Golden Roses (5 page)

Dolita still remained skeptical. She clucked about, doing what needed doing, warning her mistress that she was playing with fire. Amber continued to fish for information. The most important thing she heard was that Valdis valued other people’s opinions. He was all too aware of the gossip about his not being a matador like his famous father. Listening to Dolita, sifting through everything she said, Amber felt that Valdis had tried to counter the negative opinions by giving the appearance of being cultivated and refined. He gave lavish balls and dinner parties, bringing the best musicians in all of Mexico to the ranch. Wine and champagne were imported all the way from France, and he hired the best cooks to travel from Mexico City to prepare sumptuous feasts. He was apparently attempting to buy acceptance into Mexican society.

As it happened, Valdis did not come to Amber’s room. But he sent word that Amber was expected to attend dinner that evening.

When Amber turned the doorknob at exactly seven thirty that evening, she found it unlocked. Stepping into the hall, she saw that there were also no guards. Perhaps Valdis had meant only to keep her confined for two weeks. Did he think that was enough to make her docile? He probably gave no serious consideration to her running away. After all, they were surrounded by many miles of forbidding country—all unfamiliar to Amber.

Descending the long staircase in a rose muslin gown, Amber thought it was the prettiest dress she owned. Her grandmother had crocheted tiny rows of lace around the bodice and embroidered blue rosebuds all over the billowing skirt. The gown gave her confidence.

Valdis was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, looking a little less formidable than she remembered him in an elegant red velvet coat. Thick rows of white lace fluffed about the lapels, framing a yellow silk cravat. His trousers were of a shiny black material. He wore fancy embroidered boots, which Amber thought gaudy.

He stood posed with one hand on the banister, his other tucked behind his back. As she stepped down, he bowed and reached for her hand, which she stiffly gave him. He pressed warm lips against her hand, and she fought the impulse to cringe.

“Ah, you are even lovelier than I remembered, little sister.” He grinned, straightening. “Your two weeks of rest have returned color to your cheeks. Come. I have been looking forward to our evening together. We shall become better acquainted. I am afraid our first encounter was marred by the sorrow that assaulted my home.”

Tucking her hand in the crook of his arm, he led her to the wide double doors at the rear of the foyer, then into the large, elegant dining room beyond. Amber’s gaze swept over the sparkling crystal chandeliers, lights dazzling from every prism. A large table, big enough to seat at least twenty, dominated the room. The furniture was of a heavy black wood and, like the other furnishings in the house, was ornately and delicately carved.

The walls were of brilliant mosaic tiles, and numerous potted plants gave the room a gardenlike appearance. A brightly feathered bird, imprisoned in a wrought iron cage, stood, bored, in a far corner.

Valdis led her to the chair to the right of the head of the table and pulled it out for her. Then he moved to his place at the head of the impressive table. She hated sitting so close to him.

He clapped his hands sharply, and a servant appeared at once with a bottle of red wine. As he poured, Amber noticed that theirs were the only two settings. “Where are Allegra and Maretta?” she asked.

“I had dinner sent to their rooms. My mother seldom comes downstairs, and Maretta is in one of her nasty moods. I thought it would be more pleasant if we were alone.”

Amber wondered sadly how often her poor father had been allowed to come downstairs. Only for formal occasions?

“Tell me,” Valdis said after several sips of wine, “do you find your room comfortable? If not, I would be glad to take you on a tour of my house and allow you to select something more to your liking. There are many rooms.”

“No,” Amber said quickly. “The room is fine, thank you.

“Besides,” she added, hoping her tone was nonchalant, “I do not want to impose on your kind hospitality any longer than necessary, Valdis. I am not really a member of your family. You owe me nothing.”

“Ah, quite the contrary.” He smiled broadly, propping his chin on folded hands and gazing at her warmly. “I want your delicate charm, your exquisite beauty to grace my home for a long, long time. Perhaps by so doing, you can repay your father’s debt to me.”

Amber stared. “I don’t understand. My father was in your debt?”

He waved a hand airily and reached for his glass again. “He had no skill of any value on my ranch. He was useless to me. An artist, he called himself.” Valdis snorted derisively, then smiled. “But let us not talk of unpleasant things. I wish to discuss with you the lavish wardrobe I am going to have made for you. The seamstress will be coming to take your measurements. How I envy her,” he added with a bold wink.

“No! I cannot allow that. I have enough clothes.” Amber shook her head firmly. Oh, she didn’t want to get him riled. She wanted to gain his confidence, give her time to get the stolen money back. But how long could she allow him to speak that way of her father?

“Your wardrobe is not suitable for life here,” he was saying. “I like to entertain, and since word of your beauty has already spread far and wide, I wish to have a big fiesta in your honor very, very soon. You will need a stunning gown for that, and I think red velvet will be lovely with your silver hair.”

Amber forced herself to silence. Let him make his plans. She would make her own.

After a moment she asked innocently, “Would you tell me about my father? His life here?”

Valdis looked annoyed as he reached for the wine bottle. “There is nothing to tell,” he said curtly. “The marriage would never have taken place had I not been in Spain at the time. He came riding through, a wanderer, and my mother fell prey to his charms. He thought this was her ranch, and he thought she was very rich. My devious mother allowed him to think these things. When I returned, they were already married. Maretta had tried to stop them, but there was nothing she could do.”

Amber forgot her resolve and snapped, “My father was not a fortune hunter, Valdis. He left America after my mother died because he was so grief-stricken. He surely loved your stepmother, because he would not have married for money. But there is something I don’t understand about any of this. Just why is it that you control everything? Every time you mention this house, it is always
your
house. You have no respect for your stepmother, and she’s treated like a…a prisoner. How do you justify this?”

His eyes were blazing, but Amber did not wither before his gaze.

