Silver Surrender--Jarrett Family Sagas--Book Two by Vivian Vaughan

Author:Vivian Vaughan
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781626818545
Publisher: Diversion Books
Published: 1915-06-08T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Santos, Aurelia, and Aurelia’s maid, María, arrived in Guanajuato on the opening day of the feria, having left Pepe in charge of the herd of brave black bulls at the Plaza de Toros, the bullring. They were eager to arrive at the home of their relatives by early afternoon.

Even though more than ten days had passed since they left Catorce, Aurelia could still think of little besides her last meeting with Carson the evening before their departure.

Oh, he had been present to wish them a safe trip the morning they left, but there had been no chance to exchange more than a few desperate looks and for her to issue a second warning for him to be careful of Nuncio Quiroz.

For a while the evening before, she had despaired of stealing a single moment alone with him. In the end, that was about all she was allowed. After Santos left to escort Pia and Zita to their homes, Don Domingo remained in the drawing room with Carson, discussing mine activities. He insisted that Aurelia retire, and finally she had done so.

At that point she had not given up hope of seeing Carson later, but no sooner had her father prepared to retire than Santos returned. The two friends sat in the patio well into the night, drinking cerveza and strumming guitars.

Aurelia huddled in an alcove on the second-floor landing, scrunching behind a marble pillar where she would be out of sight of passersby. Surely Carson knew she would attempt to see him.

Surely he wanted to kiss her good night.

She discovered the answer to the last concern when Santos excused himself to fetch more cerveza. Since they had already been drinking an hour or so, Aurelia decided her brother might take the opportunity to do more than bring more beer, so she tiptoed down the stairs and called to Carson from a darkened corner beneath the massive staircase.

He crossed the floor, reaching her in two paces. Taking her in his arms, he settled into the shadows and kissed her with eager lips. His arms tightened around her, molded her to him, weakening her with the want of him.

Clad only in a flowing white cotton nightgown and matching wrapper, her body fairly cried for his. At the feel of her near-nude body, he groaned.

She snuggled closer. “I’m sorry for calling you a coward at dinner.”

He chuckled against her. “You hit the nail on the head. I’m plumb scared to death of what we’re getting ourselves into.”

“I am, too,” she admitted. “But I’m more afraid of being away from you.”

He kissed her in acknowledgment, delving deeply into her sweetness, exciting her and himself to limits he knew were futile here in the patio. He drew back.

“Will you truly come to Guanajuato?” she whispered.

He kissed her face, one cheek then the other, one eye then the other, nestling his lips among the scattered strands of hair across her forehead. “After I discover what’s going on at the mine—what game Nuncio Quiroz is playing and who else has a hand in it.

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