by Eliza Lloyd
She cried, pressing her face into Shelene’s neck. “I was so frightened.”
“I know. Let’s eat some food, fill our stomachs then enjoy the heat of a bath and get rid of this awful dust. And then sleep in peace, knowing today you earned a star in your crown.”
Within a few minutes, Shelene was able to laugh, not celebrating exactly, but joyous nonetheless. She shared some of the delicious fare before she retired to her room. Antonio had already been bathed and was fast asleep. She opened the double doors, listening for Roman’s return.
For years, she’d fussed about having a duenna. Tonight, Martina bustled about the room, attending to every one of Shelene’s whims. Towels, robes, soaps, slippers. Hot tea and a small tray of light food. More water heating at the fireplace. Martina helped remove her boots, collected her dirty trousers and shirt and undergarments.
“Thank you, Martina. You’ve been a great help.” She bathed, sinking into the heated water and scrubbing her skin raw. Then she exhaled the deep breath she had been holding, leaned her head against the tub rim and thought about the day.
All the things she had believed about Roman were small and insulting compared to the larger-than-life man he was. How petty and whiny she must have seemed. How insignificant her concerns were compared to the grand service he performed for his country. Who knows how many times he’d put his life in jeopardy in other skirmishes just like he had done today? And who was there to thank him, or appreciate him, or care that he was willing to die for what he believed in?
And more so his family.
But for all that, she wasn’t fooled about why he’d allowed her to go along. She wouldn’t make that mistake a second time—it was imprudent and emotional to endanger herself and irresponsible to add an additional burden to Roman’s rescue efforts.
She dressed in her night clothes, then checked on Antonio again. He was unscathed from the day’s adventures, sleeping soundly, his fist to his mouth. Durra normally watched him overnight, but tonight it was another of Sakina’s granddaughters. She sat in the rocking chair, ready to answer any of Antonio’s calls.
“Is he restless at all?”
“No, Señora. He seems content.”
Back in her room, she glanced out the doors, anxious for Roman’s return. But she couldn’t keep her eyes open another moment and crawled into bed. She was somewhere in a dreamlike state, watching as Roman moved silently about the room. She called to him.
“Stay in bed, Shelene. Sleep.”
She threw her covers back. He stood in the double doors, wearing only his trousers. He held a drink. She wrapped her arms about his waist, and he slid his arm around her shoulders pulling her close. “Mmm” was all she could say. She hugged him tighter.
“Señor Navarro was there, and two of Pedro Jiminez’s sons. We buried about twenty of them, including your uncle. The others were taken back to Madrid along with the wagons and ammunition.”
“Raúl? He seemed like such a good man.”
“Until Belgrano whispered in his ear.”
“What happens now?” she asked.
“Do you want to go back to England? You and Antonio would be safe there with me. We could purchase a home near Long Leaf. We could stay with Adam and Eloisa until then.”
She didn’t answer. How could she?
“I had to ask, Shelene. You want to stay in Spain, of course.”
“Yes.”
“More danger is likely to arrive at our doorstep. There is trouble brewing in every quarter. The king is barely holding on to power and who knows when another Napoleon will arise from outside Spain’s border?”
“It is home. You are here. And if there is anyone who can keep trouble away, it is you. I trust you, Roman.”
She felt the tangent relief in his body. “We’ll need to protect the valley, and our neighbors when possible. More men, horses and weapons will need to be purchased. I know where we can get some help.”
“It’s not going to happen tomorrow. We’ll be fine for now. We will hear about trouble before it comes to us. Antonio might be a young man before anything serious happens, but this is Spain and her peoples are intractable, at times.”
“Like my wife.”
“Yes.”
“Shelene, please don’t ever ask me to take you with me on another foray like today. I love my son. And it is hard to say this, but I also love the woman who can give me more sons. I’ve seen a lot of death in my years, but there are people I cannot lose, and you are one of them.”
