Intimate Strangers Affair Page 25

  “Miguel! You are serious. What’s your big fat rush? Can’t the ceremony wait?”

  “The ceremony can wait, but not the honeymoon, querida. Not the honeymoon,” he said huskily, staring at my lips. His fingers traced my neck, then stopped at my collar. He played with the pearl buttons there. “In fact…”

  “No.” I slapped away his hand. “Stop that. That’s just the medication talking. When the chloroform wears off, you’ll sing a different tune. Just wait, mister. You’ll see.”

  His brow arched. “You promise?”

  “I didn’t mean that. You can’t.”

  “Can’t I?” He took my hand and slipped it under the covers. He showed me what he meant. Just in case I had misunderstood, he pressed me closer. My eyes widened. Rumor had it that women under the influence became lewd during labor. Even Queen Victoria had. Maybe it was true for men too. Or maybe it was just Miguel.

  “I told you, doctora. You are very, very good medicine.”

  I managed to jerk my hand away and shook my head. “And you are still very, very bad. What am I going to do with you?”

  “Well…”

  “No, I mean it. What if the padre finds us? Or my aunt? Or Claude?” Even as I said this, I could hear my voice trembling. My will weakened. I was pitiful. It was as though he already knew, because his eyes darkened.

  “For goodness sake! Can’t you think of something else for a change?” I was half out of my chair, half over him. I held his hands apart and away from me.

  With a little sigh, he settled back into his pillow. A lock of hair had fallen over his forehead. He tossed his head back. “As you wish.”

  I looked cautiously at him. He seemed to acquiesce, but I had my doubts. He may look quiet, but there was nothing mild about him. There was always that faint sense of menace. He was like a stalking predator: watching and waiting for just the right moment. My body hummed with awareness. Careful, girl. I let go of Miguel, and sat down hastily on the chair. The legs scraped across the floor.

  His smile turned smug. He knew. “Tell me. How do you like this infirmary?”

  What? How could he sound so cool? I was dying inside. Well, I could try to brazen it out. My mind kept wandering back to the rumored side effects of chloroform and his state of recovery while I pretended to think about his question. I cleared my throat, then rubbed my sweaty hands against my skirt before I folded them in my lap. “Oh, I like the clinic. Better than James’s old place. More room, better location. Yeah, this is nice. Pretty cushy.”

  I glanced around us. Even the pine plank floor was covered with a thick Turkish rug. And sunlight streamed through the lacy curtains that hung from the tall arched windows. Through the panes, I could see a courtyard garden with a fountain. That would be nice for patients to stroll around, maybe rest a little.

  “I like the rooms. Everything seems nice and airy and clean. And you can tell the equipment’s new. Everything seems new. It’s exciting with all those crates in the foyer still unpacked. But lucky for us the suite was all set up and ready to go. Good thing Xiang knew about it. Sure came in handy for your surgery. So whose joint is this anyway? A friend of yours?”

  “Not exactly,” Miguel said patiently.

  “Oh, a business acquaintance. Are you a silent investor?”

  “In a way.”

  I frowned. I hated it when he acted like this. “Well? Whose is it?”

  He smiled faintly. “Yours, niña.”

  My mouth opened and closed without saying anything. Was he kidding? Half the time, I never even knew when he was joking. He sure had a strange sense of humor. “Get out of here.”

  “I cannot. My doctora has ordered strict bed rest. I always listen to her. To the very letter.” His eyes flashed with surprising wickedness.

  “You most certainly do not. You never…oh, never mind. What can you possibly mean by this?”

  “Just what I said. Perhaps if you don’t like it I should offer diamonds?”

  “What on earth for? I’d only lose them.” I stared down at my hands, feeling completely overwhelmed. No one had ever given me something like this before, and no one had ever understood me so completely. Nothing could please me more. This infirmary mine? I would need help. And I knew who. Maybe I could talk James into returning from his premature retirement. And my friends who were still looking for jobs…why, I could telegraph them with an offer. So many things made possible all at once. What bounty! I was so happy and overwhelmed that I felt like crying. “What can I say, Miguel? What can I possibly say?”

