Page 26 of Sweet Savage Love
26
W ith Steve gone on some mysterious errand to Mexico City, Ginny had almost too much time in which to think and torture herself with questions and doubts. She hated him! She had told him so, crying with vexation, when he had stopped by the little house very early in the morning, dressed quite incongruously as a Mexican peasant.
Why did he always have to be so mysterious? And if his business concerned her, why couldn’t he tell her about it? What did he intend to do about her? She stormed him with questions, none of which he would answer. He told her to be patient, and finally, driven into a rage, he had told her coldly that she was turning into a shrew and he would be glad to be rid of her.
“Unfortunately,” he said between clenched jaws, “my cousin Renaldo has reminded me that I am, in part, responsible for you. He agrees with you that I’m a dishonorable wretch for having kidnapped you in the first place. Well, believe me, I’ve had time to regret that precipitate action of mine! I’m afraid I’ve lived away from civilization too long, I’m used to taking what I want.” His hands had bruised her shoulders. “As soon as I return, Ginny, I’ll see about taking you back. You’ll finally be free—and by God, so will I!”
Even Renaldo’s quiet presence was no consolation to Ginny that day. She hated Steve—she hoped that he would never return—she hated herself for her own body’s sensuality and weakness. He hated her too, of course! Obviously, it was only physical desire that formed the strange, unmentionable bond between them. It had been that, and nothing else that had attracted her to him in the first place. But how dared he deposit her here so casually and then ride away? Why decide to set her free only when he had already brought her into the very heart of Mexico? For what secret purpose had he planned to use his captivity of her?
By the afternoon of the second day, the tumult in Ginny’s mind had subsided into a sullen resignation. There was nothing to do now, but to wait. How she hated it, having to endure everything he forced upon her. She was reminded of the endless-seeming days she had spent in El Paso, locked in the small room above Lilas’ fancy saloon. Here, at least, she had freedom of a sort, and Renaldo’s companionship, but how, and when would it all end?
Ginny had taken a book out into the patio, but it was impossible to concentrate on reading, and besides, she had read this book, a novel by Alexandre Dumas, before. She needed movement, the blowing of fresh air against her face. If only she could persuade old Manuel to saddle up the mare! Ginny frowned, then, thinking with a feeling of annoyance that he would probably stammer and hang his head—make some excuse. He’d probably tell her again that it was dangerous—she did not know the country, and besides the Senor had expressly forbidden that she go riding alone.
She’d been told this before, but when she’d protested sharply to Renaldo, he had, for once, agreed with Steve.
“It’s not proper for a young lady to go anywhere alone. This is a country of duennas, I’m afraid!”
Only consideration for Renaldo’s feelings had prevented Ginny from retorting bitterly that she would hardly be considered a lady if her real position here were known.
Now, she wished that Renaldo were home. But this morning he had explained rather apologetically that he would be busy all day going over accounts. She had seen him leave, and had wondered rather curiously whose books he was going over. But then, Renaldo was kindhearted, helping everyone. Look how much he had done for her, and for her drooping morale!
I suppose, if I put my mind to it, there are any number of things I could find to occupy myself with, Ginny mused. Soon afterwards she thought impatiently that she was really far too lazy, and it was too hot. I’m going to end up fat and lethargic, insisting on my siesta each day, if this goes on much longer! she scolded herself. She had laid her book on the wooden table beside her chair, and now, determinedly, she picked it up and began to read. But in a short while her mind had begun to wander again.
Renaldo had many books written in French in his library. She remembered that he had told her he’d visited France some years ago. “I had to take the grand tour,” Renaldo had said deprecatingly. “My father was alive then, and he insisted upon it.” Ginny wondered if it had been Renaldo who had taught Steve French. In some ways, Steve reminded her of the character D’Artagnan—but then he was by no means as polished a gentleman, nor gallant. He was not a gentleman at all; his manners were like a very thin veneer, cracking easily and often to reveal the savagery underneath.
