Golden Paradise (Vincente 1) (34 page)

"When you are able to get up and throw me out, I'll leave, and not a moment before," she declared, hands on hips, eyes spitting fire.

He struggled up on his pillows. "Damn you, I'll have the servants throw you out. I told you before I do not want you here."

"You can't have the servants throw me out," she said, moving over to the window and pushing the curtains open. "Your grandfather is still in command here, and he has told the servants to obey me in all things." Valentina remembered the talk she had had with Don Alonso just moments ago. He had been delighted with her plan and had given her his full support. "You see, Marquis, if anyone is going to evict me from your room, it will have to be you."

"What are you going to do?" he asked suspiciously. "You are not going to get me into that tub."

Valentina pushed her sleeves up past her elbows. "Yes, you will be put in that tub. If it is at all possible, you are soon going to stand on your own two feet. When that day comes, I will walk out of this room on my own—you won't have to throw me out."

His eyes were dark storm centers. "Damn you to hell, Valentina. You cannot come into my room and order me about. No woman can order my life for me."

"You can get mad at me—you can yell until they hear you all the way to San Francisco—but as God is my judge, if it is at all possible, you are going to walk!"

Marquis stared openmouthed at the little slip of a girl, whom he could break with his bare hands. How dare she push her way into his room making impossible demands! She had to know that she was torturing him. The doctor had said he would never be able to walk.

Moving to the bed, Valentina picked up a pair of scissors that lay on the bedside table. "Juan, hold his leg while I cut the bandages off." Immediately the servant complied.

"You are not a doctor, damn you, Valentina. What are you doing? Are you insane?" Marquis raged at her.

"Perhaps I am insane," she answered, tossing the dirty bandages in a heap on the floor. Examining his leg, she almost felt her resolve slip. It was healing well, though the angry red scar was still inflamed and his thigh was swollen. She was reminded that it was her fault he was now suffering so tremendously.

Marquis wore faded black trousers that had had the right leg cut away to accommodate his bandages. Stepping back, Valentina pointed to the tub. "Juan, you and Carlo pick up your
patron
and place him in the tub. Do it gently and take care not to bend his legs."

As Marquis was lifted into the air, his loud protests filled the room. "Damnation, Valentina, I will not be treated like a baby. Who in the hell do you think you are?”

As he was lowered into the tub, she dropped down beside him. Marquis had never known anger such as he now directed at Valentina. "You will pay for this," he said through clenched teeth. "I'll see that you do."

Marquis had not seen Salamar until she stood over him. "You may not like what we do to you, Marquis Vincente, but, as Valentina said, we will leave when you can throw us out."

His jaw tightened and he leaned back, staring at the ceiling. He would never give Valentina or her strange-looking maid the satisfaction of humiliating him. He just would not talk to them.

Salamar dropped to her knees, gently picked up his leg, and began kneading and massaging it at the calf. Marquis could not feel Salamar's touch since his leg had no feeling in it, but he could feel the tension draining slowly out of him. Her fingertips worked like a healing balm, magically relaxing his whole body.

Closing his eyes, he felt the water wash over him with a soothing warmth. He was unaware that his bedroom was undergoing a transformation while he relaxed. His bed was moved in front of the window. His bed covers were changed, and fresh flowers were placed on several tables about the room.

Soothing hands lathered his hair and massaged his scalp. Opening his eyes, he saw that Valentina was bathing him while Salamar was massaging his leg. His anger was still there, but it had cooled considerably.

"I have not had my breakfast yet," he said testily, fighting against defeat.

Valentina was near his ear when she spoke. "You will eat as soon as the exercise is completed."

Suddenly and unexpectedly, a prickling sensation moved through Marquis's injured leg. He gripped the side of the tub to keep from crying out. Salamar was bending his leg back and forth. The prickling sensation turned to ravaging pain that stabbed like hot knives into his flesh.

Groaning, he turned his head from side to side. Agony such as he had never known assaulted his senses. He clamped his lips tightly together so he would not cry out in pain.

Salamar saw the beads of perspiration that popped out on his upper lip. "You are a proud devil," she said, clasping his leg firmly and bending it downward. "You would not ask me to stop if it killed you, would you, Marquis Vincente?"

His eyes opened and he stared into Salamar's strange eyes, which seemed to search out his deepest thoughts. "You must enjoy torturing me," he gasped.

Valentina gripped Marquis's shoulders, feeling his pain as if it were her own. She wanted to tell Salamar to stop, that she was tormenting him. She wanted to give him strength, to assure him that Salamar knew what she was doing.

"What kind of a wife are you that you want to see me suffer?" Marquis's voice was accusing.

"Tell your wife where you hurt," Salamar said softly.

His eyes bounced off Valentina to stare at Salamar. "You know damned well you are hurting my . . . leg!" His face registered surprise. "My legs!"

"Yes, the leg that has no feeling in it," Salamar confirmed with a smile. "If you can feel what I am doing to you, then you will regain the use of this leg."

Marquis looked uncertain for a moment. "I can feel pain!" He was almost afraid to hope. "Could I be mistaken? I did feel pain, did I not?" he questioned.

To demonstrate that the sensation he had felt had indeed been pain, Salamar moved the leg to one side and then the other, satisfied when Marquis's face whitened. His face was colorless as she smiled at him. "You felt pain, Marquis Vincente."

Valentina felt joy sing through her body. Marquis was going to recover!

"That is enough of this for today," Salamar declared, standing up. "After you have had a good breakfast, we will try something new."

Valentina stood up and called out to Juan and Carlos, who had been waiting by the door. "Place your patron in a chair, dry him off well, and put dry trousers on him. When that is done, tell Maria to bring his breakfast. Empty the tub, but do not put it away. We will do this same exercise every day."