“But you proved your point. Every time you left me behind in the past, it felt like some nebulous, unimportant jaunt to me, and I never understood how you could just leave me. You won’t have to explain again, but if it is necessary, I will go. I will be beside you if I feel I am needed to protect you or my sons. I pray it won’t happen again, but it might.”
“My God! To think you or Antonio could have been harmed today.”
“It wasn’t your fault, Roman. I knew my uncle had his delusions, I just never believed he would harm us. It was a harsh lesson, but well learned.” She glanced up at him. “Come to bed. We can relive today over and over during the next six months and never find exactly where we went wrong.”
He cupped her face. He pressed his lips to hers. “I love you. I love Antonio. Just as I fought for England, I will fight for Spain. This is my home. You are my home.”
The next morning and for the following week, there was an air of jubilance around the house. Of course because Antonio and Durra were safe and in their rightful place, but dare she say, also because Uncle Francisco was gone?
Shelene had begged Roman to continue with plans for the party. Had he said no, she was going to anyway. At breakfast one morning, Commodore Hightower said, “After the grand party, I insist that you and Antonio move to your husband’s home on the hill. There’s no reason to continue all of this confusion and co-mingled households.”
“What? Papa, how could you say such a thing?”
Roman stuffed his mouth with potatoes and eggs so he couldn’t immediately add to the conversation.
“It’s simple. I want some peace and quiet.”
“Hmm,” she said, examining her father’s face for a tell. “What is the real reason for this change of heart? I thought you enjoyed spending time with your grandson.”
“I do.”
“Are you the king of the valley now? Issuing decrees that must be obeyed by all?”
“It’s not a bad idea,” her father said with a smile.
“Or is it because Roman made you say it?”
“Don’t blame me,” Roman said. “This is the first I’ve heard of it, though I can’t say I disagree.”
Tía Ana-María entered the room, carrying a pot of coffee and poured for her father. Her hand slid across Papa’s back in a rather forward motion. Her father glanced up at her adoringly.
“Oh my God! You can’t be serious? You two?” Shelene said.
Her father hmpfed. “And why not. I am not so old. And frankly, there is no reason the two of us should be alone. This is Ana-María’s home as much as it is yours or mine. Roman went to all the trouble to find a place for you that was near me and your mother, spent extravagantly to build you the most fashionable home in Andalucía and now the time is ripe when you can spend your lives together.”
Tears streamed down her face in a sudden downpour. It wasn’t that she was unhappy.
“Be glad for us, Shelene. I am home to stay. You don’t want your dear old Papa interfering in your life now that you are the matriarch of your own family. I too want a life with your aunt.”
She pressed her linen napkin to her face and wiped at her tears. “It feels like I am losing you all over again.”
When she was able to breathe again, she smiled at her aunt and her father and wished them well. Roman stayed at the table after they departed, placing his hand over hers. “Antonio will inherit Las Colinas one of these days,” he said. “We only need to keep providing heirs and we can fill the valley.”
&
nbsp; “No, one of our daughters will. Antonio can inherit the new home. And I promise that if something happens to you, I won’t start batting my eyelashes at one of your brothers,” she said.
He laughed. “I hope none of my brothers are so stupid to think I would conveniently die so they could have you. Oliver doesn’t seem to think there is another woman in the world aside from Mrs. Spencer.”
“Oh, do you think so? You’ve spent more time with them. I wondered if you noticed. I want him to be happy though.”
“Then be happy for your father as well.”
“Everyone is so logical, while I am so emotional. I thought I could see reason in every situation.”
He brushed his hand up her thigh. “I want you to be wildly jealous, overprotective and unreasonably in love with me for the rest of your life. Be emotional; I don’t mind.”
“Roman, how did we find each other? And how did we not lose each other for all these years? I knew you loved me once—”
He put a finger to her lips. “And when I love once, I love for all eternity.”
