Not for the first time in his life, Lisandro gave a silent prayer of thanks that his smuggler friend owned a private yacht. Smaller boats were handy for slipping in and out of countries, especially when one didn’t want to have to deal with the authorities or the pesky issue of import duties.
“Agreed. If we go from Portsmouth around to Bilbao and then overland, I think that will give us the best chance of remaining undetected for as long as possible,” replied Lisandro.
Maria slowly turned her head and met his gaze. From the tight set of her jaw and lips, she wasn’t as sure as she’d seemed only a minute ago. “Do you really think there are others who would risk trying to kidnap me once more?”
The moment had come to tell Maria a little more of what had happened while she was in the hands of her captors. Lisandro didn’t want to frighten her, but she had to know what they would be facing on the long and dangerous road home.
“There were men involved in your capture in Spain, and they remain at large. I met several of them in Zarautz, which is why we won’t risk trying to sail into that port. The matter of the ransom is also still yet to be settled,” he said.
“So, my father never paid it? I wasn’t sure if the masked man was telling the truth when he made mention of the money. In my few moments of clarity, I had wondered if this was payback for something my father had done rather than just a simple kidnapping,” she replied.
Stephen leaned forward, hands folded, and frowned. “What do you mean?”
Lisandro held up one hand. “Wait, let’s keep to the topic of discussion. Maria, your family did hand over a significant ransom, but instead of you being returned to them, a second demand for money was made. The kidnappers wanted another two hundred and fifty thousand pesos.”
“Increíble! Demente!” she cried.
He couldn’t disagree. It was a huge sum of money. Something beyond the means of most noble families, though perhaps not the Elizondo clan.
“Now you understand why Diego came to see me. His concern, of course, being that even if your family paid the second ransom, there was no guarantee it would secure your release. And that was before any of us knew you had been taken to England,” he replied.
Maria shot to her feet. “My family do not know I am here?!”
Lisandro rose and stood next to her. “I sent word to your brother just before I sailed. I trust that he will have told your parents something of your whereabouts.”
“But not your involvement or why he chose you,” she replied.
“Likely no. When Diego came to Castle Tolosa, it was without your father’s knowledge.”
“Because of our feud?” Maria said, but her tone was heavy with mistrust.
“Or was there another reason?”
You are clever, Maria. And I appreciate an intelligent woman.
“Your father seems to have concerns about who he could trust at Castle Villabona.”
A look of shock appeared on Maria’s face, but to her credit she kept silent.
I promise that in time we will find out who the traitors are in your father’s house.
This deed will not go unpunished.
Chapter Fourteen
Time was of the essence. Getting Maria back to Spain was the highest priority for everyone.
More than anything, she wanted to go home and see her family. To let them know that she was alive and safe.
Two days after her rescue, Lisandro helped Maria into a small travel coach and then climbed aboard after her. Stephen and Gus were riding shotgun on the roof of the carriage. As a father-to-be, Lord Harry stayed behind in London with Toby. The boy had protested about being left out of the next exciting instalment of the rescue adventure, but Stephen was adamant he would not be exposed to any further danger.
Maria, wrapped in one of Gus’s spare woolen coats, the shawl draped over her legs, settled into the corner of the coach. “How long will it take for us to reach Portsmouth?” she asked.
“It’s a good eighty miles, so a day or so at a fair clip. Stephen’s estate is on the way and we can overnight there. Rest assured, everything that can be arranged to ensure your safety is being done. Anyone who wants to question Stephen or Gus’s aim with a rifle is in for a nasty shock,” he replied.
He pulled two pistols out of his coat and tucked one in the door pocket on either side of the carriage. Her gaze took in the rifle which was already nestled under the bench on which he sat.
From the way he and the others had been passing knives and small pistols around just before they left the offices of the RR Coaching Company, she wouldn’t be surprised if Lisandro had at least another three or four weapons hidden on his person. There was comfort in knowing that any enemy who might seek to attack them would be met with unrestrained force.
As the coach pulled out of the yard at the rear of Gracechurch Street, Maria sat forward and gave a farewell wave to Toby and Harry. She would forever be in the debt of these people—strangers who had risked their lives to save her, people she now considered friends.
“I am still going to send Toby a gift once I get home. Not as payment, but as a token of my appreciation. Sir Stephen wants him to be a gentleman, so I think a Cuenca carpet would be the perfect thing for him,” she said.
Lisandro raised an eyebrow. “That’s a princely gift.”
She arranged her skirts and gave Toby one last wave goodbye. “Well, considering that he was the one who first spotted me throwing the food out the window, then observed what it did to the dog, I think it only right.”
Lisandro chuckled softly.
Maria was pleased that the boy and the dog would come out of this little adventure better off—Toby with a fine woolen rug; the bulldog, Snick, a new home.
“I must admit to thinking the name he gave the dog is a little strange. What exactly does the word ‘snick’ mean?” she said.