  “You say, muchas gracias, mi amor. And then you show me how very much you appreciate me.”

  And so I did. The only way I knew how.

  ***

  Miguel sure had a sense of timing. Exquisite timing. I was grateful and amazed.

  I probably would have felt even more amazed if I’d been in the right state of mind, but I wasn’t. All that show of “appreciation” turned time into one languorous golden moment. My body felt liquid, my mind completely absent. Now this kind of amnesia I could get used to. Real fast. Maybe surrendering wasn’t so bad after all. There were definite benefits.

  I’m not sure what exactly happened afterwards, but somehow we came home with just ten minutes to spare. As soon as we arrived, Xiang disappeared with Miguel, and Lin-Mei shepherded me through the casa as if I were a wayward lamb. I was ushered into a small room next to our bedroom. The draperies were faded as if they hadn’t been pulled in years, but everything else smelled like fresh lemon soap and polish. The rug had a large darker square and four dents where a bed had once been. In its place was a chaise lounge with new cushions.

  “Dressing room. This yours, the Don said. Hurry, hurry.” Lin-Mei poured warm water into a basin. “Undress. Wash up. Padre here in five minutes.”

  I started on the top button of my blouse, but I must have been too slow because Lin-Mei quickly unfastened the rest of my buttons, then the side of my split-skirt. Clucking her tongue, she handed me a sponge.

  “I have another suit. Could you get that one out?”

  “The black one? No, Missy…”

  “Absolutely not!” Catherine declared. She sailed into the room, majestic as the queen mother of all ships.

  Alicia followed closely behind, stuck to my aunt’s skirts like her little personal tugboat. The colossal feather in Catherine’s hat jutted out like a prow. She turned and I jumped back. Saved my eye just in the nick of time. Claude hadn’t been kidding about the risk of bodily injury. She carried something hung and bundled. It looked suspiciously lacy and feminine. God, help me. Catherine unwrapped her prize carefully.

  “Don’t be ridiculous, baby doll. You’ll look like one of those damned temperance ladies. No one wears black to her own wedding. No time for arguments.”

  “Uh, that’s all right. You don’t have to bother.”

  “No bother. My pleasure,” my aunt said with hearty cheerfulness. She flung off the last piece of tissue. “It’s not every day that you get married. It may be fast, but that’s okay by me. A catch is a catch. Can’t let that Don Miguel slip off your hook, if you know what I mean. My, you are a sly one, Nathalie Arnaud. You just grab him and go.”

  “Catherine!” I nodded toward Alicia, who unfortunately was as attentive as always.

  My aunt just threw back her head and laughed. “That’s all right, never too young for a girl to learn the real lessons in life. Right, Alicia-pie?”

  “Oh, yes. Lessons. Like sums and minuses. One take away one is zero. Zero like my mama. She’s gone, but you’re here now, Nathalie. This was her room, and now it’s yours. So we’re not zero anymore. Not me and Papa. Two plus one is…” she counted on her fingers and beamed up at me. “Three. We’ll be three now and this room won’t be empty anymore.”

  The look on her hopeful face made my heart constrict. It was more than simple math. It was multiplication, I supposed. “Yes,” I finally answered. “We’ll be a family.” I finished drying myself off and tossed the towel on the bureau
.

  “Two minutes,” Lin-Mei intoned.

  Catherine smiled. “Arms up.”

  I obeyed. Yards of ivory silk rustled over me, flounce after flounce. I was drowning in it. The lavender-scented lace tickled my nose. I sneezed. “What is this?” I said as soon as my head cleared the neckline. Catherine settled it across my shoulders while Lin-Mei fastened up the back.

  “My dress,” Catherine mumbled, pins in her mouth. “The one I’ve been saving for me and James. Only at this rate, it looks like I’ll be buried in it first. Never worn it. Brand new. Better you use it, baby doll. It suits you fine except…”

  “For this.” Horrified, I clutched the bodice. “You can see all the way to my…”

  “Here, this lace help.” Lin-Mei draped it around my shoulders so that it covered my naked chest. She tucked the edges into the plunging neckline and fixed it with a sapphire and pearl brooch. “That Dona Ana’s. His mother.”

