Devoted to the Spanish Duke

by Sasha Cottman

  He set her down and took her face in his hands. “Everything at home just stopped the day you disappeared. Mamá wanders the castle grounds incessantly while Papá spends his days writing letters to people, begging for any news of you.”

  “Do they know I am safe? That Lisandro rescued me?” she replied.

  “They do, though I have not been able to speak with our mother. She read the note last night and then went directly to the chapel to pray. There have been many rumors as to what happened to you. Some say you drowned in the sea that day in Zarautz.”

  She screwed her eyes closed, fighting and failing to hold back her tears. All she wanted was to go home. To find her dear mother and calm her worried heart.

  But there was one last thing they had to do in order to cut the traitorous cancer out of the house of the Duke of Villabona.

  “Did you see Lisandro on the road here? He left but a short time ago,” she said.

  Diego nodded. “We passed each other on the other side of the village. He knows that Papá is in on the plan.”

  Downstairs, the horses were taken to the convent stables and hidden from view. The heavily armed men that Diego had brought with him were stationed at various points around the courtyard. If anyone arrived to try and take Maria, they would not be leaving alive.

  The abbess and nuns left the convent by way of a rear laneway and headed to the nearby San Miguel church for safety.

  Maria turned to her brother. “Are you really going to spill blood in a holy place?”

  “This was not my doing. Lisandro brought you here. Though, looking at the high walls and fortified gate, I can understand why. I don’t wish to kill anyone but if it comes to it, I will,” he replied.

  Diego sent one of his men to the top of the bell tower to keep watch on the road which led in from Villabona. Unless Perez and his cronies decided to come over the high mountain, this was the only way in to Irura.

  While they waited, Maria came and sat beside Diego in the courtyard. They linked hands and smiled at one another. Diego chuckled. “I can just imagine how it would have looked when the Duke of Tolosa came riding into Castle Villabona. We have to hope that no one decided to shoot him on sight.”

  Maria flinched and squeezed his hand hard. She couldn’t bear to think about Lisandro being in danger. Not knowing where he was and what he was going through was sheer torture.

  “You are genuinely worried about him, aren’t you?” said Diego.

  “I love him, Diego. I’m going to marry Lisandro de Aguirre.”

  He let go of her hand and turned her to face him. “I know I agreed with Lisandro that marriage might be a necessity if he managed to find you, but there are other ways we could fulfil our obligations to him. A large sack of coins might be enough of a reward for Don de Aguirre, rather than claiming your hand. And then Father could offer a hefty bride price to entice the Count of Bera to marry you.”

  Maria got to her feet. “You think I am going to marry Lisandro as a way of saying thank you? No. And it’s not because I see him as some sort of hero either—notwithstanding the fact that he is a brave man. I am marrying Lisandro because we love each other, and we have made a commitment. I won’t be marrying anyone else, let alone Juan Delgado.”

  Diego’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean ‘a commitment?’”

  She let silence be her answer. Diego let out a long, low series of curses, all of which would get him excommunicated if the abbess ever found out.

  “Well, I don’t expect Count Delgado Grandes is going to offer for you now anyway. He lost interest once you disappeared. If he discovers that you have been with Lisandro de Aguirre unchaperoned, that will be the end of it.”

  Maria didn’t care if she never saw Don Delgado ever again. The man didn’t care for her; he only wanted power.

  A loud whistle from the bell tower put a hasty end to their discussion. The lookout signaled the number three with his fingers. He covered his face with his hands and shook his head from side to side.

  What does that mean?

  “Three men on the road. The Englishman with the scarred face is one of them,” said Diego.

  She nodded. Of course, that was what the last signal had meant. Lisandro had obviously mentioned Mister Wicker in his note to Diego.

  “You had better go inside. If there is to be any fighting, I want it over and done with quickly. I am not having you injured or killed this close to home. Mamá would never forgive me.”

  Maria headed back upstairs to her vantage point. She wanted to see the man responsible for her kidnapping once more. To finally get a good look at him.

  The gate of the convent slid open and Wicker and his men stepped inside. Diego’s man appeared from behind a nearby tree and closed the entrance. A loud clang resounded through the courtyard. The rest of Diego’s guards boldly stepped out from their hiding places with pistols drawn and aimed at the new arrivals.

  Within seconds, the two men accompanying Wicker had thrown down their swords and dropped to their knees, hands clasped while they begged for mercy.

  “Cowards,” spat Wicker.

  Diego strode out the front door of the convent, pistol aimed directly at Wicker’s head. “My English friend, you appear lost, or else why would you be at a Catholic convent?”

  Maria held her breath.

  “I am just visiting various churches in the region,” replied Wicker. He shifted to one side, and Diego’s pistol followed. The Englishman was clearly testing him. “Come on, lad, put that down. You don’t want to be firing at a live target. You might hurt someone.”

  With that, Wicker lunged forward, making a sudden move for Diego’s pistol.

  There was a bang and a small cloud of smoke appeared. Wicker dropped to his knees before falling facedown onto the stones. His body gave a violent twitch and then stilled.

  Maria put a hand to her mouth. The Englishman was dead.

