Authors: Sandra Lea Rice
In the side garden near the ornamental fishpond, Angeline sat sunning herself. A book lay open beside her on the marble bench. Although a bright, clear day, the sun held little warmth and none penetrated to heat her chilled bones. Her thoughts were just as bleak.
At the sound of a door closing, she raised her head. Philippe strode across the bricked walkway toward the barns. When he noticed her, he changed direction and came her way.
Dropping his hat on the bench beside her, he knelt. “What is troubling you,
niña
?”
Angeline swiped a tear from her cheek. “I’m not truly his wife, Philippe. I didn’t know my name was not Ashley when we married. Now, there doesn’t seem to be a way to make it right.”
Philippe handed her a handkerchief. “And you wish to make this marriage right?”
“I love him. I always have,” she said simply. “If we hadn’t come back, I would be living in America as his wife. But I wanted to find my mother’s family, and then to hear
Don
Fernando admit he was wrong.”
“
Niña
, I appreciate your desire to right the wrong you feel was done, but you must realize it might not be possible.
Don
Fernando is a determined man, and never does he reverse his decisions. Your mother understood what he might do, but she chose to follow her heart. Do you not see there may be no battle to fight?”
Taking her hand in his, he stressed, “I would not have acted in that way, but that was the choice
Don
Fernando made. When we make decisions, it is best to first consider the consequences and whether they are those we can accept. If they are, then we continue, but if not . . .” He shrugged.
He lifted her chin and met her gaze. “I also made the decision to let her go, knowing I must live with that choice. But I loved her and wanted her happiness.”
“I know she was your wife, and yet you put her happiness above yours, knowing you could never . . .” She dabbed at her tears with the handkerchief. “You gave up far more than she. I don’t know how she could do that to you.”
He leaned forward. “Do not be angry with her. Life is hard at times, and Franchesca believed in living life to the fullest. That is part of what made her so very special to those who knew her.”
“
Don
Philippe, if I might interrupt?” At the sound of Adrian’s angry voice, Philippe and Angeline both looked up quickly.
Philippe rose, placed his hat on his head, and faced Adrian. “You wish to speak to me?”
Adrian stiffened, then blinked. Angeline saw recognition fill his eyes. “Yes,
Don
Philippe, I do.” His eyes narrowed. “Or should I say,
El
Cazador?”
Philippe braced his feet and eyed Adrian carefully. “We are one and the same, Lord Adrian.”
Adrian’s gaze flicked to Angeline and realization flared in his eyes.
Angeline bounded to her feet. “Please don’t hurt each other, I couldn’t bear it,” she pleaded.
Philippe’s gaze swept over Angeline. “I will do nothing,
niña
. I told you I would not hurt you again.” Philippe sought Adrian’s gaze. He held his arms away from his sides to indicate he would not reach for a gun.
Adrian stared at Angeline, a look of bewilderment crossing his face. “So,
this
is what’s between you? I knew there was something.”
Angeline stepped closer to Adrian and gripped his forearms. “He saved me from Malcolm and returned me to you. He told me who he was and how he had loved my mother. I couldn’t betray him, Adrian, please understand. I knew he presented no further danger to any of us.”
Adrian shrugged away her hands. “You almost died. Am I to forget that?”
Philippe swung around to Angeline. “Almost died? I should not have left you. Better I had faced these men then leave you to die.”
“But I didn’t die, Philippe, and neither did you,” Angeline admonished.
Adrian glanced from one to the other. “It was all there, everything, right in front of me. I chose not to see what it was, Angeline, because I believed you would be truthful with me.” He turned away only to spin back around and confront them. “You trusted him,”—he pointed at Philippe—“more than you trusted me!” He threw his hands out in anger.
“No.” Angeline shook her head. “You’re wrong. I trusted
in
you, Adrian, in your love for me. I trusted you to comprehend once I could tell you the truth. I believed we,”—she motioned between the two of them with her hand—“were strong enough to overcome anything, that you knew I would never jeopardize what we have.”
Adrian searched her expression.
She
had
made the choice to protect Philippe. Now, she could only watch as anger and hurt played out on Adrian’s face.
