Passionate Pursuit (26 page)

“Might? Did you ask her why such a delay?”

Nuncio straightened even more, looking appalled. “Not my place. I thanked her and waited with the guards.”

Fernando pulled chairs close for himself and Isabella.

Nuncio turned to Beatriz. “When night fell without your father giving us a chance to visit, his housekeeper asked us to leave, saying we could return on the morrow if we wanted. The guards and I spent the first evening at Señor Don Martin’s home.” He glanced at Tomás. “He was gracious enough to have his cook put out a feast. None of us had eaten since morning. He wants you to visit him soon to hunt and ride.”

Beatriz asked, “What happened the second day?”

“More of the same. The housekeeper said we would have to wait. We did, and spent the night at Señor Don Luys’s home.”

Isabella gestured impatiently. “And the third day?”

“Upon our arrival, the housekeeper said I could finally see Señor Serrano, though he and I would speak in his bedchamber. She explained he was quite ill, had been for weeks, and I should—”

“Wait.” Beatriz’s suspicions increased. “Weeks? No. Impossible. Don Larnaz made no mention of illness when he was here. Why keep such a thing secret when he could have used the information to sway me?”

Tomás squeezed her shoulder. “He might not have been aware of your father’s declining health. Once Rufio told him where you were, Don Larnaz may have come here immediately without telling your papá first.”

Reasonable, yet she couldn’t shake her doubt. “Given what they both had to lose with me remaining out of reach, one would think they would have met at regular intervals.”

“Don Larnaz may have deliberately stayed away from your father,” Fernando said. “Afraid he might have wanted the dowry back.”

Isabella nodded. “The pu—ah, the beast may have already spent the money.”

Beatriz wasn’t certain what to think. She gestured to Nuncio. “Go on.”

“The housekeeper said if I pressed Señor Serrano in any way, I would have to leave.” His face flushed suddenly. “I must confess I did ask her what was wrong with him. Coward that I am, I feared catching something, though I would have still marched into his bedchamber.”

Tomás clamped him on the shoulder. “Good man.”

Beatriz nodded. “Did she say what afflicts him?”

“The physician told her mortal weakness. He had no other name for what ails your father. He has no strength. Even a few steps cause him to gasp for breath. At times, he had pains here.” Nuncio pointed to his chest. “And here.” He grasped his left arm near the top.

She’d never heard of such a thing. “Have any of you seen this illness?”

Tomás and Fernando shook their heads.

So did Isabella. “If only my sister were here. Sancha could—” She glanced at Nuncio.

“We can trust him,” Beatriz said.

“Sancha’s books tell of every disorder known to man. All she has to do is look up symptoms.”

Beatriz considered that. “If there are none in her volumes, then the disease is a ruse.”

“Why not write her and know for sure?” Tomás asked.

“I will. Nuncio, how did my father look and sound?”

“Forgive me for offering my opinion, but his distress seemed real to me.”

“So did his tears at my mother’s deathbed. The moment the physician left, he was fine, looking at her cold body with annoyance, eager to get back to his business. A good man like you would never do what my father has, making you blind to the person he is.”

“That may be, but I saw him.” Nuncio glanced from one to the other. “Even though I have many years on the man, he looked worse than I do, his complexion gray, lips pale. He struggled for breath, saying only a few words before he had to rest. His hands shook so badly when he held the missive, I ended up reading the letter. At times, he gritted his teeth and his face turned red. Not from anger. Pain. I thought he was going to die before my eyes. I begged him to tell me how to help or if his housekeeper should send for the physician. He held up his hand and shook his head.

“My heart kept pounding. I held my breath and waited for the worst. The pain finally passed. He slumped against his pillows and told me to continue reading. I could barely see the words my hands were trembling so much.”

Beatriz wasn’t certain what to think.

Tomás leaned over to Fernando. “When you spied for Spain, would you have been able to look and act as Beatriz’s father had to fool anyone?”

“Of course,” Isabella said before Fernando could. “When I first saw him, he seemed older than Nuncio, speaking and tottering like a frail old man, until he bolted through the marketplace, pulling me with him.” She smiled. “He was magnificent.”