Marquis hated the fact that Valentina was in charge of his life. He had not wanted her to see him this way. Still, he had felt pain in his leg. Even now it was throbbing. Hope nipped at his mind. The door of doubt had been cracked, and perhaps it would soon open all the way.

Valentina left without saying another word, but Salamar smiled at Marquis on her way out. "This morning did not go too badly. Let us hope the afternoon goes equally well."

Marquis ate a hearty breakfast. He was exhausted but excited. He would soon be a whole man again! He found himself looking forward to the afternoon.

Marquis was not asleep but resting with his eyes closed when Valentina and Salamar entered his room. He was aware of their presence when he smelled the soft scent of roses that he always associated with Valentina. Slowly his lashes opened and his eyes locked with soft, silver-blue eyes.

Seeing the wistfulness in Valentina's gaze, Marquis realized that he had been deliberately punishing her. He had married her, then deserted her in his own home. He could only imagine what she thought about him. So many things were unsaid between them. Probably they would never be said.

"It is time for your afternoon exercise," Salamar stated in a tone that said she would brook no argument. "This will be worse than the morning session," she warned, "but only because the feeling is coming to your leg. We are going to work with both legs this time."

Marquis looked at her with complete resignation. "I do not suppose there is anything I can do that will get rid of both of you?"

"Not unless you can kiss your elbow," Salamar mocked. Giving Marquis no time to consider, she jerked the cover off him and tossed it on the floor. "The sooner we get started, the sooner we will finish," Salamar told him.

How he got through the next hour, Marquis would never know. Pain was his constant companion as Salamar forced him to push his heel against the foot of the bed. Then Salamar massaged his leg, twisting it right and left. Just when he thought he could stand it no longer, she started on the other leg. When Salamar finally announced he had had enough for one day, he was weak with relief.

Marquis lay back against his pillow, trying to breathe past the pain in his leg. It was a wonderful feeling—the pain—because it meant his legs were not dead.

Valentina placed the cover over him, looking at him with wide, sympathetic eyes. "Do not pity me," he whispered, too weary to think clearly. "Do not ever feel sorry for me."

"Why should I pity you, Marquis? You are going to recover completely," she told him, turning away.

Slipping out of the room, Valentina knew she did indeed feel pity for him. If only he knew how difficult it had been for her to watch his suffering. She knew he would have to do the same tomorrow, and the next day, and as many days as it took for him to walk.

Every day for a week, Valentina and Salamar went to Marquis's room in the morning and afternoon. Marquis would never have admitted it, but he found himself looking forward to those times. He could feel himself growing stronger, and the pain in his legs lessened with each treatment.

Valentina closed the book she had been reading to her mother, bent, and kissed her cheek. Standing up, she flexed her tired muscles. Salamar was seated by the candle, mending a gown. Valentina whispered, not wanting to disturb her mother. "I'm going to bed now."

Salamar put her mending aside and walked Valentina to the door. "You cannot go to bed yet. There is still something you must do for Marquis. The treatment I have started must be followed exactly."

"But we have done the exercises for today," Valentina said in bewilderment.

"Tonight we begin a new treatment. Did I forget to tell you:

"Yes. You said nothing about our going to Marquis's room tonight."

"Not we, Valentina—you." Salamar pressed a jar into Valentina's hand. "This must be rubbed into Marquis's legs, taking care not to get it on the wound. You must softly massage his thighs and calves. When that is done, have him turn to his stomach and massage his arms and back. Then have him turn over and rub his chest and stomach. Do this in the sequence I tell you, and do it very carefully, caressingly. It will stimulate the flow of blood in his body."

"But-"

"No buts. If Marquis can fulfill his part and endure the pain, then surely you can do yours."

"I must get dressed first." Valentina was still confused. "I am wearing my nightgown and robe."

"Do not be silly. Marquis is your husband. Go as you are.

Valentina nodded, wishing she did not have to go to Marquis's room alone. "What if he is sleeping," she asked hopefully.

"If he is asleep, you will awaken him."

"What is this for, Salamar?" Valentina inquired, lifting the lid off the jar and smelling the pleasant scent of wild honey and some hauntingly exotic spices.

"It is one of my own creams. If it is applied properly, it will do what it is intended to do for Marquis. Remember, you must rub the cream into the skin, softly."

Valentina was resigned to her fate, but walking slowly down the hallway toward Marquis's room, she dreaded what she must do.

*                                          *                                          *

The maid's face eased into a smile—she was rather pleased with herself. "Yes, indeed, Salamar"—she clapped her hands delightedly—"you are a genius! If Valentina applies the cream correctly, it will have the desired effect on her as well as on Marquis."

Salamar knew that the cream had no healing substance, nor was it a magic potion. It was nothing more than her own body cream. The magic would come when Valentina’s hands moved over Marquis's body. The two young people loved each other. She would merely give them the opportunity to admit that love. What could be more intimate than Marquis and Valentina alone in his bedroom while Valentina stroked his skin?

Valentina found Marquis's room in darkness but for the faint moonlight that streamed through the open windows.

"Marquis, are you asleep?" she called softly.

He had been sleeping, but at the sound of her voice he stirred and opened his eyes. He had been dreaming about Valentina and was not sure if she was truly there or if he was still dreaming.

"Marquis," she called again, reaching out to touch his shoulder.

"No more exercise," he groaned. "Let me sleep."

"This will not be bad, Marquis. I must apply this cream to your body. You can even close your eyes while I massage it in."

"I do not suppose you will go away until I agree," he bit out in an irritated voice.