Far Side of the Sea

by Kate Breslin

  “Let me help you—”

  “No!” She held up a hand. “No, please . . . I can manage.” She turned from him, determined to crawl back to her room through the sand if necessary to hide her shame.

  She made slow progress in her heels, hoping he wouldn’t follow. As she reached the quay, Jo paused to glance behind her, relieved to see his shadowed frame still standing near the edge of the sea.

  Nursing her ache along with her guilt, she turned and fled back up the street toward the hotel.

  ———

  Colin gazed after her as humiliation, anger, and a deeper emotion he dared not examine consumed him. What had he been about? Johanna had spoken to him so eloquently of honor and integrity, and then he’d gone and ruined it all by taking unfair advantage of her!

  No wonder she wanted to be as far from him as possible. He was a bounder to seduce her.

  And what about Jewel? Colin had yet to determine her true circumstances and feelings; he still believed she’d spoken to him in Toulouse under duress. Until then, he was bound by duty to the promise that had called him back to France: God’s plan for his future with Jewel, offering her a home and happiness, making up for all that she had sacrificed. . . .

  You’re in love with Johanna. Colin’s heart beat dully in his chest while the truth settled over him like a heavy stone. His feelings for her had nothing to do with duty or honor, and everything to do with love. Yet he was still bound by his vow to her sister.

  Standing in his misery, he watched as Johanna finally reached the quay. She looked back at him before turning to head up the street, and he quickly followed at a safe distance, making certain she returned to the hotel unharmed.

  As she passed through the terrace doors to go inside, he paused, hovering beneath a street lamp, his skin numbed to the bite of the chill wind.

  Never would he forget their kiss. He’d tasted her passion, felt the softness of her as he drew her into his arms. Colin thought of the words she’d spoken about love being a matter of the heart, and the way her stirring declaration had made him yearn inside.

  How would he face her tomorrow? Colin briefly considered the idea of going upstairs to apologize, but her emotions were likely too agitated, and he was still too on edge to go inside just yet.

  He walked the streets instead, and it was late when he returned to the hotel.

  Senyor Vilar sat behind the desk, his dark features filled with concern. “I hope your wife is feeling well, Lieutenant?”

  “A bit too much of the cold night air.” Colin forced a smile. “She’ll be right as rain tomorrow.”

  The sound of voices coming from the dining room drew his attention. “You’ve got a party going on?”

  “No, the guests are having dinner.”

  Colin nodded. Like the French, the Catalans seemed to enjoy dining late.

  “Are you hungry, Lieutenant?”

  “No, but I would appreciate tea if you have it.”

  The innkeeper shrugged and shook his head.

  “All right, how about a coffee with cream?”

  “Sí, molt bé.” This time Senyor Vilar beamed. “Shall I have it brought upstairs?”

  “Yes, thank you. Room 201.”

  Upstairs, Colin neared his door but continued a few more steps to Johanna’s room, where he listened for a moment. No sound emerged, and he supposed she had gone to sleep.

  Relieved, Colin had worried she might be weeping and knew he wouldn’t be able to stand himself if he didn’t offer to comfort her.

  He entered his room and had just removed his cap and jacket when a knock sounded.

  Johanna? Colin rushed to open the door.

  His hopes fell as he regarded the plump innkeeper’s wife holding a tray with his coffee. “Bona nit, senyor.” She beamed. “Cafè amb llet?”

  He allowed her inside to set the coffee on his nightstand. “Gràcies, senyora.”

  She offered a gracious bow. “De res.”

  When she’d left, Colin finished getting ready for bed. Removing the leather chest harness and arm brace holding his prosthetic in place, he sighed with relief, glad to be rid of the constrictive metal. Once he’d donned his nightclothes, he set his alarm for the morning and then reached for his coffee.

  He sat on the edge of his bed sipping the warm drink while the image of Johanna’s tormented face continued to permeate his conscience.

  Colin still didn’t know how he would face her in the morning. And what if Jewel, once they found her, admitted she still had feelings for him?

