The Tiger Lily (34 page)

"Because,"
Brett said smoothly, "Alejandro will tell everyone that he is going to
fool the bandits by secreting the jewels and objects in a load of hay he is
selling to Senor Gutierrez at the livery stable. That he will be driving the
cart himself and will only bring along two vaqueros to accompany it. He doesn't
want to be heavily guarded for fear the bandits—and remember, we don't know really
how many there are—will guess what he is about and will summon more of their
own number and attack him."

"Excellent!"
Alejandro said approvingly. "And you and Carlos will be the two
vaqueros?"

Brett
smiled and shook his head. "No. Carlos, Ollie, and I will be under the
hay, armed and ready to strike!"

"You
have thought it out well, gringo," Carlos said with grudging admiration.

Brett
inclined his head. "Thank you, Carlos." Then, glancing around, he
asked, "Are we agreed then?"

The
other two men nodded their heads. "Si, " they both replied, and
Alejandro rubbed his hands together in anticipation. Only Sabrina had
objections. Her eyes fixed unhappily on Brett's, she asked, "But what if
something goes wrong? What if there are more than three or four bandits? You
could be hurt!"

"Not
a chance, sweetheart!" Brett replied lightly. "There are four of them
at the most, possibly only three; there will be six of us, and we will have the
element of surprise."

Almost
wistfully she muttered, "I wish I could come along, too. I am proficient
with the pistol. I could hide under the hay with you."

There
was a resounding
"No!"
from the three males, and Sabrina
reluctantly put the idea from her.

Carlos
left immediately. "There are others I still must see, keeping with the
original plan," he said bluntly, and then hurried away.

For
some moments after he had departed, the other three continued to discuss the
bandits and Brett's plan, but eventually the conversation not unnaturally
returned to a more pleasant topic—the wedding that would be arranged within the
next few months. Sipping his claret, Alejandro leaned back in his chair and
remarked, "It will be lonesome for me once you two are married and you
have gone to live at Riverview. I trust you will come back often to visit
me?"

Sabrina
started to protest that she didn't want to live at Riverview in Natchez, that
aspect of being married to Brett not having occurred to her previously, but
Brett halted her exclamations by saying calmly, "We won't be living at
Riverview."

Alejandro
quirked an eyebrow. "Oh? Why not? Since you are heir to the estate, I
assumed that you would wish to live there. Someday, after I am gone, you will
have to make some decisions about the
rancho
, but that is in the
future."

"Far
in the future, I hope!" Brett said with an affectionate smile. His face
sobered, and he confessed baldly, "I am no longer the heir to Riverview—it
is to go to Gordon, my young half brother."

"What?"
Sabrina inquired sharply, every suspicion she had ever entertained about Brett
rising up before her.

Brett
sent her a hooded glance, his face unsmiling. "Exactly what I said.
Riverview is not mine—will not ever be mine." An odd note in his voice, he
continued, "I have a plantation in the lower Louisiana Territory. It is
not Riverview, but you should have no fear that I am not able to provide well
for you." Deliberately he made no mention of his other wealth, intensely
curious about her reaction to the news that she would never be mistress of his
father's elegant mansion and wealthy estate.

The
fact that she was a considerable heiress hadn't ever bothered Sabrina. It
probably wouldn't have even now if firett had said he loved her and had
explained earlier about Riverview. As it was, she couldn't help but wonder
about his proposal, couldn't help but be aware of how very little she actually
knew about the man she had just consented to marry. Carlos's tale of the
knife-slashed girl in New Orleans came back to haunt her, as well as his
comments about Constanza, and Sabrina felt slightly sick. If she had been more
confident in her love, if Brett had been more forthcoming, more honest about
his own emotions and situation, there would have been no sudden doubts, no
sudden, unpleasant suspicions running through her mind.

Because
she was silent, that the news of his loss of Riverview troubled her was obvious
to Brett. That she might be thinking he was the fortune hunter never crossed
his mind. But then he had never been privy to Sofia's letters about Hugh
threatening to disown him, had never realized that there might be some
speculation about his reasons for suddenly appearing in the wilds of Spanish
Texas. And of course, there was Carlos. . . .

Carlos
had done his work well on both of them, the sly innuendos he had flung at
Sabrina now taking root, raising all manner of uncertainty in her mind. As for
Brett, he had the memory of Lady Diana's disdain, as well as Carlos's ugly
statement that Sabrina was vitally interested in his fortune, to arouse demons
he had thought he had conquered.

