Heart of Thunder (37 page)

“But will you do it yourself?”

Jean’s bright blue eyes narrowed. “I do not think so. She is too lovely.”

“Jean!”

He chuckled. “Do not fault me for appreciating beauty, Teresa. If I did not, I would not have fallen in love with you. But do not worry. I know a man who will kill anyone for a price.”

“But can we afford him?”

“Oh, it will cost nothing. When he is through, I will get rid of him. I have no trouble killing scum.”

“When?”

“Tomorrow night, I think. She is joining you for the charity ball?”

“Yes.”

“Then she will be worn out afterward and will sleep soundly. The only difficulty will be getting her and the boy out of the house without being seen.”

“But how will you get into the house undetected?”

“No problem. As far as Sheldon knows, I am unaware that he won’t be home tomorrow night. I will stop by on some pretense after Sheldon and Samantha have gone to the ball. Wilkes will offer me refreshment even though Sheldon is not home. When he leaves to get it, I will leave a note saying I couldn’t wait, and then go upstairs and hide myself until the time is right. Wilkes will think I have left the house, and Sheldon won’t think anything of it when Wilkes tells him I stopped by.”

“You will be careful, won’t you,
querido?
”

“Of course,
chérie
. Our future and the Blackstone fortune depends on caution and good planning.”

Chapter 44

“Y
OU dress to entice, eh?” Froilana remarked as she brought out Samantha’s rose-colored shawl that matched her gown.

“Of course not,” Samantha scoffed.

“But this gown is cut so low—”

“It is fashionable, Lana, and that’s all.” Samantha cut her off. “And do stop picking on me. This is an important ball. You want me to look nice, don’t you?”

“Nice? I think you dress for him.”

“And I think you presume too much!” Samantha snapped, whirling away from the mirror. Her toilet was complete, and she looked stunning. “Besides, he isn’t coming.”

“He always refuses to join you and your
hermano
because he knows you do not want him along. But he usually shows up at the parties anyway because he cannot bear to be away from you.”

“What utter nonsense. Hank doesn’t care what I do. He has insisted on staying here only because of Jaime.”

“La, how you deceive yourself, Sam.”

“Oh, stop it! I am tired of listening to your fairy tales, Lana. Hank has only one interest here, and that is his son.”

“When you enter a room, his eyes do not leave you. What is that if not—”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“And you refuse to see what is obvious!” Froilana shouted back.

“Oh!”

Samantha stalked out of the room. She and Froilana seemed always to argue lately, and always about Hank. And he no doubt overheard many of those arguments, his room being across from hers. How that must amuse him! How frustrating to have her own servant be his staunchest ally.

Froilana was simply enthralled by his good looks, that was all. But Samantha knew him for what he was, a man who would do anything to get what he wanted.

And now he wanted his son. Why? That was the perplexing part. He had taunted her with this child before it was even known to them. He had said it would be her child, that she would raise it, she would love it, without his having any part in it. Now suddenly that was all changed. Since the night of Jaime’s birth, she had lived with the fear that Hank would try to take the boy from her.

It was a constant fear, and it made her distrust Hank’s every action, every word. It made her always defensive, always antagonistic. It was a shield, too, that she used to block out her own feelings. It was simply easier to hate Hank than to accept her other feelings.

They stood on the edge of the room, watching as young couples and older ones swirled past on the parquet ballroom floor. The large room was aglitter with lights and the dazzling colors of exquisite ballgowns. Teresa was unusually quiet. Jean Merimée was absent, for once, and Samantha wondered if that was the reason for Teresa’s subdued mood, for she was usually quite vivacious when the Frenchman was around. It was appalling to see the amount of attention Teresa devoted to Jean. And Sheldon didn’t seem to notice, to know he was being cheated. But Samantha did. She had tried making excuses for Teresa’s behavior toward Jean, but it was no good. The looks, the intimacy of feeling between them, it was too obvious. Why couldn’t Sheldon see it?

Sheldon left to get refreshments, and Samantha stood stiffly beside Teresa. She didn’t feel like sparring with the Spanish woman. She was in a bad mood to begin with, and if she got started, she might come right out and accuse Teresa of infidelity. That wouldn’t do. She had no proof, and there was already enough animosity between them.

Several of Sheldon’s acquaintances asked Samantha to dance, but she declined. She would have accepted if Hank had been there, but he wasn’t. She wished she hadn’t come. She wished she were home with Jaime. The only reason she attended these parties and dinners with Sheldon was to spite Hank, to show him that she could go out and have fun without giving him a single thought. But when Hank had stopped coming along to witness all the supposed fun she was having, the spice went out of it. It all became boring and tedious, and she often took her discontent out on Teresa. Not that the woman wasn’t deserving, but Samantha didn’t like to be quite so bitchy.

It was all Hank’s fault. If he would go away, if she could just stop thinking about him…

Sheldon returned with their refreshments, bringing some friends of his Samantha hadn’t met before. She didn’t pay particular attention to the introductions, but she couldn’t help staring at the tall man and his beautiful wife. They were such a handsome couple, and, noting the closeness between them, Samantha was struck with envy. Her attention picked up when Texas was mentioned.

“…one of the Maitland holdings was a ranch there, and Angela and I decided to make that our home.”

“What a coincidence,” Teresa remarked. “Samantia is from Texas, as well. You do not know each other?”

The man grinned. “Afraid not, Miss Palacio. Texas isn’t exactly a small state.”

“What brings you to England, Bradford?” Sheldon asked. “Just a visit?”

“A delayed honeymoon, actually. I wanted Angela to see England in the spring, but we couldn’t make it last year because we were too busy building a new ranchhouse.”

