Page 122 of Bride By Mistake
Luke acknowledged the statement. He could appreciate that now. “She was experienced even then,” he said. “We were no match for her. Michael was determined to marry her, despite his commanding officer’s orders to the contrary. And I…” I was a fool for lust, Luke thought.
“And you?” Bella prompted.
Luke closed his eyes briefly. “Rosa chose me. She made it very clear she preferred me to Michael and she did everything she could to encourage my attentions.” From flirtatious behavior to plain speaking to…
“What did you do?” Bella asked.
“I tried to stay away from her.”
Her brows rose. “Even though you desired her and she wanted you?”
“Yes, of course. It was a point of honor. She was my friend’s beloved, and he had honorable intentions toward her—marriage, no less. So I tried to have nothing to do with her.”
“Rosa wouldn’t have liked being refused,” the oldmarquéssaid. “Especially by a handsome young man.”
“She didn’t,” Luke admitted. He ran a hand across his chin. “She redoubled her efforts. She used Michael to try and make me jealous, tried to play us off against each other.” He glanced at themarqués.“She kept building up Michael’s hopes and dreams, talking about their future together, but all the while, her attentions were aimed at me. And then, one night…” He swallowed. “One night…” It was damnably hard to spit out what he’d done.
“She seduced you.” Themarquéssaid it for him.
Luke nodded. “I woke up one night and she was… there, next to my bed.” Dressed in a black velvet cloak and wearing nothing under it. “I tried to send her away, but…”
“No man could have,” themarquéssaid bluntly. “Don’t blame yourself. How did the other boy react when he found out?”
The old guilt swamped Luke. “I should have told him, but… I couldn’t. It would have been like—I don’t know—like kicking a puppy. Michael was a believer. A dreamer. He thought Rosa was a saint, but he was the saint. He put women on a pedestal, to be worshipped from afar. He’d never even had a woman before: Rosa was his first.” Luke shook his head. “So I couldn’t tell him, couldn’t bring myself to tell him of the double betrayal, his friend and his betrothed.”
“So Rosa told him,” themarquéssaid.
Luke nodded.
“How?” Bella asked. “When?”
Luke looked at Bella. “I told you about the day we rode out after the briefing. It was Rosa we met on the road in apparent distress, so of course neither of us thought twice about stopping. In moments we were captured and the next thing we were imprisoned in a cottage. And being questioned about the information we carried,” he explained to themarqués.“We carried messages in our heads for the allied command.”
“And that’s when she told your friend?” Bella asked.
Luke nodded. “Yes, but only during the—while she was—”
“Torturing him,” Bella said grimly.
Luke nodded. “She used it to torture him—oh, she used her knife with wicked skill, but she also described what she and I had done together. In great detail.” His eyes were bleak and somber. “That’s the real reason Michael gave in, why he told her what she wanted to know. Because he had no will to resist. Because between us, La Cuchilla and I broke Michael’s heart.” His voice was harsh, scalding with self-recrimination, as he added, “I might not have betrayed my country, but I sure as hell betrayed my friend.”
Luke couldn’t bring himself to look at his wife or his host, knowing the condemnation he would see in their eyes.
“Of course you didn’t.” Bella slid her arms around him and rubbed her cheek gently against his chest. “That evilbitch was the one to blame, not you. You were her victim as much as Michael.”
Luke blinked. Absolution didn’t come as easily as that, surely?
“Exactly!” the oldmarquéssaid. “You only think that because your friend died and my w—La Cuchilla killed him. As she had killed many a good and true man before. That’s what she did, my boy. It was her particular skill, to find men’s weaknesses and exploit them. She was Michael’s weakness, Michael was yours. She tortured you both, that day, remember? And she didn’t only use her blade on you, either.”
Luke stared at the old man, struck by the truth of the old man’s words, yet still unwilling to believe.
Themarquéscontinued, “If it hadn’t been you, she would have seduced another of Michael’s friends—and of course you were seduced, do not pull that face at me! Who was just twenty, still wet behind the ears, and who was thirty and had no doubt had more men than you’d had hot dinners?” He patted Luke’s arm. “A pair of young, idealistic boys would have been putty in La Cuchilla’s hands. Don’t blame yourself over such a thing. Look at me, I am old and consider myself a man of the world, but I am just as foolish. More so—I married her.” He gave a humorless laugh. “To tell you the truth, I am heart-sore, but also… embarrassed.” He shook his head. “To marry my mortal enemy…” He contemplated hisfolly for a moment, then said as an afterthought, “And letme tell you, a young man’s heart doesn’t break so easily,not over an unfaithful woman. Perhaps, since you say your friend was young and naive, it was a painful awakening, butit would have happened anyway. It was inevitable.” He grimaced and added, “And better before the wedding than after it.”
He leaned forward and poked Luke firmly on his uninjured shoulder. “So cease this self-recrimination, young man, else it will poison your life. Terrible things happen in war, but the war is over. The dead cannot be brought back, but in the matter of La Cuchilla, justice has at last been done. Your friend is dead, but not at your hand or by your will, and he is revenged and will be at peace now. And you, my boy, are alive—spared again this very day! And you have this lovely young wife, so do not waste the gift that God has given you—live well and be happy.” He rose to his feet and said wearily, “Now, I must be off. I must bury my wife.” There was both grief and acceptance in his voice.
After themarquéshad left, Luke, dazed, turned to Isabella. “I’ve always blamed myself for Michael’s death. Now I don’t know what to think.”
“Don’t think,” she told him. “Sleep. You will feel better in the morning.”