* * * * *
Shelene had placed the last piece of stained glass in the frame three days ago, giving it time to cure before she delivered the piece. While that made her happy, she was not so anxious to see Father Etienne when she handed over the completed window.
“Are you ready?” Roman asked. He was dressed in a fine new set of clothes—tan trousers, a tan jacket with brass buttons along with a crisp white shirt. Instead of a cravat, he had a silk maroon cloth with tiny tan nubs wrapped in a simple Gordian knot at his neck. She could smell the soap he’d used to bathe and noticed the strands of wet hair.
Seeing him so polished and refined, so alive… She still had to blink back the emotional tears brought on by his reappearance in her life. “I can go myself, though it is kind of you to offer your assistance.”
“It’s no trouble. The cabriolet is ready.”
“Let me finish wrapping it. How horrible to have it break on the way to the church.”
Roman took her hand and squeezed. “I know it was a labor of love to complete the stained glass.”
She sighed. “And it’s a real labor to return it to Father Etienne.”
“That is why I am going with you.”
“But that will only delay your trip to Cadiz. Señor Madrigalas won’t wait forever and who knows how many horse buyers might be looking for prime stock and snatch them away?”
“He’s bringing the horses here. I’ve decided to buy all of them.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“We’ve been busy. They’ll be here sometime today.”
“Sight unseen?”
“He has unusually refined tastes in horses, and I trust him. How could I not when I’m paying a fortune for what I am certain will be the best of the best?”
“It is a good thing your wife is more frugal with her fortune than you are with yours.”
“In a few years, we will seed a dynasty to eclipse anything we could have as individuals.”
“The Forrester Arabians? The Hightower Andalucíans?”
“Why not? Now that I am home to stay, I’ll need something to keep my attention.” He lifted the heavy window, leading the way outside. “I am guessing you would rather have me busy in the stables than keeping you busy with a dozen children.”
“Maybe a few more. In time,” she said. Tradition dictated that she bear a passel of children, but she thought she could manage a more suitable family size without the church invoking the Inquisition once again.
Joaquin was waiting outside, sitting on the hitching fence, hat in hand. “Good morning, Señora. Let me help, mi’lord.” He jumped down and hurried to assist Roman, using the ropes to fasten the stained-glass window securely. “Will there be anything else?” he asked.
Shelene wasn’t sure Roman was aware how much the boy wanted to please his hero. And it probably wasn’t the time to tell Joaquin that his mother was looking for him. He so much wanted to be the man Roman was.
Roman held her hand as he helped her into the carriage. “Joaquin, we might be gone for several hours. Make sure everything is ready for the new horses. Confer with Cortes and Udad. I want the stables pristine. I want every horse watered and groomed. Check their hooves for damage and stones. The best of care.”
“I know, mi’lord.” Joaquin jammed his hat upon his head and ran toward the upper paddock.
“Will we make it back in time?” Shelene asked. “I don’t want you to be late.”
“Brahim and Sakina will make our guests comfortable. We’ll be home before dark. You’re not going alone, if that is what you are going to say next.” He clucked his tongue and the horse sauntered away.
“I have to face him. That’s all.”
“A task we can do together.”
“Oh, it’s just that I hated myself for sitting in church last Sunday and having to swallow my words. And Father Etienne having the nerve to stand before the congregation when he is nothing but a pious tonto.”
“There are fools everywhere, but at least his church wasn’t burned to the ground.”
“My uncle wouldn’t—oh, when am I going to stop trying to defend that man?”
“In time. Shelene, there’s something I need to ask you.”
“Oh? A thousand thoughts just filled my head. Unhappy thoughts.” She gripped his hand. “Don’t let it be something dreadful.”
“Well, it is dreadful in that you don’t like the weather.”
“England? You want to go back? I knew you would. Eventually. It’s because of Spain, isn’t it? A country torn apart. It may take years to rebuild. You want Antonio to be safe.”