  The other men were quickly clamped in irons and led out the front gate. She hoped to never see either of them again. For ever after, Maria would never be able to understand why Wicker had done it. Had he been counting on her brother not having the courage to pull the trigger?

  She hastened downstairs to where a clearly shaken Diego stood staring at the lifeless body of Wicker. Blood slowly seeped out from under his corpse, staining the ground red.

  As she approached, their gazes met. Diego shook his head.

  “You had no choice. It was either him or you,” she said.

  He sucked in a shaky breath. “Yes, I know. But I just killed a man, and that is going to take some time to absorb.”

  Maria placed a hand gently on her brother’s arm. There would be a time and place for a comforting hug, but that was not now. “Let me get your horse, Diego. It’s time we went home.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  There was an eerie silence as Diego led his men inside the central courtyard of Castle Villabona sometime later that afternoon. The last horse in the group had Wicker’s body draped and tied over it.

  Maria, who was seated behind her brother on his horse, sensed something terrible had happened.

  Servants silently took a hold of the reins of the horse and Diego jumped down. He turned and lifted Maria, setting her onto the ground. She swayed unsteadily on her feet and accepted his arm as support.

  I am home. But what have I come home to? Please lord let it not be bittersweet grief.

  “There were times when I thought I would never see this place again,” she whispered.

  Diego blinked away tears. “As did we,” he said, his voice breaking.

  The peculiar hush followed them upstairs and into the main chamber. Where usually there was a host of servants and family gathered, there was just her father waiting.

  At the sight of him, she dashed across the floor and into his embrace. Strong arms enveloped her and held on tight.

  “My sweet daughter. Oh, Maria, I feared we had lost you,” he said.

  His hand stroked her hair as he rocked back and f
orth. From his lips came a prayer of thanks. “Gracias, Dios, por todas tus bendiciones. Gracias. Gracias.”

  She drew back, a sheen of tears blurring her vision. The worry of not knowing his daughter’s fate was visibility etched in her father’s face. He had aged years in the months since she had last seen him.

  He smiled at her. “And to think we have the Duke of Tolosa to thank for your safe return.”

  Maria couldn’t help herself any longer. “Where is Lisandro?”

  His tepid smile grew wider. “Outside on the terrace with your mother. Last night, when we found out that you were still alive and close to home, she went to our private family chapel and took up an all-night vigil. It was the only place she felt she could go and stay away from Señor Perez.”

  Diego came to her side. “Mamá was worried that if she saw him, she wouldn’t be able to control herself. She was all for running him through with a sword.”

  “After Don de Aguirre revealed where you were, Perez went straight to the Englishman and told him. You should have seen his face when upon his return, the guards seized him and threw him into the same cell that the Duke of Tolosa had so recently vacated,” said her father.

  Maria held her hands together. Lisandro had been right. He had baited the trap, and the traitorous Perez had walked straight into it. “I still find it hard to believe that he would betray us. What will happen to him?”

  “He will receive justice. I will ask for the Holy Hermandad to intercede on my behalf. They will interrogate Perez and then put him on trial. If King Ferdinand is indeed behind your abduction, he will surely distance himself from such a heinous crime. I expect Perez will see out the last of his days in Puerta de Toledo prison.”

  Her heart went out to her father. To discover that his long-serving faithful servant had turned against him and betrayed the Elizondo family must have been devastating. Señor Perez had chosen money and power over loyalty.

  She turned to Diego. For all his bravery, Diego still appeared badly shaken by what he had done. Taking the life of a man was no small matter.

  “After what happened at the convent, perhaps you and Papá might need some time alone. I shall leave you and go to find Mamá.”

  Slow, purposeful steps marked her progress as Maria made her way out to the terrace. She wore a veneer of calm, but inside she was shaking.

  The instant she stepped into the mid-afternoon sunshine and caught sight of her mother’s beloved rose garden, long-suppressed emotions rose like a tidal wave and washed over her. With a keen born of heartache, Maria dropped to her knees, hugging herself tight. She wept unconsolably.

  “Maria!”

  There was a scurry of feet, and soon, arms enfolded her. Her senses were filled with the familiar scent of her mother’s perfume. The notes of rose, orange blossom, and jasmine were all that she needed to finally know that she was truly home.

  Home.

  It took a long time to summon the strength to lift her head and gaze upon her mother’s face. In those early dark days when she’d been in the hands of her kidnappers, the promise she had made to her mother had been Maria’s rock. The thought of seeing her again had been her greatest source of hope.

  “Mamá,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

  “Mi niña hermosa.”

  Maria smiled. She might be a grown woman, but to her mother she would always be her beautiful girl.

  “You made a promise to come back to your family. That promise is now fulfilled,” said Lisandro.

  Maria glanced up as he came to stand beside them. Her barely abated tears quickly started again. “Yes, and you were the one who helped bring me home.”

  Miracles were something she had been raised to believe in, and now she had several of her own. She was home, back with her family. And the man she loved was here.

  “Mamá, I see you have met Lisandro,” she said.

  Her mother nodded. “Yes. Though I still cannot believe that it was the Duke of Tolosa who went all the way to England to rescue you.”