  A loud yawn escaped him as a weariness he’d not felt since coming home from the war suddenly descended upon him. In truth, he’d endured an exhausting day.

  Returning the cup to its saucer, Colin extinguished the lamp. Perhaps things would look better in the morning.

  He didn’t see how, but he must have faith.

  CHAPTER

  19

  Jo returned from breakfast the following morning and decided to finish packing. It was early yet—barely eight-thirty—and while Petit wouldn’t arrive to collect them for another hour, she needed to stay busy to fight off the fatigue making her light-headed and causing her eyes to burn.

  Dressed in yesterday’s gray traveling suit, the only clothes to repack were her nightgown, robe, and of course the shawl. Jo brushed her hand over the heavy wool, her thoughts returning to the previous evening, when she’d clutched the fabric about her, bracing against the cold breezes coming off the shore. The way Colin’s kiss had ignited her senses, every raw nerve attuned to his touch and his scent, the warmth of his lips . . .

  A stab of longing pierced her, another reminder of her sleepless night. Lying awake in the dark, she’d replayed over and over in her mind their kiss. In the light of day, it was foolish to imagine that either of them had not wanted it to happen, yet guilt continued to plague her, the knowledge that she had betrayed her sister, and in the process, fallen in love with Colin Mabry.

  If Jo felt miserable, what must Colin be going through? Last night, he’d taken all of the blame for their actions. He, a man who prided himself on being honorable. Was he feeling remorse?

  As far as she knew, he still held the hope that Jewel cared for him, convinced Jo’s sister was somehow under Kepler’s power.

  Again Jo wondered if Jewel was being threatened. She knew the feeling; it was the reason she could never return to Ireland. Not without being hunted down and exposed . . .

  She compressed her lips as she folded the shawl, placing it inside the open steamer trunk on her bed. Colin was a man of worth. He would pursue her sister and seek out the truth of her feelings.

  While Jo must forget hers.

  As if that were even possible. She fought against a growing sense of melancholy. More than ever, she needed her papa, the one person alive in the world who had loved her.

  Petit must know where to locate Kepler and her sister in Barcelona. The sooner they found them, the closer Jo would be to discovering her father’s whereabouts.

  Before closing the trunk, she retrieved her toiletries from behind the screen and gazed fondly at her small white bird in his cage on the floor. “We are about to continue our quest, mon ami.”

  She had just finished packing the trunk when a knock sounded at the door.

  Her glance darted toward the screen before she moved to answer the summons. Jo’s pulse pounded as she deliberated over what she might say to Colin.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Mabry.”

  She had inched the door open and was surprised to see Petit in the hall. “Mr. Petit! You’re certainly early. Has something happened?”

  “I’ve located Kepler and your sister in Portbou.”

  “They are here?” Stunned, Jo cracked the door a little wider. “Where exactly?”

  “At the train station.” Removing his hat, he glanced at the floor. “Look, I made a mistake about the train schedule yesterday. The next one leaves for Barcelona at nine o’clock. We have only minutes to get there if we want to board the
same train and follow them.”

  “Oh, my goodness!” A quiver of excitement raced through her. “I’m almost packed. I need to go and fetch Colin—”

  “There’s no time.”

  Her eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

  “We have to catch that train.”

  Jo opened the door wide and stood with arms crossed. “Colin is going with us, Mr. Petit. I am not leaving without him.”

  He stared at her, then muttered something unintelligible before slamming the hat back onto his head. “Get your luggage together. I’ll go and see if he’s ready. But we’ve got to hurry!”

  Closing the door, Jo finished securing her trunk and placed it with her hatboxes near the door. She returned to her pigeon behind the screen and carefully fed Little Corporal a dropperful of the chamomile tea, listening for Petit’s knock and hoping he wouldn’t return before she had finished.

  “You are such a brave boy.” Jo soothed her little bird as she returned him to his cage.

  She was setting out the kit bag with her other luggage when Petit returned. This time, Jo allowed him inside. “Is Colin ready?”

  “The lieutenant was still in bed. He’s not feeling well. He said we should go on to Barcelona, and he’ll catch the afternoon train and meet us there.”