“It’s an old Dutch word. It means ‘to cut.’ The bulldog is meant to be a combat dog, so I think Toby went with something along those lines. Though with hardly any teeth and one missing leg, I would suggest Snick’s fighting days are well over,” replied Lisandro.
It seemed the dog was settling quickly into the RR Coaching Company family and was already in grave danger of becoming chubby. Every time Maria saw the animal, someone was slipping it a tasty treat.
“Speaking of payments, are you going to tell me what Diego is paying you for this rescue mission? I don’t expect you are doing it out of the goodness of your heart,” she said. She had learned to trust Lisandro to a certain extent, but considering the history between their two families, Maria was sure he would be extracting some form of reward for his efforts. Why else would he risk his life by coming all the way to England to rescue her?
He scowled at her.
Did I just offend him? No. That is not possible.
Everyone knew the Duke of Tolosa, and his forebears never did anything unless it somehow served their own interests. They might not ever fulfil a contract, but her honorable family certainly did.
“Actually, I told Diego I didn’t want any sort of financial reward for bringing you home; I simply wished to be granted permission for you and me to spend some time together. To possibly become friends. I feel that there was a connection between us that night on the terrace, and I would like, with your permission, to be able to further that relationship,” he replied.
And Diego said yes?
She turned to gaze out the window, staring hard at the passing streets of London. Lisandro wishing to know her better was impossible. Notwithstanding the ongoing feud, she was also meant to be getting betrothed to the Count of Bera. What could possibly have prompted Diego to agree to such a thing?
Desperation, or perhaps something else? What am I not seeing?
That first night at the ball in Zarautz, Lisandro had affected her. Sitting this close to him stirred those powerful memories once more. Despite how she wished otherwise, her blood heated whenever he was near.
But he is the enemy of my family.<
br />
She kept repeating that mantra over and over in her mind, but it no longer stuck as fast as it had always done. Viewing the man, she had been raised to hate as an honorable human being rather than a rogue was difficult. It made her question too many things. It was all manner of uncomfortable.
“Setting aside your strange notions of you and I somehow becoming friends, I still don’t understand why you offered to help. I would have thought allowing my family to suffer would be exactly what you would have wanted.” Maria gripped the fabric inside the pockets of her coat, twisting it in her fingers.
Lisandro remained silent. The air hung heavy and thick between them.
Please say something.
“I don’t think the idea of us being friendly toward one another is strange at all, Maria. I think it quite sound. Let me ask you this: do you know how the feud between our families began?” he asked.
She huffed. Of course, she knew. The dirty, thieving eighth Duke of Tolosa had stolen from her family. Everyone in their part of Spain knew the story. “One hundred years ago, your family committed a great crime against mine. We have been sworn enemies ever since,” she replied.
That was as plain as she could say it without making it too personal. Lisandro’s ancestors had started it—not him. But the bloodline was still tainted.
To her surprise, Lisandro nodded. “Yes, my forebears did wrong. But from the sounds of it, I think you have been told a different version of the story to the one I know. So, let you and I make a deal, Maria. If we make it back to Spain in one piece, I will tell you the whole tale of the feud. And when you have heard it, you can ask your father if what I have said is true.”
She didn’t like the way he spoke about the row between the two families. He seemed to take it far too lightly.
If you had any idea as to how many times, we have toasted the destruction of the dukes of Tolosa, you wouldn’t think it so amusing.
“Maria, I simply want to return you home to your family. Only a man made of stone could have refused Diego when he came to Castle Tolosa, asking for my help. My reward, if freely given, would be your friendship. As to whether your father wishes to allow you and I to spend time together, I don’t think he is in a position to refuse. His honor and that of your brother are dependent on it.”
She turned to gaze out the window watching the view as it changed from crowded and dirty streets to open fields. Maria found herself fighting with a new and unexpected reality. She was fast discovering that not only was Lisandro brave, but he was a man in possession of a good heart.
Seeing her enemy as even more than a fair-weather friend went against all that she had been taught to believe. But if, as he suggested, there was another side to the feud, she owed it to herself to find out what it was.
It wouldn’t be the first time that a story had gotten legs and become a twisted version of itself as it grew into legend.
Perhaps she and Lisandro could find a way to become friends.
She glanced back at him once more. The interest he had stirred within her at their first meeting, flared up again and she didn’t attempt to resist. She didn’t want to fight it.
Perhaps they could become more.
Chapter Fifteen
At the end of a long day on the road, after a number of changes of horses, the coach pulled into the entrance of a country estate. The manor was set well back from the London to Portsmouth road. It would be difficult for anyone to try and hide if they sought to approach the house unseen.
As Maria stepped down from the carriage, she stretched her back and shoulders. Every muscle was tight. “Hopefully I will sleep tonight,” she said.
Lisandro met her gaze. “Didn’t you sleep well last night?”
Maria shook her head. The drugs had done their job while she had been held captive, but it would take time for her body to readjust to sleeping without them.
“Not very well. I am exhausted. I don’t expect I will get a solid night’s rest until I am safely back home in Spain.”
