floor. “Little did I know at the time, but the man had sold me to this Madame. Once I realized what they expected of me, it was too late. I was already one of Madame Flora’s girls.”

She waited a few minutes. Silence surrounded them, except for her sniffles. Then she lifted her head and looked directly at Vivian. “I made a living doing that for two years. I hated every minute of it, but I couldn’t leave.” She shrugged. “I didn’t know how. One day while in the marketplace, I met a man passing through town. He didn’t know about me, and I wasn’t about to divulge the truth. After that, I met him secretly for two weeks, and he proposed. I lied and told him I didn’t have a family. I also told him I worked as a maid.”

Eleanor took a deep breath. “So I married him and left with him that very day, back to where he lived, which was far away from the brothel. That was the happiest time of my life. I was thrilled when I had his children, and I loved my family completely.”

Tears threatened Vivian’s eyes, and she quickly blinked them away. Her throat tightened with sorrow, so she swallowed, not allowing her emotions to take over. Turning, she leaned against the wall and folded her arms across her chest. “Then why did you leave us?”

“My world came to an end when one of my former customers recognized me with your father. The man walked up to us on the street and asked where I’d been all these years. He asked if I was now giving my favors to your father. I tried to cover it up with lies, but your father’s curiosity got the better of him, and he sought answers. It nearly killed me to have your father look at me with accusing eyes. He was ashamed of me. He told me I didn’t deserve to be his wife, and the mother of his children, so he ordered me to leave.”

Vivian’s heart slammed in her chest, and she bolted away from the wall. “What?” At her sides, she fisted her hands. “You’re telling me Father instructed you to leave your own children?” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Eleanor, but that’s hard to believe. What father would do that to his children?”

Sobs took over Eleanor, and she cried into her handkerchief. “It’s the truth,” she muttered. “I never wanted to leave you.” She lifted her head and met
Vivian’s eyes again. “In fact, I wouldn’t leave, but your father became very forceful, and his words crushed my heart. He was right. Because of what I’d done, I wasn’t good enough to be a mother to my children.”

Vivian
’s head throbbed as confusion filled her. Who should she believe? Then again, her mother’s story did sound plausible. Vivian never understood why her mother had chosen to leave the family and run off with a wealthy man. And her father had been very angry with his wife. Hearing her mother’s story, it started to make sense. Even her father’s words had meaning. No wonder he’d referred to her mother as a whore.

Vivian
covered her ears and closed her eyes. Tears built up behind her eyelids, but she refused to shed them. Pain burst in her chest, crumbling her defenses and making her heart ache even more. She wanted to rush to her mother and have her hold her like she used to a long time ago. She wanted to return to yesteryear before her mother left...before Vivian’s life had been ripped apart.

“I’ll give you some time to think,” Eleanor said. “I need to make certain our lunch is prepared anyway.”

Soft footsteps padded toward the door, and it wasn’t until the door shut that Vivian allowed the tears to come forth. She fell on the bed and cried her heart out.

Suddenly two strong hands lifted her and pressed her against the solid chest of a man. She breathed in Anton’s scent of spice and wrapped her arms around his waist. Together they lay on the bed. He stroked her hair as she sobbed into his shirt. His soothing strokes calmed her, and soon she felt as weak as a newborn lamb.

Heaviness weighed her eyes, and she let sleep consume her.

* * * *

The woman in Anton’s arms moved against him, bringing him awake and very alert. He pulled back enough to look at Vivian’s face. Her eyelids lazily fluttered open as she met his stare. Thankfully, the puffiness had disappeared from her tears last night. Poor girl had been through so much, and holding her was the only way he could think to comfort.

She smiled and snuggled closer.
“Morning.”

“Good morning,
querida
.” He kissed her forehead. “How do you feel today?”