by Tina Donahue
She looked at them longingly, almost as much as she had him.
“I assure you, your volumes will be safe.”
She searched his face and nodded finally. “I should tell Isabella my plans. If anyone asks about me, she can always say I left the convent to stay with her and Fernando. When friends visit, she can claim illness has kept me in bed or that I returned to the convent.”
“You have no reason for concern.” He’d never allow gossip to force her into a marriage she claimed not to want but also seemed drawn to. When he made her his, the moment would be because she couldn’t endure the thought of anything less. “I promise, no one will find out you and I are living together.”
She took her candle. “We should go back to our bedchambers before anyone misses us.”
“Dressed as you are? Tell me where your room is. After I bring your clothing, you can change down here, then leave.”
She bit her lip.
“I promise to be careful.”
“You had better. My chamber is on the second level, the last on the right with a large wardrobe. My gowns, kirtles—”
“I promise to bring one of each.” Enrique was well aware what women wore. He’d undressed enough of them. “Swear to stay here until I return.”
“How long will you be?”
With guests possibly milling about, who knew? “Please stay here.”
She hesitated then nodded.
After taking a candle, he considered kissing her farewell, but he didn’t want to press his good fortune. Swiftly, he crossed the passageway and climbed the steps to the hidden door. With his ear pressed against the wood, he listened for footfalls or voices but heard nothing more than his blood rushing in his ears.
His pulse hammered at the promise of being near Sancha from dawn to dusk, smelling her sweet fragrance, feeling her heat, drowning in her gentle smile that could turn wanton in a moment. He’d witnessed the transformation and longed to have her behave the same again, impetuous and unashamed.
He opened the door a crack. No one on the left. The right was also empty. After making certain he’d sealed the passage entrance, he put the candle in its holder, then rushed down this corridor to the next and reached the stairs in scant minutes.
Halfway up the flight, footfalls rang out behind him. “Enrique.”
Luscinda.
Poised to run, he nevertheless forced himself to face her.
She’d dressed in bright blue silk. The corners of her lush mouth turned up wantonly. “Buenos días.”
“Señorita.”
His cool greeting did nothing to diminish or extinguish her smile.
Not wanting to drag out the moment, he inclined his head. “Please excuse me.”
“Did you have a pleasant night?” She climbed the stairs, taking him in. “Did you sleep at all?”
He frowned at her intrusive questions.
“You seem tired.” She studied every part of him. “You haven’t changed your clothes from yesterday. Your doublet and robe are such a beautiful blue I decided to wear the same color today.” She laughed softly. “We match.”
Not in any way.
Before he could move from her, she was on the same step as his and rested her hand on his arm. “Accompany me to breakfast.”
“Your mamá can.” He pulled his arm away. “Please ask her, as I have no appetite.”
“Perhaps not, but during my repast you can tell me what you were doing at dawn. How strange to see you riding about in the shadows, holding on to what appeared to be a boy.”
Bile rose to his throat. “You surely saw another man. At dawn, I was in my chamber.”
“How curious. Is that where your clothes became so dusty?”
He glanced at the whitish streaks on his sleeves from the secret room.
She touched one quite daintily. “If you were in your bedchamber, why did you fail to answer my knock?”
He stared. “Why would you come to my door?”
“Why not?” She stroked his arm.
He backed away until the railing stopped him.
She blocked him from leaving, her hand trailing down the buttons on his doublet. “Who was the boy? Why were you with him instead of a woman? Unless he was a woman.” She tilted her head, studying him. “Tell me and I promise to keep your secret.”
“There is none.” He pushed her hand away.
She ignored the insult, her smile as shameless as ever. “Spend time with me today and I will make you forget everyone, man or—”
“Enough.” He brushed past and went down several steps before he faced her. “Stay away from me.”
Her smile finally faded into a ruthless glare. “Spurn me at your peril, Señor Don Enrique.”
He laughed. “Are you actually threatening me?”
“Advising. No man rejects Señorita Doña Luscinda.”
He’d been wrong about her. She, not her mamá, was the one to take care with. “Perhaps the time has come to meet the first man immune to your charms. Stay away. I warn you.”
He climbed the stairs two at a time, giving her no chance to retort. Luckily, guests who hadn’t drunk themselves senseless flowed down the staircase, greeting him and her, serving as a buffer and barrier. With so many about, he found it difficult to move more than a few feet before old friends and new acquaintances greeted him with a hearty good day, gaining his promise to visit their estates to hunt, fish, and discuss the political situation, including the Inquisition.
“Mark my words,” an outspoken young man said. “If the tribunal can confiscate merchant treasures, they will surely come for the nobility next.”
An older fellow scoffed, portly from too many years of fine food. “No one dares touch us.”
Enrique said little, barely following the converse before finding a chance to excuse himself. Upon reaching Sancha’s floor, he had to wait at the other end of the hall for two señoras to pass. They smiled sweetly at him. He offered a small bow in return. The moment their footfalls faded, he rushed to the chamber.