They
were both of them appalled at their thoughts, guilt-stricken and horrified that
they could harbor such disgusting ideas about the person they had just agreed
to marry, and yet, like a tiny sliver under the skin, the suspicions would not
go away. Both refused to think about the distasteful subject, and both
determinedly thrust the ideas away as nonsense, but the seed had been planted,
and they were hampered by their very lack of trust in one another.

The
disclosure about Riverview didn't faze Alejandro in the least; he knew the full
extent of Brett's fortune. If anything, the lack of Riverview pleased him, and
with deceptive lightness he said, "Well, since Riverview has no claim upon
you, why don't you consider settling here?" He smiled faintly. "I am
approaching the day when I will be relieved to loosen the reins of the Rancho
del Torres, and nothing would give me greater pleasure than to see it fall into
your capable hands."

It
was a tactless remark to have made in front of Sabrina. Completely unaware of
its effect upon his daughter, Alejandro sent her an affectionate look and
compounded the error by saying, "It has long troubled me,
chica
,
the idea of you running the rancho single-handedly. A woman needs a strong man
to care for her, and now that Brett has undertaken that responsibility, I know
that I can rest easy."

Inadvertently
made to feel like an imbecile, Sabrina fought down her humiliated anger. Her
face stiff and set, the rage and resentment that were stirring in her breast
very apparent to Brett—rage and resentment he wrongly attributed to the news
about Riverview—she stood up and said tightly, "I didn't realize that
becoming betrothed automatically stripped me of the ability to take care of
myself! What would you have done, Father, if Brett had not offered for me—put
me in a nunnery?" She gave a bitter laugh and sent both men a decidedly
hostile look. "Excuse me, I must go and say prayers of thankfulness for
the fate I have been spared!"

In
shocked dismay, Alejandro watched her sweep regally from, the courtyard.
Horrified at her reaction, he glanced helplessly to Brett. "She is so
young and proud," he muttered excusingly. "I should never have said a
word about her needing someone to care for her—she is quite certain that she
needs no one, that she is as competent as any man."

Brett's
eyes were fixed on Sabrina's departing figure, and almost vaguely, almost to
himself, he murmured, "But perhaps it wasn't that which made her angry.
Perhaps it was"—his voice hardened—"something entirely different."

CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN

Alejandro
made his peace with Sabrina that evening, and on the surface everything seemed
harmonious. Alejandro was so full of enthusiasm for the match that he never
noticed that the two principals seemed a trifle less than wildly ecstatic about
the wedding plans. Suspicion once aroused dies hard, and Brett and Sabrina were
both fighting their own particular demons—each one wanted to believe in the
other, each one wanted the marriage, and yet . . .

Brett's
plan to trap the bandits went precisely as discussed. Alejandro's news that he
was bringing the del Torreses' valuables into town in a hay cart on Monday
found the intended target. And Carlos, Brett, and Ollie were ready when the
trio of bandits struck on the dusty red trail that led to Nacogdoches.

The
bandits were caught by surprise, but unfortunately, they were not captured
alive. Despite being outnumbered two to one, they fought back savagely, and all
three died in the barrage of gunfire that was exchanged.

The
victors did not emerge unscathed: Carlos was wounded slightly in his left
shoulder, Alejandro received a scratch near his temple, and one of the vaqueros
suffered a hand wound. But there was such jubilation at having at last rid the
district of the murderous rogues that the wounded were indifferent to pain.

Brett's
plan was not the only one that would prove to be successful—the instant Carlos
had left the del Torreses' ranch on Saturday, he had ridden for Nacogdoches and
a meeting with Constanza. His face contorted with fury he had faced her in the
privacy of her bedroom.

"It
has happened!" he snarled the moment he charged into the shadowy coolness
of the curtain-drawn room.
''They are betrothed!"

Clad
only in a shift of white linen, Constanza had sat up abruptly at his entrance.
At his words, her face paled and she closed her eyes in pain.

"So,"
she said numbly. "It has happened—we will now take steps to undo it."

"How?"
Carlos demanded furiously. "A betrothal, especially to my
tio
, is
almost as binding as marriage itself. Once he makes the announcement, nothing
short of dishonor will allow him to retract it."

