San Antonio Rose (Historical Romance) (27 page)

For three days Emerada kept a vigil at the
front window. Every time a carriage approached, her heart would leap to her throat.
When it didn't stop, she would be crushed with
disappointment.

On the fourth day Emerada paced the length
of the veranda, knowing she could not go on
this way. If she remained in New Orleans, she
would always have that small hope in the back
of her mind that Ian would come for her. Also,
there would always be the fear that he would
find out about the baby.

She hurried into the house, calling Domingo.
She found him in the workroom, shining her
black leather boots.

"I have come to a decision," she told him. "Tomorrow I want you to go to the dock and
make arrangements for us to sail for France."

He was accustomed to Emerada's impulsiveness, so, undaunted, he asked the practical
question. "Have we money?"

"I have decided to sell some of my aunt's jewels. Then, when this house sells, we will have
enough money to last until I can dance."

Domingo nodded, knowing she had it all
worked out in her mind. Emerada was the
most capable woman he'd ever known. What
worried him was that she had no fear. She was
unaware of the times he'd had to protect her
from trouble of her own making. She didn't
know about all the men he'd had to keep away
from her. He'd broken a few arms and cracked
a few heads to keep her safe. But he was getting old, and the time might come when he
could no longer protect her. What would happen to her then?

"I will see to it tomorrow. Will I need a ticket
for Molly?"

"No, Domingo. Molly will not want to leave
New Orleans. I will have to make other
arrangements for her." She looked wistful. "Although I would like to have her with me when
the baby comes."

He nodded and went back to polishing her
boots-this was the first time she'd mentioned
the baby to him. He hummed at his work,
thinking he could live in France as well as anywhere, as long as he was near Emerada. After all, he'd promised her father that he would always take care of her. It seemed she was going
to need him more than ever now that there was
a little one on the way.

Ian waited for the maid to answer his knock.
Business for Houston had kept him occupied
for the last week. Now he was ready to return
to Texas, but he couldn't go without seeing
Emerada once more.

Domingo opened the door and nodded for
him to enter. "Senorita Emerada is not in,
Senor McCain. You may wait for her, but she
will be gone for most of the day."

"I had planned on leaving later today. Could
you tell me where I can find her?"

The big man was silent for a moment. "Si. Do
you know where the cemetery is located?"

"I can find it."

"She went there to place flowers on her
aunt's grave."

Ian thanked him and retraced his steps to the
carriage. When he thought about Emerada, it
was with such a deep ache. She had been so
young and innocent, and he sometimes felt
guilty that he'd taken advantage of her. There
was so much left unsaid between them. It
would probably never be said now.

The carriage moved down the street, and he
leaned back, wondering what his life would be
like if he could never see Emerada again.

A midmorning shower had left pools of water
on the uneven walkway, and Emerada stepped
cautiously around them. When she reached her
aunt's tomb, she stared silently up at the monument that rose like a sentinel above the grave.
It was a white marble angel with spread wings,
its gaze looking toward heaven. She placed the
roses on the monument and dropped to her
knees, bowing her head in prayer.

And that was the way Ian found her.

Not wanting to intrude on her mourning, he
waited for her to finish her prayer. He was glad
for the chance to observe Emerada without
her being aware of it. A warm breeze lifted the
curls from her shoulders, and he could almost
feel the texture of her hair. Since the cobblestones were rough, she had used her shawl to
kneel upon. He wondered if she might be cold.
She easily became ill when she was chilled. He
exhaled a tortured breath. Would he ever stop
worrying about her?

Emerada made the sign of the cross and stood,
her face once more turned upward to the winged
angle. Ian's loving gaze began at her slender neck
and worked downward. Her bodice was loose,
but he could still see the outline of her firm
breasts. He liked her in yellow; it made her skin
glow. Yes, there was definitely a glow about her.
As his gaze moved to her waist, he froze.

Emerada heard someone beside her, and
turned to meet Ian's gaze. He looked confused, and she wondered why.

"I did not expect you here, Ian McCain," she
said, reaching for her shawl. That was when
she realized her mistake; she should have kept
the shawl in place to conceal her rounded
stomach!

She could tell from his stricken expression
that Ian knew about the baby.

"My God, Emerada, why didn't you let me
know? You could have written me, and I would
have come right away."

Her hand trembled, and she knotted her
shawl, twisting the delicate fringe around
her finger so tightly it turned blue. "If you
are referring to my baby, it is none of your
concern, Ian. There was no reason for me to
tell you."

He came closer to her, and she quickly
stepped back.

"Is it mine?"

The fact that he could ask such an insulting
question made it easy to speak the lie that was
forming in her mind. She certainly didn't want
him to feel any responsibility toward her or the
baby.

"This baby is not yours."

Emerada saw him flinch at her words.

"Then it has to be Santa Anna's baby."

She let her silence confirm his suspicion.

Emerada saw his outraged expression, but
he quickly pushed his anger aside. "It doesn't
matter who the father is; you need a husband. There are too many children without fathers.
This one will have a name-mine."

"You take too much for granted, Ian. Do you
feel it is your duty to offer me marriage as gratitude from the great Republic of Texas, for services rendered?"

The muscles in his neck tightened from the
obvious restraint he was exercising over his
anger. "How could you think that? I know you
don't want to marry Santa Anna, even if he
were free to marry you-that leaves only me."

Her heart was crying, Say you love me, say
you love me, and I will be in your arms-I will
tell you that you are my baby's true father.

"You owe me nothing, Ian, just as I owe you
nothing. Why would you think I want your
name for my child? What makes you think I
want a husband-any husband?" She moved
down the walkway, and he followed her. "I will
admit that your offer is magnanimous, Ian.
However, I would never have thought you so
charitable as to offer marriage."

