Nobody's Saint (23 page)

Don Luis laughed. “You should have gone into the navy, Diego, you and your unassailable honor. Then again, maybe not. Even most naval officers would fall short of your measure.”

“You are too cynical.”

“And you are too worried about looking good.”

Diego straightened up in his own chair and glared at his employer. “I have never cared what others thought. I care about what is right.”

“If I had paid the Grand Inquisitor to acquit you, you would have thought the action perfectly right, I assure you. Someday, Diego Montoya, I hope you are forced to chose between what
is
right and what
looks
right. Maybe then the rest of us will not look so poor to you. I imagine Enrique thought what he was doing was right.”

“He should have come to me instead of stabbing me in the back.”

“Maybe. Maybe he was afraid you would send the devil after him, or heaven forbid, your saint.” Don Luis chuckled at the idea.

“You do not believe I see Magdalena?”

“I do not care. You have kept my ships out of the hands of pirates, and every time you defeat them, I get a percent of the spoils. As I said, you are my most profitable employee.”

“Speaking of my employment…”

“This will be your last voyage for me, no?”

“The next time you see me, I will be able to make the last payment on
Magdalena
.”

“I do not know now. Surely a ship blessed by a saint is worth more than I originally asked.”

Diego shot to his feet, and Don Luis laughed again. “Sit down, sit down, Captain. The price is fixed, and you are right, you should be able to make the final payment. You are going to steal my best customers.”

“I would never—”

“Oh, no, not you. You would never actually steal them. But you are the one they are accustomed to dealing with, and you will not turn them away when they seek you out.”

Diego felt his cheeks heat up. This was exactly the line of his thoughts in La Habana two weeks before.

Don Luis laughed again. “It is business, Diego! You are going to have to learn to be a little more flexible if you are going to become the one who runs the whole enterprise.”

Diego sat at the desk in his cabin, checking over an invoice for the cargo that had been loaded that morning. Nearly two weeks had passed, and he had not seen Mary Kate except at Mass and over two very well chaperoned dinners at the Gallegos household. He was very busy, certainly, filling his hold, replacing his first mate and the twenty crew members who could not quell their unease with their captain, answering the occasional summons to Bishop Álvarez whenever some question he had not thought to ask earlier popped into his mind. He had assured Diego the whole matter had been duly settled, but each incidental question left Diego feeling perpetually on the edge of something dangerous. He was glad he had decided upon La Habana as the base for his business, rather than Cartagena.

And truthfully, spending time with María Catalina was painful. It would help if he did not understand why she had made the choice she had. Then he could be angry with her. As it was, she was right. Why should she be expected to walk away from her country and her family? He was not willing to do it. He saw his family seldom enough anyway, but he had dreams of a ship and a business, and neither of them involved fishing off the coast of Ireland.

So he would dine with her one last time tonight, and then he would be ready to set sail tomorrow. He went down into the hold to assure himself that all had been loaded correctly and would weather the trip to Spain, headed back up to the deck to inform his new first mate, Salvador, of his plans for the evening, then returned to his cabin to dress for dinner. He had to smile as he pulled out the very formal black velvet he had worn the night he and Mary Kate had dined with the galleon captains. Women were not the only ones who took great care with their appearance to make an impression. Perhaps he understood why she had not chosen him, but he would do everything he could honorably do to make sure she regretted it.

It soothed both his ego and his heart to see her standing right behind the servant who answered the door at Don Juan’s house. At least she was as eager to see him as he was to see her. The moment he stepped through the door, she took his arm and leaned close to him, assailing him with a subtle blend of roses and female skin.

“Before you even ask, it wasn’t my fault.”

“Pardon?”

“Don Juan is in rare form, but I swear ‘twasn’t my doing. I’ve hardly said five words to him all day.”

“You do not speak enough Spanish to have said anything to make him angry.”

Mary Kate gave him a smug grin and, in perfect Spanish, said, “You are a stubborn goat, although you look very handsome in black. My Spanish is progressing satisfactorily.”

