Midnight Rider

“I won’t need to do that. My father has chosen two impoverished noblemen to do it for me.”

He studied her thoughtfully. “Don’t let him push you into anything you don’t want,” he said, suddenly vehement. “Life is far too short to be tied to a mate with whom you have nothing in common.”

“Fine words coming from you,” she shot back. “You let yourself be railroaded into marriage.”

His eyes narrowed. “I didn’t see it that way. I stand to inherit a fortune at my grandmother’s death, all the family lands and vineyards in Andalusia and my grandmother’s share of an inheritance. It was thought that an alliance with Consuela’s family would simply increase the inheritance for our children and therefore ensure the future prosperity of the entire family. But these days my grandmother looks with more favor on my cousin Luis, who also married to please her and who has a son.”

She stared at him blankly. “Would it hurt you to lose her money?”

He seemed hard at that moment, harder than she’d ever seen him.

“Not at all, if I could save my ranch. If I can’t, I might end up as a vaquero working for wages.” His eyes went dead. “I’d rather steal food than beg for it. An advantageous marriage would spare me that, at least.”

She was mildly shocked. “I never thought of you as an opportunist.”

He laughed coldly. “I’m not, as a rule. But lately I’ve become a realist,” he corrected.

“If you loved someone...”

“Love is a myth,” he said harshly, “a fairy tale that mothers tell their children. My grandmother told me that my parents weren’t in love while they lived together. I was fond of my wife, but I had no more love for her than she had for me. If you want to know what I think of as love, Bernadette, it has more to do with bedrooms than wedding bands.”

She gasped and put her hand to her throat. “Eduardo!”

His eyebrows levered up. “Don’t you know what I’m talking about, or are you as green as you look?”

“You shouldn’t speak of such things to me!”

“Why not? You’re twenty.” His eyes narrowed. “Haven’t you ever felt the fires burn inside you with a man? Haven’t you ever wanted to know what happens in the dark between a man and a woman?”

“No!”

He smiled mockingly. “Then your father is truly hoping for a miracle if he means to wed you to European nobility. You will be expected to do your duty, of course. A man needs a son to inherit the title. Or didn’t that thought occur?”

“I can’t... I won’t...have a child!” she said, shaken.

“Then what use are you to a titled nobleman?”

“As much use as I am to my father,” she agreed. “Absolutely none. But he won’t stop matchmaking.”

“Won’t he?” His eyes averted to the horizon thoughtfully. “Perhaps he will, after all.”

“Don’t tell me—you’ve come up with a way to save me!”

He chuckled. “I might have, at that.” He studied her curiously. “But you might think you’ve given up the frying pan for the fire.”

“How so?”

He put a hand on her thigh and watched her squirm and struggle to remove it.

“I want you,” he said curtly. “An alliance between us could solve my problems and your own.”

She colored. “You...want...me?”

“Yes.” He caught her gloved hand in his and held it tightly. “You knew it that day in the conservatory when we stared at each other so blatantly. You know it now. Perhaps it’s a less than honorable reason for two people to marry—that you need saving from a cold marriage and I need saving from bankruptcy. But in my house, Bernadette, at least you’d be independent.”

“And you would save your inheritance.” She eyed him curiously. “You know that I’m the bookkeeper for our ranch, don’t you, and that I can budget to the bone?”

He smiled slowly. “Maria sings your praises constantly. And even your father has to admit that you manage his affairs admirably.” His black eyes narrowed. “Your quick mind with figures would be an asset to me as well, Bernadette. And the fact that I find you desirable is a bonus.”

She watched him with renewed interest. “You didn’t have to ask me this way,” she said, thinking out loud. “You could have courted me and pretended to be in love with me to get me to marry you, and I’d never have known the difference.”

“Yes, I could have,” he agreed at once. “But I’d have known the difference. That’s a low, vile thing for any man to do, even to save his livelihood.” He let go of her hand. “I offer you an alliance of friends and a slaking of passions, when,” he added wickedly, “you have the courage to invite me into your bed. There are advantages and disadvantages. Weigh them carefully and let me know what you decide. But decide soon,” he added intently. “There isn’t much time.”

“I promise you, I’ll think about it,” she said, trying to suppress her delight.

He nodded. He smiled at her. “It might not be so bad,” he mused. “I have a way with women, and you need someone to make you take care of yourself, as well as independence from your father. It could be a good marriage.”

“I’d still be a bargain bride,” she pointed out, despite her embarrassment at his bluntness.

“With a Spanish master,” he murmured, and grinned. “But I promise to be patient.”

She colored again. “You wicked man!”

“One day,” he told her after he’d mounted his own horse, laughing softly, “you may be glad of that. Adiós, Bernadette!”

CHAPTER FOUR

BERNADETTE WAS OVER THE MOON about Eduardo’s incredible proposition, but now she had to find a way to implement it. Her father wasn’t even considering Eduardo anymore.

He still wanted a European nobleman for Bernadette, and he wasn’t going to quit until he had one. She gave up worrying about it and concentrated on finding ways and means to marry herself to the man she loved—although he’d admitted that he didn’t love her. Surely she loved him enough for both of them.

Meanwhile, her father’s two candidates had arrived, bag and baggage, along with several members of prominent families who were staying with the Barrons until the ball. The Culhanes had backed out at the last minute, apologetic about having some problems close to home that had to be addressed. They sent their regrets, but everyone else showed up.

Bernadette was already having problems with the German nobleman. Klaus Branner liked the looks of Bernadette and he became her shadow. He was in his late forties, blond and paunchy and shorter than she. The Italian was volatile and found Bernadette not at all to his liking, so he spent most of his time with her father, talking about guns and hunting.

Bernadette resented having to fight off the advances of the German, but her father made it clear that he wasn’t going to intervene.

“Eduardo doesn’t want you, he’s made that perfectly clear by his absence,” her father said doggedly when she complained about the amorous duke. He made a helpless gesture with his hand and wouldn’t look at her plaintive expression. “You’ll get...used to it,” he said stiffly, and went to rejoin his Italian friend.

But Bernadette didn’t get used to it. And it got worse. One day, the day before the ball, in fact, the German duke maneuvered Bernadette behind the Chinese screen in the living room and put his pudgy hands on her breasts.

She kicked him in the shin hard enough to make him cry out, and then she ran for the safety of her locked bedroom, weeping copiously with rage and the horrible revulsion she felt.

No longer could she bear the disgusting advances of her prospective bridegroom. If her own father wouldn’t defend her, there was nothing left to do except run away.

She dressed in her riding habit and boots, drew a blanket from the dresser and went out the window of her room. Casting a watchful eye around, in case her pursuer was anywhere nearby, she eased into the kitchen where Maria was working on the noon meal.

“Niña!” Maria exclaimed when she confronted her mistress dressed for the trail and carrying a colorful serape. “What are you up to?”