She could also privately admit to still not fully trusting her rescuers. The medallion from Diego had gone a long way to settling her fears, but until she could actually ask her brother what had been discussed between him and Lisandro, she would remain on her guard.
He talks of friendship, yet I feel that there is more to what he and Diego agreed.
Being constantly on edge frayed her nerves. She yearned to enjoy a long, restful sleep under the shade of one of the giant oak trees at her family’s home in Villabona. To wake and find her maid bringing her a refreshing glass of sangria.
I just want to be back in Spain.
Stephen and Gus climbed down from the top of the coach. While Gus led the horses around to the rear stables, Stephen headed toward the front door.
He rummaged around in his coat pocket for a key, then turned to the others. “I’m afraid this won’t be a warm meal and cheery fireside evening. I only employ a man to come up from the local village once a week to check on the place. Other than that, the house is usually empty.”
Maria’s heart sank. She had been looking forward to some hot food. But they would have to make do. This was just a one-night stop on the road to Portsmouth. On the road home.
“If you get yourselves inside and perhaps start a fire, I will ride into Witley and see what food and supplies I can rustle up for us. Hopefully, my estate keeper’s wife will have done some baking today,” said Stephen.
“Good idea,” replied Lisandro.
Stephen disappeared around the side of the small manor house, leaving Maria and Lisandro alone at the front door.
They exchanged a shy smile. Maria drew comfort from it. Considering that he stirred strange emotions within her, it was nice to know that Lisandro also felt somewhat awkward when they were alone. She was supposed to mistrust and dislike this man; instead, she found herself secretly longing to be with him.
I wonder if he also senses this odd tension between us. This magnetic pull.
When he held out his hand to her, Maria hesitated. They had spent the better part of the day sitting in silence in the coach. Lisandro had slept for most of that time while she had watched the green English countryside as it passed by.
He let out an obvious huff of frustration. “Since you and I are going to be spending a lot of time together over the next couple of weeks, may I suggest that you consider lowering your guard.”
Maria winced as heat raced to her cheeks. “I am sorry. I must appear to be so ungrateful for all that you have done for me. I just don’t . . .”
She fought sudden tears as she stared at Lisandro’s offered hand. Her sensible self was forever at pains to remind her that she was supposed to mistrust him.
As she slipped her hand into his, Maria consoled herself with the thought that if Lisandro did indeed return her safely home, anything between them would come to naught. That whatever feelings he stirred within her wouldn’t matter. Their lives were set on different paths. She was supposed to become the wife of Juan Delgado Grandes.
But changes in circumstances might see your life alter in ways you didn’t expect.
She did her best to ignore her heart as it softly whispered.
Take a chance.
At times, dealing with Maria was like trying to handle a skittish horse. Just when he thought she was beginning to relax in his company, she would suddenly pull away. She still didn’t trust him, and that bothered Lisandro more than it should.
Anyone would think I was a monster.
He led her into the house. The downstairs rooms were either empty or had a few items of furniture covered by heavy Holland cloths. It was clear that no one lived in the house.
“Let’s see what we can find upstairs,” said Lisandro.
They wandered around on the first floor for a short time in the fading evening light, searching for candles and tapers. In a small sitting room, they came upon a hearth which had wood and kindling already set to be lit.
“Gracias a dios,” a relieved
Lisandro sighed.
He located a tinderbox, and soon the warmth of a fire had taken the chilly edge off the room.
Gus popped his head around the door a short while later. “Excellent. Just what we need. I’ve stayed here a couple of times on my way to and from the coast, and always leave a fire ready for when I arrive late at night. There are also some beds made up in the rooms farther along the corridor.”
The idea of a comfy bed was full of promise—but Lisandro could not indulge. He had to keep watch tonight.
Thank heavens I managed to get a few hours of sleep in the coach this afternoon.
Gus settled into a chair close to the fire and gave Maria a cheery grin. “Hopefully this is your last night in England, Doña Maria. If we leave early enough in the morning, we should make it to Portsmouth in time for you to sail on the late evening tide.”
“Thank you. I am looking forward to going home,” she replied.
A short while later, Stephen joined them. He was followed by a middle-aged gentleman carrying a large basket. Lisandro’s stomach growled at the heady aroma of hot pie which filled the room.
And a jug of cider and some fresh bread. And cheese. Magnífico.
“This is Mister Granville. He looks after the house for me,” said Stephen.
Gus welcomed the visitor with open arms. “And you brought me your wife’s famous beef pies! Granville, you are a godsend.”
After setting the provisions out on a nearby low table, Granville handed Gus a small glass jar filled with a pale liquid. “Be honest,” he said.
All eyes were on the exchange. Stephen chuckled softly. “Here we go.”
Gus opened the jar, held his nose to it and took a deep breath. “Hmm. Good structure. Not too acidic. I note a hint of something new. Have you added a cherry or two in?”
Granville grinned. “Plums.”
The master smuggler lifted the glass to his lips and took a sip. “Oh. That’s good. You are getting better at this.”
Devoted to the Spanish Duke Page 7
