Lianne blanched at the reference to Daniel. Dominguez continued, unaware he had struck a nerve in her.
“My housekeeper is a friend of Isabelle's maid, Sophia. When Sophia learned the news of her employer's death, she fainted.”
“Señora Hidalgo's gentleman, the artist you mentioned, must be taking the news of her death very hard.”
Dominguez shook his head. “I can't really say. No one has seen him since he left for Pachuca with Isabelle Hidalgo. It's very strange that her body was found and not his.”
He sighed and left Lianne standing in his office when he was called to tend to a matter concerning the scenery. Tremors erupted within her like tiny earthquakes. Daniel had left for Pachuca with Isabelle, but his body hadn't been found. Where was he? Had his attackers taken him away, or had he crawled off somewhere to die?
Lianne couldn't stop trembling as she put her hands over her face. Tears formed in the emerald depths of her eyes. Suppose Daniel was dead? She didn't know if she could face life if he were truly gone. She'd never see his face again. She knew he didn't love her, but just to know he was nearby had helped her to go on with her life. The prospect of never seeing him again tore through her until she fell into a chair and wept for what had been and what would never be.
Stupido!
Imbecile!” Raoul ranted and paced the floor of his study like a man possessed.
Diego waited. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his tiny eyes held true fear. Never had he seen Raoul so enraged and he didn't believe the fact that his wife was Raoul's daughter would save him from whatever punishment Raoul decided to mete out for him. Diego wondered how this had happened. He had thought the artist was dead.
“I thought you told me Flanders was dead when you and those idiots you hired left.” Raoul rasped and sounded like the devil himself to Diego.
“He seemed to be dead, Raoul. We stabbed him many times. I know the driver and Isabelle died instantly⦔
“I don't care about them! I wanted Flanders dead. Now, tell meâwhere is he? Did a dead body just crawl away into the mountains?”
“No. He was dead, I tell you.”
“Did you check him to be certain?”
“Raoul, Flanders was cloaked in blood. If he wasn't dead he crawled off somewhere to die. Believe me, he is dead.”
Raoul wasn't easily pacified by Diego's comment. “And if he isn't?”
Diego smiled a bit too bravely for a man who was facing a human devil. “Then he will be soon.”
“Bah! Your promises and brave talk leave me cold.” Raoul threw himself into the chair behind his desk. “You and those idiots you hired must scour the countryside. I want Daniel's body found. Do you understand?”
“
SÃ,
” Diego said and shook as the hard glittering eye impaled him.
Raoul waved him away. “Get out of my sight.”
After Diego left, Raoul wondered if nothing would go the way he planned. Of course Lianne was his wife and a pleasure in bed, but she didn't love him. He thought once she knew Daniel Flanders was dead, she'd begin to care for him in the way he knew she could if she let herself. She had mentioned Isabelle's death in passing when she arrived home from the opera yesterday. But she hadn't spoken about Daniel, and she must have known he had accompanied the woman. Somehow Lianne had made her face a blank. He hadn't a clue as to her thoughts.
But if Daniel Flanders were still alive, he'd soon be dead.
Later in the week, the mutilated body of a young man, apparently of the same height and weight as Daniel, was found by a shepherd in the mountains, not far from where the murders had occurred. Lianne was so overcome with grief that she wasn't even shocked when Raoul offered to claim the body and bury it. She only knew as she stood over the black coffin at the cemetery that the man she loved was dead. The father of her child was dead. She could barely speak, barely think. Otherwise, she'd have wondered why Raoul was suddenly so solicitous.
“
Querida
, you must stop mourning so hard,” Raoul chastised her days later.
Lianne lay in bed, unable to summon the energy to get up though it was well past noon. She had even stopped performing, her grief was so great.
“I don't feel well.” She offered Raoul a lame excuse.
He stood at the foot of the bed, hands clasped behind him. “I think I know what will get you up and about, my dove.”
She looked at him, uncaring.
“Would you like for me to send for your daughter?”
“Désirée?” She mouthed the name in disbelief.
“Have you more than one child?” Raoul grinned.
“You'd do that for me?”
“
SÃ
, and much more, Lianne. Anything you wish is yours.”
Coming to sit beside her, he took her hand, then tenderly kissed her lips. “Don't you know how much I love you?”
She was beginning to and this surprised her. She knew she had his passion, that he was in love with her, but she had no idea he loved her so deeply.
“I can't believe you'd send for her,” she remarked, not able to answer him. She was afraid he'd ask her if she loved him, and at that moment she couldn't tell him she didn't and never would. She wanted her child with her!
“A child should be with its mother. I'll write to Dera and request the child be sent immediately.” He grew quiet, then continued. “I shall inform her about Daniel.”
“
Merci
, Raoul,” she said, her voice breaking.
He kissed her again before he left the bedroom.
She watched the closed door, unable to believe she'd soon have her child with her. Daniel's child. She hoped Désirée still resembled him. At least there was a living, breathing reminder of him.
Suddenly life seemed brighter. She rose from the bed and rang for Josephine. Daniel might be dead, but he'd always live in her heart, even if he had humiliated her. She had loved him, would always love him. The child was the bond which connected her to him in life and in death. But she must start to live again. Soon her child would be with her, and she had much to do before Désirée arrived.
Carmen sat in the
sala
of the luxuriously furnished house of Diego Gonzalez. She couldn't think of it as hers though they had been married for almost three months. She watched him from the corner of her eye while she counted the stitches of the sampler in her lap. He sat cross-legged on the tiled floor with a kitten on his knee, stroking the poor creature so roughly that Carmen breathed a sigh of relief when the animal managed to wiggle free of his hold and scamper onto the patio into the darkness.