  “Aw, ain’t that sweet? He thinks of everything. Now that’s pretty. Really pretty.” Catherine fastened on the matching pearl drop earrings. Lin-Mei dressed my hair while my aunt pinched my cheeks.

  “Good and rosy. Now take a look, baby doll. Just take a look.” We stepped in front of the mirror, standing next to each other so that our reflections were side by side. Catherine under that colossal hat, and me with my hair all piled high, held back by a pearl encrusted silver fillet. That couldn’t be me. My mouth dropped open.

  “I look…”

  “Beautiful,” Alicia breathed, wiggling next to me on the other side. “Like a princess fairy bride.”

  No, like a counterfeit bride. Fake as Claude’s two-headed quarter. Maybe I looked the part, but that was about it. If you scratched my surface and looked past the silk and jewelry, you’d see the real Nathalie. The mess in the muddy sensible boots. No matter how you dressed me up, I’d still be a wharf brat somewhere inside. It didn’t fool me. Not for a red minute. But I certainly seemed to be fooling everyone else. Lin-Mei nodded, pleased. And Catherine? Good Lord! She was sniffing into her hankie like she had the mother of all colds, muttering to herself about something old and something new. My aunt blew her nose loud and long, then gave it a good wipe.

  “You sure do look a picture. If only your mother could see you now.” Catherine gave one last hearty blow, then straightening her shoulders and stuffed the hankie into her bodice. “Well, that’s enough of that. We better get a move on. Here, Alicia. You take these posies since you’re the flower girl and all. Come on, Nathalie. Stop dawdling. You know what I always say. It’s all right to make a gentleman wait, as long as you make it worth his while. Let’s go, baby doll. Let’s go knock his socks off.”

  ***

  Later that evening, we stood in the grand salon. The candelabras were lit, filling the room with their soft golden glow. Everything smelled like beeswax and the last of the fall roses. Ricardo and Alicia stood on one side. On the other side, a natty-looking James supported Catherine, who just sniffled her fool head off. Claude, for once, was completely quiet, but that just probably meant he was cooking up something in his little head. Every now and then, he would glance around the room as if he were expecting something. Naturally, this worried me. I didn’t want my wedding busted up by his creditors. Now that would be dandy.

  And as for the groom… Well, Miguel looked so incredibly handsome, all strong and straight in his black silk evening suit.

  “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. You should be sitting down,” I whispered.

  “I’m fine.” he said softly. “You make me the happiest man alive, mi amor.”

  When Ricardo dropped the ring, Miguel calmly bent over and picked it up in one easy lithe move. Then repeating the vow, he slipped an old gold ring on to my finger. His hand squeezed mine as if he were reassuring me.

  I didn’t want his reassurances. I wanted his obedience. After all, wasn’t there something about love, honor and obeying in this ceremony? Wasn’t that what all these words were about? Becoming partners, listening, working together? So far, it wasn’t working. Why wouldn’t he listen to me and take care of himself for a change? “Miguel…”

  “No,” he repeated in a firm undertone. “I will not sit down for this. This is too important. Don’t worry, I have strength left, querida.”

  “That’s not what I’m thinking about.”

  Miguel’s brow arched. “No? I am disappointed. What else should you be thinking? Perhaps you have forgotten. Perhaps I should remind you.”

  Behind us, James chuckled. In front of us, the padre faltered, glancing up from his bible at us. He coughed politely behind his hand. “Should I…hmmm?”

  “Wait a moment,” I said, placing my hand on Miguel’s chest. “You’re going to—”

  “Finish this. Continue, Father,” Miguel said in his Don voice, the one that brooked no disagreement.

  I opened my mouth. Miguel gripped my hand even tighter until the ring bit into my fingers. I closed my mouth, frowning at him. The priest spoke on, picking up steam as he neared the end. Perhaps he was worried that he wouldn’t get a chance to complete the ceremony. He sounded a little breathless, barely pausing between words so that it all sounded like one long run-on sentence. He was really rolling now, going on and on about the holy this, that, and the other thing.

  “And those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder…”

  Such serious words. Almost done. And soon, my life would never be the same. From the moment we’d seen each other again on the ship, I had known that it had changed. I felt a chill run across my back, the candles flickering in the background.

