Midnight Rider

She felt very old as she went to get her hat and gloves. She had few choices left now, but she was going to get out of her father’s life. She couldn’t bring herself to marry a European. She would love to marry Eduardo. But that, despite her father’s curious interest in the subject, was unlikely. Eduardo’s aversion to a second marriage was well-known to everyone. Her father would never persuade him to go through with such a venture, and certainly she wasn’t going to be able to seduce their neighbor into marriage with her pitiful assets.

Still, letting her father think it could happen might keep him from pressuring her about his other candidates.

For an instant, she let herself dream about how it would be to marry Eduardo and openly show her love for him, to be loved by him in return. She felt a powerful physical attraction to him that was profoundly augmented by the deep love she felt for him. He had no such interest in her, although he seemed to find her physically attractive.

She wondered if she could really heighten that interest. She knew very little of men, but she was a great reader of forbidden books, and she did know how to dress and behave in public. Some of the girls at her exclusive finishing school in New York had talked quite candidly about their relationships with men. But Bernadette, while spirited, was a novice. Eduardo could do anything to her, and she dared not lure him into a position where she might fall from grace.

But the mere thought that he might be willing to marry her was so intriguing a proposition that her heart was skipping beats. It was the first time she’d been able to see marriage as a real possibility in her life. Despite her father’s manipulations, she might permit herself to be convinced. If Eduardo was interested in marrying her at all, she might be the very person who could help him reorganize his ranch and make it show a profit. Her father didn’t like being reminded that she’d saved him from a drastic financial loss once, several years before when she first took over the enormous task of overseeing the accounts after the resignation of their bookkeeper. Her father had liked the idea of not paying an outsider, or allowing a stranger to see his assets. But whether Eduardo would want to marry her, even for her father’s money, remained to be seen. It also gave her hope that, if she had courage, her wildest dreams might come true.

CHAPTER THREE

BERNADETTE FOUND HERSELF IN the exclusive Meriwether’s Dry Goods Store with no clear idea of what she was going to buy.

The brother of the owner, Mr. Clem Meriwether, who’d been the head clerk for as long as Bernadette could remember, met her at the door with a wide smile.

“Lovely to see you again, Miss Barron,” he said formally. “What can I help you with today?”

“My father sent me for a ball gown, Mr. Meriwether,” she said. “I don’t quite know—”

“But I have just the thing!” He chuckled as he led her inside. “And what a coincidence that it should arrive today. It’s from Paris, an original design which was intended for one of the Carson girls in Fort Worth, but she declined to accept it, and it was sent to us on consignment. I had no idea that anyone here would want it. We’re so distant from real society...” He turned and his ears seemed to go red. “Begging your pardon, miss, I never meant that your father wasn’t social or anything!”

“Think nothing of it, Mr. Meriwether,” she said with a gentle smile. “I didn’t take offense.” She didn’t think it prudent to add that her father would have gone right through the roof and canceled his account if he’d heard what the nice man had said.

“We heard about this ball he’s giving next month. Is it true that the Culhanes are coming all the way from El Paso?”

“Well, the parents, anyway,” she amended. “We understand that two of the three sons are vacationing together on a cruise, leaving one behind to watch the ranch property.”

“Still, it’s something of an honor for any of the Culhanes to travel so far for a party, yes?”

“Yes, it is,” she had to concede. “They’re staying at the ranch for a week, of course, along with the other guests.”

“Any other Texans on the guest list?” he probed gently as he took an elegantly trimmed box from a shelf.

“I’m not really sure,” she replied. “Father’s kept very quiet about his guest list. I think he wants to surprise me,” she added with just the right touch of mischief.

“That’s understandable. Is it your birthday?”

She shook her head. “It’s no real occasion,” she lied, not wanting to admit that her father was holding the ball primarily to auction off his daughter to the man with the most impressive title. “Just Father’s idea of a summer diversion, although he is saying that it’s a celebration of his new railroad acquisition.”

“So much the better.” He put the box down on the counter, opened it with a flourish and drew out the most exquisite gown Bernadette had ever seen in her life. She stopped breathing at the sight of it.

He chuckled. “No need to ask if you like it. If you’ll wait a moment, Miss Barron, I’ll get my wife to come and help you try it on.”

He stepped to the back of the store and called for Maribeth, a small, cheerful woman who came right along, drying her hands on a cloth.

