Page 34 of Midnight Rider

She chuckled. “You are wonderfully wicked.”

“Oh, yes.” He kissed her once more, savoring her mouth, and moved away with obvious reluctance. “I must take you home. Before I get any more wicked ideas.”

“How long are your grandmother and Lupe going to stay?” she asked, because it was as well to find out now.

“For the summer,” he said, confirming her worst fears. He glanced at her with a smile. “They won’t intrude when we’re married. We’ll have an entire wing of our own, far away from them.”

“Well, that’s all right, then.”

He picked up the reins and guided the horse back onto the narrow dirt road. “I’m truly sorry that things went so badly this afternoon with my grandmother,” he told her. “She’s old and she has fixed ideas about marriage. You’ll get used to her.”

“I’m sure I will,” she lied.

He glanced at her and smiled. “She’s not so bad, Bernadette. She had a hard life with my grandfather. He kept a mistress the whole of their married life. When my father was born, my grandfather was off traveling with the woman.”

“Was your father an only child?”

He nodded. “His death was a vicious blow to her, especially the way it occurred. My mother’s scandalous behavior, my father’s decline, then his sudden demise.”

“Yes,” she said sadly. “It must have been terrible for your grandmother...and for you.”

“It was. My mother never wept, never grieved, never offered me or anyone else comfort. She was far too preoccupied with her lover of the moment.” His face hardened. “I was eight years old.”

She grimaced. “I could never leave my child alone under those...or any other circumstances,” she said absently, thinking aloud.

“I know that. But she could, and did. She went to New York.” He stared ahead with cold eyes. “I haven’t seen her or heard from her in all those years. She closed the door between us and never looked back. My grandmother classes all American women with her and hates the idea of my marrying you for that reason.”

“I understand,” she said, and did. “I’ll try to get along with your family, Eduardo.”

“They have faults,” he said. “ButAbuelamatters to me, just as your father and brother matter in many ways to you.” He scowled. “Will you let your brother know about our marriage?”

“Of course. I’ll write to him. Albert and I are so far apart in age that we’ve never been really close. But he’ll remember you,” she assured him. “And I think he’ll be happy for me. I am for him. He and my father never got along, especially after my sister was forced to marry against her will.”

He frowned. “Tell me truly, you aren’t allowing your father to make you do something you don’t want to? Our marriage has your consent as well as his?”

“You know it does,” she said firmly. “My father isn’t really a bad man. Perhaps he will learn one day that we are not the masters of our own destiny. There’s a divinity that shapes events and people.”

“You know that, at your age, and he hasn’t learned it.”

She chuckled. “My father is a conundrum.” She glanced at him mischievously. “Like your grandmother.”

He shook his head. “What a tangle we have to work our way through to marry. But we will,” he added, smiling at her. “And we’re going to build our ranch into an empire. You will see.”

“I can’t wait,” she said enthusiastically. She averted her eyes so that he wouldn’t see the love shining out of them.

CHAPTER EIGHT

BERNADETTEWASVERYUNEASYabout having Eduardo’s grandmother and Lupe in residence while the marriage arrangements were made. She knew in her heart that the two women were going to make things as difficult as possible for her. She wasn’t afraid of them, or intimidated by them, but she was wary. And she didn’t want to alienate Eduardo’s family.

On the other hand, remembering the old woman’s cold attitude toward her, she knew that she wasn’t going to be able to tolerate insults without a challenge. Regardless of thecondessa’splace in Eduardo’s life, Bernadette wasn’t going to let the woman make her life hell. She’d had quite enough of being treated like a contagious disease by her own father.

A week later, her father came home from Eduardo’s house with a strange look on his face. He called Bernadette into his study and offered her a seat at his desk. He looked truly concerned.

“I want to know,” he began hesitantly, “if you still want to go through with the marriage.”

She lifted both eyebrows. “Why?”

“Because I’ve just met that little black scorpion from Spain,” he said through his teeth. His face reddened with temper. “And I think you’re going to have a hell of a time living with her, even for the summer.”

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