The sound of horse’s hooves, pounding at a furious gallop and obviously coming closer, startled Ginny into dropping her book again. Her eyes widened curiously as a horse dashed into the small clearing and its rider began to give a demonstration of fine horsemanship as she controlled the animal with her gloved hands, finally bringing it to a rearing halt only a few feet away from Ginny, who had instinctively risen to her feet.
The rider, a girl, smiled down at her rather mockingly.
“Were you afraid that Ilario would crush you with his hooves?” she demanded in heavily accented English. A look of barely controlled disappointment flashed in her dark eyes when Ginny shrugged and shook her head coolly, studying her unexpected visitor with some curiosity.
“Was I supposed to be frightened? You appeared to be an excellent rider, and perfectly able to control your animal.”
“Yes, I do ride well. Everyone says so!”
Laughing a little in a pleased fashion, the girl dismounted gracefully, and stood facing Ginny, her eyes openly appraising.
Something about her bold, almost rude stare made Ginny uncomfortably aware of her own rather dishevelled appearance. Because of the heat she had dressed casually this morning, finding the loose camisa and colorful skirt of Mexico far more suited to its climate than the voluminous skirts and long sleeves of her other clothes. On her feet, she wore huaraches ; again, the coolest and most comfortable footgear she could find.
Her visitor, on the other hand, seemed almost overdressed in her dark purple riding habit that was exquisitely cut to show off a figure of almost voluptuous maturity. And yet, close-up, the girl was much younger than she had appeared even at first. She appeared to be about fifteen or sixteen and had dark, wide-set eyes and straight, dark brown hair that was tied back with a wide velvet ribbon that exactly matched her riding habit. Privately, Ginny considered the color far too old for a girl so young…almost in self-defense she was studying her as openly as her visitor studied her own appearance.
“I am Dona Ana,” the girl said abruptly. She gave an unexpected, short laugh, and looked more like a child for a moment. “I’ve run away from my duenna —on purpose, so that I could see you!”
Without ceremony she perched herself on the edge of a chair, not bothering to hide the look of open curiosity on her face.
“You are not in the least as I expected you to be,” she went on, pulling the small, flat velvet hat from her head and tossing it carelessly on the table. “In fact, I might as well tell you that you are very different from the way I’d pictured you!”
Ginny forced herself to sit down, and answer the girl calmly, feigning a composure she hardly felt.
“Oh, indeed? And may I ask what you expected to find?”
The girl put her head on one side and seemed to consider.
“Well, for one thing, you are a little younger than I’d expected. And you don’t paint your face. But I suppose Renaldo would not like that. He is such a stuffy and conventional type of man!” She burst out giggling. “At least, that is what everyone thought up until now, of course. Who would have thought it of Renaldo!”
Ginny’s fingers curled in her lap from the sudden desire she felt to slap this girl’s impudent, smiling face. But she forced herself to speak calmly.
“You seem to know a lot about me. Suppose you tell me who you are? All I can assume, of course, is that you’re very young indeed, and that you must have come here for some reason besides idle curiosity. Surely you don’t intend to keep me in suspense?”
A trifle disconcerted by Ginny’s unexpected attack, and the coolly controlled tone of her voice, Ana had begun to flush rather angrily, and to look disconcerted.
“I’ve already told you my name, and why I came. Hasn’t Renaldo told you anything at all about his family? I must say, he’s surprised and shocked everybody! Who would have thought that Renaldo would suddenly decide to keep a mistress, and particularly a gringa! ”
For a moment, Ginny was too angry and too dumbfounded to speak. Her green eyes narrowed dangerously, and her hands clenched into fists. This girl was not only rude and mannerless, but her contemptuous insinuations were too much to bear! To think that she thought Ginny was poor Renaldo’s light of love! And how like Steve, to arrange things so cleverly that everyone would think thus!
Ana seemed pleased at Ginny’s sudden and unexpected silence. Clearly, she thought she’d thrown her into a state of confusion by her bluntness. Now she leaned forward, her voice condescending.
“You need not fear that I’ll tell el patrón. I can be discreet, sometimes! And besides,” she said carelessly, “I’m sure he would not approve of my being here, and nor would my duenna. ”
“And who, ” Ginny’s voice was only barely controlled, she felt that her whole face had gone stiff with anger so that she could hardly produce the words, “is el patrón?”
