Surrender by Moonlight Read online

  "Not entirely," Dimitri said, taking another sip of the ale.

  "Most of Spain's colonies in this part of the world are in revolt."

  Dimitri nodded. Everyone knew that.

  "We are part of the Mexican colony and rebellion still rages there. Our governor is getting conflicting orders now from Spain and from the authorities in Mexico and knows not what to do. So he sits tight and waits and tries to keep this province peaceful. And some turbulence has spilled over to our lands and that mostly in the south. You will see, Don Dimitri. We are feeling the growing pressures and troubles on our lands. The governor, placed as he is, has to rely on the local landowners as peacekeepers. He has few troops at his command, as you will soon learn, and must ask all landowners to do their share. He needs Don Carlos and Don Gilberto to keep peace in the south. Having no heir here pressuring him, he would gladly give the lands for a pittance to them to buy their loyalty and support. You will have to persuade him, how I do not know, to recognize your claim. Here are copies of the papers and documents my father filed," Cesar added, laying a packet of papers on the rough table top. "The governor will have the signed copies."

  Dimitri was looking very grim and thoughtful as he tucked the papers into his jacket pocket. His blue eyes were heavily tinged with grey and his brows were tightly drawn together. "You will accompany us to Monterey?"

  "I must get back before they become suspicious of my absence. Don Gilberto seems to keep a close eye on what I do. I sent the horses to the village with a trusted lad, my own son, in fact," he admitted, "but I did not dare go there myself. I came here to visit my sister and her husband. They will think nothing of that, since I do come occasionally for a day or two but they would be suspicious of a longer absence."

  "As soon as the horses are rested, we will ride for Monterey. Be assured, Cesar," Dimitri said, holding the steward's gaze, "that this plot will be foiled and," he added, his eyes glinting with controlled anger, "your father's death avenged. I will not forget who was responsible for it. As for persuading the governor, I may have less trouble with him than you imagine! All the cards are not entirely in his hands!"

  Chapter Two

  Pablo Vicente de Sola, Governor of Alta California, looked from the card resting on his desk to the man seated quietly across from him. Not more trouble with that Russian settlement at Fort Ross! Sighing deeply, he fingered the card. "You are the Baron Dimitri Varanov?"

  "I am." The deep, smooth voice gave nothing away.

  "How may I serve you, m'lord? Is there some new problem at the settlement?"

  "Settlement?" Dimitri raised his brows in surprise. "If you refer to Fort Ross, I'm afraid I know little of the settlement there."

  The governor leaned forward. "You're not representing your people there? Then what . . . I mean," he said hastily, rewording his question in more polite terms, "what may I do for you?"

  "I have come to register my claim," Dimitri said evenly, "to the de Corderra lands, your Excellency. I am Alicia de Corderra's son and heir."

  "Register your! I see! Ah," he paused and studied the Russian nobleman more carefully. "It has been some time, I believe, since your mother died, Baron Varanov, and when no heir was forthcoming—"

  "It is two years since my mother died, your Excellency, and I am here now to register my claim. It has, in fact, been registered in my name by the steward of my estates but I am come to sign it personally." There was an unmistakable thread of steel in that smooth voice. "I could not come before due to my duties at Court."

  "Court?" The governor asked carefully.

  The governor's curiosity was so obvious that Dimitri smiled. "Czar Alexander's Court, Excellency, in St. Petersburg. He has released me from those duties so I might come and settle the details of my mother's estate."

  "That is most considerate of him," the governor murmured, trying to remember just what had been done about those de Corderra lands.

  Dimitri's smile grew. "He is my cousin," he said gently.

  "Fetch me the file on the de Corderra estates," the governor said hastily to his aide who waited silently by the door. The aide left and, while they waited, and he offered wine to his unexpected and unwelcome guest, the governor was doing some rapid thinking. If he remembered correctly, Don Carlos Balsas wanted that land and was urging him to declare all claims invalid. Now the governor was glad he had not yet signed the papers doing that. The situation with the Russians was awkward enough. An earlier administration had allowed a Russian settlement to be established north of San Francisco at Fort Ross and he was burdened with dealing with that. The settlers were not willing to leave; yet both the Church and the Crown officials in Mexico wanted them out. Since they were very reluctant to offend Czar Alexander by forcibly removing them, it had fallen to him to find a more acceptable way . . . one he had not yet found! There was also the fact that the Czar, one of the most powerful rulers in Europe these days, had been supporting the Spanish Crown's demands to have their rebellious South American colonies returned to them. The Czar could be as powerful an enemy as he was a friend! And here came this Russian nobleman, claiming his mother's lands and he was the Czar's own cousin! The Governor wiped the nervous perspiration from his brow and poured himself another glass of wine.