“All those things might be true, but that’s not why. Oliver wants to go home in six weeks. I would like for us to travel with him. The wine barrels will be full. The harvest will be complete.”
“You mean just for a visit?
Roman nodded.
“Why didn’t you say so?”
“I was trying to say so.”
“You had me worried. I mean, it seems we are just settling into our new life and now you are talking about England again.”
“Not again. Oliver is on the mend, and he wants to go home. I would like to introduce our son to my mother and family. I thought we should travel with him.”
“You won’t be tempted to stay? You won’t be tempted by your former mistress?”
He laughed. “Not when I have a wife who tempts me more.”
“I want to believe. I do. And I am trying.”
“I saw you try last night, and you made a believer out of me.”
She bumped hard against his shoulder, but she couldn’t help smiling. “That’s not funny.”
“Shelene, I understand that it is still difficult to believe me, to take me at my word when I broke it at such a crucial time, but it’s all I have to give you. I don’t know how much time it will take for my word to become a certainty for you—”
“How can I commit to what I don’t know myself?”
“A little faith.”
“A lot of faith,” she insisted.
“I don’t fault you for having doubts.”
“Then allow me to clutch my doubting pearls a little longer.”
“We are going to be so busy over the coming months you won’t have time to think of it. One day it will be like it never was. That you’ll trust me in the same way I trust you.”
“Will we be home by Todos Los Santos?” she asked.
“Hmm. That should give us six weeks in England. We’ll need to depart by mid-October to be home in time.”
“Home. That sounds wonderful when you say it.” The small conveyance rattled over the wood and stone San Miguel Bridge leading into Arco de la Frontera. She took a deep breath, knowing what she would have to do shortly. Face a man of God, not asking for forgiveness, but demanding an apology.
Roman hefted the window and carried it up the church stairs. Shelene hurried to open the large door. A young pr
iest approached, one Shelene did not know. He was thin with a mop of reddish-brown hair and large dark eyes that appeared most sincere.
“We are here to see Father Etienne,” she said.
“I am Father Rivera, your new priest. You must be Señora Forrester, and this must be the legendary stained-glass window being returned to its home.” Roman propped the package in the aisle against one of the pews. The priest glanced up to the wooden barrier. “It will be such a wonderful surprise for the congregation this Sunday.”
“Yes, and this is my husband, Señor Forrester. Where has Father Etienne gone? To a new parish?”
“No, Señora. He is taking a sabbatical in Jerusalem for the next year.”
“Oh,” she said, glancing at Roman.
“But you are not to worry. Father Etienne left you a note and he told me of the thanksgiving mass he promised you. You need only tell me what time works for you and your family. Let me fetch his letter.” The priest puttered away.
“Well, that was a surprise,” Roman said.
“I already know what the note is going to say.”
“You might be surprised.”
“Not at all. It will be full of reasons I should forgive him, and that love is the greatest of gifts and that my soul should be full of kindness not animosity.”
When he returned, Shelene gave him permission for a mass in two weeks and yes, the entire family would be in attendance. The letter with her name on it, she kept secure in her hand.
Outside, she said, “Should I read it now and be angry all the way home?”
“I can read it for you.”
“No,” she said, and pried at the seal. She unfolded the letter. And she was right about the contents. Most of it. She glanced up at Roman with tears in her eyes.
“That bad?”
“He doesn’t ask for forgiveness for himself, but that I would forgive you. Oh, Roman,” she said, and wrapped her arms about him. “I do forgive you. For everything. And there is so much joy and love in my heart and I don’t want to bear the weight of all those feelings I’ve had. I love you. I want us to have that life I dreamed of when I was sixteen.”
“You shall have it. And more.” He cupped her face. “And you must not worry, I will spend at least the next year groveling at your feet and doing penance for my callous disregard of your feelings. I will earn your forgiveness. I will rebuild that trust necessary for our future. And I will love you as I loved you once long ago. With all my heart. And I will even surrender my affection for England.”