Adrian dropped his head, rested his hands on his hips, and breathed in deeply, letting it slide out slowly. When he glanced up, he looked directly at Philippe.
“I don’t like or trust you. For Angeline’s sake, I hope that changes. Given the chance, I would have killed you, and might still if you disappoint her.” Adrian’s gaze rested on Angeline for an instant, then returned to Philippe. “But I’m also grateful to you. I know only too well what Malcolm is capable of.”
“I understand, but just so
you
know, Lord Adrian, should
you
hurt or disappoint her, I
will
finish you.” With a last look at Angeline, Philippe spun on his heel and marched off.
Adrian drew Angeline into his arms. “I’m sorry, my love. This has been difficult for you, hasn’t it?” He held her tightly. “I want you to remember one thing.” He pulled back to look into her eyes. “There is nothing you can’t tell me or talk to me about.”
Angeline, resplendent in a gown of ruby-red silk, stood with her arm through Adrian’s. A satin sash encircled her just below her breasts, while the gown fell in soft folds over her slightly rounded belly. Adrian’s formal black attire, with his gray and silver waistcoat and snowy white, ruby-embellished cravat, provided an elegant contrast.
She felt Adrian’s warm regard and lifted her face to meet his eyes. What she saw, riding in the blue depths, robbed her of breath.
Angeline turned just as Penelope flung her arms wide, a brilliant smile encompassing all those present.
“Isn’t this the most wonderful time of year? You can just
feel
the holiday spirit in the air,” Penelope enthused.
Rafael laughed. “If we had not, then we most certainly would by now. You have enough excitement for us all.”
Boxes of beautiful blown-glass ornaments were carried in and placed by the tree. Evergreen garlands hung over the doorways with fruits, red peppers, and other inviting things scattered throughout.
Frank and Shirley, having been invited to join in the festivities, sat together on a settee enjoying the warmth from the fire burning brightly in the hearth.
“These next few days are full of pleasurable events.” Esteban swept his hand to encompass the room and all its holiday bounty.
Michael dipped his head to Penelope. “I suspect you would find something to enjoy in most things.” She turned her laughing gaze on him.
Angeline tugged on Adrian’s arm and whispered, “Do you think there’s an attraction between Michael and Penelope?”
Adrian grinned. “I’m certain of it.”
“Our mother will be here shortly to hang the first ornament. Food will be set out on the side table for all to partake at your leisure,” Esteban announced.
“I have something for you, sweetheart,” Adrian whispered softly. “This was to be a Christmas present, but I think you should have it now.”
From an inside pocket, Adrian withdrew an oblong leather case and handed it to Angeline. The others had gathered around, curious as to what the first gift of the season would be.
Angeline viewed the present in surprise. “Adrian, this is beautiful.” From the box, she lifted a single gold chain connecting a row of perfectly matched, blood-red rubies.
Taking the necklace from her, Adrian fastened the chain around Angeline’s neck. “It has been in my family for generations and is part of the Spencer rubies.”
She hesitated, running her fingers along the necklace. “They cannot be mine, Adrian.”
“You are my wife, Angeline, no matter what name was used.”
She rose up on tiptoe to brush her lips across his cheek.
Philippe crossed the room to Angeline. “You are very beautiful tonight, Angelina, as exotic as the rubies you wear.” He lifted her hand and kissed the back.
“I do not believe we have met, Señor.” Philippe addressed Frank who came to his feet. “I am
Don
Philippe Montenegro and my lands adjoin those of Cordova.”
“A pleasure,
Don
Philippe. My name’s Frank Bates and this is my wife, Shirley. We’re from the Spencer Ranch in Texas,” Frank met Philippe’s gaze directly.
“The pleasure is mine,
Señor y Señora
Bates.” Philippe moved off to speak to Rafael.
“He has a way about him, Shirley girl, but something troubles me and I can’t place it. It will come ta me, though.” Although Frank whispered to Shirley, Angeline heard his comment. If possible, she would need to keep them separated before Frank’s intuition proved correct.
Maria assumed a position near the tree. “Good evening, everyone. I hope you have not waited long.” She signaled to Rafael. “Would you please bring the ornament?”
