San Antonio Rose (Historical Romance) (29 page)

She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she
didn't realized that Ian had come up beside her
until he spoke.

"That must be a very interesting book to capture your attention so thoroughly."

She held it out for him to examine. "It is. I
first read it two years ago, at my aunt's insistence. I enjoyed it so much that I decided to
read it again."

"Notre Dame de Paris," he said, looking at the
title. "Written by Victor Hugo. So you read
French? A fine accomplishment for a woman."

She glared at him. "As well as French, I
speak Spanish and English-and I speak them
all very well. Would you like to check my teeth?
I have all of them, you know."

He smiled. "I've examined most of your body,
and I found no flaws."

"Oh, but there is a flaw, Ian." She slammed
her hand against the book. "I have a temper! I
do not want any man to think he can intimidate me, and I will have no man as my master."

"Is this the way it is to be between us,
Emerada?"

She slid her hand nervously over the
leather-bound book. "I do not know what you
mean."

"I never want to cause you pain, Emerada. I
suppose I have been feeling guilty because it's
my fault you are having a baby. I can never tell
you how sorry I am."

"Your fault?" Her breath caught in her
throat. Had he guessed that the baby was his?
"What makes you think you are responsible?"

He touched her cheek. "You were chaste
when I made love to you. I know you must despise me for what I did to you. Even if the baby
is Santa Anna's, he didn't take your innocence
from you, as I did."

"I do not hate you, Ian. You are a good man,
an honorable man. And what happened between us was as much my fault as it was yours,
perhaps even more so."

Emerada caught Ian's soft expression, and
her heart throbbed. His eyes reflected the glow
of the flickering flames in the fireplace, and the
blue shimmered with golden light, giving them
the appearance of being made of exquisite
glass.

He tilted her face upward. "I only wish I
could take the sadness from your life. I want to
make you happy."

"That is not a role I expect you to fill, Ian. We
both have our troubles, and I am determined to
face mine alone."

He sat down on the bed, and she panicked.
Just the touch of his hand had awakened her
yearnings for him. When he was this close, she
couldn't reason.

"I will take very good care of you until the
baby comes." He pulled her into his arms, and
she melted against him. "My fiery-tempered little wife. God knows I'll never win you or tame
you."

"Do you want to?" she asked, feeling his
warm breath against her neck and going weak
inside.

"Emerada, I have thought of nothing but you
all day. I couldn't even conduct my business
with the banker without wondering what you
were doing, thinking, feeling."

So he had thought of her, as she had of him.
She couldn't help feeling thrilled by his confession. Hoping her voice sounded normal, she
asked, "You saw a banker?"

He straightened up and reached into his
breast pocket, handing her a document. "This
assures Molly a pension. You didn't say how
much you wanted to give her."

With trembling fingers, she opened the written document. It stated that Molly would be
paid the sum of six hundred dollars each year
for the remainder of her life. She looked up at
him with misty eyes. "It is too much."

"One can never put a price on a faithful servant."

"Thank you, Ian."

He brushed her tears away with his thumb,
then bent his head, his lips settling on hers,
and she slid her arms around his neck.

Oh, she did love him so!

Much to Emerada's disappointment, Ian untangled her arms and stood up, moving away
from her.

"I'm sorry," he said, looking guilty "I didn't
mean for that to happen. It's just that when I
am around you, all I can think about is-"

She opened her book with a snap, hoping her
heart would return to normal. "You have nothing to apologize for. What is so surprising
about a husband kissing his wife on their wedding night? I am sure you enjoyed it quite as
much as I did."

His laughter surprised her. "Emerada, you
are the most amazing woman I've ever met. No
other female of my acquaintance would ever
say the things you do."

"I only say what I think. You already know
this about me. If it offends you, be warned that
I do not intend to change."

"I wouldn't change anything about you. I
hope you will always speak your mind with
me."

She laid her book aside and sank down onto
her pillow. "I find I am very tired. I am going to
sleep."

He came forward and blew out the lamp.
"Sleep well, Mrs. McCain. I doubt I will."

It took Emerada a moment for her eyes to
adjust to the darkness. She watched Ian remove his shirt, then turned her head into the
pillow, aching to be in his arms.

"Good night," she whispered, wishing he
were in bed with her. She yearned to feel his
muscled body against hers, his lips on hers, his
hands finding places on her body that excited
her beyond endurance.

She heard him lie down on the daybed.
"Good night, Emerada," he replied.

The next few days passed in a flurry of activity.
The house had to be closed and most of the furnishings shipped to the town house in Paris.
Emerada could not bear to part with all of her
aunt's possessions. It was decided that
Domingo would remain in New Orleans until
the house was closed and Molly was settled in
her sister's home.

Emerada was in the attic going through her
aunt's trunks, which were filled with beautiful and expensive costumes. She removed a heavy,
red velvet gown that shimmered with gold
inlay.

Her mind reached backward to the time she
had first seen her Aunt Dilena in the red gown.
Her aunt had been like a sparkling jewel and so
very beautiful. Emerada remembered asking
her aunt how she could dance in such a heavy
costume, and she could still hear the sound of
her aunt's voice.

"Yes, Emerada, it is heavy and most uncomfortable, but I owe it to my audience to give my
best performance, so I do not mind the discomfort. This will be true throughout your life in
many different situations. You will find satisfaction and comfort in knowing you have done
your best at whatever you do."