She saw Ana’s stare of surprise.
“You ask me that? Why, everybody knows Don Francisco! You’re living on his land, after all, and lucky for you that he…oh!” Childlike, her attention was easily distracted, and she had snatched up Ginny’s book and was staring at it, frowning.
“You were reading a book written in French?” Her voice sounded incredulous; looking up she caught Ginny’s flashing eyes and her own became rather spiteful. “Oh, perhaps at one time—before—you were a governess? Is that how Renaldo met you?”
“Perhaps if you had had a governess she might have improved your manners,” Ginny said forcibly. She jumped to her feet, too angry to stay seated. “You really are a most provoking child,” she went on, not caring that Ana’s eyes had slitted, almost like a cat’s. “But then, I suppose you were deliberately trying to be so. Why? Don’t they teach children their manners here?”
“How dare you speak to me like that!” Like an angry feline, Ana, too, sprang to her feet. She faced Ginny with her eyes spitting fury. “Don’t you know who I am? I’m no child, I’m betrothed already, to the heir of el patrón. Why, I’ll be the richest, most envied woman in the whole province when we marry—which is more than you can ever hope for, a woman of your type.”
“You insufferable, spoiled brat! It takes a woman to recognize what type another woman is, and as for being married, believe me I feel nothing but pity for the poor man who’s forced to marry you!”
Ginny felt her cheeks burn with rage, and she wasn’t in the least bit afraid when she saw Ana’s gloved hands tighten over the handle of her braided leather riding quirt.
The girl’s voice shook with uncontrollable rage.
“Why you—you puta! Yes, that is what you are, I heard tia say so! A fallen woman, she said—a gringa puta —to think I had actually begun to feel sorry for you!”
“Well, don’t waste your pity, little girl,” Ginny snapped. She drew in a deep breath and tried to calm herself. “I really am surprised that an apparently well-brought-up child should use such language, and especially to a guest,” she went on more coolly than she felt. “Why don’t you make sure of the facts before you start flinging your ridiculous, insolent accusations around? I might as well call you a little trollop because you’re here unchaperoned, and show an obvious lack of breeding and manners as well!”
“Oh, oh! How dare you?” Ana’s voice was shrill with rage, she looked like an angry tigress. “When I tell Don Francisco, he’ll have you whipped! Yes, and your precious Renaldo will be in trouble too, for bringing you here and flaunting you in the faces of everyone as his mistress.”
The girl’s rage gave Ginny the advantage and she pressed it home with a small, sarcastic smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Since I don’t know who this mysterious Don Francisco is, I see no reason to be afraid of him,” she said reasonably. “But since you appear terrified at the thought of his rage, perhaps you’d better leave before someone catches you here and gives you the spanking you deserve.”
“You—slut! Don’t talk to me that way!” Almost sobbing with fury, Ana had actually raised her riding crop, but Ginny snatched it from her, and saw fear spring into the girl’s tear-filled eyes.
“I’m both taller and stronger than you are,” Ginny said grimly. “And I’m in no mood to endure any more of your rudeness.”
Ana gave a small shriek as Ginny put her hand out and pushed her back into a chair; standing over her with the quirt held in both hands.
“You wouldn’t dare strike me!” she whimpered. “Don Francisco would—oh, and I’d tell my novio too, he is very fierce, and always wears a gun—he’d kill you without blinking an eyelid, he can be muy diabolico! ”
“Well, I’m not afraid of either Don Francisco or your silly, diabolical fiancé,” Ginny retorted. “And you’ll just sit quietly for a few minutes and listen to what I have to say without interruptions, or I will use this whip on you! I can be just as fierce as any man.”
“I won’t listen, there’s nothing you can say to me that I want to hear,” the girl muttered sullenly. “You’d better let me go—even Renaldo will not be happy when he hears of this!”
“Then tell me, why are you here? Is it because you are fond of listening to servants’ gossip and wanted to have something to add to it? Or were you sent here by someone?”