  Dimitri, clearly reading the trend of the governor's thoughts and his dilemma, was confident of the outcome. He leaned back and enjoyed his wine, hiding his amusement at the situation. It was no surprise to him when the governor, going through the file rapidly, assured him there would be no difficulty in legally registering his claim. Once his relationship to the Czar had been made clear, and knowing that the governor, poised uncertainly between his loyalty to Spain and loyalty to the rebellious colony further south, was well aware of the interest the Czar was taking in Spain's difficulties with her colonies, Dimitri knew that the governor would not deliberately offend a relative of that powerful monarch. In a choice between Dimitri, representing the Russian interests here, a situation already delicately poised, and the two landowners in the south who wanted more power (power the governor wasn't sure that he desired them to have), the governor had done the only logical thing he could do: he had recognized the legal claims Dimitri unquestionably had on the land. He also hoped, Dimitri realized, from the governor's conciliating tones, to secure Dimitri's own loyalty to him. If California continued to be the only Spanish colony not presently active in the growing rebellion against Spain, her position would grow more and more delicate, particularly if the Mexicans actually succeeded in their rebellion. To whom then would the governor, and his province, owe loyalty?

  "If you would call back tomorrow, I will have all the signed papers ready for you," the governor assured him.

  Dimitri rose, expressed his thanks and bowed, his eyes glimmering with amusement. Don Carlos Balsas would not be pleased by this news, nor would Don Gilberto Ramirez.

  Sergei joined him as Dimitri left the Governor's office and barely repressed his eagerness until they had reached the dusty street.

  "Well?"

  "There will be no problem in recognizing my claim. The governor will have all the papers for me tomorrow."

  "Excellent!" Sergei said, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. "Then we can go home."

  "Then we will go to the Hacienda Azahar."

  Sergei's face fell. "Why must we go there? You have done what you had to do, my lord! You said yourself that the claim is duly registered."

  "I intend to take charge of the estate myself, Sergei. Don't look so dismayed. You've accompanied me to worst places!"

  "Da, I have! Does your father know you intend to stay here for a time?"

  "He knows. If you feel you can't tolerate the conditions there, my friend, I can leave you at Fort Ross and Captain Pokovich will take you back home."

  Sergei stopped in the middle of the street and drew himself up, outrage clear on his lined face. "I have cared for you since you were a boy, my lord, and I would never abandon my responsibilities to you or your father because of s
uch a paltry reason and well you know it!"

  Dimitri bit back a grin. "I know, I know. You're quite sure I couldn't manage without you and you're probably right. If we could survive campaigning with the Czar during the war and endure the stresses and discomforts of the Vienna Congress, we can overcome difficulties here."

  "I suppose so." Sergei frowned. "The house there is large and comfortable, by your mother's accounts. It should not be impossible, if someone competent takes charge of the arrangements. We can at least be sure of a snug bed."

  "And you are more than competent Sergei, and manage to make us very comfortable wherever we find ourselves. I have great faith in you. I should guess, however, that our biggest problem will be one of boredom. Now that we've taken care of that little plot, I doubt if we'll hear too much from those two. Their plan didn't work and they will soon know it."

  "Cesar said they would continue to strive for the land. He more than suggested, my lord, that they would not give up so easily."

  "He may be right. We'll soon see, won't we? But as you know from years of experience, I'm not easy to get rid of, Sergei, and being forewarned lengthens the odds in our favor. No, if our luck continues to run as it has for the last two years, we'll find those two retreating and we'll take possession of a quiet, peaceful county estate, with no one of interest to talk to, nothing interesting to do, and we'll soon be wishing ourselves back in the boring, but lavishly comfortable, palace in St. Petersburg."

  Sergei shot him a shrewd glance. "And you, my lord, sound as if you'd welcome trouble!"

  Dimitri sighed. "Not that, exactly, but after so many years of ceaseless campaigning, it's difficult to think of settling down to a quiet life with nothing of interest to do! I'm not yet ready to retire to the kind of life my father leads and I wouldn't have the life my brother leads! If I thought my life at Court was dull, it was wildly exciting compared to his!"

  "Your brother, worthy gentleman that he is, takes his duties very seriously, my lord, and does not consider them dull at all."

  "I know," Dimitri retorted, "and that's even worse. He doesn't even know that they're dull! I'm far from ready to settle into a quiet corner by the fire. I expect I will at least have some decisions to make once we arrive there. Cesar mentioned, but didn't explain, that the estates had been having some difficulties. I gather that it is not as prosperous as it should be. That will have to be investigated also and we'll have to see what can be done about it. I just hope that we don't find that task too tiresome. We don't know a lot about estate matters, Sergei."

  The late morning sun slanted through the tall windows off the sala as Leonor swept in the door, a frown marring her lovely face. She went to her mother, ensconced in a tall backed chair by the windows. "Tomas tells me that visitors are arriving this afternoon."

  Dona Juana looked up from her stitching and smiled. "Indeed, they are, Leonor. The de Fonteiras, Don Vincente, Dona Constanza and, of course, Pablo."

  Leonor's scowl deepened. "I was not aware that you and Dona Constanza were such great friends, madre."

  "I like her well enough," Dona Juana said placidly.