Fernando’s cheeks darkened slightly. He and Isabella shared a private glance and bumped shoulders.

“I could have easily pulled off such an act,” Fernando said to Tomás. “If this is one.” He looked around Isabella to Beatriz. “Your father is far older than I am. His illness may be real.”

Nuncio nodded. “What I saw was no act.”

Beatriz took Tomás’s hand. “What do you think?”

“Has your father ever been ill before?”

“Not a day in his life.”

Nuncio sighed. “What would he gain from such an act?”

“My guilt for having caused him to fall ill by running away, followed by my agreement to finally wed Don Larnaz so he recovers.”

Nuncio wrinkled his nose. “No man could be that loathsome.”

“My uncle was.” Hatred filled Isabella’s beautiful face. “He resorted to murder, killing my parents.”

Beatriz patted Nuncio’s hand. “See how easily Papá swayed you?”

He reddened. “I thought—your father seemed—I would never want any harm to come to you or Don Tomás. Nor would I want to influence you with my perception of what I saw and heard. Please excuse me for saying this, but if the man were my father, I would want to know for certain whether his illness is real or not before I decided to let him die without ever seeing him again.”

Beatriz sagged in her chair.

“I can write Sancha immediately.” Isabella stroked Beatriz’s arm. “Once she answers my missive, we have our answer.”

Unless something else came up, confusing the matter further. “Did he ask about me at all?”

“He wanted to know if you were happy now. I told him never have I seen anyone more in love. Your father grew thoughtful, then said he understood your feelings for Don Tomás.”

Hard to believe unless he was truly ill and wanted to make amends for what he’d done before facing God. She tried to imagine such a thing but still couldn’t. Her father wasn’t a pious man. “He knows nothing about Tomás. Did he ask about him or mention Don Larnaz? Wait. Was he surprised I was living here?”

“He was or seemed to be. I wish I could be sure, but he appeared surprised to me.”

“Why would he agree to speak with you if he had no idea who you were or that I was here?”

“I told the housekeeper I was there concerning you and Don Tomás.”

“Did my father ask who Tomás was? Where he hailed from? His family connections?”

“No.” Nuncio leaned up. “Every word he spoke tired him, or seemed to. I sensed he wanted to say more but lacked strength. After I read the missive to him, he had all the information he needed.”

Tomás squeezed her shoulder. “You, Isabella, and Nuncio should go to my study and get started on the letter. I can send two guards out tonight. They can easily reach Enrique’s castle by dawn. The faster Sancha knows what we need, the sooner we have answers. Possibly by tomorrow evening.”

Isabella shook her head. “Not likely. She has dozens of volumes. Finding the illness may take some time.” She stood and took Beatriz’s hand. “Best we not delay. Nuncio.” She gestured to him. They left the parlor.

* * * *

“Out with it,” Fernando said the moment he and Tomás were alone. “Do you think this is a ruse by her father?”

Given what Beatriz had said about the man, and what Isabella’s uncle had done to her and Sancha, Tomás supposed anything was possible. How to know for certain, though? “I should have gone rather than sending Nuncio.”

“Why did you send him?”

“If I had left to speak to her father, Beatriz might not have been here when I returned.”

“Or
if
you returned, considering what she said about him. Where would she have gone?”

“Anywhere in the world except here in order to protect me from her father.”

“I suspect she would have headed for the next estate within walking distance.”

“Exactly, with Beatriz meeting the noble there, him falling in love with her, convincing her they should wed and have children. What chance would I have then?”

“As many as you have now. Even if she somehow reached a farther estate, a three or five-day ride would get you there from here. Who could fall in love, wed, and have children in that time?”

Tomás leaned against the mantel. “I know Beatriz. Her first thought would be hiding out to keep me from finding her and putting myself in danger. Enough of this. I should go to the city now and see what he might be up to.”

“And possibly put yourself in danger exactly as she fears. Are you hoping Isabella and I could keep Beatriz in this castle once she knows you left? Trust me, Isabella would side with her, forcing me to go along with whatever they wanted. Welcome to falling in love and considering a woman’s feelings rather than your own. Why not wait for Sancha’s answer?”