"Then you don't know me at all. Do you think
I care who the father is? I will be a father to
your child."

She paused and looked up at him, hoping
the misery she felt didn't reflect in her eyes. "I
believe I have something to say about that.
And, as I recall, you are already betrothed to a
woman in Virginia."

"That is not a concern." He studied her face
closely. "I am beginning to understand. You don't want to marry me because I was also born
without benefit of a father. Is that your reason,
Emerada?"

Anguish seemed carved into his face. Ian
turned away from her and glanced back at the
marble angel that loomed above her aunt's
tomb. "Would she have approved of your having this child without marriage?"

"I do not know." She shook her head, realizing how deeply she had hurt him. She should
have remembered how troubled he was over
the manner of his own birth. He was offering
to help her, even though he believed the baby
was Santa Anna's.

"I appreciate how you feel, Ian." She placed
her hand on his arm. "This child will not suffer
as you have. I will make certain of that. You
see, this baby will be born in France, and
someday I will tell my baby how heroic his father was."

He spun around, his eyes searching hers.
"Then you will lie to the child. Will you tell the
child that his father was willing to let his men
die while he hid in the swamps like a sniveling
coward? Or will you tell the child that his real
father had his grandfather and uncles put to
death?"

She felt hot tears gather behind her lashes.
"My baby will know everything when the time
comes."

"I can't accept the fact that you are so callous
about the baby's future. I know what it feels like to have no father. Would you condemn
your baby to that fate?"

"My child will not know who Santa Anna is,
Ian. France is a long way away. You lived with
your father's name, although it was not legally
yours. So will this child."

She could tell Ian was struggling with his
next words. "So you allowed that butcher to
put his hands on you, just so you could destroy
him. You risked having his child so you could
have your revenge. I don't understand that kind
of reasoning, and I don't believe your family
would have thanked you for allowing the dictator to impregnate you!"

Her sadness turned to anger at his accusations. "Yet you think it was perfectly all right
for me to let you make love to me?" She curled
her hands into fists. Nothing would ever induce
her to tell him the truth now. Not after he'd
hurled insults at her head. "Do not forget that I
kept Santa Anna distracted so your army could
overpower him. Surely that was worth a little
sacrifice?"

They glared at each other for a long moment;
then she spoke. "I have nothing more to say to
you, Ian McCain."

She watched his features harden, as if he was
trying to comprehend all she'd told him. He
shrugged. "Perhaps I'm wrong. You may have
liked that man's hands on you. I have heard
that many women do."

She turned and hurried toward her carriage, unmindful of the puddles of water. She had
nothing more to say to Ian, ever!

Suddenly Ian gripped her arm and spun her
around. "I was not finished talking to you."

"Do you expect to force me to listen to you?
For that is what you will have to do-force me.
I never want to see you again."

He didn't loosen his grip on her for fear she
would take flight. He could feel the rise and
fall of her breasts as he gripped her tighter
against him. "This baby will have my name,
Emerada. Think about it-I give the child my
name, you go back to Texas with me and remain until the child is born, and then you are
free to go where you will. I will make no demands on you, and you will make none on me.
The final result will be that your child will
have a name. Is the baby not worth a small
sacrifice?"

She was astonished by his offer. "You are
saying if I marry you, neither of us will be tied
to the other?"

He stepped away from her, cramming his
hands in his pockets because he didn't know
what else to do with them. He stared at a
branch that swayed in the wind, just above
Emerada's head. "I merely want to make it
clear that if you many me, you will be free to
leave after the baby arrives."

She knew she was going to agree to marry
him because of the baby. He would never have
to know that the child she bore was indeed his. She would go with him to Tejas, have the baby,
and then return to France.

She remembered him telling her about the
woman that he was betrothed to in Virginia.
She couldn't say he had ever kept his feelings
for the woman a secret. He must love Pauline
very much, although he had shared beautiful,
intimate moments with Emerada. Emerada
would steal only a little from the woman for
her baby's sake. Then Ian would be free to go to
his Pauline.

"If I marry you, Ian, will you promise to give
me my freedom after the baby is born?"

"You have my word that the day you give
birth, you will be free of me forever."

"Is that a promise?"

"I gave you my word, and I never go back on
my word."

She straightened her shoulders and looked
into his eyes. "I have always found you to be
trustworthy. I will marry you, have this child,
and then take up my life again."

He nodded and held out his arm to her. "It's a
bargain."

A sudden clap of thunder shook the ground,
and it started raining hard. Ian hurried Emerada to his carriage and told her to wait while
he dismissed her driver.

Emerada leaned back, dabbing rain from her
face with her lace handkerchief, wondering if
she'd lost her mind. She had just agreed to
marry Ian, knowing he loved someone else. She must be begging for heartache. She'd tried
to convince herself that she was marrying Ian
only for the baby, but she couldn't lie to herself.
She loved Ian, and the thought of never seeing
him again had been so painful she could hardly
endure it.

Her face burned with shame for allowing Ian
to believe that she had been intimate with
Santa Anna. It made her sick inside that Ian
would always believe she had allowed Santa
Anna to touch her. She'd found out the day of
the battle that she would have killed either
Santa Anna or herself before she would have
allowed that monster to make love to her. Why
didn't Ian know that about her?

Ian climbed into the coach and sat opposite
her. "You are soaked. We had better get you
home."

"Where will we live in Tejas, Ian?"

"I have been assigned the sad duty of helping
rebuild San Antonio. I believe there is a boardinghouse where you'll be quite comfortable
until I can find something more suitable."

Emerada was glad for the opportunity to talk
of something other than her and the baby.
"What a sad task you have ahead of you, Ian.
There will be so many people who will need
help, and so much destroyed that must be rebuilt."