Page 32 of Devoted to the Spanish Duke
Maria flinched at the unexpected question. She had made mention to Lisandro and his friends about the morning she was taken, but they had never fully discussed it. Other than having a sack thrown over her head and then being knocked out, she hadn’t thought there was much else to add.
While she searched her vague memories of that morning, Maria’s gaze drifted to the wooden deck of the ship. She focused on a nearby coil of rope, tracing the lines as they wound round and round.
“I saw him knocked down. He didn’t get back up. I thought at the time he might be dead, but Diego told you he was still alive, that he had recovered.” Lifting her head, she met Lisandro’s gaze. His face was still set hard. “You cannot be thinking what I think you are. That’s impossible.”
“Your brother believes his innocence too, but none of us can be certain what really did happen to him. The fact that Señor Perez was found wandering the beach in a daze later that morning has always raised questions in my mind,” he replied.
She shook her head in disbelief. How could a man she had known most of her life be involved in the plot to kidnap her? Her father trusted him. Had given him a position of great honor and responsibility within the dukedom.
“But they attacked him. I saw it,” she said.
The plea in her own voice had Maria putting a hand to her lips; she didn’t want to think the worst of Señor Perez. But why had he been so insistent on them taking a walk along the beach? And it had been his idea to go over to the boat and ask about clams.
Tears pricked her eyes as she drew in a shuddering breath. This didn’t make sense.
“Can I suggest that you saw what you were meant to see? I expect the blow was real but possibly not as hard as you might have thought. My experience of kidnappers is that they don’t usually stay their hand when it comes to innocent bystanders,” he said.
“I am not doubting you, but if this is possibly true then why didn’t you or Diego speak to my father? As far as I am aware, Señor Perez is still in a position of great power within Castle Villabona.”
The moment the words left her lips, realization dropped into her mind like a stone into a pond. Of course, no one had made a move to accuse Señor Perez of any wrongdoing. If he was indeed involved in her kidnapping, the last thing her family would want to do would be to put her in greater danger by having him arrested.
“Until we can get to the truth of the matter, we need to leave Señor Perez where he is. The man may be innocent. But if he is in league with the people who stole you, we must keep your rescue a secret for as long as we can,” replied Lisandro.
“And if he is innocent, we don’t want to go accusing a favored family advisor. Someone who has served not only my father, but his country,” she said.
The mere notion of having been betrayed by a man she considered a de facto uncle struck deep in her heart. She could only pray that Lisandro had the wrong of it, that someone else was behind it all.
But the seeds of suspicion and doubt had been sown.
A sense of great weariness settled over Maria, her only comfort coming when Lisandro reached out and drew her into his arms. With her head resting against his chest, she stared out over the dark blue waters of Portsmouth Harbor, barely noticing when the ship began to move. Being this close to Lisandro was as natural as breathing.
She had long thought about making it home to Castle Villabona. To what she had always thought was her one true place of safety. Now, with the worry over Señor Perez and other unseen foes, it no longer seemed such a refuge. She and Lisandro were moving from danger and possibly toward greater peril.
There are enemies in my father’s house.
As the English coastline slowly disappeared into the distance behind them, Maria turned to Lisandro. “Promise me something, will you? Tell me what is happening and when we are in real danger. If death is coming for me, I would like to know before it arrives.”
He took her hands in his and met her gaze. Steely resolve shone within his eyes.
“There are many miles between here and your home. Anything could happen to us on the road ahead. But I promise I will let you know the moment we are both about to die, because, Maria de Elizondo Garza, I will still be fighting to protect you as I take my very last breath.”
Chapter Eighteen
Three days later
Off the coast of France
The yacht, which was poetically namedNight Wind,was well provisioned. After Maria and Lisandro had enjoyed a supper of French cheese and bread, the captain brought them a bottle of burgundy and two tankards.
“The weather is fine tonight, so we could take these up on deck and enjoy watching the sun as it sets,” said Lisandro.
Maria smiled. “Yes, that would be lovely.”
She found herself smiling at him far too easily. Within the first day of their departure from England, they had settled into a comfortable, familiar routine.
During the day, if the sun was shining, they would sit up on the weather deck, talking to various members of the crew and, when he was not busy, the ship’s captain. Maria still privately grinned at the memory of the man’s face blushing bright red when she made mention of the yacht’s usual purpose for sailing to the continent. Anyone would think the captain had been completely oblivious to the fact that Gus used his private vessel for smuggling contraband into England.
Maria stopped as she reached the top of the ladder and took in a deep breath. The sea air was salty and invigorating.