  “You may kiss the…”

  Miguel needed no prompting. He quickly followed the last instruction. His hands seized my shoulders. This simple touch stormed a wanting that swept through me, blowing away my frustration, blowing everything else away. He bent me back like a willow in the wind. My hands slid up his arms, then around him, and the rest of the room seemed to fade away. All I could see were his bright green eyes, burning with triumph.

  “Mine,” his mouth said against me.

  As you are mine, I answered silently, folding deeper into his arms, returning his kiss with my own. Dimly, I heard someone cheering, clapping, my aunt blowing her nose again.

  Over the sounds of celebration came muffled shouts from the doorway. Feet scuffled against the floor as if someone was being dragged across it.

  My brother was saying something with that cool menacing edge he used when a deal had gone sour and it was time to pull out the big guns. “Excuse me. Invited guests only. Somehow, I doubt you were invited. You’re not friends of the groom, and you’re definitely not friends of the bride. I’ll just see you out.”

  Miguel broke away. He looked past me and toward the disturbance. “Stop.”

  He was standing up now, one steadying arm around my shoulders. My mouth felt bereft without his. Foggily, I glanced up, my vision gradually refocusing. Claude had Hollinger by the scruff of his scrawny uniformed neck, while Xiang detained the major.

  Moore glanced disdainfully at Xiang’s imprisoning fingers. “Do you mind? You’re wrinkling my suit.”

  Xiang said nothing, but didn’t let go until Miguel signaled him.

  “They can do no harm.”

  “So certain, are you?” Major Moore straightened his collar, then smoothed down his suit.

  Miguel only nodded once. Then, as if Moore wasn’t worth wasting another moment’s consideration, he turned to Alicia, who flung her arms around his knees. With a quiet smile, Miguel leaned down and returned her hug. That was perfect. Just perfect. Maybe time could mend the awkwardness between them. It seemed like they were already on the way. I couldn’t ask for a better wedding present. Smiling, I accepted James’s kiss and Catherine’s weepy congratulations, while Lin-Mei walked around the room with a tray of drinks: strong spirits for the adults, juice for the children. She made a point of offering refreshments to the intruders last of all. Moore accepted the drink and the ac
companying glare. He must be used to that kind of treatment. It didn’t seem to ruffle him at all. And his expression didn’t change when Miguel walked up to him. Neither man said anything as they went to a quieter corner of the room. I wanted to follow, but I couldn’t without ditching Ricardo and being too obvious.

  I perked my ears, trying to listen to the conversation across the room. I couldn’t hear a thing between Claude’s singing and Ricardo talking about God knows what. He was showing me something from the family altar, which was newly decorated for Dia de los Muertos, the day of the dead. He plumped the yellow and orange marigolds, rearranged the clay skeleton figurines, pointing out little details here and there. I admit it. I wasn’t really paying attention to his chatter because I was concentrating on Moore and Miguel. Why hadn’t I ever learned how to read lips? Now that would have been useful. What did Miguel just say? Ship? Or stop?

  Next thing I knew, Ricardo planted a puckered kiss on my cheek. It was soft and damp like a dab from a wet sponge. A child’s kiss, affectionate and innocent. Was this the man who’d called Margaret his querida? I began to doubt myself, but there couldn’t be two Miguels. Could there? I know what I saw. And the man I’d just married couldn’t have been the man in the arms of Margaret LaRue Calhoun.

  “Thank you,” I said automatically as if Ricardo had just congratulated me. I really wasn’t sure what he’d just said, but it seemed like a safe enough reply. “Thank you, very much.”

  “See. See. You’re just like all the others.”

  Something in Ricardo’s tone made me look, really look, at him for the first time this evening. He seemed a little off, not quite his usual jolly self. I took his soft plump hands. “What’s wrong, Ricardo?”

  His bottom lip stuck out. “You’re not listening. You’re not!” His eyes challenged me.

  Oops. Caught. Just because he was simple didn’t mean he was worth less attention. I’d been rude. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I ... I guess I’m a little distracted. Could you show me again? This is like Halloween, right? When the ghosts walk.”