Golden Paradise (Vincente 1) Read online

Valentina was only half listening to her father. She could not believe they were leaving today. "I hardly got to see you, Father. Must you go today? Neither you nor Mother has had the chance to get to know Marquis."

  "I regret that, Valentina, but we have to leave. As a matter of fact, we must leave immediately," her father said, taking out his pocket watch and checking the time.

  Valentina felt very much as she had when her parents had left her in England—abandoned. She was now old enough to realize that though they loved her, they loved each other more. They were the kinds of people who should never have had children. Not that they did not love her—they just did not need her. She vowed at that moment that she would be a better parent to her children. She was going to make sure the child she now carried would always feel wanted.

  Pushing her unhappiness aside, Valentina smiled. "At least we can have breakfast together before you leave."

  "This is a strange house as far as meals are concerned, Ward," Evonne said. "As you have seen, there are two separate parts to the house. This wing is independent of the other, having its own kitchen—only the kitchen in this wing is not yet set up, so the food we eat is prepared in the main kitchen."

  Ward glanced at his daughter. "Can you live in this chaos?"

  "It won't be so bad once I make the kitchen operational. You see, Father, in the Vincente family, the heir apparent always brings his new bride to these quarters. Don't ask me why. It is just the tradition. You will find the Vincentes are steeped in tradition. Besides, who are you to talk about living in chaos? You and Mother thrive on upheaval."

  Valentina sent word by a servant that they would breakfast in the courtyard. When she went to the bedroom to see if Marquis wanted to eat with them, she found the room empty.

  She learned from Carlos that Marquis had ridden away and was not expected back until after dark. She wondered why Marquis had not told her his plans. She was disappointed that he was not going to dine with her family. Of course, Marquis had not known her family would be leaving today.

  Over breakfast the Barrett family laughed a lot. Ward Barrett told his family of his adventures aboard the Tradewind. Don Alonso later joined them and tried in vain to talk Valentina's mother and father into staying on a while longer.

  By the time Valentina's mother and father were ready to leave, Valentina had resigned herself to their going. She and Salamar walked with them to the waiting carriage, waving good-bye until they drove out of sight over the hill.

  "You seem in a strange mood, Valentina," Salamar observed. "I know you are grieving over your mother and father's hasty departure. They live their lives in haste. You know that."

  "It's not that, Salamar. I will miss them, but I know they will be happy together. Mother seemed to have miraculously recovered, and they are off on another adventure." Valentina turned her eyes on her maid. "The only thing that would have made me grieve is if you had gone with them, Salamar."

  "Only death will take me from you," Salamar said with feeling. She glanced at the hill where Valentina's mother and father had just disappeared. "I wonder how long they will be content to remain in England."

  Valentina laughed. "Father suddenly fancied himself a country squire. I think they will soon be bored with life in Cornwall. England will be too tame for them.'1

  Glancing toward the house where her future lay, Valentina wished her parents a happy life. They had each other, and that was all they would ever need.

  "Your mother never knew of the sacrifice you made on her behalf, Valentina. She never suspected that you were forced to dance at the Crystal Palace to buy her medicine."

  "Thank God she never knew where the money came from. No one but you, me, and Tyree will ever know my secret."

  Marquis had ridden to the top of a hill and dismounted, and there he watched his vaqueros rounding up strays in the valley below. The day was hot, and he moved his mount beneath the shade of an oak tree. He knew he should join his men, but he needed time to think about Valentina and Tyree. His heart ached, and there was an emptiness deep inside him.

  He heard a rider in the distance and glanced at the far ridge to see Isabel riding toward him. He had not seen her since that day in the barn. Now, as she drew even with him, her eyes stared boldly down at him.

  "Will you not help a lady down?" she asked, holding her hands out to him.

  Marquis gripped her waist and swung her to the ground. As his eyes assessed her, he found her more appealing than he had when they had been betrothed. Her red riding habit clung to her overripe curves. Her lips, the same red as her gown, were moist and inviting. The look in her eyes promised him anything he wanted.

