Page 85 of Twin Flames
Kill me now.
‘What will you have to drink, Cara?’ asked George.
‘Water would be great, thank you.’
‘Can’t I tempt you with a Pimm’s? It’s refreshing with the fruit and ice.’
‘Just a small one then. How kind of you. I’ve only just flown in, and I’m a little tired, so I’d better not drink much,’ she garbled, barely knowing which words spilt out of her mouth.
‘Of course. You said you were here on some kind of business? How may I help? I’ll just grab our drinks, and then we can talk. Kate, take good care of Cara, introduce her to everyone, my love.’
The endearment pierced Cara to the core. George returned with the drinks, Kate reached for hers, their fingers touched, and her slender hand encircled the glass. Cara noticed she wore both an engagement and wedding ring. They were married. Obviously, they were. She must have been insane to come herelike this. Not for the first time, she cursed her impetuous nature. Why couldn’t she be slow and sensible? Cara looked at George’s hands. They were suntanned, his fingers bare. But these days that meant nothing. Men often didn’t wear wedding rings.
She had to get away from here. She shouldn’t have come. Cara took a sip of the Pimm’s and tried to be nonchalant but felt as though she was drowning.
‘May I use the bathroom, please?’ she said, desperately thinking of a way to excuse herself.
She went to the bathroom, splashed cold water onto her hot cheeks and tried to calm down. She had to get out of here. It would be rude to leave now, but she couldn’t face George and Kate again. She’d come to find the truth, and she had. It was all the more devastating because she’d allowed herself to hope.
Closing the bathroom door quietly behind her, she rushed down the steps, made a dash for the front door and slipped outside into the bright sunshine. There was no reason to stay.
CHAPTER 26
Madrid, 1840
After a long and arduous voyage, Cara and George arrived in Madrid.
The air was unseasonably humid for this time of year, remarked George’s old friend, Sebastian. He was the issue of a Spanish mother and an English father and did his utmost to capitalise on his unique heritage.
A couple of days after their arrival, over a late supper, Sebastian filled them in on political events.
‘I don’t believe we’ve seen the end of the civil wars,’ he said.
George was surprised how well-informed Queen Victoria was; he hadn’t yet gleaned anything new.
The Carlist victory had elevated General Espartero to power. The former regent, Maria Cristina: Isabella, the child queen’s mother, had been forced to name the general as president of the government. The pendulum had swung again, and the repercussions could prove fatal for those who fell on the wrong side. They must be cautious, Sebastian warned.
Madrid was a vibrant and exhilarating place, but the tension was palpable. Cara sensed that people viewed them with suspicion, and it took the fun out of exploring the beautiful city. Sebastian had warned them upon arrival that it was unlikely they’d be received warmly by the general after Her Majesty’s government had openly backed the regent.
Maria Cristina had fled, and as Sebastian predicted, George’s request for an audience with the general was rebuffed with no apology. The general was apparently detained on urgent business for the foreseeable future, and the official word was that no audiences were to be granted. Spain was still in a state of war.
‘Britannia may well rule the waves, but she doesn’t rule Spain, old boy. My advice to you is to keep a low profile while you’re in Madrid, and then continue on to Seville as soon as possible, without attracting undue attention. You’ll have more freedom to come and go as you please; it’s a different mentality. In Madrid, we are watched. I have a love-hate relationship with this city.’
‘Why don’t you come back to England? You’d be able to live a peaceful life in London without all of this subterfuge. You have a residence there, do you not?’
‘Yes, I do indeed, and I will visit again soon. But Spain is my home. I will not forsake her. England is like a dull, predictable wife, and Spain my exotic mistress. She’s the love of my life and knows how to hold me effortlessly.’
‘You old Spanish romantic, you. I can’t say that Madrid has seduced me, but I have great hopes of falling in love with Seville. Perhaps I’ll find my exotic mistress there,’ laughed George.
‘I’ll believe that when I see it,’ said Sebastian. ‘I’ve never known a man more besotted than you are with your new wife.’
‘Ah, yes. It’s true. I won’t deny it. I’m a lucky man indeed. She’s the only woman I want. Like you and your fierce loyalty to Spain, my dear fellow.’
‘I envy your steadfastness in love. Us Spaniards are too—how do they say in England—flighty?’
‘Yes, you are a fickle lover Sebastian. I’ve lost count of all the women you’ve been ready to die for in the time we’ve known each other.’
George and his old friend sat and reminisced over a couple of glasses of wine after Cara retired to bed.
