Devoted to the Spanish Duke

by Sasha Cottman

  “When we were on the yacht, we talked a little about the political situation here and of your father. What we didn’t discuss in much detail was my own story. I need you to understand that while I helped bring King Ferdinand back to Spain and for him to retake the throne, I am now finding it difficult to support his reign. What he is doing to those who seek to speak freely goes against my values as a loyal Spanish patriot,” he said. There would never be a time when Maria wasn’t her father’s daughter, but she had committed herself to him. She had to reconcile any differences that may exist between the two men in her life.

  “And you know that my father has fallen from grace. The fact that the Elizondo family did not warrant an invitation to the royal wedding in Madrid should be enough for you to know that the king has turned his back on us,” she replied.

  “Ferdinand is a man capable of holding a grudge, but he may smile upon your father once more. Who knows?”

  Maria met his gaze. “I think things may be irreparably broken between them. Papá spoke out against some of the arrests which happened recently. When he tried to raise the issue of restoring some of the powers of the constitution, King Ferdinand threw both his shoes at my father and told him never to come back to the royal palace.”

  Lisandro had heard rumors of the shoe-throwing incident but had put it down to an exaggerated tale. Now, he was worried. Throwing shoes was a grave sign of insult.

  A chill ran down his spine. Had the plan ever been to accept the ransom money and release her?

  Nausea threatened. What if he had not gone to the tavern that night? If he had missed the Englishman and then not found the note? So many things could have gone wrong and Maria may never have been found.

  “Lisandro?”

  He clenched his hands into tight fists. The notion that he might had missed knowing her or winning her love threatened to overwhelm him with despair. This woman had always been his destiny.

  “I love you. No matter what happens today, you must know that you will hold my heart always.” Lisandro pulled Maria to him and held her tight.

  She put her arms around him and nestled her head against his chest. “I love you too. And because of our love, I know we shall succeed.”

  They held one another for a time, neither speaking. Lisandro went through the plan in his head, refusing to consider the hundred or so ways it could go wrong. Of what today might cost them.

  We will not fail. Today, the good and righteous will win.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Maria managed to hold her nerve steady for the rest of the morning and the short ride to the convent of Saint Casilda. To say that the abbess was surprised to see the Duke of Tolosa and the daughter of the Duke of Villabona on her doorstep would have been an understatement.

  “I will ride on to your home and present myself to your father. If things go well, I shall return here later this afternoon. If there is any problem, I will try to send word,” he said.

  She wiped away tears, determined not to break down. “Diego will not fail us.”

  “I hope so. Our lives may depend on it.”

  The response of her brother to Lisandro’s secret missive the previous night would be crucial in this final stage of the rescue. Things were already set in motion, and Maria could only pray that Diego would come to their meeting point well prepared for any trouble.

  Lisandro patted the side of his coat. Under it was a loaded pistol; the matching one was strapped to his leg. She had sat on the giant bed in Lisandro’s room and observed him dressing. Apart from the pistols, there were three small knives hidden about his clothing. The only obvious weapon was his ceremonial sword which hung from the belt around his waist. If anyone tried to disarm Lisandro, they were going to be in for the fight of their lives.

  She wanted to be there, standing alongside him when he met with her father, but she understood the best place for her was somewhere where she could be protected. If things went according to plan, and the villains who had sought to harm her were unmasked, there would come a time when she could seek justice.

  Lisandro walked over to his horse, and Maria followed him. They embraced one last time and he gifted her with a tender kiss.

  She stared into his brown eyes, praying that it would not be for the last time. “You come back to me, Lisandro de Aguirre. I am not finished with you.”

  “I promise I will. We have a wedding to plan and a life to live together.”

  He mounted his horse and turned its head toward the front gate of the convent. With a ‘ya,’ he dug in his heels and the horse quickly rode away.

  Maria prayed she would see him again.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Lisandro didn’t look back as he rode out of the gate of the convent. As he’d turned away, he’d caught a glimpse of tears shining in Maria’s eyes and he was determined that if things did go awry, his last memory of her would not be one of sadness.

  Today I will claim what is mine, and those who have sought to harm Maria shall pay.

  It was a little more than two miles from the village of Irura to Castle Villabona. At a gallop, his horse could travel the winding mountain pass in less than fifteen minutes. But once he reached the main road, Lisandro drew back on the reins and slowed his mount. His gaze searched the snaking track ahead.

  Trees dotted the steep hillside to his left, while on the other side of the road, the lush, green grassland fell away until it reached the valley floor. Lisandro knew this mountain path well.

  Where are you?

  He urged his mount on again. Rounding a bend, he caught sight of a group of men riding toward him. He held his breath.

  As they drew near, the hooded man at the head of the group raised his hand. By the time the two parties met one another, they were at a walk.

  “The Englishman was spotted in the village this morning, and Perez met with him. He is still playing the innocent, of course, but after your note was received last night, the scales finally fell from my father’s eyes, mine too,” said Diego.

  He and Maria had left Bilbao only just in time.

  Thank God I saw him outside the cathedral. He must have had spies watching the city gates.

  The fateful storm had probably saved their lives, with Wicker not being able to catch up with them in the furious raining maelstrom.

