Passionate Pursuit (28 page)

“Half will do.” She brushed away Yolanda’s tears and kissed her cheek.

Once Isabella had handed Juana to Yolanda, she embraced Beatriz. “I need to thank Tomás for finding you and giving me another sister to love.”

Beatriz laughed and cried.

With the carriage packed and the guards ready to leave, there was no more delay. Nuncio helped Beatriz into the transport. The horses started forward, the wheels creaking. Missing everyone already, she leaned out the window and waved farewell. Yolanda ran down the path, but couldn’t keep up. Soon she and everyone else became mere specks in the distance before disappearing completely.

Beatriz still looked, finally slumping against the cloth seat embroidered with Tomás’s coat of arms. Already, she longed for a return to the castle, the only place she’d ever been welcomed fully and could call home.

All too soon, the carriage passed through the gate and clattered down the road. Fields streamed past, followed by vineyards and groves. Peasants toiled on the land, wearing tunics in yellow, red, purple, and green more vivid than new grass. Women walked down the road, holding young children’s hands, unmindful of dust stirred by horse hooves and wheels.

One mother carried an infant in a sling wrapped tight to her breasts. She didn’t seem happy or unhappy, simply resigned to doing what she must. With never-ending work, these people hadn’t time to consider anything except survival. A hopefully full belly, enough clean water to drink, a place to sleep undisturbed, children who survived past the first years and thrived to adulthood.

Beatriz recalled Yolanda, tongue peeking from her mouth as she drew in the dirt, learning what she should have at a much earlier age. Juana would have the best tutors, Isabella and Fernando educating their daughter so she had every chance to succeed.

The same as Beatriz’s papá had done for her, though hardly out of pride or love. She closed the velvet curtains over the windows, blocking out dust, light, and her farewell to a place she adored. She considered her first moments alone with her father after so many months. For those images, she needed darkness.

A knot formed in her chest, aching dully. Similar to what Nuncio had said about her father’s pain, though hers was different. Dread, not mortal weakness, crowded out her guilt. If her father railed at her for having taken Pascuala’s gown and fleeing, rather than wedding Don Larnaz as a dutiful daughter should, Beatriz wasn’t certain she could keep her tongue.

She feared losing control of years of pent-up hurt and anger. She might enrage her father to the point where he wouldn’t be able to breathe any longer and she would be responsible for his death.

Although the physician had written how her father called for Beatriz in his sleep, the man hadn’t said whether her papá’s voice was loving or filled with contempt. Maybe her father wanted her to kill him so her guilt would never end.

She covered her eyes, certain she was losing her mind. After collecting herself, she drew back the velvet curtain on the right. The guard on that side scanned the area, ever watchful.

She leaned out. “How long until we reach the city?”

“Three hours at best. If you need us to stop, say the word.”

She nodded and let the velvet swing back into place, hoping a nap would make the trip seem shorter and silence her uncomfortable thoughts. After propping a pillow behind her head, she leaned against the transport and closed her eyes.

* * * *

The carriage jolted, nearly sending Beatriz to the floor. She grabbed the window ledge to steady herself. The horses squealed.

She shoved aside the velvet. “What is it?”

“A cork tree in the road.” The guard pushed up on his horse, craning his neck to see more. “The wind must have pushed—”

Air poured from him. He fell from his horse.

In front of the carriage, men fought, fists hitting flesh with sickening thuds, muttered words spoken, fierce howls released, steel blades clanging. Robbers. The tree in the road had been a ploy.

She tore through her things for something to protect herself, not having thought to bring a dagger or sword as Tomás had once warned. Thankfully, Cook or Yolanda had packed a knife with her meal. With the weapon hidden within her skirt folds, Beatriz waited. A pulse beat hard in her temples, her palms sweaty. She might not fell more than one man, but she would have blood for this horror.

The horses’ squeals finally quieted to snorts and sniffs, the way they would when someone had calmed them. Seconds passed with nothing else happening. Birds chirped, the wind whistled through trees, leaves rustled.

Footfalls struck softly on the packed dirt, someone rounding the transport. Sun shone on the curtain, making the scarlet cloth a lighter red. A shadow fell across the fabric, the dark outline showing a man’s shoulders and head.

She gripped her knife.

The half-door flew open. Rufio smiled. “Now, you pay.”

