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Devoted to the Spanish Duke

Page 9

by Sasha Cottman


  When they finally drew alongside the yacht, Gus scrambled out of his seat and tossed a line up to one of the sailors onboard. A rope ladder was thrown down to them.

  Maria accepted Lisandro’s hand and he pulled her to her feet. With arms wrapped around her waist, he then lifted Maria up to the ladder. “Put your foot on the first rung and your hands either side, gripping the rope. Then pull. I will be behind you, making sure you don’t fall,” he said.

  She might well have been a gently bred noblewoman, but Maria de Elizondo was experienced in the art of riding. Climbing the ladder was very similar to putting her boot into a stirrup and getting onto a horse. In fact, she found it was easier. She would challenge any man to get into a sidesaddle as elegantly as she quickly managed to get onboard the yacht.

  With her feet firmly on the deck, Maria breathed a sigh of relief. While the yacht itself wasn’t an overly large vessel, it appeared sturdy. The crew, who were bustling about, all seemed to know their places and tasks.

  This should make it all the way to Spain. I hope.

  Quick introductions were made to the captain. She was just beginning to feel comfortable when Gus and Lisandro shook hands. They then embraced in a back-slapping hug.

  “Next time don’t take so long to come to England. And make sure you arrive ready to stay for more than a few days. Monsale and George will be most disappointed that they have missed you this visit,” said Gus.

  The thought of it only being her and Lisandro facing the long road home had Maria’s nerves back on edge. I hope that these days at sea will allow us to talk and build on our budding friendship.

  Gus turned and bowed low. “Doña Maria, thank you for being such an excellent hostage. It was a pleasure to rescue you. I hope we shall meet again someday, preferably under less dramatic circumstances.” He righted himself, then leaned in and whispered in her ear, “Take the time while you are at sea to consider your future. You could do a lot worse than Lisandro. And don’t think for one minute that he isn’t watching you with more than just your safety in mind. I think you may have stolen his heart.”

  Maria’s gaze shifted from the chopping waves to the overcast sky, and then back to Gus. She looked everywhere but at Lisandro. “Thank you. And yes, I will take your advice and give that matter much consideration.”

  She moved away from the side of the boat as Gus gave Lisandro one final hearty slap on the back. “Take care and make sure you return this young woman safely home. We shall see you again, Don de Aguirre.”

  The master smuggler climbed down and back into the rowboat. For an average-sized man, Augustus Jones was in possession of a strong set of shoulders. Within minutes of taking his leave, he was well on his way back to shore.

  Lisandro glanced at her. “There goes someone used to hastily fleeing in a rowboat late at night. He is built strongly as an ox. Come, let me show you down to the cabin.”

  Down?

  Maria quickly surveyed the deck once more. Unlike a proper ship, the yacht didn’t appear to have a captain’s cabin on the weather deck. In fact, apart from the mast, ropes, and sails, there was little to be seen topside.

  Lisandro met her gaze. “No point in having a nice fancy cabin up top if the local militia or navy are firing at you. Much safer to be below deck.”

  Below deck. Small spaces. Oh dear.

  She swallowed deep, forcing the first signs of panic down as best she could. With more than a little reluctance, she followed Lisandro as he headed for a nearby ladder. Every rung that she stepped on was a descent into fear, and a battle against a rising tide of nausea—one she thought she may lose.

  When they reached the main deck, Lisandro pointed toward a small cabin.

  “That’s yours. I hope you will be comfortable enough in it,” he said.

  I have wardrobes bigger than that.

  Her cabin, if one could call it that, was barely a door and a thin bulkhead comprised of alternating slats. While it would afford Maria some privacy, it would also hem her in.

  It’s like a tiny prison cell.

  Reaching out, she took hold of Lisandro’s coat sleeve. “I have to tell you—I am not good with small spaces. They give me nightmares, and I tend to wake up screaming,” she said.

  “Good to know. Thank you for telling me. I will be sleeping in a hammock just outside your cabin, so if you have any problems during the night you only have to open your door and I will come to your aid,” he replied.

  Maria studied his face for a moment. What was it with this man? Every time she posed any sort of issue, he always seemed to be able to find a solution. Nothing she asked for ever appeared to be a problem. Remind me again how it is that you are the enemy of my family?

  “Let’s go back up on the weather deck. We will be setting sail shortly; you might want to give England your final goodbyes,” he said.

  As soon as her head cleared the main deck and she was able to breathe the fresh sea air again, the tension in her neck and jaw eased. Grinding her teeth was a nervous habit she had never been able to overcome.

  While the crew busied themselves about the yacht, she and Lisandro stood gazing back at Portsmouth Harbor. In the distance, she fancied she could see Stephen and Gus waiting on the shore, still protecting her.

  “You have the finest of friends. I don’t think many people would be able to count on such loyalty or bravery from even their own family,” she said.

  “Yes, they truly are good comrades. But don’t think for one minute that they are not capable of misdeeds. Every one of them is up to his neck in some sort of dirty business,” he replied.

  She glanced in his direction. “Something tells me that they might say the very same thing about you. You are loyal and brave, but it takes a particular kind of man to be able to do what you did at the house in Queen Anne Street. To risk your life for someone else. I don’t expect that was something you had planned for your life when you were a boy.”

