Hannah Howell (38 page)

“Of course I would have done a few things differently.” To Marilyn's clear enjoyment, O'Neill elaborated. “How does that compare to the skill of your Mexican lover?"

“He was not my lover. It was business. I needed him to clear a few obstacles out of my way."

“Well, there's one that'll never bother you again. Skinned like a rabbit."

“I suppose you expect that bonus now.” There was eagerness in Marilyn's voice.

“I'm a man what likes to sip his pleasure, make it last. I don't need to take it as fast as Raoul."

“Raoul was a pig."

“But he served, eh?"

“Oh, but not like you can. I know it. Raoul does not know how to treat a woman."

“Now, lass, here sits an expert. I know just what you need."

Antonie felt disgusted by the ensuing recital as well as how clearly it was exciting Marilyn. She wondered where a man like O'Neill knew of such sick behavior. Trying to ignore it, she looked at the others in the room. Cole, clearly having guessed Liam's game, looked sardonically amused. Justin looked shocked, while Royal's face was unreadable. Since Liam was leaving them in no doubt as to how Marilyn found her pleasures, Antonie could only wonder if Royal was struggling to hide a deep hurt. Then Liam said something that pricked at her sense of humor. She thought he had said it for their benefit, because he knew they were listening. She pressed her face against Oro's trembling stomach to smother her ill-timed laugh.

“Take me. Please, take me,” Marilyn begged. “God, I want you to do all those things to me."

“And more, no doubt,” Liam drawled.

“I do have a few ideas of my own,” Marilyn purred. “You can't leave me like this. Arouse me, then push me aside."

“Don't fret, slut. I've no liking to do my riding in a chair."

“There's beds in there. Please don't leave me like this."

“What? No one at home to do the job?"

“None like you. Only gentlemen of refinement, weak men who don't understand the things a woman needs."

“Not like Raoul, eh?"

“Raoul was barely bearable. I could use a man like you. Raoul hasn't done as well as I thought he would."

“Got some more obstacles to clear away, have you?"

“Five. Then I'll have the biggest spread in the land, and you could be at my side."

In an attempt to convince him, Marilyn outlined all her plans. With a little prodding and a great deal of flattery, O'Neill got her to confess to everything. By interspersing his interrogation with promises of giving her all the twisted loving she could desire, he kept Marilyn eager to talk, to finish discussing business so that he could satisfy the needs he had aroused in her.

“Five, is it? That'll take some thought. Come on, wench, I know many a way you can work to change my mind,” he said at last.

When the pair began to walk to the door, Antonie's gaze flew to Royal. She nearly ground her teeth in sheer frustration when she saw that his features held about as much expression as a rock. Even as she feared it, she had hoped for some revelation of how he felt about Marilyn. She could still only guess at that, and her own feelings, her own doubts and fears, made that a far from successful venture.

The door was flung open and, for a moment, they all stared at each other. Marilyn's features held shock and disbelief, but that quickly changed to anger, blended with fear. Liam leaned idly against the doorjamb watching them, but mostly looking at Marilyn.

“Sure ‘n didn't I just forget that we had company,” O'Neill drawled.

“You bastard. You tricked me.” Marilyn flung herself at Liam, her fingers curled into claws.

Without pause, Liam curled up one large fist and connected it firmly with her jaw. Marilyn fell in a limp pile at his feet. Idly, he nudged her with his foot, musing aloud that he may not have pulled his punch as much as he had thought to.

“Liam,” Antonie breathed in honest shock, “you hit a woman."

“I hit scum,” O'Neill said in a cold, flat voice. “You know I like women. A good woman like you, lass, can wrap me round her wee finger. I'd cut off my arm afore I'd hurt one of the fair sex, be they whore or nun. This,” he nudged Marilyn again, “is filth. This sort can't feel any pleasure unless there's pain and humiliation. That sickness taints everything in them. It makes them able to want a whole family dead just so they can have a cattle empire. This is no woman but a sick beast wearing a woman's fine skin.” He looked at Royal. “Her saddle bags on the table hold some proof."