“You didn’t tell me you had American friends, Sheldon,” Samantha couldn’t help pointing out. She knew his aversion to what he called her “American habits,” and was quite surprised to see him so friendly with this man. “You haven’t been to Texas, have you?”

“No, my dear. I met Bradford here quite a few years ago. His family owns an estate not too far from Blackstone.”

“And how do you like it here—Angela?” Samantha asked the lovely brunette with the violet eyes.

“It’s a bit colder than I’m used to.” Angela smiled.

“I know what you mean. I spent the winter here for the first time in eleven years and like to froze my—”

“Samantha!” Sheldon exclaimed.

“Oh, relax, Shelly,” Samantha chided, receiving an even darker look for using the nickname.

Bradford Maitland burst out laughing, his golden-brown eyes alight. “A girl after my own heart, Sheldon old man. You should have told me you had such a spunky sister. I would have called on her when I returned to America.”

Angela jabbed Bradford in the ribs. “Just remember you’re a married man now, Bradford Maitland,” she said sternly. He drew her closer and whispered something that made her giggle.

Samantha grinned. She liked these two. They were open, not afraid to show their affection or their tempers in public. It must be wonderful to be that happy, she thought wistfully.

“Well, look who has decided to join us after all,” Teresa purred.

Samantha turned, expecting to see Jean Meri
ee. But it was Hank walking toward them. The blood suddenly raced through her as she thought of her daringly
cut gown. She would ignore him, of course. Now she would have to dance with other men.

She watched his approach. His eyes were not on her, but on Bradford and Angela Maitland, who were watching him closely, the young woman smiling in delighted amazement, the handsome man scowling.

“I don’t believe it!” Angela cried with undisguised pleasure. “Hank Chavez!”

“Angelina.” Hank grinned, taking both of her hands. “Still as beautiful as ever. And still with this one, eh?” He nodded to her husband.

“Damned right she is!” Bradford replied stiffly. “She’s my wife, now.”

“Ah, well, I did not think otherwise,
mi amigo
,” Hank said softly, his eyes twinkling. “Though, what she sees in you I will never understand.”

“Just keep your distance,” Bradford warned, and Samantha was shocked because he was perfectly serious.

“Both of you stop it,” Angela broke in, and the men looked away from each other. “Is this any way to act with old friends?”

“He is still as jealous as ever, eh?” Hank whispered to Angela, and Bradford glowered. Hank chuckled. “Relax,
amigo
. You have met my wife, have you not? How can you think I have eyes for another woman when I have a wife as lovely as Samantha?”

“She’s
your
wife? Well, I’ll be damned.” Bradford began to relax. “Congratulations.”

“I’m so happy for you, Hank,” Angela added.

“I would be happy, too, if she would not shoot daggers at me with her eyes,” Hank replied with mock gravity. “I think we both have jealous spouses, eh, little one?” He winked at Angela. “I had better attend mine now, before she thinks I ignore her too much.”

Samantha was so furious that she actually saw red. Angela…Angelina…this was Hank’s love, the woman he had spoken of so often, the woman he had called out for when he was beaten and delirious. And here Sa
mantha had been, standing and talking to her, actually liking her—oh! And to listen to them, and
him
, calling her jealous! How utterly preposterous. Jealous?!

“Dance with me,
querida?
”

“No!” she hissed, but Hank ignored her refusal and swung her out onto the dance floor.

“I think our friend there has a definite problem on his hands,” Bradford remarked to Angela, drawing her onto the dance floor, as well.

“No more of a problem than I have,” Angela returned meaningfully.

Bradford grunted at the reference to his own jealousy. It had nearly cost him the woman he loved. “He’s lucky, though. She’s a beauty.”

“Oh, I think she’s just as lucky.”

“Do you?”

“But not nearly as lucky as I am.”

Bradford beamed proudly and pulled his wife closer. “How I love you, Angel.”

Samantha saw Bradford and Angela twirl past on the dance floor and her eyes glittered green fire. “Let go of me, Hank. I’m warning you.” She tried once again to break loose but couldn’t.

“You would not cause a scene, would you,
gatita?
Your brother is watching.”

“I don’t care!”

“Why are you so angry?”

“I’m not angry!” she retorted furiously, and then hissed. “How dare you embarrass me like that? How dare you accuse me of being jealous?”

He raised a brow, amused. “You were not?”

“No!”

“Then why do you kill me with your eyes?”

“You embarrassed me, damn you!” Her voice drew surprised glances, but Samantha didn’t care, so blind with fury was she. “What must Teresa think, seeing you fawn all over that woman, and with her husband right there?”

“Since when do you care what Teresa thinks? You are not even civil to her.”

“Well—my brother, then!”

“I only greeted an old friend, Sam. You make more of it than there is.”

“An old friend, my foot! You think I don’t know who she is? That’s your Angelina! You loved her!”

“I wanted her.”

“You still do!”

“No, Samina, it is you I want.”

“Ha!”

“It is time I proved it to you. Tonight, when the house is quiet, I will come to you.”

Samantha gasped. “You do and you’ll meet the point of my gun,” she said stonily.

Hank drew back, surprised. “You brought your gun to this civilized land?”

“It goes wherever I go.”

He sighed. “You disappoint me, Sam. I suppose you would shoot me as you did that miner in Denver?”

She stumbled as the words took hold, and he caught her. “How did you know about that?”

“I was there. I’ve always wanted to know why you shot that man so many times.”

“Because he wouldn’t leave me alone,” she replied, adding, “Just like you.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Take it however you please,” she retorted stiffly.

Hank leaned closer and whispered, “I think I would not mind a few bullet holes if it meant having you again.”

The softness of his voice unnerved her. His proximity had weakened her, as it always did. Suddenly Angela was forgotten.

“Hank…”

“It has been a long time,
querida
.”

“Hank, don’t.”

“Have you forgotten what it is like?”