Passionate Pursuit (23 page)

If only Fernando had waited a few weeks until she had her gowns. She didn’t want to embarrass Tomás with her poor clothes and wild hair. Wind pushed the locks into her cheeks and forehead.

“There.” He pointed at torchlight on the dark path. “He—wait. Fernando arrived in a carriage? Could he be ill? Why else would he be riding in that thing rather than on his Arabian?”

She shrugged.

The conveyance pulled close and stopped near the guards, each man holding a torch.

Tomás ran to the carriage. “Fernando!”

The door popped open. A man nearly as handsome as Tomás stepped out, hair dark, skin bronze, his doublet and robe a rich brown in the torchlight. He grinned. “How are you little brother?” He hugged Tomás, then tried to swing him around as one would a child.

Tomás punched Fernando’s shoulder.

Fernando laughed.

Tomás glowered. “How are you, besides trying to prove your waning strength? Are you so feeble now you have to ride in a carriage like a woman?”

From inside the conveyance, a woman asked, “What did you say?”

Fernando elbowed Tomás. “Watch your tongue around my wife and daughter.”

Oh no, he’d brought his entire family.

With Fernando’s assistance, Isabella left the carriage next, her skin milky and flawless, features exquisite, clothing worthy of a queen. Her gown was the finest blue silk trimmed with gold embroidery and beads. A large sapphire hung from a silver chain about her neck.

Isabella hugged Tomás. Spotting Beatriz, she grinned, her eyes sparkling, their color too pale to be brown. “Release me at once.” She slapped his shoulder. “I want to meet the woman who finally tamed you.”

Fernando smiled at Beatriz. Tomás held out his hand for her to join them.

Her legs weakened, her stomach even more unsettled at meeting anyone when she looked so dreadful.

Fierce pride and love filled Tomás’s smile. After taking her hand, he presented her. “Fernando, Isabella, this is Beatriz González y Serrano. She is lovelier than a summer’s day, fresher than a morning breeze, more passionate than—”

“You are exquisite.” Fernando kissed Beatriz’s knuckles. “How could a woman as perfect as you have given my brother a glance? Look at him.”

Tomás’s hair wiggled in the wind, the same as his linen shirt. His dark hose revealed his powerful build.

Beatriz’s legs weakened even more. “I have never seen a more splendid man. Look at me.” She gestured to her poor clothes.

Isabella fingered the lace-trimmed kirtle that reached her throat. “You should have seen how I used to dress. When Fernando escorted me across the countryside from Granada, where I was held prisoner for sale to the harem, before he rescued me, of course, he had me—”

“Rescue? Harem?”

Isabella nodded. Auburn tresses bobbed against her cheeks. “My uncle, the puto, had—”

“Wife.” Fernando pinched his nose. “We have spoken repeatedly about that word.”

“Forgive me.” She bent her head to Beatriz. “My uncle wanted Sancha kidnapped, not me. The fiends who carried out my uncle’s orders had no idea they took the wrong woman. I ended up in Granada, with the Sultan’s eunuch about to purchase me, when Fernando came to my rescue. Do you know about fakirs? I have never seen anything more incredible. Juggling hot coals, breathing fire. Fernando stunned the crowd. Me too. But I had to keep my wits about me to escape with him to Spain.” She paused to breathe. “Once we were back in our beloved country, he had me dress as a boy to avoid notice. Of course, there were thieves and brutes everywhere. At one point, I took his sword and had to save his life.”

Stunned, Beatriz looked at Fernando.

He gazed at his wife with boundless love. “Isabella was magnificent.”

She beamed. “If I can dress as a boy, you can surely wear whatever you want.”

“At the moment, she has what she wears now and livery.” Tomás shrugged. “We ordered dozens of gowns. I wanted a hundred or more, but Beatriz declined so many. The garments have yet to arrive.”

Isabella smiled at her. “I have several with me. You can have whichever you want.”

“Oh no. You offer too much.”

“I insist. We can go through them while Fernando and Tomás discuss Spain’s latest battle with the Moors and Pedro’s role in the conflict.”

Tomás leaned toward Beatriz. “Another brother you must meet. He took over my command.” He glanced at Fernando. “Have you heard from him?”

“He sent a missive the other day saying all is well. The one he wrote to you will probably come shortly.”