  “Good, so Antonio knows not to trust Perez. Maria is at the convent of Saint Casilda, in Irura. If they come for her, don’t hesitate to shoot,” he replied.

  Diego nodded and continued on, his heavily armed troops following. The chink of metal swords accompanying the sound of hooves on the road. Lisandro let out a slow breath of relief. Maria would be safe.

  Now it was up to him to entice a rat out of its hole.

  Castle Villabona loomed large in front of him as Lisandro reached the top of the small hill. It wasn’t as grand a construction as his own home, which gave him cause for a secret smile.

  At the entrance to the castle, he surrendered to the armed guards and was taken into custody. His pistols, sword, and most of his knives were seized. The knife he had strapped to his back remained successfully hidden.

  He was escorted at gunpoint into the grand reception room of Castle Villabona. The Duke of Villabona rose from his chair.

  Lisandro dipped into a low, respectful bow. “Don de Elizondo.”

  Coming back to an upright position, his gaze fell on the man standing to the right of Maria’s father—a well-dressed gentleman whom he immediately assumed was the duplicitous Señor Perez.

  El canalla.

  With his head of gray hair, Señor Perez even looked somewhat like a rat. When he narrowed his eyes at Lisandro, he knew he had his attention.

  His self-confident poise gave Lisandro a moment of clarity. The arrogant way he held himself suggested that he was someone more than capable of organizing and masterminding something as evil as the abduction of his master’s daughter.

  Lisandro could just imagine what was going on in that cunning, calculating brain. Pere
z was likely wondering how he could turn this unexpected encounter to his advantage.

  “Why is the enemy of my family standing in my home?” demanded Antonio de Elizondo.

  Lisandro met his gaze and coolly replied, “I have your daughter, and I want you to pay me a ransom before I consider whether I should hand her back.”

  There were gasps of shock and horror from several of the people gathered in the room. Maria’s father, however, remained stony-faced.

  “This is an outrage!” bellowed Perez.

  “Call it what you will. I want one hundred thousand pesos, or I will keep her,” replied Lisandro. He wasn’t going to ask for the same as the kidnappers had, fearing it would trigger too many questions in Perez’s mind.

  The Duke of Villabona angrily strode over to where Lisandro stood and glared at him. “And just what will you do to my daughter if I don’t pay the ransom?”

  Lisandro stifled a grin. Maria had come up with a surprising number of sexual things he could offer to do to her when they’d discussed what he should say at this moment, but he wisely kept them to himself.

  “I haven’t yet decided. Ruining her sounds like a good start. No one, least of all Count Juan Delgado Grandes, will want to touch her after I have had my way. She’ll be tainted. Soiled. Call it whatever you like,” he replied. He coolly met Antonio de Elizondo’s gaze. “Perhaps I could even put my bastard in her belly.”

  The duke’s face twisted into a look of pure rage. His cheeks turned a deep crimson. He shook his fist at Lisandro. “God will strike you down for this, Don de Aguirre. The gates of hell will welcome you to their fiery pit.”

  “Pay the ransom or let me leave. My men have instructions to kill Maria if I am not returned by nightfall,” he replied.

  Señor Perez stepped forward and leaned in to speak to the duke. “Let me have him in the dungeons for an hour, Don de Elizondo. I will get all the information we need to rescue Doña Maria. I swear on my life I will not rest until she is safely home.”

  Lisandro looked him up and down with undisguised disdain. Just a little more, you, filthy traitor. Step farther into the trap.

  “Seize him. Take him to the cells and make him talk. Torture him if you must,” said the duke.

  Guards came and roughly took hold of Lisandro. He was dragged from the room and thrown into the dungeons. The solid, iron door was slammed shut behind him.

  With his back against the ragged brick wall of the cell, he stared at the door and waited. “Come on, Señor Perez,” he whispered.

  The trap was set. Now all that remained was for his prey to take a nibble of one last morsel of tasty cheese and it would slam shut.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Señor Perez did not fail him. Within minutes the cell door opened, and the family servant appeared. Lisandro was not surprised when the man immediately dismissed the two guards who had accompanied him.

  “I shall get all that I need out of Don de Aguirre. By the time I am finished with him he will be begging to offer up anything I ask,” he said.

  The two men nodded and headed back up the stone stairs, the door slamming shut behind them.

  “Who are you?” asked Lisandro.

  Señor Perez straightened his back and puffed out his chest. Here we go—the display of self-importance. The establishing of just who is in charge.

  This wasn’t Lisandro’s first time in a prison cell—nor was it his first time being interrogated. Sir Stephen Moore had spent many hours during the war teaching Lisandro how to deal with being questioned.

  “I am Señor Perez. I have loyally served the Elizondo family for thirty years. That is all you need to know, Don de Aguirre,” he replied.

  This was the perfect opening for Lisandro. If his suspicions were correct, the lure of money and power over the Elizondo family would be too great for Perez to resist.

  “Pity. Because if I can get the ransom out of Don de Elizondo, I will be in a position to buy myself some new friends. Friends who could help support the king. And we all know that King Ferdinand likes to reward loyalty.”