  "What are you doing here, Isabel? You are a long way from home."

  "As a matter of fact, I was looking for you. I often visit your mother. She and I have become good friends." Isabel watched his face. "I am told by your mother that all is not well with you and your little wife."

  Marquis turned away from her searching eyes. "Has my mother become a gossip lately? I believe it does no one good to listen to foolish tales."

  Isabel moved closer to Marquis and ran her hand up his arm. "Are you saying you are happily married?"

  His eyes moved to the low cut of her bodice. From his angle he could see the dusky tips of her breasts. "I do not believe my marriage should be a concern of yours or my mother's."

  Her laughter was lusty, and she pressed her body close to his. "That is no answer at all." Her lashes swept her cheeks, and her tongue flicked out to moisten her lips. "Do you never wonder how it would have been between us, Marquis?"

  He grabbed her by the shoulders and crushed her in his arms. His lips bruised and punished. Striking out at her in his torment, he ground his mouth brutally against hers. Isabel moaned as her hands laced through his hair. This was what she had dreamed of for so long. Her body was burning with desire and need. Her intuition told her that when Marquis made love to her, he would fill the void that no other man had been able to fill.

  By midnight Marquis still had not returned to Paraiso del Norte. Valentina was beginning to be concerned. His leg was not healed well enough for him to be on it all day.

  As the clock ticked off the minutes, Valentina began to pace the floor. She tried to read a book but found herself jumping up at every noise. She considered asking Don Alonso to send some men to look for Marquis, but she decided against it.

  Finally, after one o'clock in the morning, Valentina fell asleep from exhaustion. She did not hear Marquis when he came in. She did not know he limped across the room to stand over her for a long time before he shook her by the shoulder to wake her.

  When Valentina opened her eyes sleepily, Marquis was leaning against the bed, unbuttoning his shirt. Jumping up, Valentina tried to help him, but he shoved her away. It took her a moment to realize he had been drinking.

  "I was worried about you, Marquis. You shouldn't have been on your leg all day."

  He tossed his shirt aside. "Why should you care?" he asked in a harsh voice.

  She reached out her hand to him. "I don't understand what you are saying. Of course I care. How could you doubt it? You know that—"

  "Spare me your demonstration of wifely devotion, Valentina. I am neither impressed, nor am I interested."

  Her face whitened, and she looked at him carefully. "You have been drinking, Marquis. Is that why you are—

  "Damned right I have been drinking. I had to get drunk before I could bring myself to come home and face you.

  Her heart skipped a beat. "I don't know what you mean. Did you think I would be upset because you had been gone all day? I was just worried that—"

  He held up his hand, silencing her. "You have not asked me where I have been." He staggered forward and fell on the bed. Valentina rushed to help him, but he shoved her away again. Pulling himself up on the pillow, he looked at her through narrowed eyelashes. "I have been with a real woman," he said, slurring his words. "Isabel knows how to make a man feel like a king. You make a man feel like a beg
gar."

  Valentina stepped back a pace, looking as if Marquis had struck her. This was not the Marquis she knew. Surely it was the liquor talking. "Are you ill?" she asked with concern. "Does your leg hurt?"

  "You are not listening to me, Valentina. I said I have been with a real woman."

  "I heard you, Marquis. I just don't believe you."

  He laughed sarcastically. "Do you think that you are so much woman that you can keep me tied to you? Do you know how I feel when I make love to you, knowing you are carrying another man's bastard? I feel sick inside."

  Valentina gasped with disbelief. "Tyree urged me to tell you the truth, but until now I didn't think it was a wise decision. Perhaps it's time I told you everything."

  The eyes that burned into her seemed to glow with hatred. "I do not want to hear anything you have to say about your baby or my friend Tyree. I just want you out of my sight, and out of my life."

