Page 6 of Devoted to the Spanish Duke
The man gave a cheery grin, then nodded. “Yes. Yes, we have clams. Come. Come see.”
He motioned for her to come closer to the boat, but the water made her hesitate. Wet skirts would surely earn her a scolding from her mother.
“Bring the pots over onto the sand,” said Señor Perez. Putting his hand into his jacket pocket, he withdrew a handful of coins. The money quickly had the desired effect, and two large pots were lifted over the side of the boat and carried to where Maria and he stood.
Several more of the fishermen now came ashore, but two remained with the boat. They began to drag it back out into the water.
Maria leaned over the first of the pots. “These look good. They—”
Strong arms wrapped about her waist. She was jerked violently off her feet.
“What are you doing? Unhand me this instant!” She kicked and squirmed, fighting for release. But the man who held her only tightened his grip. With her arms pinned hard against her body, she struggled to make any headway against her captor.
“Señor Perez help me!” she cried.
Her friend stepped forward his hand raised. “Please no!” he pleaded.
A large black cudgel quickly silenced him. He collapsed onto the sand, unconscious.
Maria screamed.
The wind swiftly carried her protests away. Then a huge, rough hand came over her mouth, ending any further chance she had to cry for help.
Her abductor was strong, her continued efforts to gain release achieving nothing more than to tire herself. From out of the group of fishermen, another man appeared. She whimpered at the sight of his badly scarred face. From the way he spoke, it was obvious Spanish was not his first language. Maria caught snippets of words which she knew to be English.
In his hands he held a large brown hessian sack. As he lifted it up and placed it over her head, all her hope fled.
“Get her in the bloody boat!” he bellowed.
Maria fought one last desperate time, lashing out with her feet. Her boot connected with a body, and a cry of pain was her reward.
She didn’t get another chance to strike as a sudden sharp jolt of agony tore through her brain. Her world spun sickeningly, and she knew no more.
Chapter Three
Two weeks later
Castle Tolosa, Spain
At the top of the ridge, Lisandro pulled back on the reins of his gray Barb and the horse slowed to a gentle walk. It was mid-morning on another fine day at his family’s estate.
In the field below him, his workers were busy preparing the soil for the new wheat crop which would be planted at month’s end. The strains of an old Spanish folk song drifted to his ears and he smiled. Somewhere down there was his leading hand, Manuel, happily entertaining everyone while they worked.
The horse came to a stop, and Lisandro sat back in the saddle, lifting his face to the sun. “La bendición de Dios,” he whispered. This truly was a country blessed by God.
Spain was at peace. The war with France over. The only gray clouds on his horizon were the rumblings of discontent over the return of King Ferdinand. Lisandro privately hoped his country would not come to civil war, but the king was proving himself the worst of monarchs.
But for the time being, Lisandro was home and working to make the Tolosa estate financially strong once more. He had neglected things while away at war. Put his own life on hold while fighting to free his country of the influence of Napoleon.
Time at home had him thinking about many things, especially his future.
He was lonely. His bed was empty. Lisandro ached for someone whom he could share his life with and raise a family. A special woman to hold his heart. A wife.
Finding the right woman was proving more difficult than he had expected.
Such a pity that the beauty at that ball was Maria de Elizondo Garza. If she were anyone else, she would have been perfect.
A small cloud of dust on the road caught his eye, stirring him from his thoughts. Lisandro scowled. Few travelers ventured off the main thoroughfare, which ran through the old town of Tolosa on its way to the coast. This was a sleepy part of the world.