At the time Emerada hadn't understood her
Aunt Dilena's reasoning, but it was perfectly
clear to her now. She was so unsure of the future, but those words were a beacon of hope,
giving her strength for what she must do. She
would remain with Ian until the baby was born
and then leave for Paris, as she had originally
intended.

"Were you daydreaming about when you
wore that beautiful costume and stole men's
hearts, Emerada?"

She had not heard Ian come up the stairs.
"No," she said, lovingly placing the gown back
in the trunk. "This was my Aunt Dilena's gown.
I was remembering the night she wore it."

He glanced about him at all the trunks, some
packed, others spilling over with items. "Does
this all go to Texas?"

"Most of it will go to Paris. Of course, most
of the furniture will be sold with the house."

"If this house means so much to you, why
not keep it? I'll have it restored for you, if you'd
like."

She fastened the leather strap on the trunk
before moving to another. "The person who
made this house a home was my aunt. Now
that she is gone, it is just a house-no, I do not
want to keep it."

"And the one in Paris?"

"I will never sell that house. My aunt loved it
too much."

"Is that why you can't part with her costumes?"

"I suppose. Perhaps someday I will be able to
let them go." She turned to Ian. "I do not know
if I can make you understand. You see, I have
nothing left from my father, since everything
was burned in the fire." She flicked open a
green ostrich-feather fan. "This represents my
past.

"You have been so alone." There was compassion in his voice. "I know what that feels
like."

She smiled slightly, responding to his kindness, "I have had my moments."

"Will you be ready to leave tomorrow?" he
asked, abruptly changing the subject.

"Must we go so soon?" She was almost afraid
to leave her safe haven and live in Ian's world.

"I have stayed away too long now, Emerada. There is so much to do to help form the new republic, and Houston needs all his loyal friends
at this time. We have to make Texas so strong
that Mexico will never again move against us."

"Mexico will hesitate to take Houston on
again. But the time will come when they will
test him, Ian. They will have to. They were humiliated by losing the war and by Santa Anna's
disgraceful actions."

It suddenly struck Ian that he enjoyed discussing politics and the welfare of the new republic with Emerada. She was intelligent and
had a firm understanding of the situation in
Texas. She understood about the fledging nation and many of the difficulties it would face.
And she had done as much as any man to bring
about an independent republic. Although she
had not yet admitted it to herself, she had been
instrumental in toppling Santa Anna.

"There have already been several skirmishes
near the border. We have to make certain that
they don't escalate into another war."

Emerada shuddered. "I pray that I will never
have to witness another war."

Ian glanced at the heavy trunks, which
would take hours to pack. "Shouldn't you have
someone help you with this chore?"

"No. This is something I must do myself."

She lifted a shimmering black mantilla and ran her fingers lovingly over it. "This belonged
to my mother" She placed it over her head, and
the folds fell across her cheek and down her
back.

Ian drew in his breath. She was so beautiful
it hurt to look at her. He took a step toward her
and stopped himself. He didn't want to do anything that would make her reconsider going to
Texas with him.

"I hope you're going to take that. It is very
becoming to you."

She removed the mantilla and gently laid it
aside. "Si-this I will take with me."

"I still have several arrangements to make."
He walked to the stairs. "I will send Domingo
to you. I don't want you to lift any of those
heavy trunks."

Emerada waited for him to leave before she
let out her breath. Whenever Ian was near her,
it was difficult to pretend indifference to him.

Would he learn to care for her, just a little?
No. He loved the woman in Virginia.

Perhaps when they reached Tejas-she heard
his footsteps fade down the steps. No, she must
not give herself false hopes. Perhaps it was
enough that she loved him.

Ian had made sure the coach that would take
them to Texas was well sprung and the seats
comfortable, since it would be difficult for
Emerada to travel in her condition.

As the coach bounced over the rutted road, Emerada had to brace herself by gripping the
leather handhold. Ian was sitting across from
her with his hat pulled down over his face and
his booted feet resting on the seat beside her.

Suddenly the coach hit a deep rut, lurched,
and she went flying out of her seat to fall
against Ian.

When he finally untangled her from a flurry
of petticoats, he held her to his side. "Are you
hurt?"

"No, not at all."

"The ride will be smoother when we get to
the dryer region. The recent rains have caused
deep ruts in the road here."

Emerada laughed as she remembered their
first meeting. "It seems I am always falling into
your arms."

He pressed her head to his shoulder. "Let it
always be so," he said beneath his breath.

She pulled away. "What did you say?"

"It's of no importance. I will remark, however, on what a charming traveling companion
you are. I have not heard a complaint from you,
although the going has been rough at times.
Especially for a woman in your condition."

Emerada yawned and laid her head against
Ian's shoulder. She felt his deep intake of
breath, and his arm settled around her. She
was content to rest against his chest, listening
to the steady beat of his heart.

She loved his courage and his commitment
to what he believed in. He was a man who would always do what was right, not because
others expected it of him, but because he expected it of himself.

Her eyes drifted shut, and she fell contentedly asleep.

Emerada didn't know when Ian laid his
cheek against her head, nor did she feel his lips
rest against her cheek. She didn't know his
muscles tightened and he held her, loverlike, in
his arms.