The Daughter of Doctor Moreau(60)
“What are you thinking?”
“My father needs to offer the secrets of his formula to the hybrids. This is to be a sanctuary, not my father’s playground.”
“What a strange thing for you to say, since you are the obedient child who loves him so well.”
“I love Lupe and Cachito, too. And they are unhappy. I want to make sure they will never be mistreated. My father wishes me to be a woman grown, then I must be one. But such a position conveys responsibilities I cannot shirk.”
“You have spoken to your father, then?”
“I asked him for the formula. I’m not as big a coward as you assume.”
“I apologize for saying you were.”
She seemed surprised at that and nodded. Her back was very straight. She clasped her hands together. “When I asked my father to give me the formula, he said he would not and that I was too foolish to understand his science. I looked through my father’s notes, trying to discern the answer. I’ve not found the information I need. But I will keep my promise.”
“You are angry at him, then.”
“I am not. Anger is not what drives me to this. It is, as I said, my love of Lupe and Cachito and the others.”
“And there is also all your love for Eduardo. A mighty amount of love you have,” he said, unable to control his tongue.
“I am happy and wish for others to be happy, too. Is that such a terrible thing?” she asked. “Do you not wish others joy?”
“What should I know?” he muttered, remembering that he had taken that blasted letter to Vista Hermosa hours before. Her happiness was bound to be short-lived if Hernando Lizalde caught wind of this situation. Perhaps that was why Eduardo wanted a quick wedding, hoping he might seal the bargain before his family could intervene. Or else it was the pull of the blood, the want for the girl to begin warming his bed as soon as possible.
“If we should all be safe, then I would be happy.”
“Is that all, then? Are you sacrificing yourself for the well-being of others?” he asked.
“I love Eduardo.”
Love at that age was a fire that sparked quickly, so it shouldn’t have surprised him when she spoke earnestly, but it still stung to hear her voice her affection with such ease. She’d known the boy for a second and a half, and already her lips curled with honeyed sweetness when she spoke his name. Give her a month and she’d be ready to press an asp to her breast if the spoiled brat ever left her.
“How would you know love? From thumbing through a thesaurus or an encyclopedia? From the pen of Altamirano or another writer you fancy? Love! He is rich and that is good,” Montgomery said, even though he didn’t want to be spiteful.
“Why should you define love for me?” she asked, eyes narrowing with indignation.
“Love is easy when you can dangle exotic jewels in front of a lady. If he were a cobbler, for all his prettiness, you wouldn’t have accepted him.”
He thought she might respond with a passionate tirade, but instead Carlota’s eyes grew sad.
“Monty, I do not like you when you are cruel.”
“I am always cruel,” he said, more for the sake of contradicting her than to make a real point. He was about to accede to anything she wished and now simply delayed his surrender.
“No, you are not,” she said, shaking her head. “You like to tell yourself you are and to hide from the world. But you are a decent man and I believe I can trust you to take care of this place. I know you love Yaxaktun. My father resides here, but he doesn’t love it.”
“Carlota, I promise I will assist you if you ask it of me,” he said. He didn’t want to say he’d care for Yaxaktun, because he could hardly promise such a thing knowing that Hernando Lizalde might not sanction his son’s engagement with the girl.
That letter! Why had he sent the damn letter? How could he look the girl in the eye with such a sword dangling over their heads? And after she’d said she loved Eduardo, that fool.
She scrutinized his face, perhaps trying to find a lie, and he looked down.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Don’t thank me, Carlota. I’ve done you no favors today,” he muttered.
But she couldn’t possibly understand what he meant and merely shrugged, moving away, out of his reach, her feet light, her wrapper fluttering behind her as a breeze blew through the courtyard, sending flower petals splashing against the lantern.
Chapter 19
Carlota
After Eduardo asked for her hand in marriage, he announced that he would remain at Yaxaktun until their wedding. His cousin did not seem pleased by this, but Eduardo was besotted and he told Carlota he would not part from her side. She suspected that he also hoped to find an occasion that they might sneak away to the cenote again, but that was not to be had. Isidro had appointed himself their chaperone, and if he wasn’t around, then Montgomery emerged, walking a few paces behind the couple as they went around the courtyard.
Carlota dearly wished to have more than a fleeting kiss on the cheek from her betrothed, but she reminded herself patience is a virtue and instead distracted herself going through more of her father’s papers. It was a fruitless pursuit, and although she’d asked Montgomery, he’d said he did not have the key to the glass cabinet that had drawn Carlota’s attention. Patience, again, must be had.