Page 121 of Bride By Mistake
His eyes flew open. “Bella!”
There she was, sitting on the edge of the bed, holding his hand, looking pale and worried but otherwise undamaged. At the sight of her sweet, anxious face, something in his chest clenched like a fist. He tried to sit up. “Did she hurt you?”
She pressed him back against the pillows. “Hush, don’t move. You’ll hurt yourself.”
He scanned her body frantically. “Dammit, did she getyou?”
She smoothed his brow. “No, my love, I am unhurt. It was you she shot.”
My love.The words, as well as the knowledge she was unhurt, seemed to ease the burning in his shoulder. And the ache in his chest. “That’s all right, then.”
“It’s not all right,” she began indignantly.
Luke scanned the room. “Where is the she-devil?”
“She’s dead.” Bella glanced at the oldmarqués.
He stood behind Bella, looking gray and somehow shriveled. “Lord Ripton, I apologize, most sincerely, for the actions of my wife.” The old man’s words were both formal and sincere, but underneath, he was shattered.
Luke’s anger that Bella had been endangered drained away. How could he blame this dignified old man for doing exactly what Luke had done? “Not your fault, sir,” Luke managed. “Destiny. Always gets you in the end.”
So she was dead. An end to it, at last.
“I killed my wife—no.” The old man corrected himself heavily. “I executed La Cuchilla myself.”
Not his wife: La Cuchilla. The simple statement held a great deal of pain. And humiliation. He’d loved his wife, but she’d betrayed him and he’d killed her. And now he was grieving.
Bella placed her hand over the old man’s. Themarquéswithdrew it with quiet dignity.
Pride. It could lead a man into the worst of mistakes, or carry him through the unthinkable.
“I’m sorry,” Luke said. He was tempted to lie back, close his eyes, let it all float away, but the stench of the past was bitter in his nostrils, and if he didn’t explain now, he suspected he never would. Besides, he owed an explanation to his wife and the old man. Luke had set the whole disaster in motion by coming here. He struggled to sit up. It was more difficult than he thought. He was weak as a kitten and every movement swamped his shoulder with liquid fire.
“Later. You need to rest,” Bella insisted.
“I’ll rest better once I get this off my chest.” Luke had heard confession was good for the soul. He hoped it was true.
“Very well, but make it quick. The doctor said you should rest.” She fussed around him for a moment, arranging pillows behind him, fetching him a glass of water, and making sure he was comfortable.
“It didn’t happen quite the way I told you,” Luke admitted when she was finished. “Michael and I both knew La Cuchilla seven years ago. Knew her quite well, in fact.”
“Youknew—”
“This was long before we were captured and tortured. We had no idea she was La Cuchilla, of course. We knew her asSeñoritaMartinez, Rosa Martinez, a Spanish lady. Michael was in love with her.” He met Bella’s gaze and added, “We both were. At least we thought so at the time.” Looking back, he could see it wasn’t love at all, but a heated, heady brew of lust, well spiced with danger and rivalry.
Luke grimaced. “We were young men at war, far from our homes and our families. We were young, impressionable, and lonely. And she was very beautiful.”
“She is still beautiful—or was.” The oldmarquéscrossed himself. “And she was very, very charming.”
Bella gave an unimpressed sniff. “So everybody fell in love with her. Go on with the story.”
Luke might have smiled at her caustic tone, but the prospect of confessing what he’d done weighed heavily on him. “Michael wanted to marry her. He’d actually proposed to her, had even spoken to his commanding officer, seeking permission to wed.”
“And you? Did you want to marry her, too?” Bella asked.
Luke shook his head. “No, not at all. I desired her, of course.” A cool statement for the white-hot blaze of lust Rosa Martinez had incited in him seven years ago. “But marriage never occurred to me—well, she wasn’t the kind of woman one marr—” He broke off and turned to themarqués. “My apologies, sir. I meant no offense.”
“None taken, Ripton. I knew Rosa was no innocent when I married her.” He made an expressive gesture. “Truth to tell, when a man gets to my age, he prefers a woman of some experience.”