“I wasn’t sent—I wasn’t! And I don’t listen to servants’ gossip either! But Renaldo—no one could believe it of Renaldo! I had to see for myself. Especially,” the girl added sulkily with a sidelong glance filled with hate, “since my own novio has been seen here too—I was told he’s often gone riding with you—I wanted to see what kind of a woman you were.”
A terrible suspicion had started to build up in Ginny’s mind; she felt as if she was beginning to have a nightmare. All the same it would not do to let this silly chit of a girl see her shock and growing dismay—she forced her voice to remain even with an effort.
“You’ve seen what kind of woman I am—I’m not to be trifled with, and I am not Renaldo’s mistress, whatever your gossips may say. And as for your novio, whoever he might be, let me tell you that the only other man I’ve been out riding with happens to be the same despicable outlaw who abducted me and brought me here by force! And I cannot possibly believe that a little girl like you would be allowed by her family to become engaged to a man like Steve Morgan. A professional gunfighter—a murderer and a thief and even worse! Oh, no, it’s just not possible! He’s worse than a wild beast, he’d swallow you up in one mouthful!”
“Be silent! Be silent at once! I will not listen to any more of your lies!”
Springing to her feet, Ana actually stamped her foot in rage.
“How dare you speak so about Esteban? How dare you say such terrible things about him? It’s only because he isn’t here to defend himself that you talk this way—he would never bring a woman of your kind here—why, ever since I was a child it’s been understood that we were to be married some day, only the other day Don Francisco was speaking to my father about it—he said…he said…oh, you’re a horrible, horrible woman, a lying slut, and I don’t want to look at your face any longer!”
“Then leave at once, before I lose my temper. Remember, I didn’t invite you here.” Ginny flung the riding crop at the girl, who promptly gave a small scream of fear and anger.
Grabbing it, she turned and ran for her horse, sobbing with frustration.
“You’ll be sorry—you’ll see!” she shrieked over her shoulder.
But Ginny had already whirled about and was running for the house, hardly able to breathe for the rage that boiled up inside her.
Even when she had reached the haven of her bedroom, and had flung herself across the bed, she found it impossible to control her feelings. Anger, humiliation, and above all, a searing hatred for Steve Morgan, who had brought her here, placing her in this impossible situation without a thought for the consequences. She pounded her fists against the pillows, longing to scream out loud. How sordid it all was! He was actually engaged to be married—Steve, who had stated so many times that he had no desire to be tied down to any one woman. And he had had the colossal nerve to bring her here, with his fiancée living close by. What had he hoped to achieve? Why had he done it?
She was working herself up into a fine state, and she knew it, but didn’t care. To think he’s told me so many lies! He had no qualms about taking my virginity, but I’m sure he hasn’t even touched that spoiled little girl. No doubt her parents are very rich—he’d be the kind of man who’d look out for a big dowry. But why did he bring me here, except to humiliate me even more? And to make matters worse, he’s gone off somewhere, leaving me here to face everything alone…oh God, what will I do now? Where’s Renaldo? Why doesn’t he come?
Ginny had not cried for a long time, but now the tears gushed from her eyes uncontrollably and her body was shaken by sobs. Rosa came rushing in, full of questions, trying to console her, but it was impossible. Her face worried, the woman sat by Ginny until her sobs trailed away and she lay in a kind of stupor of exhaustion. Gentle, then, Rosa undressed her. She brought towels, and a small copper bowl filled with cold water, and began to sponge the girl’s tear-swollen face and perspiring body.
It was such a pity, such a shame! In spite of her loyalty to the Alvarados, Rosa found herself muttering under her breath. Don Esteban should have known better! It was clear to see that this one was a lady—and so beautiful too! How could he treat her so? She knew, of course, of Dona Ana’s visit. A nasty little spitfire she was. And spoiled by her parents. By el patrón too, because he had been the one to arrange for a marriage between the girl and his grandson. Rosa could not help shuddering when she wondered what el patrón would do when he found out. Because of course Dona Ana would go straight to him. What would he do?