A
rigid smile pinned to her mouth, Constanza replied calmly, "Then we will
just have to make certain that there is no announcement!"

"Fah!
Will this plan of yours work that quickly?"

Some
of the color had come back into her face, and languidly she reached for a
delicate peignoir lying at the foot of her bed. Shrugging into it, she rose and
crossed to a pine wardrobe set against one wall. "Yes," she replied
indifferently. "You will arrange for Sabrina to meet privately with me on,
say, Tuesday afternoon. I think the gazebo would suit my purposes
admirably."

"You
don't mean to harm her?" Carlos growled.

Constanza
sent him a look that made him uneasy. "Only because I do not want you to
kill Brett," she answered finally. Selecting a gown from the wardrobe, she
said over her shoulder, "You men are such fools—you think violence is the
answer to everything!"

'"I
want to know what this plan of yours is!" Carlos said dangerously.
"You will receive your gold. Now tell me what it is you have
planned."

Ignoring
him, Constanza said quietly, "On Tuesday you will see the plan
yourself." Her lips curved in a mirthless smile. "You must convince
Sabrina that it is imperative that she meet with me, that you mean to save her
from Brett's wicked scheme to marry her for her money."

Carlos
frowned blackly, and grasping Constanza by the shoulders, he shook her cruelly.
"Stop playing with me! Tell me! What can you possibly do to make Sabrina
change her mind?"

Unmoved
by his violence, Constanza stared coolly back at him, but eventually she said,
"Your Sabrina has pride. What do you think she would do if she were faced
with a woman carrying Dangermond's child ... a woman Dangermond had promised to
marry but had deserted to pursue her fortune instead?"

Carlos
sucked his breath in sharply, his black gaze raking her slender body.
"Who?" he inquired harshly. "Not you?"

Constanza's
lips twisted. "But of course, mi amigo! Who else?"

"You
are to bear his bastard?"

An
ugly laugh broke from Constanza. "Don't be a fool! Of course not! But your
Sabrina will not know it! And with a little padding here and there, my belly
discreetly evident, I shall throw myself on her mercy, pleading with her to release
him. Begging her to let him marry the one he loves, explaining how he has told
me that it is her money he hungers for, that what he really wants is to be with
me and our child!"

Admiration
filled his face. "It will work," he murmured, slowly.
"It will
work!"

Because
of the wound he had suffered in the battle with the bandits, it had been
decided that Carlos would spend the night at the del Torres hacienda, so it was
easy enough for him to have a private word with Sabrina on Monday evening. He
sought her out at dusk as she stood near the stables watching a pair of young
colts scamper and race around in a paddock with their mothers.

They
spoke quietly for some minutes of the events of the day, and it was only when
conversation began to languish that Carlos was able to broach the subject
uppermost in his mind. Watching Sabrina's lovely profile in the gathering
shadows, he said softly, "
Querida
, I must speak to you about this
betrothal—there is something that you must know."

She
turned to look at him, her face shuttered and guarded. "What?" she
asked flatly.

Carlos
appeared reluctant and uneasy. Regretfully he began, "I know that you do
not trust me as you once did, but you must believe that I have only your best
interests at heart." A wry expression flicked across his face. "You
know that I love you, but I could happily see you married to another if I knew
that he loved you as you deserve to be loved."

Sabrina
froze, her gaze locked painfully on his. "What do you mean?"

Carlos
glanced away and hesitated. Gravely he said, "As you are aware, I have
known Constanza Morales a long time—I visited with her Saturday evening, and
..." He stopped, and then, as if the words were dragged out of him, he
said heavily, "You must meet with her, Sabrina. There are things she must
tell you about the man you have promised to marry."

An
icy chill swept through Sabrina. In a low voice she demanded fiercely,
"What things? Why can't you tell me? And why should I meet with her?"

He
sent her a pitying look. "It is not for me to say. It is her secret, and
only she can tell you. She has asked me to implore you to meet with her
tomorrow afternoon at the gazebo by the lake—secretly. Most of all she doesn't
want Brett to know that she is seeing you."

"Why
not?" snapped Sabrina.

Again
Carlos sent her that pitying look. "Have you forgotten the girl in New
Orleans? Constanza is afraid of what he might do to her if he were to learn
that she wishes to see you."