The room smelled of Sancha’s light fragrance.
He selected her undergarments and a pale yellow gown that would complement her coloring beautifully. With the clothing in hand, he searched the area for a satchel or sack. Failing, he pulled the blanket from her bed, dropped her things in the center, including shoes, then tied the ends to carry the lot.
Now all he had to do was dash through the corridors without running into anyone who might wonder what he was doing or ask if the blanket contained items for the boy he’d ridden with last night.
Of all the rotten luck to have Luscinda see what no one should. He didn’t want to consider what she might say to the others. None of them would believe he preferred males as some men did. His friends knew his appetite for women, having seen him make moves on countless señoritas. However, they might speculate on who the boy was and perhaps wonder where Sancha had been while he’d also been gone.
He’d yet to share one minute with her at his estate and already their time together seemed threatened.
With the way clear, he recalled the tour Isabella had given him, the castle having seemed like a maze at the time. After a few false starts, he finally found the back way to the hidden door. Muted voices sounded in the next hall with this one still empty. Taking no chance on anyone seeing him, he pressed the seam quickly and slipped inside total darkness.
Too late to return for a candle now and risk discovery.
Feeling his way down the steps took far too long. At length, black brightened to murky brown, candlelight guiding him to the room where he’d left Sancha.
“Forgive me for the delay.” He paused to catch a breath. “With everyone milling about wanting to speak, I had to—”
He stopped and turned a complete circle. “Sancha?”
She wasn’t in the shadows. He checked the other side of the table, thinking she might be on the chair, head down, fast asleep.
Not ther
e either, nor on the floor.
“Sancha!”
He searched everywhere, finding no hidden corridors other than the one he’d come down. She’d promised to stay here until he returned. Or had she? He thought back, realizing she’d nodded but hadn’t actually offered her word.
He lifted his face to the ceiling and thought of the areas above filled with guests, Luscinda, her mamá. Sancha dressed as a boy, possibly surrounded by everyone, while she tried to dodge their questions.
* * * *
Isabella held up her green gown adorned with tiny pearls. “This should do nicely. Fernando gave it to me the day we wed when he thought I was you.”
Sancha sat on the edge of Isabella’s mattress, sack hat in hand. Her tangled hair flowed over her shirt streaked with Maria’s blood and dust from the secret room.
Isabella regarded her closely. “Did your treatment go well?”
Sancha didn’t answer, concerned what she had to tell her sister.
Isabella sucked in a breath. “Oh no. The child died?”
“No. Not at all. I…”
“What?” Isabella joined her on the bed. “Tell me.”
She covered her eyes with her hand. “After your guests leave, Enrique plans to move my books and me to his castle.”
“Wonderful!” She hugged Sancha heartily, rocking her back and forth.
Isabella’s galgo, Diego, pushed his narrow snout between them.
“Diego.” She tried to be firm but was soon caressing the dog that licked her cheeks and chin. “You must give your mamá some peace. Go over there and wait.” She pointed to a bed of soft blankets created for the greyhound.
Once he’d obeyed her, she blew him a kiss. “Good boy.” She faced Sancha. “I knew Enrique would win you over. When do you plan to wed?”
She leaned away. “Never. I want no man ruling me, as you well know.”
Isabella made a face. “How can you live with Enrique if you refuse to wed him? A betrothal will never stop gossip.”
“There will be no betrothal either.”
“What—why? Wait.” Isabella shook her head. “As much as I love you, I could never leave Fernando to serve as chaperone for days, months, possibly years on end. My duty is here with him.”
“Mine is to protect both of you. Enrique pointed out how inconsiderate I was to bring my books here, exposing Fernando, you, and your unborn child to the Inquisition.”
Isabella sniffed. “No one would ever suspect me of witchcraft. I have no idea how to take care of any illness nor do I wish to learn. As to Fernando, why would anyone suspect such a great warrior, a knight with no equal?”
“Because of me. My thirst for knowledge and healing taints the entire family.”
She took Sancha’s hands and stared at the linen wrappings. “Why did you tell Enrique anything?”
“Confession was never my intent. He followed me to the village and saw what I do. You must have a word with Fernando about the peasants. They lack adequate food.”
“The village belongs to the noble who owns the adjacent estate.”
“Then Fernando must have a word with him.”
“Your worry about the peasants’ food led you to confess everything to Enrique?”
“No. One thing led to another and before I knew it, I was showing him my books in the secret room.”
Isabella grew thoughtful, nodding finally. “Did he kiss you?”
Sancha pulled her hands away. “Do you think of nothing but romance?”
“Someone has to. You surely give the matter no thought.”
“We kissed quite shamelessly.”
“I knew it.” Hands over her heart, she sighed. “Was it the most glorious moment in your life?”
Far better than that and best not repeated. Sancha rubbed her forehead wondering how she could avoid Enrique’s mouth, hands, passion, and her own when they were under the same roof with servants who would turn a blind eye even if he stripped her bare and took her on every available surface.
