San Antonio Rose (Historical Romance) (28 page)

"So it would seem. I'm still in the Texas
army and must fulfill my duties, Emerada. I
believe I can safely say that you will not have to endure my presence, except on rare occasions." He wiped the raindrops on his forehead with his coatsleeve. "Is this arrangement
to your satisfaction?"

She searched his face for evidence of the
gentleness she'd seen in him at Talavera when
he had planted his seed in her. This Ian was
more like the man she'd first met, a cold, impersonal stranger.

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him the
truth, but she caught herself just in time. "I
have no objections to the arrangement."

"Have you any objections to leaving New
Orleans?"

Emerada shook her head. "No, none."

The carriage hit a bump, and he grabbed her
to steady her, and then released her. "For the
baby's sake, we must sometimes give the appearance of a happily married couple."

"I understand," she said, turning away from
him to stare out the window. "For the baby's
sake."

The wedding took place in the rectory of St.
Louis Cathedral, with Domingo and Molly as
witnesses. Emerada wore a soft blue gown
with a matching mantilla. Ian wore a black
coat and trousers, his hair neatly combed, his
manner curt and dispassionate. He was solemn
throughout the whole ceremony, and Emerada
noticed that he didn't once look at her, not even
when he slid the gold band on her finger. His
detached attitude wounded her deeply, and she
supposed he was thinking of the woman back
in Virginia.

On the carriage ride back to the house, continuous rain pelted the carriage, contributing
to Emerada's gloomy mood. She had just been married to the man she loved, but she didn't
feel like a happy bride.

As the dancer, San Antonio Rose, Emerada
had been adored and loved by many men, but
not by the one who really mattered-not by her
new husband.

"We have not spoken about our life together,
Ian. What do you expect of me?"

His glance settled on her, but she could read
nothing in those piercing blue eyes. "I expect
nothing from you, Emerada. Your life will be
your own. All I ask is that you do nothing to endanger yourself or the child. I know how impulsive you can be at times."

She felt her anger rise, but she managed to
control it. She turned her head away and
stared out into the rain. "As you wish."

The carriage came to a halt, but Ian made no
attempt to disembark, and she looked at him
inquiringly.

"You have not said what you will expect from
me, Emerada."

She wanted to throw her arms around him
and beg him to hold her. She was frightened by
the unknown future that yawned before her.
While she had pursued Santa Anna, she'd had a
purpose. Now she had none.

"I want nothing from you, Ian. I am grateful
to you for marrying me-not many men would
have been so thoughtful. But this is a marriage
that neither of us wanted. Under those circum stances, I do not think we should try to pretend
with each other."

Ian glanced at her quickly. "What do you
mean?"

"Just that we should not pretend to have
emotions that we do not feel for each other."

"I see." He shoved the door open and stepped
out into the rain, offering her his hand.

Domingo was waiting with an umbrella to
usher them inside the house, where the delicious aroma of food wafted through the air.

"Evidently Molly has prepared one of her exceptional meals. She prepares excellent French
cuisine, Ian. I will be sorry to leave her."

"I believe we can accommodate her if you
want to take her with you."

She stood near the doorway while he advanced into the parlor. "Molly is getting on in
years, and she has told me that she does not
want to leave New Orleans." Emerada looked
up at him, undecided, finding it unpleasant to
have to ask her new husband for money. "If
you could lend me enough money to pension
Molly off, I would repay you just as soon I sell
this house." Her expression was troubled.
"You see, she served my aunt for many years,
and Aunt Dilena would expect me to provide
for her old age." She ducked her head. "Aunt
Dilena was so young, she never considered
that she might... die; therefore, she made no
provision for poor Molly."

Suddenly her eyes opened in dismay. "Forgive me, Ian. I was so thoughtless. You may not
have the money for Molly's pension. And you
have already done so much for me."

"I have the means, Emerada. You have but to
tell me the amount you need."

"Thank you. But there is more, Ian. Domingo
goes with me. I will not leave him behind-not
that he would let me go anywhere without
him."

He noticed how pale she was. "Sit down,
Emerada. We need to discuss a few things."

She eased down on a chair and waited for
him to continue.

"I once told you a little about myself. Perhaps I should explain more at this time."

"It is not necessary."

He moved to the fireplace and rested his arm
on the mantel. "I believe it is, Emerada." He
paused briefly, as if choosing his words carefully. "I told you that my mother and father
were never married."

"Ian," she said softly. "That makes no difference to me. If not for our marriage, my baby
would know the same fate. I thought a lot
about that when you asked me to marry you."
She looked at him earnestly. "I will save you
some time. The baby is the only reason I agreed
to marry you, and that is the only reason you
asked me to marry you. There. I have saved us
both the trouble of explaining our feelings."

He took the poker and moved the logs around until rekindled flames warmed the
room. Then he turned back to her. "I want you
to understand about my circumstances-I believe it's important."

"If you wish."

"My grandfather, my father's father, was a
wealthy landowner. When he died, he left
everything to me."

Emerada considered his words. "You are
telling me that you have money?"

"I am telling you that I am considered
wealthy, Emerada. It will be no hardship for
me to pension off Molly or to see that Domingo
has suitable lodgings."

Shame stained her cheeks. She wished there
had been another way to help Molly. She was
being drawn further and further into Ian's
debt. "I thank you, and I will repay you one
day-you have my word on that."

He drew in an agitated breath. "Damn it!" he
said in a growl. "I don't want you to repay me,
Emerada."