“I’ve been putting up bread-and-butter pickles, Miss Barron. I’ll save you two or three jars for when you come next time.”

“Why, thank you!” Bernadette said, surprised by the offer.

“It’s nothing at all. Now, let me help you with this dress. Isn’t it lovely? And Clem never thought anyone around here would need such a grand gown! It’s actually from Paris, France, you know!”

The little woman babbled on as she led Bernadette back to the makeshift fitting room and helped her into the gown. It took a while, because there seemed to be a hundred tiny buttons to fasten. But once the gown was on, Bernadette knew that she’d have sold anything she owned to get enough money to buy it.

It was white, a delicious concoction of soft material that fell to her ankles in layers of lace and georgette, festooned by pink silk flowers and tiny blue bows. The bodice was draped with the same soft georgette and tiny puffed sleeves echoed the motif. Her shoulders were left bare and the tops of her pretty breasts were just visible. It was a seductive dress without being vulgar. Bernadette looked at herself in the mirror with pure awe.

“Is that me?” she asked, her heart pounding with excitement.

“Oh, my, yes,” Mrs. Meriwether said with a sigh. “What a delightful fit, and how it suits you! You must leave your hair down and tie it in back with a pink silk ribbon, my dear. I’ll show you how.”

“I’ve never worn my hair down,” she said doubtfully.

“It will be perfect with this gown. Here. Let me show you.”

She took down Bernadette’s elaborate coiffure and replaced it with a simpler one, offset by the pink satin ribbon she made from a length of the silky material. “There,” she said when she finished. “Do you see what I mean? It’s perfect with the dress.”

“Indeed it is,” Bernadette had to admit. She looked young and elegant and somehow vulnerable. She almost looked pretty. She smiled at herself and was surprised by the change it made in her rather ordinary features.

“And a fan to go with it,” the little woman was mumbling. “Where did I put that silk one...aha!”

She produced a fan so pretty that Bernadette fell in love with it at once. It was made of pale pink silk with elegant patterns of flowers, outlined in ivory lace. It was the most beautiful fan she’d ever seen.

“And these gloves, and that little purse. You’ll need shoes. Let’s see what we have....”

It was the most exciting hour of Bernadette’s life. By the time she had her purchases wrapped up and was ready to leave, she felt as if she’d been let out of prison. The ball would be the crowning glory of her life, despite her father’s matchmaking. She couldn’t wait to see the look on Eduardo’s face when he saw her!

* * *

HER FATHER DIDN’T TRUST Bernadette to make the arrangements for his ball, so he’d assigned them to Mrs. Maude Carlisle, a former social secretary to one of the Astors in New York, and the wife of a prominent retired army officer in San Antonio. Mrs. Carlisle was staying with friends in Valladolid for several weeks and she was overjoyed to help Mr. Barron plan his grand fete.

She knew exactly how to go about organizing things on a monumental scale, and she set to work at once. Two weeks later, she’d alienated half the staff on the Barron ranch. This didn’t bother Colston one bit. But Bernadette was overwhelmed with complaints. Everyone including Maria cried on her shoulder while the painstaking arrangements were made. There was a bakery to cater the confections, a local cook to cater the finger foods for the hors d’oeuvre table and flowers purchased from a greenhouse. No detail was overlooked or left undone. Bernadette did her best to stay out of the way of the ongoing madness.

She put on her riding skirt and had the stable boy saddle her pretty bay mare for her. She’d just mounted when her father came into the barn.

“And where are you going?” he demanded. “Mrs. Carlisle needs you to talk to Maria about the dinnerware.”

“Why?” she asked with some surprise.

“Maria’s suddenly forgotten how to speak English, that’s why!”

Silently, Bernadette applauded her friend’s initiative. That was one way to get around Mrs. Carlisle. “You know I don’t speak Spanish,” she lied without meeting his eyes. Actually, she’d kept her knowledge of that tongue a secret from her father as well as Eduardo, because it gave her a definite advantage when dealing with her father. She could talk to the staff in their own language whenever she liked. He couldn’t. He spoke only Gaelic and English.

“You could convince Maria at least to talk to the poor woman!”

“I’m going riding, Father,” she said. “I must get some fresh air in my lungs.”

He glared at her with suspicion. “You’re running away. It won’t do any good. Klaus Branner and Carlo Maretti are due here tomorrow on the train from Houston.”

Her heart jumped and she felt suddenly sick. “I’ve told you how I feel about this,” she said stiffly.