She held back a moan. “More thrilling than I ever imagined.”
“Wait till you lie with him.”
She rolled her eyes.
“You will.” Isabella wagged her finger. “From the moment Fernando kissed me, I found myself falling hopelessly in love, even though he belonged to you.”
“I never wanted him. Splendid warrior that he is.”
“Then everything worked out as it should. You and Enrique were meant to be together.”
She feared Isabella was right. Circumstances kept pushing them close as though fate wanted her to be a wife and mother rather than a healer. She should have been able to do both with none of her dreams so needlessly complicated and dangerous.
A sharp rap rattled the door. She flinched.
Grimacing, Isabella pushed to her feet. Sancha grabbed her hand. “Are you feeling all right? Is the infant giving you trouble?”
“Only when I awake. Afterward, I could battle any puto who dared threaten me or Fernando.”
“Best not to let your husband hear you utter that word.”
“He always forgives my indiscretions.” Isabella grinned. “As I said, we play games. If you only knew…”
Sancha hoped she never would, afraid Isabella’s tales might give her ideas when it came to Enrique. “Are you going to answer your door?” Whoever was on the other side had rapped again.
“I fear it may be Luscinda. She came here earlier looking for Enrique.”
“Why?”
“She has her eye on him. You best catch him while you can.”
At the rate their relationship was progressing, within a day or two they’d be so entwined and moaning merrily, no one would be able to separate them. Not even Luscinda.
Sancha had seen the young woman eye Enrique at the gathering. She remembered the cutting comments about her returning to the convent, how lucky she was not having to keep up with her appearance. She could become even uglier than she already was and no one would care.
She dug her nails more deeply into her palms. “If she gives you any trouble, leave her to me.”
“Aha, you do want Enrique.”
Of course she did, no matter how foolhardy her feelings were.
Isabella opened the door and growled. “Whatever do you want this time—Enrique?”
“You expected someone else?”
“Ah, no. Sancha is over there.” She pointed.
He stormed to her.
Sancha stood and backed away.
“Why did you leave the room?” He gestured wildly. “I looked everywhere for you.”
“You never returned. I had no choice but to leave.”
“Dressed as you are?” He lifted her blanket. “When I brought you this to wear?”
“Wait.” Isabella held up her hand. “You expect her to put on bedding when you rail about what she has on now?”
He looked over. “Do you mind? Your sister and I would like to be alone.”
“In Isabella’s room?” Sancha asked.
“You give me no choice. You fled before I could come back as I promised.”
“What kept you?” Isabella eyed the blanket. “Did you have trouble pulling the sheets off the bed?”
“How you jest.” He gave her a sour look. “Sancha’s gown and other items are inside. I came upon so many guests before I could get to your sister’s room, the greetings and converse nearly did me in.”
Sancha could imagine. “Was one of those guests Luscinda? Isabella said she came here asking where you were.”
His face went white.
Isabella didn’t see. She had her back to him as she closed the door. “Luscinda appears to want you quite badly. Of course, we know she has no chance for your heart.”
A faint blush tinted his cheeks, though not enough to restore his color.
Sancha’s stomach hurt. “What is it?”
“Luscinda stopped me on the stairway. She was the
one on the balcony earlier, not Isabella. She saw you with me.”
Isabella joined them. “What are you talking about? What were you doing?”
“Riding his horse.” Sancha spoke to him. “What did you say?”
“What else? I denied everything and left as quickly as I could.” He glanced at Isabella. “You may hear rumors. I trust you to handle them quickly.”
“Of course. If Luscinda says anything untoward concerning either of you, she will have to deal with me.”
“Not only her, everyone. Should anyone ask about Sancha in the coming days, tell them she stays here but is too ill to leave her bed. After a time, if questions arise again, say she remains at the convent.”
Isabella regarded Sancha. “How long are you planning to stay with him?”
“For as long as she wants,” Enrique said. “Forever, if things come to that. She always has my protection.”
Isabella exchanged a glance with her. Sancha chose not to comment.
After pulling apart the knots in the blanket, he gestured to the clothing inside. “Everything you require should be there for today’s journey. No need to take anything other than what you brought here, including your books. Once at my estate, tell me what you want and the item is yours.”
Including freedom to do as she willed without consulting him first?
“Give us a moment.” Isabella ushered him to the door.
He didn’t open it. “I want a promise neither of you will take off, forcing Fernando and me to chase after you.”
Isabella smiled dreamily. Sancha expected her sister to regale Enrique with those times she and Fernando had played the game.
At last, Isabella nodded. “Of course.”
“Yours too.”
Sancha inclined her head in agreement. “You have my word.”
“Wait till you see my castle. The grounds, the rooms. Everything will enchant you.”
She didn’t doubt his claim. She’d sat happily with him in a hovel that offered the barest necessities. When splendor surrounded them at his estate, those moments would certainly seem enchanting. Clearly, her resolve had to be strong.
“We can pack your books after everyone leaves. I promise to take care and will tell my servants to follow your directives in regards to them.”