She gathered her shawl about her, feeling
suddenly cold. "But I will. It is important to me
that I own no one, not even you." She shook
her head. "Aunt Dilena was quite wealthy, but
she lived lavishly. When I paid off her debts,
there was little left just this house and the
one in France."

He frowned and glanced at the flickering
flames. "Obviously my wealth has made no impression on you."

"Did you think it would? Surely you cannot
believe I married you for money. My father had
wealth, and I was raised having everything I
wanted. I would rather have my family back
than all the wealth in the world."

"I sensed you would feel that way," Ian said
tolerantly. "The point I'm trying to make in my
own clumsy fashion is that I can and will take
care of you financially."

Molly appeared at the door, smiling brightly,
increasing the tiny, weblike wrinkles that
fanned out about her eyes. "If you please, luncheon is ready."

Ian walked to the door and held his arm out
to Emerada. "Shall we dine, Mrs. McCain?"

Emerada placed her hand on his arm, thinking their behavior was proper and formal
enough for two strangers, but stilted and awkward for a man and woman who had just become husband and wife.

The meal was as strained as the earlier part of
the day had been. Emerada sat at one end of
her aunts dark pine table, which shone so
brightly she could see her reflection in it, and
Ian sat at the other end. She hardly tasted a
bit of the food that Molly had prepared for
them.

Emerada stared down at her plate, pushing a
puffy tart around with her fork. When she
looked up, she found Ian staring at her with the
strangest expression on his face. She knew in that moment that he was remembering their
time together at Talavera, and she blushed.

"You hardly ate anything," he said, standing
and moving around the table to sit beside her.
"Shouldn't you eat for the baby's sake?"

"I have no appetite," was the only reply she
was capable of making under the scrutiny of
his brilliant blue eyes.

"I have business to conduct this afternoon.
Will you mind if I leave you for a while?"

Mind! Of course she minded-it was her
wedding day. "Not at all," she managed to say.
"It will give me a chance to go over some details with my attorney."

"I should return by the dinner hour. If I'm
not back by seven, eat without me." He took
out his pocket watch and checked the time.
"Yes, I can just about make it."

Emerada wondered where he was going, but
she would rather cut out her tongue than ask.
"After I see my attorney, I have errands of my
own," she said matter-of-factly. "If I am not
here when you return, make yourself at home."

He smiled and bowed. "You're too kind."

When Ian had almost reached the door, she
called out to him. "I saw your traveling bag in
the entryway. I will have Domingo see to it for
you. Do you prefer a bedroom with a view of
the front of the house, or would you rather
overlook the garden?"

He walked back to her and drew in a deep
breath. "Emerada, I prefer to share your room."

Her breath quickened, and she looked down
at her clasped hands. "We have not discussed
this. I thought that-"

He held up his hand to silence her and
glanced at the door to make certain that Molly
and Domingo could not overhear. "I believe we
should begin our marriage with the appearance of harmony, beginning with the servants."

"But-"

"Emerada, don't concern yourself that I will
trouble you with unwanted attention-I won't
bother you at all."

Before she could answer, he moved to the
door. "I'll tell Domingo to place my belongings
in your bedroom."

When he disappeared down the hallway, she
sank back against her chair. Ian was very
clever. She could hardly go to Domingo and tell
him to move Ian to another room-not after
her new husband instructed him to put his belongings in her bedroom.

"Insufferable man," she muttered, standing
up and throwing her napkin on the table.
"Headstrong, manipulative man!"

She had been a wife less than a day, and already she regretted her decision to marry Ian.

The sun had gone down long before, and still Ian
hadn't returned. Emerada lay in bed, listening to
every carriage that rattled down the street.

She turned up the wick on the lamp and
stared at the page of the book she was reading, or rather attempting to read. Her eyes went
across the room to Ian's traveling bag, and she
glared at it as if it were Ian himself.

A tear rolled down her cheek, and she angrily
brushed it away. This was not the dream she'd
always had of her wedding night. She didn't
even know where her husband was, and when
he did return, there would be no loving arms to
hold her.

She must never forget, not even for a moment, that Ian had married her for only the
sake of the child.

It was only moments later when Emerada
heard a carriage stop at the front of the house.
She gripped her book so tightly that her knuckles whitened; then she took a deep breath. She
had faced far worse than an uninterested husband in the last year. She could surely handle
Ian with little trouble.

She heard his footsteps coming down the
hall, and the light rap on the door.

"Come in."

Ian entered the room, his glance settling on
her. Emerada's hair spilled across her shoulders like shimmering black satin. Her white
nightgown was modest, with a high neck and
long sleeves with lace that fell across her
wrists. She glanced up at him and smiled
tightly, then went back to reading her book.

"I'm sorry to be so late. I'm glad you didn't
wait to eat dinner with me."

Emerada felt as if she couldn't draw her breath. When Ian was in a room, he seemed to
fill it with his very essence. He looked so handsome-so magnificent. He was all male, and he
knew it.

"Molly kept your dinner warm for you," she
said.

"She needn't have bothered. I already ate."

She wondered what kind of business had
kept him in town, and with whom he'd dined,
but she would never ask. "I put you on the
daybed," she said, nodding across the room. "I
hope you will find it comfortable."

Ian moved to the fireplace and held his
hands out to the flames. "I'm sure I will."

Emerada glanced back at her book, determined to ignore him. He had, after all, left her
alone most of the day. Even if theirs wasn't a
real marriage, he should have been more considerate of her feelings.