  Lisandro held out a hand and helped the duchess to stand. He then took a step back and grinned at Maria. “Do you require my assistance or is this another one of those moments when you tell me that you have been leaping to your feet since you were a child?” he teased.

  Her mother’s mouth opened on a small O, but Maria simply laughed.

  “You are never going to allow me to forget that remark about the Andalusians, are you?” She accepted his outstretched hand, then fell into his arms as soon as she was upright. He didn’t protest when she reached up and planted a soft kiss on his cheek. The sooner her family understood the true nature of her and Lisandro’s relationship the better.

  To her mother’s questioning look, she nodded. “I have agreed to marry Lisandro.”

  A red-faced Lisandro cleared his throat. “I hadn’t quite got to that part yet. I’d thought it better to wait until you and Diego had returned before broaching the subject.”

  She gifted him with a second kiss, this time on the lips. Little more than an hour ago, she had seen a man die; and after all she had been through, Maria was determined that life was for living. She wasn’t going to waste another minute waiting to begin a new one as Lisandro’s wife.

  The duchess clasped her hands together. On her lips sat a small smile, but her eyes glinted with joy. “Well then, Don de Aguirre, may I suggest you go and speak to my husband. Because if you plan to ask for our daughter’s hand in marriage, you might want to first do something about putting an end to the feud between our families.”

  Maria and Lisandro exchanged a smile. Hand in hand, they followed the duchess back into the castle. It was time to settle the long-standing argument which had begun over a pair of goats.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  It wasn’t how he had ever imagined asking for a woman’s hand in marriage but considering the kind of day it had already been, Lisandro decided he should just go along with things. Besides, it wasn’t every day that a hundred-year feud came to an end.

  I hope it is coming to an end.

  Seated around the table in the Duke of Villabona’s private suite were himself, Maria, the duke and duchess, and Diego. In front of them lay an aged piece of parchment.

  He had never seen the document before, but he knew of its existence, and of what his forebears had agreed to when they’d signed it. An agreement they had then reneged upon.

  The duke pointed to a line of scrawl. “You can see clearly that it was in the terms of the contract. A contract the Aguirre family failed to fulfil.”

  “Papá,” said Maria.

  “Well, it does,” he replied.

  Lisandro held up his hand. “If I may. Yes, the contract stipulates those terms. My understanding is that my great-great-grandfather, the Duke of Tolosa, took grievous offense at the Duke of Villabona making unwelcome advances to his wife. That was why the final part of the deal was not completed.”

  The duke snorted. “Yes, well I heard she was quite willing.”

  “Papá!” cried Maria.

  Lisandro didn’t respond to the insult to his family. He, too, had heard those rumors. But if they were ever going to get this feud settled, both parties would have to make concessions. It was ridiculous that things had ever been allowed to get to this stage in the first place. Two pigheaded great-great-grandsires had condemned their descendants to keeping up a pointless feud which could have so easily been resolved if they had been willing to put their stubborn prides aside all those long years ago.

  “Don de Elizondo, would you care to offer up an apology for the behavior of your grandsire?” Lisandro said. He calmly met the duke’s gaze.

  “Will you fulfil the contract?”

  A look passed between them—a silent agreement that this whole discussion meant more than just settling an old dispute. It was the establishment of a valuable and trusted friendship

  The two of them would do what they could in order to make this part of Spain safe against the machinations of the king. M
en like Lisandro and Antonio had to take a stand and stop Spain from spiraling into a bloody civil war.

  “Yes. I will fulfil the contract. Today. And on this exact day every year,” replied Lisandro.

  “Well then, I offer my family’s formal apology for any offense caused to the late Duchess of Tolosa and succeeding generations,” announced the duke.

  Lisandro rose and offered Antonio his hand. It was quickly accepted. The ancient feud was finally over. There were smiles all around the table.

  Lisandro nodded toward Maria as he retook his seat. She beamed at him. “And now, Don de Elizondo, I wish to discuss the matter of requesting Maria’s hand in marriage.”

  The smile disappeared from Antonio’s face. “I beg your pardon?”

  Maria maintained her own smile. Lisandro might have caught Antonio unawares, but that didn’t mean he was going to back down.

  “I asked for your daughter’s hand in marriage. For her to become the Duchess of Tolosa. What better way to finally put the feud to rest than by uniting our two families?” replied Lisandro.

  Antonio’s gaze fell on Maria. “But what about Don Delgado Grandes? I thought you were set on marrying him.”

  Never. That was all your idea. I don’t even like the man.

  “Since the two of you couldn’t come to terms on the betrothal and dowry, I don’t think it likely that he is still interested in marrying me. Besides . . . I have been away from home for many weeks in the company of another man. You cannot offer full assurances to the count that I am still pure,” she said.

  Her mother gasped. Diego punched the table. But, to his credit, Lisandro didn’t bat an eyelid.

  While Antonio’s face remained expressionless, Maria noted that his right hand was fisted so tight that the knuckles were all white. Violence was not out of the question.

  “Is this what you want, Maria? I am sure Don de Aguirre would never call your honor into question if you declined his offer,” replied the duke, his voice dark with menace.