by Maeve Alpin
1612 AD
Aboard the Spanish airship, the Grande Fortuna Don Ramon Suarez slid his black-booted feet apart, as his linen shirt billowed in the salt-laced wind like the large sails of the airship. The sky-galleon soared higher as the wooden wings flapped hard. Aeronauts on either side, in worn, solid toned doublets, most wearing snug knit caps, kept their hands on the levers and their feet on the pedals. A leathery faced man, an obvious sea-dog turned sky-dog, in a bright red cap topped with a brass button, tugged the rope pulley. The noise of the chugging steam combustion system and three engines in the hold nearly drowned out the creaking and groaning of the timbers of the airship in the high winds.
Ramon gripped the ship-rail of royal Spanish oak and latched his gaze onto the rumbling, black clouds. So far he’d managed to stay out of the noisy hold. The brewing storm meant he couldn’t sleep on deck. The sails on the tall mast billowed and the bright flag of Spain flapped from the masthead as he scanned the stormy sky until fixing his gaze on the other ship, the El Amanecer, where Governor De Nunez stood on deck, a man whose coffers overflowed with gold and silver from Peru. Ramon had boarded the Grande Fortuna, headed to the new world in the sky, to fill his strong boxes in like fashion. His father gambled away the family fortune before he died and his mother used her dowry to fill two staterooms with vibrant tapestries, gilded religious pictures, and opulent floor cushions, but neglected the upkeep of livestock and fields. Her words still rung in his ears. “My son, you need marry an heiress with a large dowry.”
He would not marry a rich woman. To live the life his father had, with only his mistresses and games of cards to keep him happy, with no interest in his wife and son. He thought of the other reason not to marry. “Ana,” he rasped her name into the hard wind. As his linen shirt ruffled against the crisp hairs of his chest, he longed for her fluttery fingers fondling the small whorls of dark hair.
Every time he coupled with any woman his mind spun with fantasies of the peasant girl, he’d grown up with, the milk maid on the estate. As a Spanish don of noble blood, he could never marry beneath his class. Though he could take her as his mistress, but she left. He didn’t know why or how to find her. Maybe she wed a hardworking peasant. No doubt he’d never see her again.
A milk maid on the estate didn’t begin to describe the claim she had on his soul. When he first saw her, pink, and wrinkly, a babe laying on a small pile of hay covered with a blanket near her mother milking the cows, he considered her a play thing. As a boy, only four years old, he’d sneaked away from his governess to shake a rattle in front of her until she smiled. As she grew, they played chase, had hay fights, and swung back and forth on a rope in the barn’s loft for fun. As a child he assumed she’d always be there for him, with him.
A roar of thunder pulled him from his musings as the ship heaved, drenched in a torrent of rain. Ramon’s reflexes saved him as he clung so tight to the rail his knuckles turned white. The barrage of wind and rain sent the wooden vessel careening toward the Earth. The Spanish flag hung limp and sodden from the masthead.
A woman crawled out of the hold. “Blow it! I’m not going down with the airship.”
Gritting his teeth against the chill downpour, Ramon glanced at the strange lady. A howling wind swept the rocking deck and snatched the wavering, black-clad woman. She grabbed the rail to save her life before the gush could toss her overboard. Then the ship heaved and she lost her grip. Her screech of terror vibrated in the air even with the roaring turbulence.
“By all the saints.” Ramon pivoted forward, grabbing the woman’s waist. He yanked her against him, and saved her from a fall to her death. “Get down below,” he shouted against the furry of the wind.
She ripped the wet veil from her face and gasped, her eyes widened in shock.
Something about her jogged Ramon’s memory, but the pounding rain obscured the details of her features. Some type of flying debris struck the woman’s forehead, but Ramon managed to hold onto both the rail and the lady, now limp in his arms. When a sailor latched a hemp rope from one side of the ship rail to the other, Ramon grabbed it, waded across to the hold, and crawled inside, still cradling the slender lady.
As the ship rode the rumbling storm outside, inside the hold the thrashing and hissing of pistons, gears, and steam rattled his ears. He had not thought it possible, but the din sounded noisier than the back streets of Seville.
