Free Golden Roses by Patricia Hagan Page A

expected of the Alezparito family. For many years, we have accepted from time to time the invitation of the president to represent him here in his box. It is an honor bestowed on our family because of my father’s glorious name.”
    He turned abruptly to Maretta, who seemed to be waiting for him to do so. As he nodded, she stood up and, with a single swift gesture, raised her white lace handkerchief and released it to flutter gently to the ground below. The crowd screamed with delight, and Valdis said to Amber, “It is the signal to begin the parade to open the day’s corrida. Allegra usually gives the signal, but I felt it best she remain at home today.” His expression grew dark. “She becomes more and more senile every day. I am afraid she will embarrass us if I allow her to be seen in public.”
    Amber started to speak up hotly, then decided it would do Allegra no good. She kept silent. She knew very well that Valdis was deliberately keeping Allegra locked away from her.
    Trumpets shrilled above the din, and Valdis leaned so close that Amber cringed. Excited, he explained, “See the two men riding out from under those arches? They are leading the procession, which heralds the entrance of the matadors.”
    As Valdis continued to speak, Amber scanned the procession entering the arena. The horses were prancing to stirring martial music. All around, people were screaming, arms waving as, suddenly, the three matadors of the day emerged from beneath the arch, each riding a splendid mount. Resplendent in costumes heavy with gold and silver embroidery, parade capes slung over their shoulders, they were a stirring sight.
    The matadors were preceded by the banderilleros, whose costumes were similar to the matadors’ but lacked the gold embroidery. The picadors wore broad-brimmed, low-crowned, beige hats, and costumes also similar to the matadors’. “See the steel armor sticking out from beneath their trousers on their right legs?” Valdis pointed to one of the picadors. “It is made of steel one-eighth of an inch thick and goes from hip to ankle. On their other leg, the armor is only knee-length. Their trousers are made of heavy chamois, and they also wear thick, protective chamois ankle boots.”
    As the matadors, still on horseback, approached the presidential box, the crowd roared deafeningly. The three men removed their hats and bowed. Amber felt a sudden rush as her eyes met Armand’s eyes. He smiled, and she knew he was addressing himself to her alone. She could feel Maretta’s angry look, but would not let herself care. Armand had been kind to her, and after all the sadness she had known, she was grateful.
    Her eyes moved over him. Strong, muscular thighs strained beneath skintight, knee-length trousers of richly embroidered satin. He wore a hand-drawn linen lace shirtwaist, coral pink stockings of heavy silk, and flat black slippers. His hat was made of tiny, black silk chenille balls, hand-sewn on heavy buckram. His sleek black hair was tied back in braids at the nape of his neck. His whole being exuded courage and strength, Amber reflected, a warm flush moving through her. She flashed a happy smile in his direction, which he returned eagerly.
    A moment later, the matadors whirled their horses about and returned to the procession. As they moved away, Maretta whispered to Valdis, “He is so beautiful. I must marry him soon. Make it happen, my brother.”
    “It will happen,” he said coldly, grimly. “Only be patient.”
    Amber pretended not to hear them. She gave her full concentration to the matadors, who were removing their heavy parade capes and handing them to attendants. The attendants spread the capes along the front of the wall that protected the first rows of seats. While this was being done, other men moved quickly to smooth the sand, which had been disturbed by the procession.
    One of the matadors selected a heavy cape, and Valdis said it was a fighting cape. It was rose-colored on the outside,