If he could make her understand. If he could make her see the truth about her uncle, he could let her return to Rancho del Robles. His problem would be solved, and sooner or later, he would forget her.
Perhaps he would return to the stronghold and tell her the truth. He had nothing to lose in that.
Ramon shivered to think that he might lose his life if he was ever foolish enough to trust her completely.
***
The idea came from nowhere, or perhaps from the womanly instincts she’d always had but only recently begun to discover.
She had asked herself, who in the compound would most likely help her? The answer was—no one. All of them were loyal to the don. Who then had anything to gain by aiding her escape? She knew many more of them now. Some of them were mercenaries, as the don had implied when she had first arrived. They were there for a portion of the ill-gotten gains, but she had no money to pay them, and promises were worth very little.
Then it struck her.Miranda.
Miranda Aguilar wanted her gone from the camp.
The girl had come to the don’s house that first day to make it clear that she was his woman. She wouldn’t have come if she hadn’t seen Carly as some sort of threat. Would Miranda be willing to help her?
Carly had learned how to ride, at least a little. The don hadn’t taught her; he had left the day after their return from the Indian village. Ruiz and Sanchez had been giving her lessons. Both were fine horsemen and very good teachers, patient yet firm, determined now that they had undertaken the task to see she rode as well as any highborn Spanish woman.
They had been teaching her to sit astride, but they promised that if Don Ramon would find her a sidesaddle, they would teach her to ride that way, too. She wanted to. She knew it would please her uncle that she could ride like a fashionable lady.
For now it was enough that she could manage a horse well enough to get away.
If she could convince Miranda to help her.
Carly dressed with care that morning, brushing her hair till it shined with coppery fire, pulling it up with a pretty shell comb so that it fell seductively over one shoulder. She drew the top of her blouse down as far as she could, exposing the tops of her breasts, then made her way to Miranda’s cabin and lightly knocked on the door.
Footsteps sounded, the door swung open, and the dark-haired girl stepped out on the porch. Surprise flared in her eyes for a moment, then they narrowed in dislike.
“Don Ramon is not here,” she said, staring down her slender nose with contempt.
Carly just smiled. “Buenos dias,Miranda. A pleasant day, is it not?”
“Go away. I told you Ramon is not here.”
“I didn’t come to see Ramon,” Carly said, purposely using the more intimate address. “I came to see you.”
“Why?”
“Because I thought there might be something you could do for me… in exchange for something that I can do for you.”
Miranda eyed her coldly, then tossed back her mane of shiny black hair and motioned for her to come in. The cabin was small, only two rooms, but the earthen floor was swept so clean it looked polished, and freshly laundered curtains hung at the window sill. Carly could smell the woman’s sweet perfume.
“What makes you believe there is anything you can do for me?” Miranda said.
Carly tried not to think of how pretty she was, how lithe and graceful, that Ramon slept in her bed. Instead she concentrated on convincing the woman thatshewas the one Ramon preferred. “Perhaps there isn’t. Then again, perhaps you would be more than happy to see me gone from here. If that is the case, then maybe we can do business.”
Miranda’s eyes wandered over Carly’s breasts, assessing their size and shape. “Ramon wants you here. Why should I disobey him?”
They stood next to a rustic table and chairs but Miranda didn’t offer her a seat. “That is exactly the reason—because Ramon wants me here. Or perhaps he simply wants me.”
“He does not want you,puta.Why should he? Already, he has me.”
“If that is so, then why did he kiss me?”
Her chin jutted up, her eyes growing dark with anger but not surprise. She knew something had happened between them. The women in the cart must have guessed. Perhaps they even believed that was why the don had left the stronghold.
“Ramon is a man,” Miranda said. “It is a man’s desire to rut with any woman willing to please him.”