Hannah Howell (39 page)

"Sí."
She fought the effects of the potion, for she wanted to hear all he had to say. “She met me as I was leaving. I told her.” She grimaced over her own stupidity. “I nearly got Tomás killed."

“You couldn't know, Antonie. It took a long time for me to figure it all out."

“Juan taught me to speak carefully all the time, to trust few. She was not of your family, she was suspect, and so I should have been more careful.” She could not hold back a yawn and her eyelids began to feel very heavy. “I was angry and spoke with no thought."

“So has everyone at times. You can't go blaming yourself.” He helped her lie back down. “If we're going to start scattering blame, we better start throwing some my way, because I started the whole mess by not telling you what I had planned.” Brushing the strands of hair from her face, he added, “I have a lot of faults, but I'm not a man to leave the arms of one woman and minutes later propose to another."

“I think maybe I would have thought of that later,” she murmured sleepily. “Still, you were to have maybe married her."

“So everyone assumed. It was merely a plan, nothing was meant, either what was said or anything you saw me do."

“You looked like you meant it,” she grumbled, unable to hold off sleep much longer. “I would not have liked that plan."

“I know. That's why I didn't tell you. I wanted to avoid an argument.” He bent to brush a kiss over her mouth. “Go to sleep."

“I think I am going to have to,” she sighed, falling asleep even as she finished speaking.

Royal smiled a little as he settled himself back in his chair by the bed. Maria would be in soon to watch over the pair. For a while, even though he was exhausted, he wanted to simply look at Antonie, to reassure himself that she was alive and would soon be well again. The fear that he had permanently lost her still left a bitter taste in his mouth. He watched her light breathing as if he had never seen it before.

His gaze finally drifted to her belly. He could see now that it was no longer concave, but slightly rounded. Very soon it would round even more with the growth of the child they had created together. Royal shook his head, knowing that it would take him a long time to get used to the idea that he was to be a father. Only now was he aware that he had taken absolutely no care to prevent such a thing, something he had always been careful to do in the past.

“You will see the truth of the child soon,” came Maria's soft voice as she entered the room. “Very soon the
señorita
will show clearly. She does a little now."

“It is hard to believe when she is still so slim."

“The first child is slow to round the belly,” Maria said as she took the seat he had just vacated. “If she was not sleeping from the potion, you could feel your child maybe, but the potion puts the baby to sleep, too."

“It won't hurt the child?"

“No,
señor.
I will not give her much after this night, but her body needs the peace now. You go to your bed now,
señor,
I will watch them. I am thinking I will be needing you rested well to help me keep the
señorita
in her bed soon, eh?"

He smiled a little as he headed out of the room. “Most likely."

His bed was a welcome sight. Despite his concern for Antonie, Royal was exhausted. As he lay down, and almost immediately began to go to sleep, he sensed he would need his strength not only to see that Antonie took care of herself but that she married him. He knew it was not going to be a simple matter of proposing and getting an acceptance.

Twenty-five

“Aces and fours. Two aces and three fours. Full house, darlin'."

Antonie's eyes narrowed as she studied the poker hand Liam was proudly displaying, and laid out her own hand. “I have a full house, too. Three aces and two nines."

“I only have two pair and an ace,” Tomás said, his eyes alive with laughter.

“Ah, well, Antonie has won this hand.” O'Neill collected up the cards. “My deal."

“I think we need a new deck,
amigo,"
Antonie murmured.

“A new deck, love? Why?"

It was hard not to laugh at the extremely innocent look on O'Neill's almost too handsome face, and Antonie could hear the laughter in her voice. “Because this deck has too many aces."

“Too many?"

"Sí.
Six."

“No, it doesn't."

"Sí.
It does. I counted them."

“Nonsense. There's ten."

“Ten aces?” she squeaked and then started to laugh.

“Yup. Ten. Aces are nice to have in a hand. Figured I'd put in enough for everyone.” He grinned when Antonie and Tomás began to laugh.

