Don't Bargain with the Devil (24 page)

 

Even knowing his friend baited him on purpose, Diego frowned as Rafael opened the door. “Will I have to stand guard the whole voyage?”

 

“I think not. I am sure I can find other…entertainment.” Rafael glanced inside to wink at someone there.

 

Diego spotted the buxom female awaiting them, her cheeks heavily rouged and her hair lying in loose ringlets about her shoulders. “
Qué demonios,
who is
she?
” he asked Rafael as he carried Lucy to the bed.

 

“The little heiress’s maid, of course. Gaspar hired her.”

 

Setting Lucy on the bed, Diego took another look at the pretty woman who stood watching them warily, clearly unable to understand their Spanish. A
maid
she most certainly was not. In any sense of the word.

 

“The next time I see that
cretino,
” Diego ground out, “I swear to God I will kill him.”

 

Rafael laughed as he swept his gaze down the woman’s lush body. “And I will thank him.”

 

That was when Lucy woke up.

 

 

 

ďťż

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Sixteen

 

 

 

 

Dear Cousin,

 

I awakened this morning feeling a vague unease, though I cannot put my finger on what has caused it. The school is quiet, there is no cause for alarm, and yet I am worried. Do forgive my mood, but I cannot shake the feeling that something has changed. I believe I shall close this letter now and go to breakfast. Being with the girls in the morning never fails to settle my nerves.

 

Your pensive relation,

 

Charlotte

 

 

L
ucy’s eyelids lay like lead, and her tongue swelled thick as cotton. The soft surface beneath her kept shifting. She remembered drinking wine. Could that have made her feel like this? No, she’d only had two glasses. She was almost sure of it.

 

She struggled to open her eyes, but it was too hard. Meanwhile, a murmur of voices filtered into her mind, male voices speaking Spanish, some of which she understood. The voice she didn’t recognize said something about “setting sail.”

 

Diego’s voice answered, “Go on, man.” Or that was what
she thought he said, anyway. It was hard to be sure with her mind so woolly.

 

Then Diego said in English, “Go fetch your new mistress some water, will you?”

 

A female voice answered. “I don’t know where to find—”

 

“Ask someone,” Diego said tersely. “And find her something to eat, too.”

 

Eat? Who was the woman? What did he mean by “new mistress”? And why were all these other people in Diego’s house in the middle of the night?

 

Forcing her eyes open, she caught sight of a swarthy-looking fellow walking out through the lowest doorway she’d ever seen in a house; he had to duck to pass through it.

 

She was certainly not in the parlor now.

 

No, it was a bedchamber, but smaller than what she’d expect at Rockhurst. And she could smell something. The sea? Yes, she was almost sure of it. Struggling to sit up, she looked for Diego, but he was distracted by a man dressed as a sailor carrying in a canvas bag. She glanced to her right, startled to see that the windows looked like portholes, and the room was swaying…

 

Good Lord.
“Diego Montalvo, you scoundrel!” she cried as she threw her legs over the side of the bed. “We are on a ship!”

 

Motioning the sailor out the door, he turned toward her, his eyes wary. “Yes. We’re on our way to Spain.”

 

She gaped at him. “You…you
took
me? Without asking? Without being sure that I—” She broke off as the fullness of his perfidy dawned on her. Ships did not come so far up the Thames as the school, and it would have taken hours to reach the Surrey docks.

 

“You
drugged
me, you wretched devil! You must have put something in my wine!”

 

His face was like stone. “A little laudanum, that’s all. I had no choice.”

 

“No choice!” She leaped from the bed, then nearly fell from dizziness.

 

With a stricken expression, he rushed over and urged her to sit back on the bed. “Stay where you are,
carińo.
You must rest until the drug leaves your blood.”

 

Batting his hands away in panic, she struggled to rise again, but the ship lurched, tossing her back onto the bed.

 

In an instant, she realized what that meant—the ship had set sail! “I am not going to rest, you…you kidnapper!”

 

She leaped up again, but this time Diego swept her up in his arms and sat down on the bed with her. “
Por Dios!
Calm down before you hurt yourself.”

 

“Let go of me!” She struggled against the arms that wrapped her like steel bands. “I must speak to the captain before we get under way!”