  Lisandro’s gaze remained fixed on the shore. “Sometimes you have to make decisions which lead you in a different direction to that which you had planned. The war with Napoleon did that for many of us, including my English friends. What is happening in Spain at the moment will make other men have to face similar choices.”

  And women. Don’t forget that Spain is our country too.

  They moved to the bow of the ship, out of the way of the sailors who readied the ropes and canvases. The sea breeze was stronger here and it whipped Maria’s hair about her face. She attempted to tuck her wayward strands behind her ears, but it was to no avail—the wind was too strong.

  Lisandro shifted to the other side of her, sheltering Maria from the gusty turbulence. They were close enough now that her shoulder brushed against his coat sleeve. Lisandro slipped his arm free and wrapped it around her. Maria leaned in against him.

  Neither spoke. This moment didn’t call for words. It was as if a curtain had been pulled back, giving them both a glimpse of what a future together could look like. And as they silently stepped through that doorway, she knew this was what she wanted. They would never again be strangers.

  Gus’s words came back to her mind. “I think you may have stolen his heart.”

  She had stopped fighting the knowledge that Lisandro was the man who could give her a different life to the one she had so recently thought was her only destiny. In Lisandro’s arms she would always be safe.

  But as much as she now trusted him to protect her, Maria was no wilting flower. Whatever lay ahead, she was prepared to fight alongside him. Without the others to protect them, she was determined to be someone he could rely upon. For him to know that she would fire a pistol without hesitation, if it came to it.

  “Gus said that we would face more danger when we got back to Spain.” She broke free of his embrace and turned to face him. “I need to know what you think might happen. Please don’t keep me in the dark. Give me a weapon if you need me to wield one.”

  He nodded. “We are sailing into Bilbao; it is the only major po
rt where this yacht can berth without raising too many suspicions. I couldn’t risk Zarautz even though it is closer to Castle Tolosa.”

  “Castle Tolosa?”

  “I am not taking you home to Villabona. Diego and I agreed that until we know who is behind your kidnapping, it would be safer for you to remain hidden at my home.”

  She stared at him, mouth agape with shock. No one had made mention of this before. “What did Diego tell you? He must have his suspicions.”

  Lisandro glanced over his shoulder back down the deck. The crew were well out of earshot.

  The expression on Lisandro’s face was grave. He closed his eyes, then let out a slow breath. “When you and Señor Perez were attacked on the beach. Did you see him fall?”

  Maria flinched at the unexpected question. She had made mention to Lisandro and his friends about the morning she was taken, but they had never fully discussed it. Other than having a sack thrown over her head and then being knocked out, she hadn’t thought there was much else to add.

  While she searched her vague memories of that morning, Maria’s gaze drifted to the wooden deck of the ship. She focused on a nearby coil of rope, tracing the lines as they wound round and round.

  “I saw him knocked down. He didn’t get back up. I thought at the time he might be dead, but Diego told you he was still alive, that he had recovered.” Lifting her head, she met Lisandro’s gaze. His face was still set hard. “You cannot be thinking what I think you are. That’s impossible.”

  “Your brother believes his innocence too, but none of us can be certain what really did happen to him. The fact that Señor Perez was found wandering the beach in a daze later that morning has always raised questions in my mind,” he replied.

  She shook her head in disbelief. How could a man she had known most of her life be involved in the plot to kidnap her? Her father trusted him. Had given him a position of great honor and responsibility within the dukedom.

  “But they attacked him. I saw it,” she said.

  The plea in her own voice had Maria putting a hand to her lips; she didn’t want to think the worst of Señor Perez. But why had he been so insistent on them taking a walk along the beach? And it had been his idea to go over to the boat and ask about clams.

  Tears pricked her eyes as she drew in a shuddering breath. This didn’t make sense.

  “Can I suggest that you saw what you were meant to see? I expect the blow was real but possibly not as hard as you might have thought. My experience of kidnappers is that they don’t usually stay their hand when it comes to innocent bystanders,” he said.

  “I am not doubting you, but if this is possibly true then why didn’t you or Diego speak to my father? As far as I am aware, Señor Perez is still in a position of great power within Castle Villabona.”

  The moment the words left her lips, realization dropped into her mind like a stone into a pond. Of course, no one had made a move to accuse Señor Perez of any wrongdoing. If he was indeed involved in her kidnapping, the last thing her family would want to do would be to put her in greater danger by having him arrested.

  “Until we can get to the truth of the matter, we need to leave Señor Perez where he is. The man may be innocent. But if he is in league with the people who stole you, we must keep your rescue a secret for as long as we can,” replied Lisandro.

  “And if he is innocent, we don’t want to go accusing a favored family advisor. Someone who has served not only my father, but his country,” she said.

  The mere notion of having been betrayed by a man she considered a de facto uncle struck deep in her heart. She could only pray that Lisandro had the wrong of it, that someone else was behind it all.

  But the seeds of suspicion and doubt had been sown.