  "Marquis, please listen to me. I realize I have made a mistake in not telling you about the baby—I know that now. I didn't realize how you felt. You seemed—"

  "I seemed like your puppet," he interrupted. "You had me in a daze, but I can see clearly now. I see you for what you are. I know all about you, Valentina."

  Her hand went to her throat, thinking Marquis was implying he knew she was Jordanna. "You couldn't know unless you overheard—"

  "Overheard you and Tyree in the garden," he finished for her. "You did not know I overheard your meeting with your lover, did you?"

  "Marquis, Tyree isn't my lover; he never has been. If you overheard us, you know that."

  "I do not want you in my life any longer, Valentina. I do not want to have to look at you while your belly swells with the child. You are welcome to stay on at Paraiso del Norte, but not where I can see you. I despise the sight of you.

  Valentina backed toward the door, wanting nothing more than to flee from the room. She felt like a wounded animal, needing to crawl off to lick her wounds.

  "Marquis, are you saying you want our marriage to end?" she asked, holding on to the last straw blowing in the wind.

  His lips curled in contempt. "Ours was a marriage built on lies. It is no marriage at all. Get out of my sight, Valentina!"

  Spinning around, Valentina wrenched open the door and fled down the hall. Deep sobs were building up inside her, and she clamped her hand over her mouth so they would not spill out. Running into her room, she closed the door and threw herself on the bed. She had never thought to see such malice directed toward her. Dear God, how Marquis must hate her!

  Crying into her pillow, Valentina felt her whole body tremble with emotion. Marquis had wounded her beyond reason. What had he thought he had overheard in the garden to make him turn on her this way? He had called Tyree her lover—surely he knew that was not true.

  Valentina sensed Salamar standing over her. Looking up at her with tears streaming down her face, she cried out, "Marquis doesn't want me anymore. He despises the sight of me. He thinks Tyree and I were lovers."

  Salamar dropped down on the bed and shook her head. "Did you tell him about the baby?"

  "He wouldn't let me. He's been drinking and said he doesn't want me near him. What shall I do?"

  "If he was drinking, he was not thinking clearly. I believe you should get a good night's sleep and talk to Marquis again in the morning."

  Valentina rose up on her elbow with a flicker of hope shining in her eyes. "Perhaps that would be best. I could tell him everything tomorrow. Would you go with me?"

  "You do not need me to help you save your marriage, Valentina."

  "I . . . Marquis said he was with Isabel today."

  Salamar's eyes snapped. "He what?"

  "He implied he had been . . . intimate with her. If he has, I will not stay with him, Salamar. I hope it was just the liquor making him say things he didn't mean."

  "Try to get some sleep now. It is not good for the baby if you get upset."

  "Everything will be all right in the morning, won't it, Salamar?" Valentina asked in an almost childlike whisper.

  "Let us hope so. Now let me help you into bed. You need rest for tomorrow."

  Long after Valentina had fallen asleep, Salamar sat beside her, staring into the night. She was fiercely protective of Valentina. No man, not even Marquis, was going to treat Valentina badly. Growing up in a harem, Salamar had seen too many women ill-used. She would never allow that to happen to Valentina. If Marquis was seeing Isabel Estrada, Valentina would not stay here and be humiliated.

  Marquis was not as drunk as he had led Valentina to believe. He now took a bottle from the side table and raised it to his mouth. He wished he could get drunk enough to forget the sight of Valentina in Tyree's arms. The image of them together had haunted him all day.

  He was also haunted by Jordanna. How could he be so attracted to two women? They were so different, yet both pulled the same emotions from him. God help him, he wanted them both. He also wanted the child Jordanna was carrying.

  The need to uphold family tradition ripped into his soul, tormenting him. What about his baby? What if it turned out to be a son?

  Valentina awoke to bright sunlight streaming into her room. Rushing to dress, she hurried down the corridor to Marquis's room, rapped lightly on the door, and entered on his command.

  He was already dressed and had his booted feet propped on a stool so that he could buckle on his silver spurs. His eyes met hers with cold indifference. "I trust you slept well, senora?" There was no warmth in his inquiry.