Royal knew his knock could not be heard and quietly entered the room. His gaze immediately went to Antonie. She wore her peasant dress, her hair loosely tied back into one thick swatch. The loose fit of her clothes did not entirely hide the rounding of her stomach.

He had waited to speak to her until he felt she was on the road to recovery. Her wounds had been slight, but the ordeal had been hard on her. Fears for the health of the child had made them pamper her and had kept her from protesting. It had been a long, trying three weeks, however. Looking at her laughing so heartily with the two men made him think that they had been overly cautious.

Reluctantly, he admitted that some of his hesitation was due to a healthy dose of cowardice. He was not exactly sure what he felt for Antonie or what she felt for him, making it very difficult for him to think of a way of proposing marriage. He knew he might also have to find a way to convince her to marry him.

Since he had explained what he had been up to with Marilyn, he had taken things slowly with Antonie by courting her. He could only hope it had worked. Then he would not have to demand anything. He wanted her, and he wanted the child that she carried in her womb to bear his name.

“Royal, he's cheating,” Antonie said with a laugh when she realized that Royal had joined them.

“Lass, how can you say that?” O'Neill protested with great drama. “If I'd been cheating, I would have given myself all the aces."

“I think I would have suspected something if you had dealt yourself ten cards, O'Neill,” Antonie said firmly.

“Ten?” Royal smiled at her.

"Sí,
Royal. There are ten aces in that deck."

“A fine card the ace,” O'Neill murmured.

“Remind me not to play cards with you, O'Neill,” Royal drawled. “You look better every day, Tomás."

“Ah,
sí,
soon I can hobble about your house like Oro, eh? Matching gimps, O'Neill calls us. I think I will shoot him."

“I think I would, too,” Royal said when he stopped laughing. “Antonie, could I speak to you, please."

“Certainly,” she replied, but made no move to stand up. “Here I am."

“Cute.” He took her by the hand and gently tugged her off the bed. “In private."

Antonie tried to hide her nervousness as she followed Royal into his room. It was a struggle, for he looked very serious. There were several topics of conversation facing them that could cause that look, and she was not sure she was all that ready to get into any of them. She admitted to herself that she was being cowardly, but she didn't care.

In her less sensible moments, she had found herself wishing things could go on as they had been. But that could not be and she knew it. The baby changed everything. They might not be ready for any decisions, but they had to be made.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, she watched him a little warily. He had not been acting quite the same with her. There were some subtle changes in his treatment of her, none of which were disturbing her. What really troubled her was that he hardly ever touched her. She knew she had been in no condition to make love until very recently, but he hardly even put his arm around her. Antonie admitted to herself that she was hungry for some sort of contact with him, like that simple but brief holding of hands while he had helped her stand up a moment ago. She was beginning to fear that the fire in him, the one they had shared, had died.

“There's been a verdict on Marilyn and her father.” Royal cursed himself for yet again being cowardly, using that topic to avoid the confrontation he knew he had to face. “Her father will hang and she will be sent to prison."

Her heart sank. There was only one reason she could think of for him to require privacy to tell her that news. He was saying that the battle they had fought together was ended, and now it was over between them. The interest he showed in the child they had created was not strong enough to make him want to keep her around.

“She should hang, too. She is as guilty as he is.” She watched him closely as she spoke, trying to see how he felt.

“Marry me, Antonie."

She gaped at him. She had just about convinced herself that he was going to tell her to go. This abrupt proposal, half question and half command was totally unexpected.

“Why are you looking so surprised? You must've known I'd ask you."

“I thought you were going to tell me to go, that the fight is done now and I must leave."

He moved to stand in front of her. At times she could be a source of great confusion to him. Any other woman would not only expect a proposal, but demand one. She sat there thinking that he would send her and their child away and did not seem to be contemplating anything to change that callous dismissal.

“Antonie, in case you hadn't noticed, you carry my child,” he said sarcastically.

“It is hard not to notice. I cannot button this skirt."

“Do you really think I would be so mean, so hard, as to just tell you to go?"

“What is hard? If you do not want us, it is best. Better to send us away than to hold onto us for only duty."