  A sense of great weariness settled over Maria, her only comfort coming when Lisandro reached out and drew her into his arms. With her head resting against his chest, she stared out over the dark blue waters of Portsmouth Harbor, barely noticing when the ship began to move. Being this close to Lisandro was as natural as breathing.

  She had long thought about making it home to Castle Villabona. To what she had always thought was her one true place of safety. Now, with the worry over Señor Perez and other unseen foes, it no longer seemed such a refuge. She and Lisandro were moving from danger and possibly toward greater peril.

  There are enemies in my father’s house.

  As the English coastline slowly disappeared into the distance behind them, Maria turned to Lisandro. “Promise me something, will you? Tell me what is happening and when we are in real danger. If death is coming for me, I would like to know before it arrives.”

  He took her hands in his and met her gaze. Steely resolve shone within his eyes.

  “There are many miles between here and your home. Anything could happen to us on the road ahead. But I promise I will let you know the moment we are both about to die, because, Maria de Elizondo Garza, I will still be fighting to protect you as I take my very last breath.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Three days later

  Off the coast of France

  * * *

  The yacht, which was poetically named Night Wind, was well provisioned. After Maria and Lisandro had enjoyed a supper of French cheese and bread, the captain brought them a bottle of burgundy and two tankards.

  “The weather is fine tonight, so we could take these up on deck and enjoy watching the sun as it sets,” said Lisandro.

  Maria smiled. “Yes, that would be lovely.”

  She found herself smiling at him far too easily. Within the first day of their departure from England, they had settled into a comfortable, familiar routine.

  During the day, if the sun was shining, they would sit up on the weather deck, talking to various members of the crew and, when he was not busy, the ship’s captain. Maria still privately grinned at the memory of the man’s face blushing bright red when she made mention of the yacht’s usual purpose for sailing to the continent. Anyone would think the captain had been completely oblivious to the fact that Gus used his private vessel for smuggling contraband into England.

  Maria stopped as she reached the top of the ladder and took in a deep breath. The sea air was salty and invigorating.

  Being below was warmer, but it still made her uncomfortable. She doubted she would ever get used to the low roof and closed in space. Her tiny cabin was the worst.

  On the deck, Lisandro had a quick word with one of the yacht’s crew and they both grinned. He gave the man a friendly pat on the back. The sailor tipped his hat to Maria before moving away to carry on with his work.

  Lisandro was so easy with people of all rank. The cheerful way he dealt with the crew added to her already well-formed opinion that Lisandro de Aguirre was indeed a noble man. When the exact moment had occurred in which she stopped thinking of him as being a villain and came to view him as an honorable, decent person, Maria couldn’t recall. Every day she found herself liking him more and more.

  The gentle affection she felt for him was growing, blossoming into something else. She treasured these moments, not wanting to think about the time when this would all come to an end.

  A slightly sheepish Lisandro ushered her toward the rear of the yacht to the private spot which they had claimed over the past few days. It was behind several large crates and was one of the rare places on the deck where they could shelter out of the wind.

  His skillful fingers soon had the cork out the bottle, and with Maria taking up her assigned role of cup holder, Lisandro poured them both a generous amount of wine. Resting the bottle between his legs, he raised his drink to her. Maria followed suit.

  “A tu salud,” they said in unison.

  The first gulp of wine hit the back of her throat and she coughed. Lisandro reached out and rubbed his hand over her back.

  We are so comfortable with one another. Like peas in a pod.

  She didn’t want to consider what lay ahead for them in Spain, but she knew the time would soon come w
hen they would be forced to face the reality of their respective lives. Of the fact that Lisandro would eventually have to return her to her family.

  He frowned at her. “Why the long face?”

  She pointed her cup toward the land, which sat far off the portside. “France will eventually become Spain. This journey will soon be over. I am wondering what the coming days will bring.”

  He brushed his hand on her cheek. “Do not be afraid, Doña Maria. I have sworn to protect you and that is what I will do.”

  “Will you tell me of your plans? I mean for how we are to make it safely from Bilbao to Tolosa. It is a long way by road,” she replied.

  He took a sip of his wine and stared out to sea for a moment. Maria valued the fact that Lisandro often took the time to consider a response to a difficult question. He could be impetuous in the right moment but never flippant.

  “If we make it into port any later than first thing, I plan for us to stay overnight in an inn. I need to go and speak with the head priest at Santiago Cathedral. He may be able to shed some light on the people behind your kidnapping. Then, the following morning, I will hire a coach for us, and we can leave. It is not ideal, but I want to talk to the priest,” he replied.

  “Do you think people will be waiting for us in port? I mean, news of my escape will reach Spain eventually, but we must have some time on our side,” she replied.

  “Assuming there were other people involved in London, of which all our RR Coaching Company friends seemed certain, then we are probably at best a day or two ahead of anyone who might have in mind to sail after us to Spain. Where those people might make land is anyone’s guess. We will need to keep you hidden as best as possible.”

  She had asked him to be honest with her about the risks and dangers. Now, she wasn’t so sure she really wanted to know.

  I just wish I could close my eyes and when I opened them again, I would be back in Villabona and this would all have been a long nightmare. But that would mean never getting to know Lisandro. I couldn’t ever wish to lose those memories.

 

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