Paradise & More (Torres Family Saga) (9 page)

BOOK: Paradise & More (Torres Family Saga)
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“Our son has survived the worst the Moors can do,” Benjamin reminded her, “not to mention thriving among King Fernando's fiercely jealous military advisors. He will return covered in glory from the Indies, never fear, beloved.”

      
“Yes, I know he is strong and brave and clever—just as his father is but you always think before you act. Aaron is so impetuous at times that I marvel he has fared as well as he has. Only recall all the scars he carries from that awful war.” She shuddered.

      
“He is a soldier. Not an easy life, but one he has chosen and is suited for. Can you see him as a physician tending the sick?” he asked her.

      
A small smile quivered on Serafina's lips and she shook her head. “No. And now that the war has ended, he is well free of court intrigue. Better that he go with the chartmaker and search out the riches of the east.”

      
“You are weary. It has been a long and trying day. Go rest. I would walk and ponder for a bit.” After his wife retired, Benjamin paused at the fountain, a grin on his face. Some servant had picked up Aaron's tunic. What would Serafina say if she knew their son still violated her rules about bathing in the courtyard? Finally he walked to the stairs leading to his son's quarters. How long before Aaron would return to them? Had he taken all he would need for such a long journey?

      
“Sentimental old fool,” he murmured as he entered the large open sala. Then as he lit a brass lamp, his eyes caught sight of an expensive volume from his library tossed carelessly on one of the couches. Picking it up, he wondered how it had come to be here. Aaron had read Ovid years ago and surely had little time or inclination to have brought it to his quarters this afternoon. Then his gaze strayed through the wide arched doorway into the bedroom...

 

* * * *

 

      
“I must speak with your mistress,” Benjamin Torres said urgently to Miralda, who watched the
marrano
suspiciously as she wiped her fat hands on her apron.

      
“Who gave you leave to enter? No one is sick in this house,” she said, ignoring his request. Magdalena had come home yesterday afternoon disheveled and crying. The old servant knew she had sneaked across town to the Torres palace with naught but a groom for protection. Now the king's own
converso
physician had sought her out. What had been done to her at his home? Miralda did not trust Jews, converted or not.

      
Struggling for patience, Benjamin resorted to his most commanding court voice. “I have something of great value to give your lady and it must be delivered in person. You will immediately send word to her that I await her in the sala.”

      
Seeing he was not to be deterred, Miralda turned and scuttled across the portico toward Magdalena's room. A few moments later, Magdalena appeared, her eyes red-rimmed and her face pale. She had hastily dressed and combed her hair, leaving it unbound.

      
Please, Holy Mother, do not let him know what Aaron and I have done!
“Good day, sir. What brings you to visit so early in the morning?” She tried for a cheerful voice as the tall old man turned to greet her. Benjamin had only come to the Valdés city house when she was still recovering from her fall. Then it had been so shabby she had been ashamed of it. Now, newly refurbished by her father's wretchedly gained wealth, its opulence made her even more ashamed.

      
Ignoring the transformation of the sala, Benjamin reached out and took her hands, guiding her to sit on a brocade couch near the courtyard window. His eyes were grave as he studied her ravaged face.
So, the worst is true
. “I have brought you some things, my child.” He took the volume of Ovid from his cloak and offered it to her. “This was your selection from my library, was it not? Our doorman said you visited yesterday while Serafina and I were away.”

      
She knew her hands trembled as she clutched the book. Had the meddling old servant said more? She could not meet Benjamin's eyes. “I...I must have dropped it in the courtyard. I am sorry...”

      
When he produced her jeweled combs, she gasped and her face turned red, her eyes locking with his. With infinite gentleness he placed the combs in her limp fingers. “You must tell me what happened, Magdalena. Did my son hurt you?”

      
She buried her head against his shoulder and began to sob. “It is not as you think. Aaron is not to blame for my foolishness. He did not force me. I...I went willingly to his bed.” Her voice choked and she gulped great breaths of air in a vain attempt to calm herself.