  Jo’s eyes widened in alarm. “What is wrong with him?”

  “He didn’t say. Maybe it was something he ate at dinner?”

  Jo swallowed past the ache in her throat. She doubted it was the food. Colin obviously didn’t want to face her so soon after last night. He must feel awful. “I should go to him.”

  She started for the door. Petit blocked her way. “Mrs. Mabry . . . Johanna . . . if we do not leave this minute, I fear we’ll lose your sister altogether.”

  Frowning with a sudden uneasiness, she searched his face. While Petit had been most helpful during their quest, Colin didn’t trust the American. Jo also recalled the mysterious intruder in her hotel room back in Toulouse. Colin hadn’t ruled out Petit there, either.

  Was he telling her the truth? “I need to see Colin.” Determination edged her voice. “It won’t take but a minute, Mr. Petit.”

  He blew out a heavy breath and turned to open the door for her. “Suit yourself, ma’am.”

  Once they exited to the hall, Jo went to Colin’s door and knocked softly. “Colin? Are you all right?”

  Silence. She glanced at Petit.

  “He probably went back to sleep.”

  Jo knocked again. “Colin?” Still no answer. She bit her lower lip. Was he so terribly ill? “I’ll go and get a key from Senyor Vilar.”

  “No need.” Reaching into his pocket, Petit removed a set of picks, and in less than a minute, he’d quietly opened Colin’s door. “After you,” he whispered.

  Jo peered inside. Colin lay sound asleep in his bed. She debated a moment on whether to wake him or not. But if he was feeling ill . . .

  She stepped back out into the hall.

  Petit spoke in a low voice. “Look, Mrs. Mabry. I’ve got a cab waiting. If you’d rather stay here, I understand. But I need to continue following your sister and Kepler. Maybe you and the lieutenant should go home to Paris.”

  “No! Wait.” Jo frowned as she tried to decide what to do. If she remained in Portbou, she would lose her best and last chance to find Jewel and the trail leading to their father.

  Still, she didn’t want to abandon Colin. “Are you certain he said he would follow this afternoon?”

  Petit’s expression softened. “I’ll fetch him myself from the train station.”

  “All right.” She peeked in at Colin’s sleeping form one last time before gently closing the door to return to her own room.

  While Petit hauled the bulk of her luggage downstairs, Jo carried her purse and the kit bag. She regretted now not leaving Colin a note and decided to stop at the front desk for pen and paper. The innkeeper was not there.

  “Can you get the door?”

  Petit stood at the hotel entrance, his arms loaded with her bags. Jo quickly obliged, then cast a glance back at the empty front desk. She knew their taxi waited outside and that Petit would leave her behind if she didn’t follow.

  “Mrs. Mabry?”

  She blew out a frustrated sigh as she moved to enter the back seat of the cab. Irritated at being pressured despite the necessity, Jo spoke to him in a brisk tone. “When Colin arrives in Barcelona this afternoon, Mr. Petit, I’m going with you to meet his train.”

  “Of course.” Petit closed his eyes as he rested his head back against the seat.

  His assurance improved her mood somewhat. Regardless of what had transpired last night, Jo wanted Colin by her side.

  At the busy station, Petit purchased their tickets while the bags went with a porter. On the platform, Jo’s attention turned to seeking out Kepler and her sister. She scanned for any sign of them, knowing Jewel typically wore black. “Have you some idea which car they’re in? Can we sit nearby?”

  “We shouldn’t get too close, or we’ll arouse Kepler’s suspicions.” Petit’s expression eased, and he smiled. “Tell you what. When we disembark in Barcelona, we’ll watch for them and follow to see where they plan to stay.”

  “An excellent idea!” Jo’s heart thrummed with new anticipation as she and Petit found their seats in coach. Settling the kit bag onto the floor beside her feet, she cracked it open, making certain her filmy scarf lay over the cage.

  Jo searched the passengers entering the car and realized this was the closest she’d ever come to actually meeting her sister. With a pang, she realized how much she missed Colin and wished he were here to share the moment with her. Perhaps they could talk. . . .