Little was said as they collected up the saddlebags and restrained Marilyn. Royal's silence troubled Antonie but she did not press him. If he cared for Marilyn at all, this revelation of what she was and what she had planned to do had to hurt. Antonie could not stop herself from wondering if his silence was a result of his pain.

The men did their best to keep Antonie comfortable on the ride home, but her head was fogged with pain and exhaustion by the time she got there. She was only vaguely aware of Royal carrying her upstairs and placing her on one of the beds in the room with Tomás. Somehow she managed to say enough to ease the fever-ridden Tomás's worries, but then she slept.

Royal and Cole delivered Marilyn to the sheriff, who immediately sent men after her father. By the time they had reached town, Marilyn was in a raging fury and said all that was needed to get herself hanged. It amazed Royal that he had been so blind to her character. Hastily leaving the sheriff's office to escape the verbal filth she directed at him, he was ashamed of the time that he had thought her better than Antonie.

It was not until later, as he sat with his family, that he realized he may have erred yet again. Liam was entertaining Oro, who was confined to his bed, his abused leg raised and covered in compresses. Therefore, only Royal's siblings joined him in the small library for an after-dinner drink. They sat quietly, shocked by the events of the last twenty-four hours.

“Are you really going to marry Antonie?” Patricia asked, breaking the heavy silence.

“Yes, Pattie, I am, and quickly. If nothing else,” Royal said dryly, “I've got to use all the time I can grab hold of to talk her out of naming the baby Juan Ramirez if it's a boy."

Patricia smiled a little. “That could cause a little bit of trouble, and there's been enough of that already."

“You should've told her what you'd planned with Marilyn,” Justin said, accusation weighting his voice.

“Really? What should I have done, Justin? Turned to her in the night and casually informed her that I planned to seduce Marilyn in the morning?"

“More or less. Toni ain't stupid. If you'd have told her of your suspicions, she'd have understood. She might not have liked the method of interrogation, but she wouldn't have misunderstood as she did and bolted."

It was something Royal was all too painfully aware of. “I know,” he said in a quiet voice laden with guilt.

“That's not saying all this could have been prevented,” Justin said hastily. “Raoul's wanted her dead for a long time."

“True,” Cole agreed. “An old feud. As often happens, it was bequeathed from father to child. As Oro said, Raoul saw Juan in Toni."

“It's over now, thank God,” Patricia said firmly. “Do you think they'll hang Marilyn?"

“I don't know, Pattie,” Royal answered. “They will lock her up though, and her father will probably hang."

“Our neighbors,” she faltered. “Ones we thought our friends. It's hard to comprehend."

“Greed, Pattie,” Cole drawled. “Simple as that. They wanted it all. What's frightening is that they almost succeeded. That they didn't we owe to Toni, Oro, and Tomás. They pushed Raoul to recklessness and Toni pushed Marilyn to it.” He looked at Royal. “Marilyn could see better than you where Antonie was concerned. Women can sense when another woman's a real threat."

“Strange little creatures, aren't they,” murmured Royal.

“Thank you very much,” Patricia huffed, glaring at her three chuckling brothers.

Maria entered with a snack and Justin asked, “How are your patients?"

“Doing well,” Maria replied. “The
señorita
sleeps and so does the boy. It was good for him to know that his sister, she was safe. It eased his mind and he will heal better now. He is strong.
Sí,
and so is the
señorita."

“The baby?” Royal ventured, unable to stop worrying about what harm could have been caused by Antonie's ordeal.

“A strong child. He clings and thrives. Once the baby is well begun,
señor,
it is hard to shake him free. The
señorita,
she knew how to act. That, too, helped. No bad fear or shock to hurt the child."

Relieved, Royal nodded, understanding what Maria meant. Antonie had known what she faced. Her courage and the pride that kept her from cowering before her enemy had strengthened the child. A woman's state of mind could affect the child she carried and Antonie's had held firm, refusing to succumb to hysteria or shock. Fortunately, she had not had to hold out for too long.

Even Antonie had to have a breaking point or, at least, her body did. Even now, with her safe within the walls of his home, the aftertaste of fear was in his mouth. He wondered if he would ever forget how she looked tied and naked and so very helpless, Raoul preparing to sear her soft flesh. Royal knew he would never be able to forget how nearly he had lost her.

