Read Online Tears of Gold by Laurie McBain - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Laurie McBain
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water of life, or nothing for any decent Irishman.”
Mara shivered as a cool draught of air swept through the cabin and touched her shoulders. She took a deep swallow of wine and felt it lick like fire through her blood. It left her cheeks flushed as the chill left her body.
“It is fortunate that Amaya left California at so young an age. It will not be expected that she would speak Spanish,” Don Luís began, his black eyes narrowed to slits as he stared at Mara’s flushed face, “and a young girl changes much in the years approaching womanhood. Few will remember exactly what the young Amaya looked like. In fact, I did not recognize Amaya when I saw her in England. And oddly enough, you look more like the Amaya I had expected to see. It will work out fine, and as you are an accomplished actress,” he added, his tone sounding insultingly superior to Mara’s sensitive ear, “I need have no fears regarding your ability to play the role.”
“Then they’ll not be expecting me to remember them?” Mara inquired politely, masking her dislike of the man.
“No, it would not be likely that you would know all your relatives after this great length of time. However, you should be aware of the immediate family. I am, of course, your mother’s brother, Don Luís Cristobal Quintero,” he spoke his name proudly, “and my home is the Casa de Quintero. My wife is Doña Jacinta, and I have a son, Raoul. We will be staying at the Villareale rancho with you. That is the home of Don Andres Villareale; his mother, Doña Ysidora; and a cousin, Doña Feliciana. There are numerous other relatives constantly visiting, but they are unimportant.” Don Luís explained all this with patience, despite Brendan’s obvious inattention as he poured himself another whiskey.
“Oh—there is also staying at the rancho an American called Jeremiah Davies. He is Don Andres’s secretary.”
“Is it from the American that you learned your English, Don Luís?” Mara asked, having been surprised by the Spaniard’s almost flawless English.
“No, it was from the father of Señor Davies that we learned our English,” Don Luís explained. “He was a shipwrecked sailor off one of the fur-trading ships that used to sail our waters, and he decided to stay in California. He was not a sailor by trade, but had been a Yankee schoolteacher in a place called Boston. The father of Don Andres, Don Pedro, had the foresight to hire this Yankee to tutor his children and teach everyone English.” Don Luís smiled cynically as he added, “He must have foreseen this invasion by the gringos.”
“So the cast of characters have been named, and the players assembled on stage,” Brendan spoke suddenly into the uncomfortable silence. “And how long a run are we being booked for, Don Luís?”
Don Luís shrugged complacently. “Of that I am not certain. We will have to let these matters develop as they will. We Californians do not rush through life. We take our time, and consider things carefully. Don Andres and his family will, of course, want to take the time to get acquainted with you. Then there will be the festivities and visits to relatives,” Don Luís explained with a satisfied smile curving his thin lips. “All very time-consuming.”
“Time-consuming for what purpose?” Mara asked curiously, wondering what in the world she had committed herself to.
Don Luís stared arrogantly down his narrow, high-bridged nose at Mara. “That need not concern you, señora. All that involves you is to successfully act the part of my niece. You will be paid for that, and nothing more. Do I make myself understood?” Don Luís answered haughtily. “You will not meddle in affairs that are none of your business. You will confine yourself solely to acting your part.”
Mara shrugged, a devilish glint in her eyes that Brendan recognized and knew meant trouble. She’d like to see the pompous Don Luís cut down a size or two, and with that thought in mind she
Mara shivered as a cool draught of air swept through the cabin and touched her shoulders. She took a deep swallow of wine and felt it lick like fire through her blood. It left her cheeks flushed as the chill left her body.
“It is fortunate that Amaya left California at so young an age. It will not be expected that she would speak Spanish,” Don Luís began, his black eyes narrowed to slits as he stared at Mara’s flushed face, “and a young girl changes much in the years approaching womanhood. Few will remember exactly what the young Amaya looked like. In fact, I did not recognize Amaya when I saw her in England. And oddly enough, you look more like the Amaya I had expected to see. It will work out fine, and as you are an accomplished actress,” he added, his tone sounding insultingly superior to Mara’s sensitive ear, “I need have no fears regarding your ability to play the role.”
“Then they’ll not be expecting me to remember them?” Mara inquired politely, masking her dislike of the man.
“No, it would not be likely that you would know all your relatives after this great length of time. However, you should be aware of the immediate family. I am, of course, your mother’s brother, Don Luís Cristobal Quintero,” he spoke his name proudly, “and my home is the Casa de Quintero. My wife is Doña Jacinta, and I have a son, Raoul. We will be staying at the Villareale rancho with you. That is the home of Don Andres Villareale; his mother, Doña Ysidora; and a cousin, Doña Feliciana. There are numerous other relatives constantly visiting, but they are unimportant.” Don Luís explained all this with patience, despite Brendan’s obvious inattention as he poured himself another whiskey.
“Oh—there is also staying at the rancho an American called Jeremiah Davies. He is Don Andres’s secretary.”
“Is it from the American that you learned your English, Don Luís?” Mara asked, having been surprised by the Spaniard’s almost flawless English.
“No, it was from the father of Señor Davies that we learned our English,” Don Luís explained. “He was a shipwrecked sailor off one of the fur-trading ships that used to sail our waters, and he decided to stay in California. He was not a sailor by trade, but had been a Yankee schoolteacher in a place called Boston. The father of Don Andres, Don Pedro, had the foresight to hire this Yankee to tutor his children and teach everyone English.” Don Luís smiled cynically as he added, “He must have foreseen this invasion by the gringos.”
“So the cast of characters have been named, and the players assembled on stage,” Brendan spoke suddenly into the uncomfortable silence. “And how long a run are we being booked for, Don Luís?”
Don Luís shrugged complacently. “Of that I am not certain. We will have to let these matters develop as they will. We Californians do not rush through life. We take our time, and consider things carefully. Don Andres and his family will, of course, want to take the time to get acquainted with you. Then there will be the festivities and visits to relatives,” Don Luís explained with a satisfied smile curving his thin lips. “All very time-consuming.”
“Time-consuming for what purpose?” Mara asked curiously, wondering what in the world she had committed herself to.
Don Luís stared arrogantly down his narrow, high-bridged nose at Mara. “That need not concern you, señora. All that involves you is to successfully act the part of my niece. You will be paid for that, and nothing more. Do I make myself understood?” Don Luís answered haughtily. “You will not meddle in affairs that are none of your business. You will confine yourself solely to acting your part.”
Mara shrugged, a devilish glint in her eyes that Brendan recognized and knew meant trouble. She’d like to see the pompous Don Luís cut down a size or two, and with that thought in mind she
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