  The train’s whistle pulled her back to the present. The wheels beneath them lumbered forward, and again she surveyed the dozens of noisy people now seated in the same car. A number of women wore the black of mourning, but there was no Kepler accompanying them.

  She turned and whispered to Petit. “You are certain they are on this train?”

  He eyed her with a languid expression. “I saw them enter the second car ahead of ours.”

  Satisfied, Jo leaned back in her seat and tried to calm her jangled nerves. It was no use, however, and she fidgeted with her gloves, ready to burst with excitement at the thought of meeting Jewel for the very first time. The trip to Barcelona would take almost two and a half hours. Could she sit still that long?

  Her gaze darted to the kit bag at her feet.

  She hoped Little Corporal at least would be able to contain himself.

  CHAPTER

  20

  This could not be happening twice.

  The thought filtered through Colin’s pounding skull as he awoke to the bright light shining in through his hotel window. Blinking against the glare, he slowly turned his head to eye the suspect cup of coffee on the nightstand. He glanced at the alarm clock beside it.

  The hands had stopped at 0800.

  “No . . .” He groaned as he reached for his wristwatch lying beside the clock and squinted at the dial. 0900.

  Titan’s teeth! He’d slept through the blasted alarm. Petit . . .

  Muttering a curse, this time at the American, Colin raised himself to sit on the edge of the bed. He held his head for a full minute until the room stopped spinning, then rose and stumbled toward the washstand.

  He met his bleary-eyed reflection in the mirror before splashing his face with cold water. How had Petit managed to drug his coffee?

  Just thirty minutes remained before the American was to arrive and take them to the train. If the bounder was coming for them at all.

  Either way, Colin must hurry. If Petit failed to show, Colin and Johanna would hire their own cab to the station.

  Colin abandoned the idea of shaving and went through the rest of his ablutions with lightning speed. He dressed quickly, leaving off with most of the shirt buttons before fitting the harness and shrugging into his uniform tunic.

  By the time he fled his roo
m in a somewhat presentable state, it was 0925. He knocked on Johanna’s door, dreading his confrontation with her. He was glad at least the ache in his head had dulled enough that he would have his wits about him.

  When Johanna still hadn’t answered after the second knock, Colin wondered if she was downstairs having breakfast.

  Reaching the lobby, he spied the portly innkeeper behind the desk, reviewing his books. “Excuse me, senyor, have you seen my . . . Madame Mabry?”

  Senyor Vilar looked up and smiled. “Bon dia, Lieutenant.” His face abruptly registered confusion. “But . . . I thought you were with them?”

  Colin frowned. “Who?”

  “Senyora Mabry and the tall American you arrived with. I saw them getting into a cab when I returned from the back room about an hour ago. I thought perhaps the three of you wished to enjoy an early meal at one of our cafés.”

  Johanna had left the hotel . . . with Petit? Colin’s heart pounded. “Do you know where they went?”

  Vilar shrugged. “The American dined here with us last night and asked for recommendations, but I do not know which café he might have chosen.”

  Petit was at their hotel last night? Colin scowled. It would explain how the man had managed to get the sleeping draught into the coffee. He and the American were going to have it out one of these days and soon.

  But why hadn’t they returned? A sense of dread filled him. “Do you have a spare key for 202?”

  The innkeeper’s dark brows drew together as he reached for the box of keys. “I will accompany you upstairs.”

  Upon reaching their floor, the portly man unlocked Johanna’s room, and Colin rushed inside.

  Everything was gone—her steamer trunk, the hatboxes, even her kit bag with Little Corporal. Had she purposely left him behind?

  Colin checked the time. 0945. Anger at Petit warred with his self-reproach. Johanna must have decided to duck out early with the American for the train station, wishing to avoid Colin as long as possible. Not that he blamed her. He’d been three kinds of a fool yesterday, making her run away from him.

  Teeth clenched, Colin fished a folded wad of francs from his pocket and handed the cash to the innkeeper. “Take what you need for our rooms. I have to pack. If you would also arrange a cab, I’ve got just minutes to catch the ten o’clock train to Barcelona.”