“What if Beatriz’s father dies while I do and she misses her last chance to see him? No matter what went on between them, the man will always be her papá.”

“Clearly not in the way she needed or wanted. Are you worried about her feeling guilty?”

“What else? His death would always hang over our marriage if I failed to act. What if she and I went to his house together?”

“How? With her shackled and gagged in the carriage? You know her better than I do, but she strikes me as not wanting to be anywhere near the man.”

“There must be some way to settle this.”

Isabella entered the room.

Tomás pushed away from the mantel. “Has something happened?”

“I need to speak to my husband.” She stopped at Fernando’s side, cupped her hand over his ear, and whispered.

After she stepped back, he sighed but nodded.

“Gracias.” She kissed him lightly on his mouth and flicked her hand at Tomás. “Go on.” She left the room.

Tomás asked, “Want to tell me what that was about?”

Fernando lifted his finger until Isabella’s footfalls had faded. “She said not to let you talk me into visiting Beatriz’s father with you, nor to let you go alone. Beatriz wants you safe. If either of us leaves, she promises to go to Don Larnaz and offer herself to him to settle this once and for all.”

* * * *

The guards departed with Isabella’s missive, leaving Beatriz to wait for Sancha’s answer and to listen to Tomás rail at her in his study.

“How dare you threaten to go to that pig, that swine, that puto to keep me from leaving here and going to your father.”

“I love you.”

He pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead. “This is how you show your devotion by promising to offer yourself to that beast, that monster.”

“Only to stop you from behaving recklessly, as you well know.”

“Now you claim I have no sense. How nice. Is that why you sought to humiliate me in front of my brother?”

“Humiliate you? Have you forgotten Fernando learned from a servant, not Isabella, that he wed the wrong sister? She told me any number of soldiers and several of his brothers, including you, surrounded him at the time, and that you thought little of how terrible Fernando felt. You even told Isabella he would get over her deception. From what I can see, he did, surviving quite nicely because he finally realized she acted out of love, not malice. The same as I have with you.”

“Isabella and Fernando’s situation was different. She never threatened to deliver herself to another man.”

“I had to let you know how serious I am about this, since you refuse to consider my feelings. I understand you need to act as you deem necessary, but so do I. You rail at me for behaving like you.”

Tomás frowned. “As a man I have the right.”

“Not with me.”

He gestured wildly. “How can you say such a thing? Honor demands I protect you first and at all cost.”

“Love requires we protect and cherish each other so neither of us dies needlessly. Why would you want our lives to be any other way?”

On a loud groan, he dropped to a bench and held his head.

Oh, Tomás. Beatriz sank to the floor in front of him. “Are we through arguing?” She kissed his knee. “Please say we are.”

He groaned, then sighed. “How can I stay angry with you?”

“Do you really want to?”

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. “I worry what might happen if your father is ill and passes before you can see each other again to make things right.”

Beatriz wasn’t certain she could ever forgive her father for what he’d done. However, to grant the man a small measure of peace before his death would be the right thing to do, even if she did so for her conscience rather than his soul. “I wish no one harm. But my loyalty is to you over everyone, including my papá. Whatever happens, I want us to wait for Sancha’s answer.”

* * * *

Beatriz didn’t bring up the subject again, nor did Tomás. The following morning, he and Fernando visited the fields, groves, and vineyards, then discussed agriculture methods during the midday meal. They tried to outdo each other with what they knew, despite claiming they hated being landowners.

They were still competing during their chess game after the last meal of the day.

On the parapet, Beatriz and Isabella leaned against the stone columns, their hair pulled by the cool wind. They searched the darkness for torches in the distance. Even though Isabella had said too little time had passed for the men to return, she kept Beatriz company rather than telling her how foolish she was.

“If you want to go inside to Juana, I understand.”

“With her asleep finally?” Moonlight sparkled in Isabella’s eyes, making the color ethereal. “Up here I have no chance of waking her.”

“Yolanda would be more than happy to rock her back to sleep.”