  Seeing he was having trouble fastening the spur because of his injury, Valentina dropped down in front of him to help. His icy glare made her pull back. "If I want your help, I will ask for it. In the future, you would do well to remember that. I told you last night to leave me alone."

  She stood up slowly, knowing he was cold sober today; therefore, he meant whatever he said. "I had hoped that it had been only the liquor talking last night, Marquis." She had to know what had changed him from lover to cold stranger. "Could we talk about whatever is bothering you?" she asked nervously.

  By now his spurs were in place and he stood up. "Yes, let us talk about what is bothering me. I might as well say it straight out so I will not have to repeat myself, I no longer require you to be my wife. You have been a bone of contention between me and my mother and, since your coming, have upset this house."

  Valentina could not believe his cruel words. Marquis had never loved her, but he had never before been deliberately cruel. He knew that his mother had been unreasonable since their marriage. It was not all Valentina's fault. "Are you asking me to leave, Marquise?”

  "You know what I want, Valentina. Do not make me say it.

  "I can't know unless you do say it. What have I done to turn you against me?"

  He shrugged his shoulders and turned toward the window. "You and I are not suited to each other. I thought I could live with the fact that you are carrying another man's child, but I find I cannot."

  "I believe it's time I told you the truth about the baby—"

  He spun around and faced her, his eyes blazing like fire. "Spare me the details, Valentina. Just get out of my sight."

  Valentina stared at him for a long moment. Then she raised her head, letting her pride carry her through this heartbreak. "If it is your wish, I will leave your house."

  She saw his eyes widen in surprise. "I did not say you had to leave Paraiso del Norte. I have merely decided to move to the other wing, giving you free reign here."

  "I see." Was her heartbreak showing? she wondered. Did she sound calmer than she felt? "What you mean is you can hide me away in a corner of your life and forget I exist."

  "I doubt I will ever forget you exist, Valentina." His tone implied he was handing her no compliment.

  It was too late to tell Marquis that he was her child's father. He would never believe her now—he would think she was making it up to stay in his good graces. "Do you wish to put an end to the marriage?"

  He avoided
her eyes. "I am a Catholic."

  "I'm not."

  He raised his brow. "I never knew that."

  "There are a lot of things you don't know about me, Marquis. You never bothered to ask."

  He shrugged his shoulders. "Be that as it may, I will not be finding out now, will I?"

  "Should I look forward to years of being held prisoner in this wing of the house?"

  He pulled on his leather gloves and brushed past her. "You will be free to come and go as you will. Today Carlos will transfer my belongings to the other wing of the house."

  Valentina could not believe it was all ending like this. What had brought it on? "Marquis, why are you doing this? I thought—"

  His eyes narrowed. "You thought that I was a fool, Valentina. You thought you would use me to give your baby a name."

  Her anger was stirred now. "As I recall, it was you who asked me to marry you, Marquis. I never pursued you."

  "Well . . . anyone can make a mistake."

  Her silver eyes were dancing with dangerous lights. "If this is your way of saying you cannot live without Isabel, why don't you just come out and say it. You said you were with her last night—if she is what you want, you are free of any obligations to me."

  Marquis's voice caught in his throat as he watched her eyes come alive with fury. He wanted to rush across the room and beg her to stay with him at any price. He loved her, and he wanted her more than ever. Hating this weakness he had for her, he hardened his heart. "Let us leave Isabel out of this. When a man has had too much to drink, he often says things he does not mean."

  Marquis held the door open, silently indicating that Valentina should leave. She moved across the room like one in a dream—a nightmare. There was no reality in what was happening. Marquis wanted her out of his sight and out of his life, and her pride would help her do what had to be done. She would never stay where she was not wanted.

  "Good-bye, Marquis," she said, stopping in the doorway and glancing up at him.

  His dark gaze moved across her face. "Not good-bye, Valentina. Even though this is a big house, we still live under the same roof. I suppose we will cross each other's path from time to time."