He lifted his hand from the woman’s head, glancing at the scarlet splash of fresh blood on his palm. “The dama bleeds. Is there a physician on board?”
A man, who declared he was a surgeon, took over her care.
“The wound is slight. She shall soon awake.” In a ponderous tone the surgeon added, “I always thought of the widow as elderly. Who would have known she was so young?”
The woman released a long, low moan.
“I am at a loss to comment on her age for I do not know the dama. I was but blessed with the good fortune to be there in her time of need.” Ramon hoped for a real doctor. Surgeons were always cutting off an arm or a leg, so he stayed nearby in case the woman needed rescuing from the surgeon.
With a deep rumbling cough the surgeon cleared his throat. “No doubt the widow will want to thank the man who saved her life.”
“Si, I would like to wish her a swift recovery.” He’d rescued a woman. A warm fluttery sensation filled his chest as he knelt at the lady’s side. Ramon stiffened, his smile faded. He could not breathe, his heart raced. “Ana?”
She cupped her forehead. “Don Ramon, you have my undying gratitude. Indeed you saved my life. Do forgive me, but I need to rest. I will join you later to speak of old times.”
He noticed her sad, half-smile. “Indeed, I look forward to speaking with you, Señora Reyes.”
Ana rolled her eyes downward and whispered, “Ave Maria.” She turned her face to the wall.
Ramon tucked a blanket about her. “Later, indeed. Now that I have found you again, I shan’t lose you.” Louder, he said, “Rest well, dama Ana.”
If she married a noble named Reyes, he’d know of it. No, her widow garb was a disguise. She’d fooled the entire crew. He couldn’t wait to hear her explanation. Though it should prove to be amusing, he didn’t really think he’d find it funny.
* * * * *
Now dressed in a dry gown, Ana pulled the damp, black veil over her face. As she stared out through the dark, transparent fabric, her thoughts drifted back to the day Ramon left for Seville and his mother, Dama Beatriz, dismissed her as the milkmaid.
Dama Beatriz warned the entire countryside about Ana, calling her an alluring creature intent on seducing the sons of Castile. Left with no means of obtaining another position nearby and her parents dead, she headed to Seville. She’d never left the estate she was born on, before. She grew up with Ramon. They played together like sister and brother until she turned thirteen. Four years her senior, she recalled when Ramon turned seventeen he looked and acted much different than the boy she ran through hay stacks with. Tall as any man, with stubble on his chin, and a hunger in his eyes when he gazed at her, she often found him peering at her breasts. Things changed between them then and five years later she found herself orphaned, homeless, friendless…and Ramon nowhere in sight.
Then she heard a public announcement in the square. In the name of God and King, Juan De Nunez sought colonists for an expedition to a new planet. She plodded through Seville to the port of San Lucar where De Nunez’s airships docked. They would fly explorers and settlers to Italy to board three rocket ships, which massive cannons would fire into deep space. They would soar to the newly discovered planet.Luck was with her when she ducked into an inn, hoping to work for a night’s keep.
The crafty innkeeper’s wife, a Christianized Moor, liked the idea of a milkmaid venturing to outer space. She said, “Ana you are bold like me. I cannot go to the new planet because I am a Moroccan, but I don’t want their Planet X. You are an unwanted peasant. The king doesn’t want the likes of you aboard his rocke
t, which is reason enough for me to help you. Don’t go in the guise of a man. It works for many women, but you are too pretty. When they see you are a woman, they will abuse you. Go as an elegant widow with a large dowry.”
She’d handed Ana a heavy leather bag. Ana recalled, her breath caught in her throat and her heart pounded when she saw all the shiny silver coins inside.
The woman had continued, “As they seek volunteers on this maiden voyage, the passage is free, but you must have money to whet their appetite for the rich dowry they expect you to bring.”
She had wagged her thick eyebrows. “Do not worry where this came from. It is but a small portion of silver hoarded in the baggage of one of my quality patrons, who was taking it to France, without paying the Castilian tax.” She’d winked at Ana. “He didn’t mind that I took a little. What would he do, report to the law the silver he meant to smuggle into France was missing?”
