When he returned to her, Lisandro sat and took Maria in his arms. Using a pile of clean straw, she covered them to help keep warm. The barn was dry, and they were as comfortable as the circumstances would allow.
“We should try and get some sleep. I know the weather is bleak, but I want us to be on the road at first light,” he said.
She looked at him and smiled. “How far is it from here to Tolosa?”
“Somewhere around twenty-eight miles. The horses are both in good health and are capable of doing it. I know it will mean another long day in the saddle, but the sooner I can see the tower of my home, the better. I have men who can take up arms if required,” he replied.
Despite Lisandro’s suggestion, Maria didn’t want to sleep. Not just yet. The mention of his family home provided the perfect opportunity to engage him in conversation.
“Tell me about your home. I mean, what it means to you,” she said. She didn’t need him to describe the place; she would see it for herself soon enough. What Maria wanted to know was how it had helped to form the sort of man that Lisandro was—someone who looked beyond his estate to the rest of Spain.
Lisandro lifted the glass of the lamp and blew out the candle. They were plunged into darkness. The only source of light were the occasional flashes of far-off lightning as the thunderstorm moved away.
“I expect it is similar to yours in many respects. Crops, beans growing on hillside trellises. I have a small amount of wine grapes growing on the southern side of the estate. I intend to add some more sheep in the next year and go back to making cheese.”
A warm kiss touched her forehead and she sighed. “Go on.”
“My home is the reason why I got involved with the English during the war against France. I wanted Spain to be free of Napoleon, to be able to make its own decisions regarding the future,” he added.
Those were much the same words her father had said during the dark days of King Ferdinand’s exile in France. That a free Spain was what all of them wanted.
“But having the king once more on the throne is not going to achieve that. He has gone back on his word. The ordinary Spaniard has been left without hope or rights,” she said.
Her words were dangerous—some would say seditious. Traitorous. His silence was just as worrying. Had she just said something which could get her into further trouble?
You know men don’t like to hear women discuss politics.
“You should be careful about what you say, Maria. Ferdinand has already had many people arrested this year—writers and newspaper editors. He intends to crush any sort of opposition to his claim to absolute rule,” he replied.
“So, you would wish your future wife, whoever she is, to be silent when it comes to these sorts of matters?” she said.
In the inky night, it was impossible to read his face. His hand took hold of hers and soon soft kisses touched the palm of her hand. “No. But I would expect that she used careful judgment when it came to be expressing her opinions and with whom. There are dark days ahead for Spain. King Ferdinand is a capricious and vengeful man. There are courtiers who would seek to win his favor by telling him the names of those whispering words against him.”
“You were one of the people who helped bring him back to Spain. My father also,” she replied.
The reality of their situation set her mind on edge. Her father, too, had worked to restore the king to power, but now he was out of favor.
Spain was changing, and she feared it was not for the better. What if she had given her heart to a man who fought to maintain the status quo when all the world around them was shifting?
“I did what I did because I am a loyal Spaniard. But since his return, Ferdinand has proven himself unworthy of being king. I would suggest your father has come to the same conclusion. All I ask of you is that if we discuss these sorts of matters that it is done in the privacy of our home, and even then, not in front of the servants,” he replied.
She caught the warning in his voice. Who was to say that one of Lisandro’s trusted household members wouldn’t turn against him in the same way as they suspected Señor Perez had done with her father?
Lisandro would be branded a traitor and publicly denounced. She couldn’t bear the thought of him being taken away to Madrid and having to face the royal inquisitors.
“Agreed. We will only talk about this when we are alone,” she said.
He was a part of her life, and she would do anything to keep him safe. Maria rolled over and placed a tender kiss on Lisandro’s lips, then whispered, “I trust you to do what is right for this country, and I will always stand beside you. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
The first glimpse of Castle Tolosa’s tallest tower had Lisandro reining in his horse. He let out a heavy sigh. He was almost home.
Relief coursed through him. Just a mile or so more and they would have made it. The long weeks since he had set out for Zarautz seemed an eternity ago.
The gentle clip of horse’s hooves on the dry, hard road had him turning as Maria pulled her mount up alongside his. She held a hand to her face, shielding her eyes from the dying rays of the setting sun.
“Is that it?”
Suddenly caught up with emotion, Lisandro could only nod in response. He had been on edge for so many days that the tide of utter relief threatened to overwhelm him.
She leaned over and patted him on the knee. “You did it. I am so proud of you—and so very grateful.”
He swallowed the large lump in his throat. “We did it. You. Me. And those rogue friends of mine in England. Everyone played their part.”
With a touch of his heels, he urged his horse on. One of the first things he would do once he got home would be to instruct the master of his stables to ensure that his and Maria’s horses were given a full rubdown and housed in the very best stalls with plenty of hay. A fresh apple or two was also on the list.
As they rode slowly through the gate which led into the Aguirre estate, Lisandro stopped and pointed to the town of Tolosa, which was nestled at the bottom of the nearby valley some six miles away. Castle Tolosa itself was situated at the top of a mountain near to the village of Bidania.