 

“You cannot.” Diego struggled to subdue her. “He is busy sailing the ship.”

 

“I know! That’s why I must see him
now,
curse you!” She elbowed him hard enough to make him release her.

 

But before she got more than a foot away, Diego yanked her back and threw her down onto the bed, then covered her body with the full weight of his. “Stop this madness!” He caught her wrists and pinioned them to the bed. “There is no point to it!”

 

“If I could just speak to the captain,” she cried, fighting futilely against the large body weighing her down, “I know he would turn the ship around!”

 

Remorse flashed briefly over Diego’s face, leaving only determination in its wake. “The captain is fully aware of the situation, and he is not stopping, for you or anyone else. So save your breath and your energy,
mi dulzura.
”

 

“I am not your sweetness!” she spat, tears welling in her eyes. “I am not your
anything!
” He had drugged her, for pity’s sake! And now he was dragging her to Spain against her will? “You have no right to do this!”

 

“Lucy, listen to me,” he said in a voice of maddening calm. “I know you want to meet your family, and I mean to make sure that you do.”

 

She stopped struggling and glared at him. “Get off me, you devil,” she said through gritted teeth.

 

“This will be easier for all of us if you just relax, enjoy the voyage, and prepare yourself to meet—”

 

“Enjoy the voy—” With rage surging through her, she bucked against him, trying to throw him off.

 

But he held fast.

 

Her eyes narrowed to slits. “Get. Off. Me. Or I swear that when I do meet my grandfather—
if
I meet my grandfather—I shall tell him that you held me down on a bed to have your wicked way with me.”

 

Diego paled. “You would not lie.”

 

“Try me.”

 

“Fine,” he growled. “I will let you up. But only if you promise not to run on deck to bother the captain.”

 

“Do
you
promise to bring him down here to talk to me?” she shot back. “So I can see if you’re telling the truth about his part in this…this madness?”

 

Diego actually had the audacity to look offended. “I do not lie.”

 

That enraged her further. “Oh, no? All that nonsense about the birth announcement? About abiding by my wishes? That was the truth?”

 

Diego flinched, then abruptly rolled off her. “Very well,” he said, his face taut with anger. “I will bring the captain here. As soon as he can leave his post.”

 

A woman who looked about eight years older than Lucy suddenly appeared in the doorway, carrying a tray and glancing anxiously from Diego to Lucy. “Beggin’ yer pardon, milord, but I brought food and some tea for the little miss.”

 

Aware of what she must look like sprawled on the bed, Lucy shot up to stare at the female with the flaming hair, wearing a low-cut gown and with lips so highly rouged Lucy was surprised they weren’t on fire. “Who are you?”

 

“Your lady’s maid,” Diego bit out. “As I told you, you have a chaperone.”

 

Lucy was completely taken aback. The woman looked as if she’d just emerged fresh from a tumble in the hay. Good Lord, this got worse by the moment!

 

This time, when Lucy stood to face Diego, she managed to stay on her feet. “You…you hired a…a ladybird to chaperone me?” She broke into hysterical laughter. “Oh, that’s rich!”

 

Diego winced, but before he could open his mouth, the woman spoke.

 

“Now see here, miss,” she said with a sniff as she hurried to the table to set down the tray, “I’m a respectable woman, I am. I worked at the Anchor Inn before that fellow Gaspar hired me, and I did a right proper job of dressing the ladies’ hair.” She paused. “When we had ladies, that is, which weren’t that often. Mostly we got sailors, and a gentleman or two. And one time—”

 

“Perhaps you should tell Miss Seton your name,” Diego cut in with a grimace that showed exactly what he thought of Gaspar’s choice of lady’s maid.

 

“Aye, you’re right, sir.” With an exaggerated curtsy, the woman shot Lucy a winsome smile. “Name’s Janet, Miss Seton, but most people call me Nettie.”

 

Lucy blinked. “You’re Scottish?” Nettie was a common Scottish nickname.

 

Nettie beamed and thrust out her chin. “I am indeed. That’s why the other fellow hired me. Said it might make you more comfortable to have one of your countrywomen about.”

