The Daughter of Doctor Moreau(47)

He stood up, and she followed him. The bougainvillea trees that grew in the courtyard were bursting with color, extending upon walls and offering clusters of splendid magenta blossoms to the sky. Eduardo maneuvered her toward one of those patches of wild blooms, quickly tucking her in the shadow of the flowers. She realized that, wrapped in this perfumed darkness, they could not be seen from the angle where Montgomery stood.

Before she could elicit a question from Eduardo, he pressed her against the wall and pressed his lips over her own. Her mouth opened to him, and she felt his arms twine around her waist, the boldness of his embrace making her resent her unskilled response, for she didn’t want to be thought an utter fool who knew nothing. But she didn’t really know anything, shyness warring with the desire to press back, to kiss him hard on the mouth.

Ladies should be meek, she thought, yet she raised one hand to grasp the lapel of his coat, and she placed the other around his neck, to pull him as close as close could be so that they would not be seen.

She thought her heart might burst at the feel of him, and when he rested his chin against the top of her head she was certain everyone at Yaxaktun must have heard it, beating like a drum. But she still tipped her head up and initiated another kiss, which elicited a laugh from him.

“Aren’t you bold?”

“I’m not,” she whispered. She really wasn’t, and she knew if Ramona or Montgomery saw them, they’d chide her, and this fear made her want to run away from him. But he was lovely, and she liked the way his body molded against her own, so she remained still.

“What might I give you that would please you?” he asked.

“Please me?”

“A gift, a trinket,” he said, his voice low, laced with a delicious ferocity that made her shiver. “Ask for anything.”

She thought the proper response might be to ask for flowers or bonbons, but she required neither. Her fingers brushed against the brass buttons of his jacket, and all she could say was the truth, the one thing she desired.

“Would you…if it was yours to give…would you ever give me Yaxaktun?”

“You are indeed bold,” he said.

He didn’t sound displeased, but she blushed. He kissed her quickly on the mouth before pulling away. Back again in the open they slowly walked around the courtyard, her hand resting on his arm. Montgomery was still standing where he’d been, smoking his cigarette, and on the ground there were the discarded ends of matches and a smoldering cigarette stub. When they walked by him he stomped on the stub and raised his eyes at them with such mockery that she was sure he’d seen them kissing after all and he’d scold them for it. But all he did was nod.

She hurried past him and back to her room. A little while later, Ramona came to help her out of her dress. The rustle of satin was loud against her sensitive ears, and she winced.

“Are you unwell?” Ramona asked.

“I’m tired,” Carlota said, sitting down. “And my nerves…I’m dreadfully nervous.”

Ramona took the pins from her hair. “Nervous about these menfolk? They’re only men, Loti.”

But they aren’t, she thought and peered into the glass, watching as Ramona placed the pins in a cup.

“Montgomery doesn’t like them,” she said.

“Mr. Laughton doesn’t like anyone. He’s sick, needs a healer who can listen to his blood.”

“He’s not sick.”

“Of course he is. Your papa can cure various sickness, but he doesn’t know about all illnesses. Mr. Laughton lost his soul. It flew away and it’s trapped somewhere. I told him once, go see a healer, wash away that sickness.” Ramona shrugged. “It doesn’t matter what Mr. Laughton thinks of anyone.”

“It matters what my father thinks,” Carlota muttered and turned her head. “Did a matchmaker arrange your marriage?”

Ramona nodded. “They consulted the stars and I had a fine necklace for my mujul. But it was not a good match.”

“I have no mujul,” she whispered, remembering what her father had said. That nothing in this house truly belonged to them. Not that Eduardo would have asked for a bride price, but she remembered the extent of her circumstances. “And how can you know whether the match will be good or bad?”

“You can’t,” Ramona said. “It is what it is. We all have a path to travel and a fate written in the book of days.”

But what, Carlota wondered, was her path?





Chapter 14


    Montgomery


They ventured by the edge of the water, to the place where the mangrove trees knotted themselves together like slick snakes. They were supposedly there to check on the skiff that was at the landing. It was their fastest method of transportation and their key to the outside world when they required supplies. They had to check on it periodically and also tend to the path that allowed access to the landing in the first place.

But it wasn’t necessary for them to sit down and dip their feet in the water, nor did they need to dawdle. Yet they did, because Montgomery was trying to keep Cachito out of sight and away from their guests. Cachito’s right eye was swollen from the beating Moreau had given him. Montgomery didn’t want them taking offense against him a second time.

“How’s that feeling?” he asked, pointing at the eye.