  Perez opened his eyes wide. A look of uncertainty appeared on his face, which greatly pleased Lisandro. It was clear that whatever he had been expecting to hear from his prisoner, it most certainly was not an offer to betray his employer.

  Lisandro waited patiently. He knew how the mind of a calculating, self-serving traitor worked. He had met enough of those sorts of men during the war.

  “Are you trying to tell me that the Duke of Villabona is not loyal to the crown?” said Perez finally.

  A half-shrug was Lisandro’s response. He was treading carefully, drawing the man in. “I think we both know that Don de Elizondo has fallen from His Majesty’s favor. King Ferdinand is not one for directly punishing people; he prefers more subtle ways. At the same time, he is quietly elevating others to positions of power and influence. And there is always room for men prepared to do the unpleasant work required by the crown.”

  I don’t think I can be more obvious, so for heaven’s sake, take the bait.

  Señor Perez paced the floor. When he returned to Lisandro, he was slowly raking his fingers through his salt and pepper beard. “What are you offering?”

  In his mind, Lisandro could see the edges of the trap. He was sure if he just stretched out his hand, he would be able to touch them.

  “Money enough to buy yourself a villa in Madrid and some nice clothes to wear at the royal court. But more importantly, I can arrange a role for you with people close to His Majesty. You would be a man of power and influence. Help me out of here and I can give it all to you.” Lisandro scowled and pointed a lazy finger in Señor Perez’s direction. “Or have I read you wrong, and you are content to be merely the servant of a nobleman for the rest of your days?”

  A sly grin appeared on Perez’s lips. From his coat pocket, he withdrew a knife. He held it in front of Lisandro. “It’s a tempting offer, but what I really want is for you to tell me where Maria de Elizondo is being held. I know you wouldn’t be so foolish as to leave her at your home. Once I have her and the second ransom, I can leave you to rot here.”

  Lisandro chuckled. “You are exactly the sort of man the king needs in order to control his enemies—cold and ruthless. Maria is at the convent of Saint Casilda in Irura. You should hurry if you plan to snatch her away. Oh, and if you can get the money out of Antonio de Elizondo, you are welcome to it. Ferdinand will reward me with much more than just money once I bring his enemies down.”

  Perez hesitated for a moment. “What do mean?”

  Lisandro gave him a slow smile as victory beckoned. “You didn’t seriously think you were the only one making moves against Don de Elizondo, did you? He won’t dare lay a hand on me once I tell him that I report directly to the king. In fact, he will beg to release me.”

  He casually moved his hand to his back and scratched it. Perez’s gaze followed but did not linger. He didn’t see Lisandro dropping the handle of his knife into his hand. If his jailer intended to stab him, he was ready.

  “How well you come out of this is entirely up to you,” replied Lisandro.

  “Guards. Open this door!” cried Perez.

  Señor Perez moved quickly outside, and the clang of the bolt being thrown back into place soon echoed in the cell.

  The first phase of Lisandro’s plan was now complete. Diego and his men would now have to play their part.

  He placed his hands together and with head bowed, began to pray to the Virgin Mary. “Ave María llena eres de gracia.”

  Please keep Maria safe.

  Chapter Thirty

  The first of his prayers were answered a short while later. The door of his prison cell opened and through it stepped the Duke of Villabona.

  “Perez rode out from the castle not ten minutes ago. The guards informed me that he turned left and headed toward the village. I am assuming he has gone to see the Englishman.”

  Lisandro nodded. “I told him where Maria was. I also passed your son o
n the road here, so he and his men should be ready for them when they reach the convent.”

  The duke sighed. Deep worry lines etched his face.

  It was odd to feel pity for a man he was supposed to hate, but Lisandro did. He could well understand why Maria’s father looked aged and broken. His only daughter had been missing for near on two months and last night would have been the first time he had been given any real hope that she was even still alive.

  “Am I still your prisoner, Don de Elizondo?” he asked.

  “No. From what Diego has told me, you might well be my savior. Come, let us go upstairs and wait. If Perez is true to form, he won’t waste a minute sending Wicker after Maria.”

  The clop of horses’ hooves on the stone flagging of the convent’s central courtyard had Maria racing to the upstairs window. She peered out from behind a curtain. A half dozen men, all mounted on Andalusian grays, were gathering below.

  She bit on her lower lip as fear coursed through her veins. From their cloaks and the markings on the saddles, she could tell they were her father’s men. Her mind whirled with a thousand worries. What if Diego had not been able to leave the castle early this afternoon without raising the suspicions of Señor Perez? Had these men been sent by the traitor, and was she about to be stolen away again?

  “Lisandro,” she whispered.

  The leader of the group dismounted and was met by the convent’s abbess. She turned and pointed toward the window where Maria stood.

  As the hood of his cloak fell back, she caught sight of her brother. He waved at her.

  Diego.

  Maria tightened her grip on the curtains, fearing she might faint. He was here. The plan was working. Lisandro would come back to her.

  Within minutes, Diego had raced upstairs and into the room. He threw his arms around her and lifted her high. “Oh, thank you, sweet lord. Oh, Maria, I feared I may never see you again.”