Liam wandered in a while later and Patricia quietly slipped away to join Oro. Royal could see that his brothers were as curious as he was about the big Irishman, but they held their questions until he was seated with a brandy and a fine cigar. The laughter in the man's eyes told Royal that Liam was well aware of how they felt.

“I'm a bounty hunter,” he announced carefully, watching their faces closely.

“Of course,” Cole groaned. “I would have recognized the name except that I was preoccupied. ‘Bring ‘em back alive’ O'Neill."

“Er, isn't that dead or alive?” Justin gave O'Neill a tentative smile.

“Not with Liam O'Neill, Justin."

“A bounty hunter friendly with a
bandido?"
Royal asked.

“Well, now, Royal, the man saved my life,” Liam explained. “I owed him, and so I'd never go after him. He knew that. I also don't bother to hunt down men like Juan. Sure way to die, unless you've got an army behind you."

“I'd gotten the feeling that you'd ridden with them,” Royal said slowly.

“Did, but not on this side of the border. Against their enemies on that side. Government or otherwise."

“So you've known Antonie for a while."

Liam nodded. “Got yourself a fine woman, there."

“I know,” Royal said quietly.

“ ‘Course, ain't telling just how long you'll have her, if you don't tell her what you were up to with that whore."

It passed through Royal's mind that he should tell Liam to mind his own business, but instead he murmured, “I thought I ought to wait until she's better."

“And you might be talking to thin air when you do. She's got it in her head that you wanted the redhead. Don't know what you're wanting to say to Toni but I'd clear up that misunderstanding real quick, for Toni's not about to take second place even if the other woman's locked up somewhere."

Seeing the truth in that, Royal soon found himself standing at Antonie's bedside. He intended to let her know why he had been holding Marilyn. All the rest, such as getting married, could be discussed later, when she was stronger.

She looked so small and young as she lay sleeping. He felt a strong urge to protect her even though he knew she did not really need that. She was a woman to stand at a man's side, not behind him.

So caught up was he in studying her that he was a little startled to suddenly find her looking at him. Her eyes were heavy-lidded with sleep, but clear of a fever's brightness. He fervently hoped that they would stay that way, that her ordeal could be so easily recovered from.

“Tomás?” Her gaze flew to the young man's sleeping form.

“He's going to be all right, honey,” Royal assured her. “Here, Maria left some broth and a potion. You need plenty of rest. This lot'll see to that."

“I will be washed from the bed, eh?"

He smiled a little as he helped her sit up. “Can you manage?” he asked as he handed her the bowl of hearty broth.

"Sí.
I am exhausted is all. My hurts were little ones."

Antonie tried to concentrate on eating. She was filled with questions, but afraid of the answers. The picture of him holding Marilyn came to mind all too easily. With it came a pain that easily surmounted all her bodily ones.

“I have to talk to you,” he began when he took the empty bowl from her and handed her the potion.

"Sí?"
She gulped down the potion, wishing it would work on her immediately. “About what,
querido?"

“About Marilyn,” he began a little awkwardly.

“I am sorry. I was hoping you would not find out what she is. Then, too, I wanted you to, because she was a danger to you. It was a very bad situation. Still, it is sad that it could not be other than it was."

“It was certainly a shock to see her so clearly. I had suspected her though, Antonie."

“You had?” She forced herself to listen calmly, to suppress all hope until she was sure of how he felt about the matter.

Royal nodded, reaching to take Antonie's hand between his. “It suddenly penetrated this thick skull of mine that she was the only one who could have been informing Raoul. She'd also been seen in the wrong places at the wrong times. Nobody had seen her actually meet Raoul, however. It was all supposition. Not a scrap of real hard proof."

“If you knew that, why did you want to marry her?"

“I didn't."

Shaking her head, Antonie muttered, “Now you make no sense,
mi vida."

“There was one thing I always knew about Marilyn. She was vain. I knew I could get her to believe that I would marry her, probably even that I was besotted. In doing that, I'd hoped to make her slip. I fully intended to give her information that was false, that she would then deliver to Raoul."

“Oh. And I ruined this plan?"

“No. It was set for next week. In a way, you did the same thing, because it was Marilyn who told Raoul where to find you."