Diego was rough with animals and people. She'd attest to that. He had a mean, sadistic streak. More than once she'd endured a slight beating when she didn't please him, and it seemed as the marriage wore on, she pleased him less and less.
His monkey face grinned when she looked directly at him at one point, and Carmen shivered. Holy Mother, she thought to herself, protect me. She knew that look.
“You're the picture of domestic bliss,” he told her.
Her hand shook as she pushed the needle through the fabric.
“Gracias,”
she said.
Diego laughed loudly and sounded like a hyena. “Such a quiet girl you are, Carmen. Have you any thoughts in your head? If so, I should like to hear them.”
She had plenty of thoughts, but most of them concerned how much she hated Diego; and she hated her father for forcing her to marry such a detestable man.
“I think only about making a good home.”
Diego stood up. His shirt was opened at the neck to reveal a stubble of dark hair. He had rolled up his sleeves because the night was warm. He clenched his hands which were covered in the same dark brown as his chest. Those hands! How she hated them!
“What about making babies?”
Carmen's mouth trembled. “We've been married a short time, Diego.” He hadn't touched her in a few weeks, not since the death of his ex-mistress, Isabelle Hidalgo. For some reason he'd been preoccupied, and she wondered if he'd possessed true feelings for the woman. But lately he was gayer, happier than she'd ever seen him.
“The time has come to make children, Carmen. Your father would be very pleased.”
“And of course you must please my father!” she snapped without thinking.
His little eyes narrowed to slits. “
SÃ
. He gave you to me as my bride, and though I didn't want you, you serve a purpose and must do my bidding.”
Diego pulled her from the sofa, wrenching her arm in the process. “Go to the bedroom and prepare yourself for me. Now!”
She didn't want to. In fact Carmen never wanted to feel his hairy hands upon her again. She hated the smell of him, the filthy things he did to her when they were in bed, but worst of all, she despised the pain he inflicted on her. He never cared for her, and she felt the marriage act was only to punish women. The image of her mother came to her mind. Perhaps she had endured Raoul's touch without complaint and maybe even enjoyed it a little since she had loved her husband, but Carmen didn't love hers. She wouldn't allow Diego to abuse her again.
“You'll hurt me. I shall tell my father if you bruise me again.”
“Stupid girl! Your father detests the sight of you. He won't protect you from me. You think I've hurt you before, just wait and see what awaits you this night.”
Diego pulled her protesting body from the
sala
, down the hall to the bedroom. He threw her headlong into the room and locked the door. He took the knife he carried inside his boot and laid it on the credenza, then undressed.
“Take off your clothes, Carmen!” he ordered.
“I won't.”
“Madre de Dios,
you will!”
He rushed toward her and grabbed her around the waist. He tore at her gown, ripping it down below her hips.
“Your body is nothing special. I've seen middle-aged whores with better bodies, and they know how to please a man. You're a plump little hen with the personality of a stone. I want you only to make a child to seal my fate with your father's wealth. Now, if I were married to your stepmother, that is a different story. She has a body to drive a man mad with desire. Your body only drives one mad.”
“I hate you!” she screamed and kicked at his shin, hurling herself away from him.
Diego stopped for a moment, puzzled and surprised. “Ah, I think I have a wildcat here. I like when you're upset, Carmen. You make me want you more.”
As he advanced toward her, Carmen knew once he got her again, he'd beat her into submission. But she vowed she wouldn't lie like a lump of clay while he pleasured himself. No, she wouldn't let him touch her again. Into her mind's eye popped the image of Felix, the
lepero
. She didn't know why but suddenly she felt very brave.
The gleam of Diego's knife caught her eye. Just before Diego reached her, she dodged him and made a dash for the credenza. She picked up the knife and held it in front of her.
“Touch me, and I'll pierce your black heart, Diego.”
He seemed amused, totally unaware she intended to use it if necessary. But he decided that once he got hold of her, she'd pay for her misbehavior though it did excite him. He'd never seen Carmen with a flushed face, her hair loose around her shoulders. He wanted her and he'd have her.
He grinned and decided to use the oldest trick imaginable. A look of horror then appeared on his face.
“A rat! Carmen, a rat!” He pointed to the spot at her feet, and without realizing it, her gaze strayed. Diego bounded and wrapped his arms around her body. “Now I've got you!”
However, he had forgotten that though Carmen lowered her arm for a moment, she still held the knife. When he picked her up, her hand reached around his back and the blade into the sinew and muscle.
They fell to the floor. Diego's eyes glazed over. Blood spilled from his mouth. She knew she had killed her husband.
“I'm not concerned about the scandal,” Lianne said and held a sobbing Carmen against her breast. “For once, Raoul, think about your daughter and not your own interests.”
“She killed her husband for God's sake!” he shouted above Carmen's sudden wailing. “Diego wasn't perfect, but I could count upon him.”
“For what?” Lianne snapped. “To do your dirty work? That was all he was good for. He tried to rape her, tried to rape his own wife. He got what he deserved.”
Raoul threw up his hands in disgust. “Thank God the only servant at the house was half-blind and too old to see what Carmen had done. I shall arrange it so the authorities will think Diego was killed by an intruder and Carmen found his body soon after he was knifed. In the week we shall leave for Pachuca until the wagging tongues die down.” Raoul left the
sala
, a look of total aggravation on his face.