“I promise you, I’ll think about it,” she said, trying to suppress her delight.
He nodded. He smiled at her. “It might not be so bad,” he mused. “I have a way with women, and you need someone to make you take care of yourself, as well as independence from your father. It could be a good marriage.”
“I’d still be a bargain bride,” she pointed out, despite her embarrassment at his bluntness.
“With a Spanish master,” he murmured, and grinned. “But I promise to be patient.”
She colored again. “You wicked man!”
“One day,” he told her after he’d mounted his own horse, laughing softly, “you may be glad of that. Adiós, Bernadette!”
CHAPTER FOUR
BERNADETTE WAS OVER THE MOON about Eduardo’s incredible proposition, but now she had to find a way to implement it. Her father wasn’t even considering Eduardo anymore.
He still wanted a European nobleman for Bernadette, and he wasn’t going to quit until he had one. She gave up worrying about it and concentrated on finding ways and means to marry herself to the man she loved—although he’d admitted that he didn’t love her. Surely she loved him enough for both of them.
Meanwhile, her father’s two candidates had arrived, bag and baggage, along with several members of prominent families who were staying with the Barrons until the ball. The Culhanes had backed out at the last minute, apologetic about having some problems close to home that had to be addressed. They sent their regrets, but everyone else showed up.
Bernadette was already having problems with the German nobleman. Klaus Branner liked the looks of Bernadette and he became her shadow. He was in his late forties, blond and paunchy and shorter than she. The Italian was volatile and found Bernadette not at all to his liking, so he spent most of his time with her father, talking about guns and hunting.
Bernadette resented having to fight off the advances of the German, but her father made it clear that he wasn’t going to intervene.
“Eduardo doesn’t want you, he’s made that perfectly clear by his absence,” her father said doggedly when she complained about the amorous duke. He made a helpless gesture with his hand and wouldn’t look at her plaintive expression. “You’ll get...used to it,” he said stiffly, and went to rejoin his Italian friend.
But Bernadette didn’t get used to it. And it got worse. One day, the day before the ball, in fact, the German duke maneuvered Bernadette behind the Chinese screen in the living room and put his pudgy hands on her breasts.
She kicked him in the shin hard enough to make him cry out, and then she ran for the safety of her locked bedroom, weeping copiously with rage and the horrible revulsion she felt.
No longer could she bear the disgusting advances of her prospective bridegroom. If her own father wouldn’t defend her, there was nothing left to do except run away.
She dressed in her riding habit and boots, drew a blanket from the dresser and went out the window of her room. Casting a watchful eye around, in case her pursuer was anywhere nearby, she eased into the kitchen where Maria was working on the noon meal.
“Niña!” Maria exclaimed when she confronted her mistress dressed for the trail and carrying a colorful serape. “What are you up to?”
“Pack me something to eat, and very quickly, please. I’m running away,” she said firmly.
Maria’s black eyebrows lifted. “But you cannot! Not alone! Please, speak to your father!”
“I did speak to him,” she said through trembling lips. “He said I’d get used to having that repulsive Branner man fondle me! I won’t, I tell you! He’s put his pudgy hands on me for the last time! I’m leaving!”
“But it is so dangerous!”
“Staying here is more dangerous,” Bernadette said. “I will not be harassed and treated like a woman of the streets by that horrible man while my father stands by and does nothing! If I don’t go, I’ll shoot him! Please pack me something to eat, and hurry, Maria, before they catch me!”
Maria mumbled worriedly in Spanish, but she did as she was asked, wrapping a piece of cold chicken and a hunk of bread, all that was left from the last meal, in a cloth and stuffing them into a saddlebag, along with a jar of canned peaches. “So little. You will starve long before night falls.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be much safer among the snakes and cactus than I will here with that German octopus!” Bernadette hugged Maria affectionately and cautiously crossed to the stable. She made the confused stable boy saddle her horse, looking around warily for anyone who might want to stop her.
Once she was in the saddle, she headed quickly for the nearby mountains, where she could hide in safety. She had no gun, but hopefully she wouldn’t need one. If she could hide out for two or three days, just long enough to frighten her father, she might get her point across. Public opinion would not be favorable to a man who sent his unhappy daughter running into the wilds of Texas to escape an unwanted suitor!
She rode until the skies began to go purple and red in late afternoon, then she stopped her mount by a small stream under some trees and unsaddled her horse, careful to tether him so that he wouldn’t wander during the night.
She did know how to build a campfire, and it was a necessary skill here in the desert country where nights could be freezing. She used her saddle for a pillow and the saddle blanket for a bed, with her colorful serape for cover. It was going to be a very uncomfortable night, but she could bear it. Anything was preferable to having that repulsive man pawing her!
But if it was easy to contemplate a night in the desert, it was harder to endure it. She knew that bandits often raided isolated camps. She had no money, but she was easily recognizable to people in the area as the daughter of its most wealthy local citizen. She could be kidnapped and held for ransom—or worse. She shivered at the thought of dirty, greedy hands on her body.
She sat looking into the flames, shivering and wondering where her mind had been for her to consider such a reckless plan of action. She jumped at every noise she heard. It was the first time she’d ever been completely alone in her life, and it was unnerving as she sat and thought of all the things that could happen to her because of her folly. The very worst was considering what might happen to her if she had an attack out here, in the middle of nowhere. She had nothing to stop one, not even coffee.
She thought of Eduardo and what he’d said to her, about the two of them conspiring to arrange their own marriage. It was the best chance she had to escape her father’s plans for her. But it frightened her a little to think of Eduardo intimately. He would need a son. It seemed to be almost a mania with men. What if she could never steel herself to sleep with him? Would he still be willing to marry her with that threat hanging over them?
* * *
WHILE SHE WAS SITTING ALONE IN the desert by her campfire, freezing under the light blanket and deliberating about her misery, something quite different was going on back at the ranch.
Eduardo had arrived, intending to see Colston Barron and put the proposition of marrying Bernadette to him one more time. If the man refused, he could simply elope with his intended bride. Possession was, after all, nine-tenths of the law, and Bernadette was willing.
The ranch owner was in his study with a slight, dark man and a heavyset older one, and they were examining a fowling piece when Eduardo was shown in by Maria.
“Well, Eduardo!” Colston said, nonplussed. “I wasn’t expecting you. You haven’t been to see us in such a long time that I thought you’d put us right out of your life, lad!”
Eduardo glanced at the small, younger man and then at the German with barely concealed contempt. Having had a brief conversation with Maria already,