  "If you only like her 'well enough'," Leonor said in exasperation, "then why did you invite them for a visit?"

  "Gilberto invited them. He felt we needed some company. Indeed," Dona Juana admitted, "it's been months since we had guests here to stay."

  "If he felt impelled to invite guests, why did he pick the de Fonteiras? I don't like Pablo, madre, and Don Gilberto will insist that I help entertain him!''

  Dona Juana's normally smooth, serene brow puckered slightly. "I do not see why you don't like him, Leonor. He's a fine young caballero, and he seems quite smitten with you!"

  "That," her daughter said darkly, "is exactly why I don't like him! He is always trying to get me alone—"

  Dona Juana chuckled. "All of the young men do that, child! You are quite beautiful and they admire you greatly."

  Leonor was not appeased by the compliment. "Pablo may have been born a gentleman, madre, but he certainly does not act like one! Tell my stepfather not to leave me alone with that young man!"

  "Why, Leonor, surely he wouldn't try—"

  "Would he not? I mean what I say. If he squeezes or pats me one more time, I'll slap his handsome face for him!"

  Leaving her mother looking shocked, her needlework abandoned in her lap, Leonor stalked from the room.

  Now why, she wondered, had Don Gilberto invited them? He didn't like Don Vincente at all. In fact, he often said Don Vincente was a bumbling old fool! Neither did he like Dona Constanza. Her high pitched, whining voice and constant complaints generally drove him from the room in a very short time. Pablo? Why would Don Gilberto want Pablo here? He knew, as well as she did, that Pablo was a weak, shallow playboy, with little in his head but providing himself with fresh amusements. A suspicion began to form in Leonor's mind but it was so preposterous that she dismissed it. Even Don Gilberto would not view Pablo de Fonteira as a suitable husband for her!

  By the third day of Pablo's visit, Leonor had changed her mind. Preposterous as it seemed, it was growing increasingly clear that what she had suspected was true: Don Gilberto was making every effort to throw the young people together, ignoring Leonor's protests and dark looks, and was even forcing himself to spend much of his time in the company of his guests.

  Coupled with her astonishment at this turn of events was her growing anger. Never would she consider that foolish young man for a husband and the sooner she made that clear to Don Gilberto, the sooner he would cease his embarrassing matchmaking. But Don Gilberto was taking care not to allow her the opportunity to talk to him about anything. When she did manage to corner him in the hallway one morning, he made soothing remarks and quickly excused himself on the plea of keeping his guests waiting.

  "I promised to show Dona Constanza around the garden and it is not polite to keep the lady waiting, Leonor."

  "But—"

  "Whatever little thing you have to discuss with me will have to wait. Now, if you'll excuse me—"

  And with that he disappeared. With eyes flashing, Leonor watched him stride into the sala. After a moment's thought, she whisked herself up to the safety of her room, before Pablo could be dispatched to keep her company. The more time she spent with that young caballero, the less she liked him or his groping hands. He seized every possible opportunity to touch her and she disliked it intensely. But at luncheon, she found herself outmaneuvered. Don Gilberto proposed a ride out on the estate this afternoon and she found her protests swept aside. Before she could think up a suitable excuse that he would have to accept, she was being sent off to change into her riding dress and meet her stepfather and Pablo at the stables. With an ill grace, Leonor complied.

  She was not surprised, either, when halfway through the ride, a groom came to fetch Don Gilberto.

  "My dear Pablo, I am terribly sorry. There is an urgent estate matter I must tend to. Leonor, of course, will continue your tour of the estate. No, I insist. I wouldn't dream of ruining such a nice outing for you two! Leonor, my dear, be sure and take Pablo up to the ridge. It offers such a fine view of the valley. I will rejoin you as quickly as I can."

  Consumed with frustration, Leonor watched Don Gilberto ride off and turned to glance at Pablo. He was giving her such a passionately suggestive look that she bit back the angry words hovering on her tongue and kicked her horse forward. "Come, I'll show you the ridge."

  "Senorita Leonor! Wait!" He swore then moved his horse forward to catch up with her flying figure.

  By the time they reached the ridge, he was panting from the exertion and she was suppressing a smile. Pablo de Fonteira considered himself an excellent horseman but he had been hard pressed to keep up with her. She and Raya knew this ground intimately and both made full use of that knowledge. Pablo, to his disgust and fury, was left there, enveloped in the cloud of dust his amorata left behind. By the time he reined in on the high ridge overlooking the valley, he was coated in dust and sweat,
his once immaculate coat and breeches powdered with the fine, grainy reddish brown dust and his hair in wild disorder. He furiously threw his reins over a low, gnarled branch and advanced on her. Leonor, leaning casually against a large boulder that was embedded in the shelf of dirt and rock that formed the edge, was as fresh as when she had started out. Her hair had escaped its cap in places, curling in inviting tendrils around her temple and nape, but her habit was smooth and free of the clinging gritty dust and her face blandly smooth and fresh.