Diego laughed and replied in his own tongue. “Yes, it is, but now I cannot be as certain that you are not the cause of Don Juan’s anger. Should I speak more slowly?”

Mary Kate looked away, and a hint of sadness crept over her face. In English she said, “I seem to remember liking it very much when you spoke to me slowly.”

Diego remembered it, too, the night Galeno had been playing tricks, and she had asked him to kiss her slowly. He remembered with perfect clarity the way that she had tasted. “I wonder if I might
speak
to you slowly one last time tonight. We shall have to find a moment away.”

But it would not be this moment. Juan and his wife Teresa came to join them and pull them into the drawing room for conversation before dinner. Mary Kate had been right, Don Juan was obviously unhappy. Teresa kept the conversation flowing, being careful to keep her words and sentences as simple as possible so Mary Kate could try to keep up.

“Señorita O’Reilly has a gift for language. She has gone shopping with me and to visit my friends, and she is learning quickly.”

Mary Kate laughed. “I do not make amusing conversation, but I have learned the most important words. Now, I can shop anywhere in the Spanish Main!”

Diego chuckled, too. “Then you need learn no more Spanish. Beyond shopping, what else is there?”

“Absolutely,” Don Juan joined in, but there was no humor in his voice. “She need learn no more Spanish. I have received word from Port Royal, and they have granted permission for one Spanish ship to enter their harbor just long enough to return Señorita O’Reilly and collect her ransom, which her fiancé has agreed to pay.”

The reminder of their imminent parting killed Diego and Mary Kate’s good cheer, as well.

“When will I be leaving?” Mary Kate asked.

“They are expecting you within the week.”

Diego forced a tight smile. “Then I suppose we both leave tomorrow.”

“Yes, you do,” said Don Juan. “Together.”

“What?” Mary Kate and Diego asked at the same time.

“The governor of Jamaica has specified that the provision is limited to a small- scale merchantman of limited weaponry.
Magdalena
is the only ship fitting that description leaving within the allotted time period.”

“I didn’t catch all of that,” Mary Kate said to Diego, and once he explained it to her, they stared at each other in silence.

Nearly a week.

Unchaperoned.

Don Juan muttered a word under his breath that Mary Kate had not heard since leaving the sailors on
Magdalena
. “I told my colleagues we should write for an extension. I told them it would be most unwise to send the two of you together. I would have arranged a
duenna
, but Don Luis will not have the journey held back while you return the chaperone to Cartagena. He is already unhappy to have you delayed by this bit of diplomacy. He is actually charging the government for her passage!”

Diego gave Don Juan an arch look. “She managed to make it from the place of her rescue to Cartagena unmolested.”

“Did she?”

Diego stood up, his eyes ablaze. “What are you implying?”

Don Juan sighed and shook his head. “Diego, ours is a friendship that goes beyond the two of us. Your father and I have been friends since we were children. You saved my son from drowning. I am only concerned for your welfare. I would not see you any more hurt by this than you have already been.”

“And yet you would believe that I—”

“I apologize. I spoke inappropriately. But you will not deny that there are powerful feelings here. Be careful, Diego.”

“I know my duty.”

“Good. That is important. I know you and Señorita O’Reilly have resisted temptation so far, but I feel I must remind you that for the next few days it is not merely your own honor that you guard. It is hers and mine and all of Spain’s, since I have given the word of our government that she will be returned in marriageable condition. Do not fail me.”

“It would be unthinkable.”

“There!” Teresa proclaimed in her dulcet voice. “The matter is settled, and I think dinner is ready.”

Honor! If Mary Kate heard one more man bandy that word about as though it were the sun around which the whole earth turned she was going to scream!