“Is that all you think I feel for you and the child?"

He looked as if she had insulted him, even hurt him, and she replied a little weakly, “I cannot be sure. We had the fire,
sí?
But, since I was taken by Raoul, you have not touched me."

“Of course not. You were healing, recovering from your wounds, shock, and exhaustion."

“No, I do not mean making love. I mean you have not even touched me. If Raoul had raped me, maybe his men, too, I could think it was that, but they did not. Still, you do not touch me. Here you ask me to marry you, but you stand at distance and do not even take my hand. I am thinking the fire has died in you."

“Oh, no, Antonie. Not by a long shot. It's still strong, maybe stronger than ever. That's why I haven't touched you."

“I do not understand."

“If I touch you, I'm going to want to make love to you. The longer we go without making love, the worse it gets. One of the ways to help keep myself in hand is to keep my hands to myself. Even talking about it has me aching for you.” He smiled crookedly when her gaze fell briefly, then her eyes widened. “I think it's become permanent."

“I am healed now,” she said quietly, her passion immediately stirred by the evidence of his arousal.

“I know. You've been healed enough for that for a while if we were careful. I've been working up the courage to talk about getting married, and I thought it best if we didn't make love until it was all sorted out. I even thought it'd make our wedding night a little more well, special, if we'd suffered a dry spell beforehand. I still do."

He still felt the fire for her and was not prompted by duty alone. Knowing this eased the knot that had formed around Antonie's heart, but she hesitated and did not really know why. Before she had fallen into Raoul's hands Royal's declaration would have been enough.

“What about Marilyn?"

“What does she have to do with this?"

“For a long time you wanted to marry her."

“Antonie, that woman made a fool of me. She wanted to take my land, kill my family. She did kill my parents. Even if I could forgive that, convince myself that she was forced to do such things by her father, I certainly couldn't ignore what was said and done at that shack, what she admitted to doing with Raoul and what she was ready to do with O'Neill."

“O'Neill had a time forgetting it, too,” she murmured, smiling despite her blushes. “He keeps wondering if he was a fool to let his sensibilities get in the way of a good, er—how did he put it?—shag."

“The man shouldn't talk like that in front of you,” Royal said with a shake of his head and a half-smile. “Antonie,” he continued seriously, “I have never had any deep feelings for Marilyn. When I found out the truth, I was angry because I'd been made a fool of and because our family had trusted her and her father. Even before that I'd begun to wonder why I had
ever
thought of marrying her. I suppose it was because she was, well, there and of my world."

“I am not,” she said quietly and hurried on when he prepared to protest. “I am Mexican. Maybe not in blood but in soul, eh? I am a
bandido's
child. I do not know all these ways a lady must know. Maybe that will be a trouble between us later. A big one. Maybe you should think harder on this."

“I've done all the thinking I want to. I'll be honest with you, love. It took me a long time to forget how you were raised."

“You should not forget. It is what I am."

“I know. Forget's the wrong word. Let's say I suddenly saw it was not only Marilyn who made a fool out of me. I was doing a pretty good job of making a fool of myself. Marilyn was what the world would call a lady. She was raised in wealth and comfort, schooled well and all that, but look at the rot it hid. It was suddenly clear to me that all that gloss and that fine background isn't what counts. In truth, I was seeing your background as far worse than it was.

“Juan was a hard man, an outlaw who lived by raiding. Still, he was not cruel. He didn't hate like some of them do. Given half a chance, he could've been a great man in the lawful world. He loved you and did his best to keep you out of his business. He knew his way of life was wrong and didn't want you to follow it. Oh, things could've been a lot better for you, but there's not all that much to fault in that."

Impulsively, she kissed him. She then found herself in the midst of a very heated embrace, but she did not pull back. When he suddenly pulled away and firmly set her at a distance, she was more than a little disappointed. The only thing that kept her from getting somewhat depressed was that she now had proof that he still really desired her, more proof than the earlier visual one. His kiss had held all the same fiery hunger that it always had.