Maria clapped her hands together. “And there is the Oria! Oh, Lisandro, I feared that I may never see it again.”
The dark waters of the Oria, which flowed through both Tolosa and Villabona on its way to the Bay of Biscay, cut through the countryside like a winding ribbon. It shone brightly in the final light of the day.
When things were settled and safe, he would take Maria to Tolosa and introduce her to his friends and family. He also had in mind to pay a visit with her to the church of Saint Mary and give prayers of thanks for their safe return. While they were there, he intended to have a quiet word with the priest about arranging a wedding, one which would bind the Aguirre and Elizondo families together forever.
But that was for the future. There were still many obstacles in their way. Apart from the as yet unidentified kidnappers, there was also the not so insignificant issue of the Duke of Villabona. Lisandro could just imagine how his first conversation with Maria’s father might go.
Don de Elizondo, I rescued your daughter. Oh, and I fell in love with her, and I am going to make her my wife. What was that about an old feud?
They continued on toward the castle proper and passed under the enormous wrought-iron gate. He grinned as Maria glanced up at the heavy barrier which hung overhead.
“Don’t worry. The chains that hold it are strong,” he said.
Men and women flooded out from the main castle and surrounding buildings. By the time Lisandro and Maria had finally reached the front door, almost one hundred people were following in their wake. But he only had his sights set on one person—the woman dressed in black standing on the front steps.
His mother.
After throwing a leg over the saddle, Lisandro dropped to the ground. He glanced at Maria, intending to help her down
, but she shooed him away.
“Go and see the duchess. Don’t you get me into trouble with my future mother-in-law before I have even had the chance to meet her,” she said.
He knew better than to question Maria in front of the all too observant servants. They were all standing wide-eyed, staring at her. As he made his way toward his mother, the whispers began.
“Who is she?”
“She looks like the daughter of the Duke of Villabona, but that’s impossible.”
“Could it be her?”
“Whatever could it mean?”
Lisandro smiled and kept walking.
It means a wedding, and an end to a long-running and pointless feud.
Lisandro’s mother fussed over Maria just as her own mother would no doubt do, once she returned home. Within an hour of her arrival at Castle Tolosa, Maria had been bathed, her hair had been washed in goat’s milk soap, and she was wearing a new gown.
“It might not be the latest of fashions, but my daughter left it here when she visited from Madrid in the summer. I would like you to have it,” said the dowager duchess, standing behind her and offering up a warm smile.
Maria considered herself in the mirror. The pale gold, and cream gown was exquisite. It laced up at the back in a way she had not seen before. If the gown came from Madrid, there was every chance that such styling would not reach this corner of Spain for at least another season.
“I couldn’t possibly keep it,” she replied.
The duchess placed a gentle hand on Maria’s arm. “I insist.”
The generosity shown to her by the matriarch of the Aguirre family humbled her. These people weren’t the evil enemy, as she had been led to believe. Instead, the similarity between her family and this one was quite striking.
“You spoil me, Doña Elena,” she replied.
“You are a guest in my home. It is only right and proper that I take care of you. Especially after all that my son tells me you have been through.”
She patted Maria’s arm. “I shall leave you for a moment’s peace. The evening meal will be served shortly out on the terrace.”
After Doña Elena had left the room, Maria spent a few minutes alone giving silent thanks to God that she had been saved. Tonight, she would sleep restfully under the roof of the Duke of Tolosa—the man who had risked his life to come to England and bring her safely back to Spain.
With her clothes and hair now perfect, Maria wandered out onto the terrace. The sun had gone down. What appeared to be a thousand tiny torches were dotted around the three walls which enclosed part of the space. The only side of the terrace not walled in showcased a darkened field. Maria could just make out the rows of grape vines in the subdued light.
Her gaze caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. A tall, dark-haired man approached. She swallowed deep at the sight which held her spellbound.
Lisandro.
She had never seen him dressed in such splendor. Even her vague memories of the ball in Zarautz couldn’t compare to the elegance of him tonight. His long hair had been washed and brushed back, held in place with a strip of black velvet.
His pure black evening jacket was perfectly offset with buckskin trousers and a white linen shirt. The gold of his vest serendipitously matched her gown. She stifled a grin, remembering that neither of them believed in coincidences.
I wonder who planned that?
She beamed with joy as Lisandro bowed low. “Doña Maria, you are truly dazzling in that gown.”
“You scrub up well yourself. For a moment there I wasn’t sure it was you,” she replied.
He offered her his arm, and they strolled out to the edge of the stone paving. Maria pointed at the nearby vines. “What sort of grapes do you grow here?”
“Syrah. They are a dark red, quite strong in flavor. It’s an unusual grape for this region, but I have a palate which likes a full-bodied wine. Some of our local Malaga and Sherry is not to my taste,” he replied.
Maria checked behind her, making certain they were alone. She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you since we arrived. I forgot how things would be once we were back in society,” she said.
He chuckled. “And here was me thinking you were interested in the wine. You are a naughty girl. Come here.”