*

It felt like pure heaven to be back on board
Magdalena
, feeling the wind in her hair and the warm sea breeze upon her upturned face. Mary Kate would miss much about the Caribbean when she returned to Ireland. She would miss the comforting motion of the ship, the startling blue of sky and water. It was enough to tempt her to marry a fisherman, but her family would need her to help with the crops and flocks. Heaven only knew in what state she would find their lands when she returned. And the sky and waters of Ireland were never so blue as this, the sun seldom so bright and cheery. She listened to the chatter of sailors around her and felt a tug of regret that she would never again use the Spanish she had so diligently studied in the last few weeks. And the comfort of being surrounded only by those who shared her faith, the absence of the tug-of-war that never fully ceased in Ulster, would be sorely missed.

She would miss Galeno, too. Why, in just a few years, he would be a man in his own right. His voice would stop cracking from time to time and settle into the fine tenor it was becoming. A beard would shadow his face, and he would forget his infatuation with an older Irishwoman once he met the right Spanish maid.

Unable to resist any longer, she turned her gaze to the bridge. Diego had shed his coat, and the wind rippled across his white shirt, teasing her by molding it to his lean torso before ripping it way again. He had left his dark hair loose, and it danced around his face. She would miss the scent of lemon that clung to his clothes and the taste of wine lingering on his tongue. She would miss watching his dark eyes widen in shock then heat with passion at her brazen teasing.

But she would have her family back, just as soon as she sent her latest prospective husband running from her in horror. She would have Bridget to chase after and fight with and keep out of trouble. She would have her father to deal with and his moods to gauge. There would be disputes to settle between the two of them, tenants to manage, crops and flocks of sheep to oversee, bills to pay—most especially the pub.

She squared her shoulders and ignored her tight throat and burning eyes. She was Mary Kate O’Reilly! She was exactly the one to go home and do all those things. Who better than she? She would look after her da and her sister, maybe find Bridget some nice man. A fisherman, maybe, and from time to time, he might take his sister-in-law out in his little boat, just so she might feel the rocking of it beneath her and hear the whisper of the water all around her. She’d marry a man of her own someday, and slake some of the fire within her in his bed. But in her heart she knew every time she might spend her passion with another, embers would still smolder under the ashes for a certain Spaniard.

Well, every woman should have a story of love to keep in her old age. A story frozen in time where she and her lover were forever young.

She made her way across the deck and up to the bridge to stand next to Diego. “‘Tis good to be back at sea,” she said.

“Aye. I can never stay away long.”

“Will we eat in your cabin tonight?”

“Of course.” He smiled at her, but his eyes were sad.

“I don’t suppose there’s any convincing you to visit my cabin a while before you retire.”

“I thought you were going to use one of your numerous other tricks to rid yourself of your betrothed.”

“I am. That’s not why I’m asking you, Diego.”

He reached for a lock of hair that the wind had ripped from the loose knot on her head. “I know. I am not refusing so the Englishman may have a virgin bride. Perhaps not even because my own honor and that of my country are at stake. I am refusing because I swear upon my ship that if ever I take you, you will be mine forever—your family and our countries be damned.”

He had spoken the words so quietly and yet so fiercely that there could be no doubt he meant every one of them. Mary Kate had to bite her lip to keep from saying, “Then take me you bloody fool! Take me and don’t leave me responsible for the choosing!”

“Your nose is burning.”

She rubbed it and felt a little sting. “I’ll go below, then, and see you at dinner?”

“
Sí
.”

She went below deck to the cabin that would belong to Salvador as soon as she had been delivered to Port Royal. It had been Enrique’s the last time she had used it. It seemed like years had gone by since she had thrown a temper tantrum on the floor of her cabin on board
Fortune
. It might as well have been years. That ship and her crew were resting on the bottom of the sea, as were the ship and crew that had sent her there. That former Mary Kate had worked to deceive so many people that she had hardly known who she was anymore. Then she had met a man who had seen through all her illusions and loved what he had seen.

He had never told her he loved her, not in so many words, but if what he had said to her on deck a short time ago had not been a declaration of love, she didn’t know what was. She lay down on her bunk and did what she had not permitted herself to do in many, many years. Mary Katherine O’Reilly cried.