“I cannot see how any of this is your business,” he said tightly, “but since you are a part of this family—whether you like it or not—I will tell you that my mother was smart enough to know she was not smart enough to run the ranch when my father was killed. She did the wise thing when she deeded everything to me. Obviously, she did not tell this to your father.”

He clapped his hands, and several servants appeared with bowls and platters of food.

When they were once more alone, Amber said sharply, “I resent the insinuations you make about my father, Valdis. He would never have married Allegra for her money. And if she did not tell him she had deeded the ranch to you, that was probably because she was afraid to admit she had made a mistake.”

“Mistake?” He raised a brow. “I find your unexpected spirit a pleasant surprise, little one, but do not press me too hard. I take nothing from men and very little from women, as you will learn quite soon if you do not mind your tongue.”

Amber wanted to shout that she knew that included beating his stepmother, but if she did, he would know that Dolita had told her. She contented herself with, “I am not afraid of you, Valdis, so do not threaten me.

“I think I would prefer to eat in my room.” She started to rise from her chair, but his hand snaked out to clutch her wrist painfully, and he applied pressure until she was forced to collapse in her chair. He released her, leaning forward to whisper harshly, “You try my patience, Amber. Sit here and eat your dinner. Later we will go for a walk in the gardens.”

Choking on the angry words aching to be screamed, she forced herself to eat. Oh, how she wanted to leave! Just as soon as she had the money, she would. If she could not find what he had stolen from her, then she would steal from him, by God.

During the rest of the meal, Valdis talked. He talked about himself, expounding on the wonderful job he had done with the ranch. His bulls were the finest stock in all of Mexico. Amber would, he said, be very happy there. He would groom her to be the lady of the house. His mother, he declared, was senile. He hoped Maretta would marry soon and move away. He expressed his desire to entertain elaborately and was confident that Amber, with her charm and beauty, would make him the most envied man in the valley.

“It will be advantageous for both of us.” He lifted his glass, while Amber sat quietly, making no move to join in the toast. “And who knows?” He leaned closer, smiling broadly. “We may become good friends, much closer than merely brother and sister.” Then he laughed to himself, as though harboring a deep, delightful secret.

Midway through the meal, Valdis ordered a large pitcher of sangria. Amber stared at the dark red wine and the slices of oranges and lemons and limes in the bottom of the pitcher. She thought how refreshing it looked, but she declined a glass. She would not drink with him. He was consuming enough for both of them, anyway.

When they had finished eating, Valdis stood and pulled Amber’s chair back so that she could rise. She allowed him to lead her through glass-paned double doors onto a wide terrace. They were at the rear of the house.

“Beautiful, no?” Valdis said, waving his arms with a flourish.

Amber murmured in agreement, wanting not to compliment him, but thinking that it was truly lovely. A warm breeze was blowing through the dancing fronds of a nearby weeping willow, and the air was scented with jasmine. A lonely bird sang his lament of longing. Closing her eyes, Amber felt the familiar stirrings, the strange sensations that had caused her such bewilderment in recent years. Alone in her bed at night in her grandmother’s house, she had felt this same encompassing loneliness mingling with a sweetly painful hunger. After a while, the dreams would begin…dreams of a handsome stranger who folded her into his arms, his lips claiming hers in a searing kiss. His hands would dance over her body, caressing her breasts, and then a strange liquid fire would fill her body, spilling forth, and she would awaken startled and frightened. But for a while the hunger abated. Someday, that intriguing stranger would appear, and she would know him, for she had spent too many nights in his embrace not to know him well.

But the man of her dreams was not Valdis. Never Valdis. Revulsion caused her to step back.

“It is lovely, no?” Valdis placed his arm about her waist. Giving her a little shake, he laughed softly. “Relax, Amber. You say you are not afraid of me, and it is not my wish that you be. I want only for you to understand that I wish to be your friend. I want you to be happy here. This is your home now.”

Amber wanted to laugh. Did he think her a complete fool? She would not be taken in by Valdis’s hypocritical charm, which he would call up at will. But for the moment, she would pretend to be entranced. Let him think her a fool. When the time was right, he would learn differently.

Valdis led her to the edge of the terrace. The mountain range was visible, stretching to the sky, and the liquid moonlight seemed to coat the peaks in snow.

“Do you see all of that?” Valdis said proudly. “It is mine. I own all that the eye can see…” Suddenly his voice became bitter, and he finished harshly, “Except on the eastern side.”

Amber impishly prodded, “Why don’t you own that land as well?”

He took a long, deep breath, then let it out slowly. “The pompous fool who owns that land will not sell to me. I have offered him far more than it is worth, but he is stubborn. One day he will come to me on his knees, begging me to take it off his hands.”

“Why won’t he sell?” Amber pushed.

“Because he is a fool!” Valdis cried. “He does not even need to use that land to raise bulls and horses, for he makes enough money as a matador.”

Amber was intrigued. “A matador? How fascinating. I have never been to a bullfight. I’m sure they’re cruel, so I don’t really want to go—but I can’t help admiring men brave enough to be matadors.” As she saw him stiffen with rage, she suppressed her smile.

“You will go to the bullfights next week,” he said firmly. “As a member of the house of Alezparito, it is expected of you. I myself think a man is a fool to risk his life that way. Armand Mendosa is a foolish man. But even if he does not sell his land to me, then I will probably have the use of it and the deep springs it contains when he marries Maretta.”

Amber cried, “So that is the man she loves…the one who doesn’t want to marry her.”

“
Sí
, and I would kill him with my bare hands if it were not for the fact that their union will give me water rights. There have been no problems in the past. His family and my father’s were very close. But one never knows if the cooperation will continue. Armand might build dams, or sell the property to someone who would build them; then I would have difficulty getting enough water for my stock.”