The woman had taken out a lacy, black gown and veil. “This belonged to a lady who met her lover at daily mass then came here for their lecherous trysts.” She shook the clothing in the air. “Si, no one would expect a fine, noble lady to come to a dock side inn. When her dress came up missing from her gear, what could she do? Say, ‘Husband a Moroccan stole my dress while I cavorted with a man.’”
The old woman leaned her head back. “Hah! I know who I can take from and who I cannot. If not for pillaging my guest, I would make no money at all. Like you Ana, I do what I must.”
That day, the humble milk maid became Dama Ana de Reyes, recent widow, seeking to plant and cultivate land on an unnamed planet, called X. Her new identity worked so far. They had not tossed her overboard as of yet.
She climbed out of the hold onto the damp deck and breathed in the fresh air. Gazing at nothing but grayish clouds among patches of blue sky, her thoughts drifted to Ramon. Would he come at candle time to woo her? If he did, what of it? The upper class were born to pretty talk, it meant naught. At one time he’d been like a brother to her, then he’d become her first love though she stayed chaste. Now Ramon was nothing but a noble lord who wanted a tumble with her, nothing more. She had to remember that.
Though he was the first man she’d kissed, she remembered their last kiss even more. It happened when her mother died and she needed him to comfort her. She recalled the warmth of his lips as they’d covered hers, the scent of him, leather and wood, and the floating, tingling sensation that overcame her. Yet, the memory would have to do. She’d never let him steal another kiss. She wanted so much more. More than he’d ever be willing to give her. She longed for a loving marriage like her parents had.
She sensed someone’s presence and turned to find Ramon standing at her side. As she admired the bronze sheen of his face, his ebony hair, slicked back and tied at the nape, she brought up a solemn subject for distraction. “Ah, Don Ramon, soon we will reach Italy. Then what? Will we ever reach this planet in the black of space? Many say man is not meant to venture into the heavens.”
“There is danger on any journey, but with Juan De Nunez as our leader we have nothing to fear.” Confidence shone through Ramon’s dark eyes.
“He is a hard man is he not?” She turned and walked across the deck. The wooden boards creaked beneath her feet.
Ramon strolled at her side. “You do not trust anyone. Your life would be easier if you did.”
The lord of quality, how would he know what would make her life easier? “Don Ramon, my life is not your concern. I can take care of myself well enough.”
“No need to be formal, call me Ramon. If you are so opposed to nobles, such as Juan De Nunez and me, managing servants and aliens, I fail to see why you are persistent in honoring my status by calling me lord every chance you get.” As he peered at her, his compelling eyes contained a sensuous flame.
His smile sent her pulse racing. Oh, why did he always change the subject? “I was not speaking of servants and nobility. I only asked, do you not feel wary about leaving the ends of the Earth, and flying in the black vastness of outer space toward a strange new planet where we will be dependent on this man, De Nunez?”
“No, I do not.” His intense gaze locked on hers. “Now, do you see how much better Ramon sounds? I love the sound of my name on your lips.”
She stared at his mouth, edged with a neatly trimmed beard, which added a rugged power to his face. She recalled how it tickled her chin when they use to kiss. Her lips quivered and her heart pounded. She shut her eyes and tried to clear her head. A nagging inner voice said, he doesn’t care about you, a peasant.
When his mother threw her out she thought Ramon would come for her. With her parents gone, he was the only person left who loved her or who she loved. How foolish she was. He never came forward to stop his mother or to help her find a place to sleep, food to eat. A stranger, a Moroccan inn keeper in Seville had come to her rescue.
Ramon’s voice softened. “De Nunez is a good man.”
He gazed at her with deep concern in his eyes which filled her with a warm glow. If only he really loved her, but she knew that couldn’t be.
His mouth curved into a beckoning smile. “Though you will soar across an endless sky to an unknown world, you will have me at your side.”
He grasped her hand and squeezed. She couldn’t let go of him.
Seductively, Ramon loosened his hold and rolled his arm about her waist. He yanked her against his muscular chest. She burned and melted in his arms. Headed to a new planet, perhaps a chance existed for them since his mother would be worlds away, on Earth, in Spain.