“Good.”

A thin wail sounded followed by mewling and then a piercing cry.

“Juana.” Isabella frowned at Fernando and Tomás. “You men were speaking too loudly and woke her.” She smiled at Beatriz. “Would you care to see our daughter?”

She nodded.

Fernando helped a servant from the carriage, an older woman with a kind face. Juana shrieked. The gold blanket covering her flapped from her flailing limbs.

With the infant safely in her arms, Isabella presented her daughter.

Beatriz pressed her hands to her chest. The little girl was exquisite. She had her father’s dark hair, her mother’s light eyes. Her scrunched face and reddened skin spoke of her unhappiness, how helpless she was.

No different than Beatriz had been growing up, though Juana’s future would be far different.

Isabella bounced the infant lightly. Juana refused to settle. “She must be hungry. Is there a place where I can feed my daughter in private?”

Tomás stroked the babe’s cheek. “Beatriz will take you to our finest bedchamber.”

She brought Isabella to the one Señora Cisneros had always cleaned in case an important guest arrived. More than one servant had said the housekeeper hoped the monarchs would drop in since they’d moved the court to Jaen.

The bedchamber was larger than the one Tomás had chosen for his own, wall hangings and carpets sumptuous, furniture heavy and dark with breathtaking designs carved into the wood. Three windows, rather than two, faced the lawn leading to the harem. After lighting numerous candles, Beatriz opened the wooden screens to air the room.

“How beautiful.” Isabella turned a slow circle, taking everything in. “When Fernando and I were on our journey to my papá’s castle, after we escaped Granada, we would have enjoyed such a chamber. The places where we stayed were loathsome but fun.” She grinned.

Beatriz liked her already. “Someday, I want you to tell me the whole story.”

“I will.” She sank into a box chair near the bed and undid her top. Juana cried piteously until she latched on to her mother’s breast.

“Ah.” Isabella sighed. “Peace at last.”

Beatriz leaned closer. “Your eyes are blue-green.” The color unbelievable in the candlelight. “How amazing.”

“Fernando likes them. What of you and Tomás? Have you decided when to wed?”

She sat on the mattress. “Do you know about my papá and Don Larnaz?”

“Tomás told us everything in his missive. Is there no way your father can soften his position in this? Clearly, Don Larnaz is a puto. Say nothing to Fernando about me using the word. He forbids me to do so constantly. I do anyway and beg his forgiveness, after which, he grants me his grace. We go in circles constantly.”

Beatriz laughed. “Whatever you say in here is our secret.”

“I knew I would like you. About you wedding Tomás, surely your union would put a stop to Don Larnaz’s claim.”

“If we post banns, he or Papá could voice their objections. They may be able to stop us. What we need is to wed without notice and in secret the same as Sancha and Enrique. The monarchs too.”

“You can include me and Fernando. Another tale I must tell you someday. Do you know a sacerdote who will wed you in secret?”

“No.” Beatriz hid her disappointment. “We were going to ask you and Fernando. Enrique already wrote saying his friend Dominico was away with the soldiers in the newest conflict.”

Isabella chewed her lip. “I know of no others. Are you lying with Tomás? Forgive me for being bold, but are you?”

Beatriz’s face stung with heat. She wanted to lie but nodded.

“Well then. When you conceive, Don Larnaz and your papá will have to leave you alone.”

“I fear not.” Beatriz explained the situation to Isabella.

Juana stirred and grew fussy. Isabella stroked her daughter’s cheek, cooing until the infant had settled. “Don Larnaz is worse than a puto. He would raise another man’s child to have your father’s wealth? Tomás would never allow anyone to take his son or daughter from him.”

“I know. I worry for his safety.”

“The marquis reminds me of my uncle, Don Rodrigo. Soft, yet cunning. I kept telling Fernando the man would strike and he did, nearly killing Fernando.”

The room spun. Beatriz gripped the counterpane. “I worry Don Larnaz will try to waylay Tomás somehow. I would rather he forget me than be in danger.”

“I saw how he looks at you. Giving up that kind of love would never be possible for him.”

A gentle knock sounded on the door.

“Most likely a servant with my trunk.” Isabella adjusted herself in the chair. “Juana will finish her meal in a moment. Once my things are in here, we can work on a plan to fix your and Tomás’s problem while you choose one of my gowns.”

