Stronger Than Passion by Sharron Gayle Beach Read Free Book Online

to the front of the house.
    Don Ignacio del Rivera, the Condé de Castillo, sat across from her, not bothering to - as he put it caustically - “gape at the show.”
    The Condé was not fond of Santa Anna, his own relation. He had always considered him vulgar.
    Yet Christina was cautiously excited at the prospect of seeing him again and basking in his charisma, which would wear on her soon but which now, after two years of deliberate seclusion from any frivolous diversion, seemed refreshing. As did the party itself, with its distinguished crush of guests. She refused to allow Don Ignacio’s disgruntled temper to spoil her enjoyment.
    She wasn’t aware the Condé was making a study of her until she turned from the window and caught him at it.
    She smiled, and reached across to take the dignified old grandee’s hand. “I am prepared for all this, really. It is time.”
    Don Ignacio’s gruffness did not conceal his concern.
    “It is time for a great many things, my daughter. Not the least of which is finding you another husband. This incident with the Yanqui has only convinced me even more. Since you refuse to live in my house, you must have another man.”
    Christina removed her hand and made a face.
    “I don’t want to marry. I only want to go out in society again.”
    “I certainly don’t blame you for not wishing to remarry, after having endured the immature caprices of my son for three years. I certainly did you a disservice in arranging your removal from Spain to marry him, didn’t I?” His slight smile was full of regretful irony. “Felipé was never enough of a man nor a master, not for you. And that was not the least of his many faults. However, this time I have a gentleman in mind for you who will look after you as you deserve.”
    “I don’t need looking after! You know that my estate is in good condition.”
    “Of course it is, my dear. You are an excellent Patrona. Yet war is coming, no matter how foolish it all is, and you need a younger man than I to protect you and defend your property. You need Luis Arredondo.”
    “Luis?” She laughed. “Luis will never remarry, either.”
    “Oh yes, he will. And it is you he wants. He wrote to me, Christina. He asked for my blessing.”
    “I can’t believe it! You misunderstood him.”
    “No, I did not.”
    Just then the carriage jolted to a stop. They had reached the house; it was time to alight.
    The Condé caught Christina’s arm before she could move, his grip strong for a seventy-year-old man. “If Luis speaks to you tonight, do not refuse him immediately.”
    “Very well. But he won’t.”
    *
    The grounds and the interior of El Encero were decorated on a military theme, and as Christina and the Condé ascended the small flight of stairs that led up to the gallery and into the entrance hall, they passed several banners proclaiming victory and a host of servants disguised as soldiers. Santa Anna had evidently spared no expense on this party; the music of an orchestra wafted in from somewhere and vied with the nosier sounds of a roving mariachi band, while all of the rooms that led off of the large foyer were brightly lit, and crowded with card tables, refreshments and huge bouquets of flowers. An inordinate amount of weaponry, however, adorned the walls, speaking reminders of Santa Anna’s present occupation.
    Christina and Don Ignacio were separated by the tide of people rushing to greet them. The Condé’s cronies and a few sycophants herded him into one of the card rooms, while Christina was carried by a voluble wave into the ballroom. Unused to crowds, and to being casually touched, she found herself overwhelmed by the fascinated attention she was receiving. She had forgotten what a social success she had been before, due more to her noble Spanish ancestry than to her marriage into a leading Mexican hidalgo family.
    The Mexican upper class had apparently either not known, at the time of her marriage, of the profound disgrace her father the