Read Online Bandit's Embrace (The Durango Family) by Georgina Gentry - Free Book Online

leaned back against the cushions, trying to feel smug satisfaction, but somehow-it eluded her. Bandit didn’t seem to know that he rode the most famous stud in the states of Coahuila and Nuevo Leon. Or that Señor Falcon had offered a great reward for the return of the stolen horse—or the head of the man who had taken it!

Chapter Four
    Evening fell like soft layers of gray gauze across the abbey of the Cloistered Sisters as the stagecoach disgorged its two passengers out front.
    Amethyst stood in the jumble of her baggage, watching the sour chaperone pull the bell cord as they waited at the gate before the grim, forbidding walls. Behind her, the stage pulled away with a clatter and the jingle of harness.
    She had a sudden urge to run after the coach, shouting at it to wait. But she had no money, no destination in mind if she should get back on that stage. Besides the stout Mrs. Wentworth would only pull her off and scold her for her brashness.
    Damn that Texan anyhow! He could have helped her instead of just stealing her ring and her innocence! And certainly the supposed ecstasy of lovemaking had been vastly overrated as far as Amethyst was concerned.
    The sound of shuffling feet interrupted her thoughts. A bent old servant woman swung open the door.
    Mrs. Wentworth motioned Amethyst to enter. “Tell the Mother Superior that Señorita Durango has arrived and seeks audience.”
    The worn face wrinkled with scorn as the nun looked over the pile of baggage. “She’ll not be needing all that here, I can tell you, but I’ll send word you’ve arrived.”
     
     
    While her chaperone dealt with the luggage, Amethyst found herself seated in a sparse, small room across from the Mother Superior. Had the woman ever been young? It was hard to tell with her form so swathed in the black habit, and her face so plain and pale. She jangled the big ring of keys hanging from her waist. “So you are Amethyst Durango! Any relation to one Luis Durango?”
    Amethyst studied the lined face, the haunted eyes. The question puzzled her. “I—I don’t know. I think possibly he might be a brother to our distant cousin in the Texas hill country—Diego de Durango.”
    “Aha! I thought so!” There was a glint in the woman’s eyes as she rattled her ring of keys, a note of triumph in her voice. And was that a hint of revenge . . . or madness in her expression?
    Amethyst stared at the large portrait on the wall behind the Mother Superior. The girl in the painting was no older than Amethyst herself, very lovely and very innocent. She vaguely resembled the nun, although the artist had flattered his subject as paid artists do.
    The old woman nodded. “ Si, it is me, as I was many years ago in Spain . . . before I met Luis Durango, who painted that portrait.”
    She had a sudden feeling that the man had seduced and shamed the innocent girl portrayed in the painting. “Sister, I have no idea where this is all leading. Certainly I have never met this distant relative of whom you speak—”
    “Silence!” The Mother Superior’s voice cracked like a pistol shot as she stood, paced the bare stone floor. “You are as impudent and spirited as Mademoiselle Monique claimed in her letter! I took the veil because of Luis Durango; perhaps it is God’s justice that a Durango should finally come under my control!”
    That really was a glint of madness in the haunted eyes. Amethyst felt the hair rise on the back of her neck. “But, Sister—”
    “Silence, I said!” The older woman whirled on Amethyst. “I didn’t give you permission to speak! Here you will learn humility and obedience! That low-cut gown is disgraceful! It will only invite the lust of men. Tomorrow you will exchange it for a simple uniform.” She sniffed the air as if she could not believe her nose. “Is that perfume I smell?”
    “Forget-me-not,” Amethyst explained. “Surely there’s nothing wrong with the delicate scent of the little wild violet—”
    “It attracts the