She suddenly realized, no, never, not as his mistress. That would make her the wanton his mother claimed she was, and she’d never have love like the kind her parents shared. She flung him away and climbed into the hold. Willing to be shot out of a cannon into space for a new life, she wouldn’t settle for second best, with the man she still loved.
Chapter Two
For the rest of the voyage, she managed to avoid Ramon, thus the hours melded together, with little change between them, until the promising words, “Ahoy, Rome,” rung out from a sailor on deck.
She hung on to a hook on the wall, clutching her stomach, which flipped over as the flying galleon plunged and rocked until it landed in the water then sailed to the docks. One of the last passengers to wobble down the plank to solid ground, Ana tried to recover her land legs by breathing in the dock side smell of fish and wine. She clutched her belly, fearing she might retch.
Someone called, “Widow de Reyes, we will accompany you.” Ramon peered out from the windows of a black carriage detailed in gold trim. “You must see Señor Salvador de Gradi’s maze and fountains.”
Thoughts of the beautiful garden stirred a feeling of serenity in her unlike the swaying ship. With an eager pace she walked toward the carriage, but hesitated when she spotted De Nunez sitting across from Ramon.
Santa Maria! Why would Ramon bring her into a carriage with the Governor? She needed to stay away from the De Nunez least he suspect she wasn’t noble, but a lady could not walk the docks unchaperoned. Not knowing what else to do, she climbed in and slid into the seat next to Ramon.
De Nunez gently lifted her hand and brushed a kiss against her knuckles. Ana nodded in acknowledgment then took a deep breath as she fidgeted with her black veil. The clippity clop rhythm of the four horses trotting to the De Gradi villa helped her relax as she peered through the carriage windows at the manicured lawns and hedges of clipped trees forming avenues. Stretching for miles on end, it surpassed the Suarez estate where Ana had worked. Would she be able to acquire land such as this on planet X? Her heart pounded in her chest as she imagined her dreams coming true. The driver reined the horses in before a huge white washed manor.
A tall, slender woman bedecked in a gown of courtly fashion introduced herself as Signora Sabina De Gradi, the lady of the villa. With Ana’s stomach now recovered and having endured all those hours in the sky with nothing but hardtack, the welcoming aroma of saffron, basil, cumin, and olive oil lur
ed her into the dining room.
Ramon sat beside Ana and cut her slices of roebuck, stewed veal, and mutton. Constantly, he called to a servant boy to make sure her goblet stayed full of red wine. A servant brought forth a platter of almond paste cookies and red sugared apples for desert.
Ana peered at Ramon hoping he wouldn’t catch her staring as she cradled a cup of vino. She rolled her tongue upward, licking a drop of the sweet liquid from her lips.
Ramon wound his arm around her shoulders and bent his head down to her ear. “I have something to show you.”
Ana shivered against him. His bronze body, powerful thighs, sinewy shoulders, and brawn chest exuded the virility of a lion. Her senses magnified his woodsy, leathery scent and the velvety tone of his voice. Her pulse raced just as it had when they were young and so in love or so she had thought. She rose and he took her arm in his. It was so easy to think of love when she walked at his side, but he would never consider serous thoughts of marriage to her.
They strolled into the garden where crimson roses splashed against vibrant green shrubs bordering the winding path. Yellow and white blossoms spruced up dark, well-trimmed bushes and ivy clung to and climbed white marble pillars. She breathed in the exotic musky, sweet, and spicy scents of the well pruned garden as wrens chirped.
Ramon ran his warm palm down the line of her cheekbone and cupped her chin. As she met his gaze, he leaned his head closer and rubbed his lips against hers. Ana moaned. Her senses reeled from the burning sensation of his touch and the salty taste of his lips. Her pulse pounded as he kissed her. He prodded his tongue against her lips parting them. A jolt of heat shot through her with the thrust of his coarse, pliable tongue, invading her, stroking her mouth.
He withdrew his tongue and lips and hoarsely whispered, “You are such a beautiful woman. The only one for me, mi amor.”
She fought the quivering heat within and dredged up the question she had to ask. “Ramon do you wish to wed me?” She wrung her hands.