He opened a padded box and withdrew a beautiful ceramic star.
“Will you assist me, my sons?” A stepping stool was produced. With Esteban and Rafael on each side for support, Maria stepped up and reached to place the star. Penelope applauded in delight and the others followed suit.
After they helped her down, Maria stood beside the tree and announced, “Have fun, my children. This house should be full of laughter.”
“It is truly a wonderful star.” Penelope tipped her head back to gaze at the top of the tree. “
Don
Rafael, are there more ornaments as lovely as that?”
“Come and see,
niña
, and choose one to hang.”
Penelope opened the first box and gasped. All were hand-blown and exquisitely painted, their bright, clear colors portraying different holiday scenes. Penelope chose one, stepped to the tree, and hung the ornament. Pivoting to the others, she called, “Come on, everyone. We have a whole tree to decorate.”
Soon the tree seemed to glitter as light reflected from the many glass bulbs added to the branches.
“Listen, do you hear the voices?” Angeline crossed to one of the large doors to listen. “It sounds like children singing.”
“It is the
Aguinaldo.
Tradition says that children from the homes surrounding the Hacienda sing carols for pieces of candy or a few coins,” Philippe explained.
Esteban appeared with a basket of individually wrapped candies. When the song ended, he passed them out to the children eagerly awaiting the treats.
“What happens next, Rafael?” Penelope picked a spot on the tree for the ornament in her hand.
“On December twenty-second, we have our Christmas Lottery. It is an exciting time, as everyone wishes to win. The lottery was first started in 1763 by Carlos III and has continued since then. The draw will make someone instantly rich.”
“What a wonderful thing to do,” Angeline responded.
Michael dipped his head to Penelope. “Have you thought of spending Christmas in America, away from everything you love?”
She returned his regard. “I will not be away from
everything
I love.”
Leaning forward, Michael kissed her gently. “You are very sweet, Penelope. I want very much for you to be happy.”
She whispered shyly, “I will be with you.”
Angeline smiled. Penelope would make a perfect match for Michael.
Philippe appeared at Adrian’s shoulder. “May I have a word with you?”
Adrian leaned nearer to Angeline. “We’ll be back shortly, my sweet.” Engrossed in placing ornaments, she simply nodded.
Outside on the terrace, Adrian turned to Philippe. “What is it?”
“Angelina told me Malcolm may still be alive. If so, he will follow. If he is anywhere in town, or has sent someone, I will have a better chance of obtaining information than you.” Philippe eyed Adrian. “He has convinced himself he has a right to what he believes she can bring him.”
Adrian’s jaw tightened. “We thought as much from what little information we were able to obtain.
Don
Philippe, it’s obvious you care for Angeline, but do not doubt that she is my wife, legally or not, and I hope you respect that.”
“I do care greatly for her and wish only her happiness. If you make her happy we have no problem, but I will not see her unhappy.” Philippe met Adrian’s cold stare.
After Philippe left, Adrian stayed on the veranda, smoking. He’d heard the protective note in the older man’s voice and caught the implicit warning. What he couldn’t fathom was why Philippe had formed such an attachment. Adrian understood remorse, but this was more. He flicked the cigarillo out into the air and stepped inside to rejoin the others.
Angeline and Penelope met him. “We would like to go into town tomorrow. We’ll be perfectly safe with an escort,” Penelope started, grasping one of his arms. Angeline wrapped her fingers around the other arm, batting her lashes playfully. “We need time to search for gifts, but you and Michael cannot come. Please say we may.”
Adrian glanced from one to the other, grinning at their little conspiracy. “Then who shall we get to accompany you?” His gaze met Philippe’s briefly.
“I would be more than happy to escort the
niñas
,” Philippe offered. “We can take some men with us if you wish.”
“Thank you,
Don
Philippe. This little outing is obviously very important to them.” Adrian noted their excited faces. “Take Frank with you. You will find him a very good man to have along.”
Philippe rode into the front courtyard. Dressed entirely in black, he wore his flat-brimmed hat pulled low on his forehead. Sensing the intensity of Frank’s regard, he twisted in the saddle to face him. Frank’s gaze narrowed, a quick sizing up, before turning away.