Beatriz’s shock delayed her reaction, though not by much. She slashed his forearm.

He stared at his injury, disbelief on his face. “Whore!” He grabbed her skirt and yanked her to the carriage floor.

She stabbed air rather than him.

Two men ran up, burly and young like Rufio, each wearing livery, marking them as a noble’s servants. Don Larnaz.

Beatriz screamed.

Rufio slapped his hand over her mouth.

She wrenched her head back and forth to loosen his hold, succeeding enough to part her lips and bite his finger.

Howling, he jerked away.

Beatriz kicked the next man, hitting him squarely between his legs. On an agonized gasp, he staggered away and fell to his knees.

The third man punched her calf. White-hot pain pumped through her, snatching her breath. He pulled her from the carriage, one arm around her waist, the other clamped on her mouth.

Tomás’s guards lay to the side. None moved or seemed to breathe.

She fought, but the man was too strong. He dragged her to another conveyance.

Rufio caught up, clutching his bloody sleeve. “I wish he would have let us kill you.”

“Quiet.” The man holding her breathed hard. “Help me.”

Dark blue velvet covered the window. Rufio opened the door.

Don Larnaz sat on one side, her father on the other, healthy, powerful, and smug.

He’d fooled her as he had her mother, the physician’s missive a lie. He’d had to trick her into visiting him after he’d gotten rid of Tomás, that letter surely a ruse.

Beatriz screamed her outrage and fought as she never had.

* * * *

The merchant shook his head. “I have yet to acquire any black Arabians since we last spoke. Who told you I had more? Never mind. I have three white ones for you. Never have you seen such exquisite creatures.”

Tomás thought the man daft not to recall writing only a short while ago. “No one told us anything. You sent me a missive.”

He pulled the letter from his pouch.

As the merchant read, he mouthed the words and finally shook his head. “Someone must be playing a trick on you. This is my seal, but I never wrote this.”

Understanding and fear hit Tomás hard. “Don Larnaz sent the missive.”

He ran from the merchant’s stable, Fernando following him.

“I have brown Arabians too,” the man called out.

Tomás raced to the guards, who stopped speaking.

“Wait.” Fernando grabbed Tomás’s arm. “Where are we running off to?”

He wasn’t certain. “Do you think Don Larnaz went to the castle to force Beatriz to go with him?”

“How would he get that far with your men guarding the gate and walls? The only way inside would be if he mounted an attack. Would he be that foolish or skilled?”

Never. Soft and unused to battle, the coward won by scheming and finding out about his enemies. As he’d said that night at the castle, telling Tomás he knew about him. Tomás’s friends were well aware how much he loved black Arabians. “He sent the missive to get me away in order to have a clear path to Beatriz if she left the castle. But nothing would make her do so.”

“News of her father would. What if Don Larnaz knew of the man’s condition and sent her a missive claiming he was near death, hoping Beatriz would visit him so Don Larnaz could intercept her?”

Tomás turned to the guard on his right. “Ride to Don Enrique’s castle. Tell my brother I need him and the guards he can spare at…” He paused and spoke to Fernando. “Where first? The road to the city or Don Larnaz’s estate?”

“We should cover both at the same time.”

Tomás directed the first guard. “Tell Don Enrique to take the road to the city past my castle.”

“Sí, Patrón.” The man rode off.

“Go to Don Gabriello and Don Alfonso’s homes,” Tomás said to the other guard. “Tell my brothers I need them and any men they can gather, including the alguacil. They should look for me near Don Larnaz’s castle.”

The man nodded.

“Wait. We don’t know where Don Larnaz’s estate is.”

“I do.” The guard stepped closer. “My cousin works in the fields nearby.” He provided directions.

Tomás committed them to memory. “Go.”

“Where do we ride?” Fernando asked.

“Between the city and the puto’s castle.” Tomás mounted his gelding.

Fernando wheeled his horse around. “What if Larnaz has Beatriz in his castle?”

“We storm the gate and I kill him.”

* * * *

The men forced Beatriz into the carriage next to Don Larnaz.

She squirmed away.

He gripped her wrist, pulling her back.

She punched him wherever she could, yanked their hands up, and sank her teeth into his thumb.

Yelping, he wrenched free.

She drove her elbow into his gut and turned to the door.