 

Remembering the rumors she’d heard about Gaspar sweet-talking the school’s buxom cook, she arched an eyebrow. “
That’s
why he hired you?”

 

Her sarcasm was lost on the woman. “Well, that and the fact that there ain’t a true lady’s maid to be had for miles ’round, and he was in a tearing hurry to find someone to attend you on this trip.”

 

Nettie poured a cup of tea and brought it to Lucy, who refused it. With a shrug, Nettie drank it herself. “But I can do what they do—wash linens and iron yer clothes and take the spots out of muslin neat as you please. And I brought my paints, too, seeing as how you’re a lady and you might want some fixing up.” She edged nearer to examine Lucy’s face. “You could do with a bit of rouge, duckie, you’re that pale.”

 

“If I’m pale, it’s because of
him
!” Lucy stabbed one finger at Diego. She strode up to him, hands on her hips. “Where’s your fellow kidnapper? I’d like to thank him for providing me with such an able servant.” She could well imagine the extra duties Gaspar expected the tavern wench to perform for
him
on the voyage.

 

“Gaspar stayed behind.”

 

Lucy eyed him skeptically. “Why?”

 

He looked surprisingly discomfited. “To make sure no one follows us.”

 

That set her back on her feet. She hadn’t even thought of how this might be seen at the school. Her stomach roiled so badly she had to sit down to quell her nausea. She was ruined. Ruined! And all because Diego wanted to…to…to what? Why on earth would he go to such lengths for the
marqués?

 

Oh, she could well guess.

 

“How much is he paying you?” she whispered.

 

A flush rose in Diego’s cheeks. “What do you mean?”

 

“My grandfather must have paid you to do this. Otherwise, why would you risk it? They’ve got to be looking for me now, and it won’t take them long to guess who abducted me. And if they catch up to you, you’ll hang.”

 

“Actually, they think we eloped.” Diego looked decidedly guilty as he threaded his fingers through his hair. “You left a note, courtesy of Gaspar’s forgery skills. He stayed behind to make sure that anyone who considers pursuing you continues to think we eloped.”

 

As a powerful wave of fury swept through her, she jumped to her feet, her fists clenched. “So not only have you ruined me, but you made it look as if I leaped willingly into my own ruination! And when I return to England without you, they’ll say that’s what I get for running off with a Spanish magician who clearly only wanted my virtue. Who tossed me aside when he was done with me!”

 

“No!” he cried. “Once you’re in Spain—”

 

“I don’t want to
go
to Spain!” She snatched the teacup from Nettie’s hand and threw it at his head. He ducked,
and the cup smashed harmlessly against the wall, but he wasn’t so lucky when he straightened just in time to get a meat pie in the face.

 

If she hadn’t been so furious, she would have laughed at the picture he made, with bits of pastry and beef and little green peas dripping from his brow and mouth and cheeks.

 

Her anger intensified when he merely took out a handkerchief and began to wipe off the mess with an expression of wounded dignity. “We will continue this discussion when you can be rational,” he announced in that oh-so-haughty tone he used when he was being an idiot.

 

Ooh, if he thought she could ever be rational about
this
…With a cry of rage, she threw the plate at him. Unfortunately, it only hit the door as he slipped through.

 

When he had shut the door behind him, she threw herself at it, crying, “Come back here, you scoundrel! We are not done!” She grabbed the door handle and yanked it in a frenzy, but he’d locked it.

 

She beat on the door, tears finally rolling down her cheeks in a torrent of anger and betrayal and hurt. Diego had given her no choice. He’d wrenched her from her life
forever!
How could he?

 

For the next few moments, she was insensible of anything but her fury. She raged at Diego, then Gaspar, then the grandfather she hadn’t yet met.

 

Once her anger played out, she collapsed in a heap of tears on the floor. Would she ever see Papa again? Or Mrs. Harris? Or Lady Kerr? Oh, how she wished that she hadn’t carped at her stepmother the last time she’d seen her. She would give anything to have her here now, chiding her for anything she pleased.

 

That brought on more sobbing, until she was weeping so hard it made her ill. Wrapped in her misery, she jumped when a gentle hand touched her arm.

 

It was only Nettie. “There, there, miss. It can’t be so bad as all that, can it?”