Page 41 of Devoted to the Spanish Duke
“That looks delicious,” he said.
She grinned at him, then produced another small sack and handed it over.
Lisandro opened it and took out a long object wrapped up in cloth. His nose picked up the scent in an instant. “Smoked cod?”
“Now we are truly back in Spain,” she said.
Lisandro leaned over and placed a soft kiss on her lips. “That we are.”
It may have been simple fare, but with Maria by his side, it was the best meal Lisandro had enjoyed in a long while.
The rain came an hour later, heralded by lightning and thunder. A cacophony of noise danced across the tiled roof of the barn. Fortunately, the horses seemed to be comfortable with the drama from the heavens and paid it no heed.
In their cozy corner of the barn, Lisandro and Maria huddled over a small lamp. It was the only source of light they dared use. They hadn’t seen anyone on the road for several hours, but they couldn’t risk being discovered. If they had been followed, a secluded barn in the middle of nowhere was the last place they wished to be found.
The very thought of Lisandro making good on his promise to fight to the death in order to protect her had Maria blinking back tears.
I can’t bear the thought of ever losing him. I love him.
He passed her the last of their remaining food. Maria wrapped it and placed it back into the bags, along with the rest of their provisions. Lisandro then carried them over to the saddles. Everything was ready just in case they had to make a hasty escape.
When he returned to her, Lisandro sat and took Maria in his arms. Using a pile of clean straw, she covered them to help keep warm. The barn was dry, and they were as comfortable as the circumstances would allow.
“We should try and get some sleep. I know the weather is bleak, but I want us to be on the road at first light,” he said.
She looked at him and smiled. “How far is it from here to Tolosa?”
“Somewhere around twenty-eight miles. The horses are both in good health and are capable of doing it. I know it will mean another long day in the saddle, but the sooner I can see the tower of my home, the better. I have men who can take up arms if required,” he replied.
Despite Lisandro’s suggestion, Maria didn’t want to sleep. Not just yet. The mention of his family home provided the perfect opportunity to engage him in conversation.
“Tell me about your home. I mean, what it means to you,” she said. She didn’t need him to describe the place; she would see it for herself soon enough. What Maria wanted to know was how it had helped to form the sort of man that Lisandro was—someone who looked beyond his estate to the rest of Spain.
Lisandro lifted the glass of the lamp and blew out the candle. They were plunged into darkness. The only source of light were the occasional flashes of far-off lightning as the thunderstorm moved away.
“I expect it is similar to yours in many respects. Crops, beans growing on hillside trellises. I have a small amount of wine grapes growing on the southern side of the estate. I intend to add some more sheep in the next year and go back to making cheese.”
A warm kiss touched her forehead and she sighed. “Go on.”
“My home is the reason why I got involved with the English during the war against France. I wanted Spain to be free of Napoleon, to be able to make its own decisions regarding the future,” he added.
Those were much the same words her father had said during the dark days of King Ferdinand’s exile in France. That a free Spain was what all of them wanted.
“But having the king once more on the throne is not going to achieve that. He has gone back on his word. The ordinary Spaniard has been left without hope or rights,” she said.
Her words were dangerous—some would say seditious. Traitorous. His silence was just as worrying. Had she just said something which could get her into further trouble?
You know men don’t like to hear women discuss politics.
“You should be careful about what you say, Maria. Ferdinand has already had many people arrested this year—writers and newspaper editors. He intends to crush any sort of opposition to his claim to absolute rule,” he replied.
“So, you would wish your future wife, whoever she is, to be silent when it comes to these sorts of matters?” she said.
In the inky night, it was impossible to read his face. His hand took hold of hers and soon soft kisses touched the palm of her hand. “No. But I would expect that she used careful judgment when it came to be expressing her opinions and with whom. There are dark days ahead for Spain. King Ferdinand is a capricious and vengeful man. There are courtiers who would seek to win his favor by telling him the names of those whispering words against him.”
“You were one of the people who helped bring him back to Spain. My father also,” she replied.
The reality of their situation set her mind on edge. Her father, too, had worked to restore the king to power, but now he was out of favor.