* * * *

Tomás was on his second goblet of wine, ready for his third.

Fernando shook his head. “No matter how many times you ask, I know of no sacerdote other than Dominico and the fool who came to the fortaleza.”

“There must be one priest in Spain I can bribe to wed Beatriz and me as quickly as possible without banns. When did money stop talking in Spain?”

“Never, as far as I know. Why not wait to see what happens when Nuncio returns from speaking with her father? He may have good news. When do you expect him?”

“I hoped for today before dusk. Señor Serrano must have delayed him to the point Nuncio and the guards had to spend the night. Given what Beatriz says, only harm comes from her father.”

Fernando sat back in his chair, legs crossed at the ankles. “Isabella said the same about her uncle.”

“You failed to heed her advice and nearly died.”

Fernando frowned. “Would her papá actually do bodily harm to have you out of the way? Once you wed her—”

“A widow is always free to marry again, no?”

“Are you serious? If the man is mad enough to try to kill you for marrying his daughter, why are you racing to the altar?”

“For the same reason you did with Isabella. I love Beatriz.”

“I know, but why not settle this with him first? Persuade her father to see things your way. You have noble blood running through your veins, the same as Larnaz. Our family has connections at court. Sancha does too. Everything he could want is his for the asking.”

“Except the title of marquis for his son-in-law, the one thing Larnaz can give him that I never can. Although being a prince may seem nice, not all will become king.”

Fernando finished his wine and filled his goblet again. “Perhaps you should think this out before you make a hasty decision.”

“If you mean in wedding Beatriz, I have no time to waste.”

“Why?”

“If I delay my union with her, I may lose her forever. Beatriz already fears what her papá may do if we stay together. She ran from him. She would run from this castle too in order to keep me safe. She might even go back to her father and agree to wed Larnaz to protect me. I have to find a way to make our marriage happen quickly or it may not happen at all.”

* * * *

The gowns in Isabella’s trunk were plentiful, beautiful, and in a rainbow of colors with beads, pearls, or intricate embroidery embellishing each.

Isabella gestured Beatriz over. “Help me unpack these so you can try them on.”

“Do you mind if Yolanda takes the gowns out? I just hired her as my personal maid. Seeing these would thrill her.”

“Is this her first time assisting a lady?”

Beatriz nearly laughed. “She began here as a scullery maid, hoping to gut animals next.”

“A curious path to take in becoming a personal maid.”

“Yolanda came from the village. She never complains or stops working. Keeping up with her is impossible, even though she has yet to turn thirteen. She has a fine mind too. I promised to teach her to read and write.”

Affection flooded Isabella’s face. “Your love for her shines through. I feel the same about my sisters, especially Sancha. Of course, Yolanda should handle my gowns. She sounds delightful.”

Beatriz called her in.

Yolanda gaped at the lovely clothes and Isabella. “You want me to touch these?”

“And lay them on the bed, please. That way, Beatriz can see which one she likes best.”

As quick as Yolanda had been with every task in the past, she took a painfully long time putting the first gown on the mattress. The dress might have been made of glass, capable of shattering into a million pieces.

“Well done.” Isabella leaned toward Beatriz. “What an adorable child. I like her.”

“I knew you would.” She wrapped her arm around Isabella’s waist. “Help me keep Tomás safe.”

“Nothing else will do. That and you wedding him. We will find a way, I promise.”

With Isabella and Yolanda’s help, Beatriz chose a plum-colored gown. Silver embroidery and tiny pearls adorned the silk.

Yolanda clapped. “Even the queen would envy you in this.”

“That she would.” Isabella handed her sleeping daughter to the servant, waiting until she left before motioning Beatriz over. “Wait until you get to court and see what the other women wear.”

Only if life with Tomás allowed them to leave the safety here and enjoy each other as a married couple. A simple notion so seemingly out of reach.

Isabella took her hands. “How sad you look. Once you have the gown on and I fix your hair, your mood will improve.”

“Not until I have the answers I need about Tomás’s and my situation.”

“You remind me of myself when I tried to keep Fernando from my uncle before the puto could…oh my.” She glanced at Yolanda.

She was all eyes, expression rapt.

Isabella smiled. “Can you bring us water, a cloth, and scented oil?”