Her father slammed his walking cane on the seat.

She reared back.

“Sit down and stay down.” He glared. “If you refuse, I will beat you until you can no longer stand.”

She cried, “How could you even think of doing such a thing?”

“You mean securing a noble for you and a title for your children?”

“For yourself. I want none of this. I love Tomás and intend to wed him.”

“How touching and misguided. The man will never see you again, except at gatherings with the marquis, your husband.”

“That marriage will never happen.”

The carriage jerked forward.

Beatriz tried to see past the velvet curtains on both sides but couldn’t.

Her father leaned back in his seat. “You think you can stop this?”

“I would die before I wed that puto.”

Don Larnaz gasped and raised his hand.

“Go on, strike me.” She gave him a mean smile. “Tomás will gladly run you through while I cheer him on.”

Larnaz stilled, dark spots staining his cheeks. At last, he lowered his hand, looking as cowed as he had at the castle when Tomás had gone down the steps, ready to kill him.

She turned her wrath on her father. “I would die before going through with this marriage.”

“We shall see. Your mother clung to life far longer than I wanted her to.”

Beatriz seethed. “How dare you.”

“What? Speak the truth? Kill yourself if you must, but do so after the ceremony and bearing a male heir. I have no intention of losing access to what Don Larnaz’s title can do for me.”

“What kind of a man are you? What kind of a father?”

He regarded her with indifference. “I have no brats. Not even you.”

He’d gone mad, evil corrupting his mind to the point of lunacy. Beatriz pushed into her seat to get away from him. “To think I felt guilty about your failing health as a daughter should with her papá.”

A smile tugged at his lips. His eyes remained cold. “Quite a performance I put on. My physician likes to talk and told me about a noble patient of his who has difficulty breathing and feels pain here.” He pressed his fist against his chest. “And here.” He touched his left arm near the top. “How easy to pretend I had that rather than the fever. White powder on my face made me look ghastly. I suspected either Tomás or one of his servants would show up to pay back your dowry, as he told Don Larnaz. The manservant Tomás sent seemed close to swooning every time I pretended I was in pain. I knew after that my missive, written as the good doctor Cristóbal Yniguis, would bring you to my side just as though you were my daughter.”

“What are you talking about? I am your daughter.”

“No. Your father died shortly after you were born. Sorry fool killed himself. Seems you inherited his taste for putting on a show.”

The ground beneath Beatriz seemed to have opened up, trying to suck her inside. “What?”

“No need to look so shocked. It is what it is, or rather what society has made of us all. Your father never understood how lucky he was, having wealth and power from birth simply for being born to noble parents when I had to earn everything.” His scowl grew even uglier. “Hardly fair, but I was smarter than those around me, especially your mother. She fell in love with me so easily. Her papá welcomed me into his home as he would a son. All I had to do was wait until the old fool died to do what I wanted.”

Beatriz shook her head, refusing to hear anymore.

Eyes glittering, faced flushed, he leaned forward. “She resisted what I wanted in the beginning. I tried to explain how my plan would benefit both of us. During her liaisons, she could learn the most intimate secrets of the nobles she was with. Men in the throes of passion always talk, offering a wealth of information simply begging for use.” He shook his head. “Sadly, there was no reasoning with the woman. What do you do with an animal that refuses to obey? You beat them until they submit to your will, as they should.” He smiled.

Beatriz wanted to be sick. She hadn’t been able to finish the journal, not wanting to know how her mother had suffered. To have him boast about what he’d done… “Enough.”

“I think not. You need to know everything to put your resistance in the past where it belongs. Your father was one of the first nobles to have her. They fell in love quite readily and he wanted to spirit her away to his castle, especially after she became pregnant with you. A grand romance.” Jaw tightened, he tapped his cane hard. “I warned him how foolish his plans were. His father had numerous secrets I made certain to learn about in order to exploit his weaknesses. Exposure would have destroyed the family name. For a set fee every month, I was willing to keep silent on the matter of his dear papá. I told your father if he changed his mind, I would hurt your mother, the love of his life. If he tried to harm me, I had everything written down, the document held by my lawyer who would seek justice after my death. In the end, he chose family, position, power, and wealth over her but never recovered from the loss. After his death, I found other nobles for your mother to entertain, ordering her to learn their secrets.