      
Slowly, with careful questions and encouragement from Benjamin, the whole story of Magdalena's girlhood infatuation with Aaron spilled out, from their first encounter at court to his saving her life on the marsh last year, then to her scheme to insinuate herself into the Torres family with such disastrous results. “When...when he kissed me in the courtyard,” she paused, overcome with shame, “I could think of nothing but how long I had waited for his notice. I thought he returned my feelings—no, no, that is not true. I did not think at all! I merely acquiesced,” she finished miserably.

      
“Magdalena, my child, you have loved foolishly perhaps, but you have loved. There is no shame in that. You, as I well know, are an innocent. And my son,” he paused delicately, “is not. He will marry you before he sails. We will ride for Palos within the hour.”

      
Magdalena's head snapped up. “Sails? He is leaving Castile?”

      
“He sails in a fortnight with Cristobal Colon.” Benjamin felt her stiffen as he spoke. “Never fear. He will give you the Torres name before he departs. It may be many months ere he returns.”

      
So he had seduced her knowing full well that he was leaving on an adventure to carry him to the opposite side of the earth! She was only his last female solace before the long celibate months at sea! “I will not marry him!” Magdalena replied tightly, remembering Aaron's cruel accusations about her morals and her family honor.

      
Benjamin sighed. “He thought you no innocent because of the accident, the young fool. I can certainly put that to right, Magdalena. Have no fear.”

      
She stood up, clutching the combs until their sharp ivory tines pricked her fingers. “It is more than that. Much more. He thinks me to be one of my father's familiars—or a court intriguer such as my mother! Look around you, my friend, before you deny the accuracy of his accusations.” Her hand swept toward the newly whitewashed walls hung with Bergundian tapestries, lined with lushly upholstered couches and elaborately carved oak chairs. “My family is accursed! And I have stooped to their level, God and all the saints forgive me! My mother would be proud of how I stalked him. I am cut of the same cloth as she!”

      
Benjamin stood up and took her by the shoulders. “No! You did foolish things, yes, but you acted out of love, not avarice, to gain a husband, not political advantage.”

      
“I will not force him to wed me,” Magdalena said stubbornly.

      
“When came your last courses?” Benjamin asked her softly.

      
She turned, horror-stricken, then replied, “Last week.” Her eyes were enormous, glistening with tears.

      
Benjamin released a long, relieved sigh. “Thank heaven. You are not likely to be carrying his child. We can be grateful for that. But he has carried away your honor, Magdalena. He may be a fool, but he can be taught the error of his ways. In time I know he will love you.”

      
“Perhaps, but it cannot be forced at sword's point. Let it rest until he returns. We have both of us acted most unwisely.”

      
Benjamin studied the proud, lovely young woman before him. Never in his life had his intuition guided him this surely. Aaron and Magdalena were destined to love each other. As was the custom, he had arranged the marriages of Mateo and Ana. One had been for good, the other for ill, but in neither case had he felt this way.

      
Some instinct impelled him to act now and not wait for Aaron's return. Taking the heavy sapphire ring with the Torres family crest from his finger, he reached out for her hand. Unclenching her cold white fingers, he took the combs from them. Then he placed the ring in her palm and closed it.

      
“Keep this always as a pledge of betrothal between you and my son. He will sail home by year's end. I know it. Will you be waiting for him and give him yet another chance?”

      
Magdalena could not deny the look of entreaty in his eyes. “Yes, my friend, I will wait for Aaron, your son.”

 

 

Chapter Five

 

 

      
Magdalena could still see the old Jewish woman as she sat crumpled on the street corner. Her six-year-old grandson was fighting a valiant but losing battle as two older youths rifled through the meager pouch of goods his grandmother had hoarded. He cried and kicked as they threw a Hebrew Bible into the gutter and pushed him on top of it. The wizened face of the woman was beyond pain, dead to all expression, defeated. Magdalena had rushed from the courtyard into the street and driven the youths away with her riding whip. Then she took the ragged pair to the kitchens and offered them food and some coins.