Sabrina
was silent for a long time. Meeting with Constanza was the last thing in the
world that she wanted to do, but Carlos had touched upon painful subjects—the
girl in New Orleans and Brett's failure to mention love.

During
the past two days, she and Brett had had little time together and none of it in
private. She was badly in need of reassurance, needing Brett's strong arms
about her, needing to hear that he loved her, but this had been denied her. Her
betrothal to the man she loved, instead of bringing contentment and peace,
seemed to have created more dissension and uncertainty within her. One moment
she was filled with joy, the next full of misery and suspicion. She despised
herself for being so mean and small as to suspect Brett of having ulterior
motives for seeking her hand in marriage, and yet she was unable to ignore that
possibility.

Brett
had not helped matters either. He was strangely aloof, and on more than one
occasion lately, she had glanced up to find his assessing eyes on her. Whatever
she had thought being betrothed to Brett Dangermond would be like, she had
never imagined it would be this painful, this full of agonizing ambivalence.

Perhaps
she should meet Constanza, she thought wearily. Conceivably it would clarify
things in her own mind. Certainly it couldn't add to the painful battle that
was now being waged in her heart. Dully she said, "Very well. I'll meet
her. What time?"

"Two
o'clock?" Carlos suggested, the elation he felt carefully hidden.

Reluctantly
Sabrina nodded her bright head. Brett and her father were approaching, so
further conversation was impossible. The afternoon's events were mentioned, and
for the next several minutes the four of them talked of nothing else.

"It
is a shame that they all died!" Alejandro said slowly. "Now we will
never know where they have hidden their spoils. There wasn't time enough for
them to have disposed of the valuables stolen the night of Sabrina's birthday. Their
cache must be nearby . . . but it could be anywhere."

Brett
grimaced. "That was the one flaw in the plan—we made no allowances for
trying to recover the stolen objects." He hesitated, his eyes shadowed.
"I didn't believe they would fight to the death like they did. It wasn't
until Carlos killed that last one that I realized that the others were dead,
too." He looked rueful. "I suppose I thought we would capture them
and be able to question them."

Carlos
shrugged indifferently and then winced as his wounded shoulder made itself
felt. "I think most people will be satisfied with the way things turned
out. Granted they would all like to recover their valuables, but everyone will
rest easier knowing that those thieving devils are no longer alive."

"What
you say is true," Sabrina murmured quietly. "But it is so sad that
our friends and neighbors lost so many objects that meant so much to
them." Her fingers brushed against the huge gold hoop earrings that hung
near her cheeks. "I would pay three times what these are worth to recover
them if they were stolen. Bonita gave them to me, and I treasure them."

"I
know what you mean," Carlos said seriously. "Yesterday, after Mass,
Senora Galaviz, the trader's wife, could do nothing but bemoan the loss of the
lion's brooch that had belonged to her mother."

"Oh,
no!" Sabrina cried distressfully. "Not her lion's brooch! I remember
it so vividly—as a child when we would go into their store, she would show it
to me, pointing out the tiny emerald chips for the eyes and the ivory for its
teeth." Mournfully she added, "It was so lovely, so beautifully
designed, the gold so wonderfully wrought. I shall never forget it."

Glancing
beseechingly across at her father, she asked, "Isn't there any way we can
find the stolen things?"

Slowly,
regretfully, Alejandro shook his head. "No,
chica
Wherever the
bandits hid their treasures, that location would be known only to them—and they
are all dead. Trying to find their hideout, if they had one, would be
impossible in this wild, untracked area. Someday someone might stumble across
it, but not in our lifetime, I would wager."

Sabrina
still appeared unhappy, and Carlos said, "At least they are dead—they will
rob no one else."

It
was small comfort, but Sabrina took it, and the conversation wandered on to
other more pleasant subjects. Shortly thereafter, Brett firmly detached her
from the others, saying lightly, "You will excuse us? I have not had a
chance to talk alone with my
novia
since we became betrothed, and I wish
to discover if she is still of the same mind as she was then."

Sabrina
blushed, her heart suddenly pounding in her breast. Alejandro laughed, and
waving them away, admonished teasingly, "Do not be gone too long—I may be
an old man, but I remember what it was like to be young and in love."

Carlos
kept his features carefully bland as Brett and Sabrina walked away, but he
glanced down at the ground lest his eyes reveal his murderous rage. Tomorrow,
he thought savagely, cannot come soon enough.