Lisandro pulled her to him and took her mouth in a scorching kiss. His lips moved over hers with comfortable familiarity. She groaned when their tongues met and tangled.
Someone loudly cleared their throat. The kiss came to an abrupt end. An embarrassed Maria turned her face away.
It’s no longer just the two of you. You can’t be careless in front of others.
“Good evening, Mamá. I am pleased you could join us.” Lisandro greeted his mother.
The dowager duchess snorted. “I doubt that very much. Or, should I say, you might have been happier if I had left it a few minutes longer to make my arrival.”
Maria didn’t know what to do with herself. The temptation to run off into the dark and hide in the vineyard was strong. Stepping away from Lisandro, she put space between them.
This was the first time anyone else had been made aware of the romantic relationship connecting her and Lisandro. And while it was inevitable that they would eventually have to reveal their love, this was most certainly not the way she wished her future mother-in-law to find out.
A look passed from mother to son, and it was clear in its meaning. Are you sure?
“I intend to make Maria my duchess,” he said.
From the first night she and Lisandro shared a room alone at the RR Coaching Company offices in London, this had always been her fate. As an unwed woman of high, noble birth, there couldn’t be any other outcome. It didn’t matter if nothing had transpired between them; to save Maria’s honor, marriage was the only possible solution.
She’d known this—but hearing those words made it feel real. He would be hers. Nothing could stop their union. Love and destiny had worked hand in hand to bring them to this day.
Doña Elena came to Maria and took hold of her hand. There was the hint of a tentative smile on her face. “My son is a good man, and he will marry you because Spanish society and the church will expect it of him. But I want to know the truth of your heart in this matter. Do you care for Lisandro?” she said.
“Yes. I love him,” Maria replied.
There was no hesitation in her response. That night on the road, at Stephen’s house, she knew Lisandro held her heart. Every day since, her love for him had grown stronger.
“I am glad, but it doesn’t address the problem of Don de Elizondo and what he wants. We all know that if he is against the marriage, his decision will be the one which counts,” said Elena.
Maria turned her gaze to Lisandro. “If we decide to marry and my father does not support the union, then we will just have to trust that the church will.”
Going against her family and marrying Lisandro would be something of a last resort, but she wanted to be clear about her decision. If the Duke of Tolosa wished for her to be his wife, she was willing, family feud withstanding or not.
Lisandro held out his hand to her, and she shyly came back to him. She could only pray that her father would see the sense in all this and finally put an end to the enmity between their clans.
“Do not fret over the future, Maria. All will be well—I promise. We are both tired after such a long journey. So, tonight, let us eat, drink, and enjoy good company. Tomorrow will see a fresh morning and the path ahead.”
“But what of my family? You promised to send word,” she replied.
“I sent a message to Castle Villabona not long after we arrived. Diego knows that you are safe and back in Spain, though I did tell him we are somewhere on the road from Bilbao. I dared not risk anyone knowing you are here. We still don’t know who can be trusted among your family’s servants and friends.”
Lying to her family did not sit well with Maria, nor was she happy about being kept in the dark about
it. A private conversation with Lisandro was in her plans for the latter part of the evening. She might well be in love with him, but Maria had been raised to have opinions of her own, and she would not stand idly by while Lisandro went ahead and made all the decisions in their lives.
Tonight, would be one for sharing honesty and agreeing to the terms of their future marriage. She had a horrible suspicion Lisandro might not like all that she was going to demand of him.
When Elena left the terrace several hours later, Maria and Lisandro shared a few quiet minutes. The evening had gone well. By the time the dowager duchess bade them both a fond goodnight, Maria was greatly relieved to know that she had the blessing of this woman.
Lisandro picked up his wine glass and emptied the last of it. He sat back in his chair and stared out into the night. A penny for your thoughts, Don de Aguirre.
He rose from his chair and came around to where she sat. Maria accepted his offered hand and got to her feet. She melted into his embrace as Lisandro wrapped his arms around her.
“You must be tired, my love,” he said.
She lifted her gaze and smiled up at him. “A little, but I am more in the mood for a private conversation with you. If you are willing.”
He narrowed his eyes. “And where would you wish to have this discussion? Out here on the terrace or . . .”
“You did promise to show me your giant bed,” she said.
When the lines of worry between his eyes grew deeper, Maria softly chortled. Placing a hand on his waistcoat, she toyed with the buttons. One popped open and she slipped a finger inside. The fine, thin linen of his shirt barely created a layer between the skin of her hand and the hairs on his chest. A second finger joined the first and she rubbed them back and forth. “Take me to your room.”
Lisandro didn’t protest.
Chapter Twenty-Four
This wasn’t how he had envisioned his night ending. Lisandro’s plans had included a pleasant evening with Maria and Elena on the terrace, then a solid night’s sleep in his own king-sized bed. He yearned to slip beneath the sheets and lay his head on the soft pillow. Sleep had almost become a stranger to him.
Devoted to the Spanish Duke Page 12