      
Within a few hours word of her kindness had spread, and several other desolate refugees paused hopefully outside her courtyard. With Don Bernardo at Segovia having an audience before Torquemada, and Estrella at court, Magdalena was temporary mistress of the household. She had opened her gates to give whatever succor she could to these wayfarers on their journey to Cadiz, the major embarkation port of Andalusia.

      
Her efforts had been short-lived once word had reached Don Bernardo. Magdalena feared he had set some of those awful “Inquisitor's eyes,” the street scum of Seville, to spy on his own daughter. Within three days a threatening letter had arrived and today her father came in person, livid over her “judaizing activities.”

      
Bernardo Valdés looked at his youngest child, willful and spoiled but by far the most striking of Estrella's children. He could never be certain whether any of the four girls was his, but that was of no real significance. They were useful for political marriages...or other arrangements. This beautiful child-woman would be his best offering at the royal court. Magdalena's striking green eyes and mahogany hair would certainly catch the king's attention. But only if he could keep her free of the Holy Office.

      
He cleared his throat and placed his hands across his widening paunch. “Not only have you been giving unlawful aid to the Jews, but you have been sneaking away unescorted to visit that accursed physician, Torres. Miralda told me he even came to our house to visit you this past week. I will not have you putting this family in jeopardy.”

      
“I could not watch people who have been our friends and neighbors start their journey with nothing. What I did was an act of Christian charity, not ‘unlawful aid.’ My friendship with Benjamin Torres should not upset you. He is a
converso
and the king's own physician, high in royal favor.”

      

Marranos
can never be trusted, no matter how high their rank. And his own Jewish brother fled Castile with a fortune, a direct violation of royal decree.”

      
“Since the roads are filled with Jews being forced to leave, I do not blame him for escaping with what property he could take before this tragedy unfolded!” she replied, her hand sweeping to the window. The streets of Seville were clogged with Jewish men, women, and children, carrying what few pitiful possessions they could on their own backs, denied even beasts of burden to bear the meager loads.

      
Bernardo's eyes narrowed until they glinted like cold gray metal. “You will no longer associate with the
marrano
. And to keep you from succoring any more stiff-necked Jewish swine who fall by the roadside, you will go to the country—if I have to have my men bind and gag you and tie you onto a cart! Once this messy business is over, you will be grateful that I have saved your reputation. Then you will go to court and serve the queen.”

      
Magdalena saw the look of arrogant determination etched on his florid face. He would do as he threatened if she did not acquiesce. Her shoulders slumped in defeat. “I shall pack my clothing, although I see not what it matters if I am to be locked away in the country.”

      
“You will await my summons to court. Miralda will assist you with packing,” Bernardo added with oily solicitude, having won his way. He had instilled a terror of the Holy Office deeply in the dueña. The stupid old hag had reported his daughter's every word to him.

      
Hurt by Miralda's betrayal, Magdalena refused her help in packing. As she folded the soft woolens, rustling silks, rich brocades and cloth-of-gold gowns, she wondered with what blood money her father had purchased the clothing. Once she would have danced with glee for such lovely things, for a lavishly decked-out home, for all the trappings noblewomen of distinguished families expected. But not this way. Never at this cost, she thought in horror, squeezing her eyes closed and crumpling a silver embroidered cape in her hands. She had been so foolish, so selfish as to think her life bereft when Aaron casually had taken her innocence and sailed away. Her broken heart would mend, but the very fabric of the lives of entire families had been irreparably rent by the expulsion. Their broken hearts would never mend!

      
If only she could get word to Benjamin before she left. Magdalena tossed the cape into her trunk and looked about. Miralda was still downstairs receiving her father's last minute instructions. Good. She stole over to her small jewel chest and unlocked it.

BOOK: Paradise & More (Torres Family Saga)
6.89Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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