“It’s the medicine. Be a good girl and close your eyes.”
“I’m not crazy anymore,” I slurred.
When he shook his head, the movement was disjointed and as choppy as an old silent movie. A strange white halo shadowed his head and his green eyes bored into mine. “You never were, querida. Rest, now. You’re safe with me.”
Safe. The Spanish buzzword. For the first time in my life I understood, deep into my core, what the word meant.
I smiled and drifted into a drug-induced dream. Something about finding love in a palace rose garden.
dc
“Maria hasn’t come today?” I worried she was still angry with me.
“No one is allowed to disturb your rest, Señorita Carter,” the nurse explained. “Doctor Botello’s orders.”
I was mighty tired. Chewed-up-by-a-dog-and-dragged—through-the-mud kind of tired. And the pain? I couldn’t even talk about that.
“You are very sick and need to sleep.”
Sleep. Sleep is good…
Hours later, a light tug on my arm woke me.
“Señorita?” the nurse said quietly. “There is a phone call for you.”
“What?” Full of pain medication and muscle relaxants, it took a while before my eyes peeled open.
She held up the phone so I could see it.
“’Kay.” I knew it wasn’t the headhunter. The nurse had called her for me and told her I needed to reschedule the meeting. I didn’t really care if they gave the position to someone else. My heart belonged here. With Santiago.
The nurse placed the phone on the pillow next to my ear. I listened for a moment, trying to shake the cobwebs from my brain.
“Hello? Anyone there?” a woman’s voice said. “Oh nuts, I’ve been disconnected.”
“Mom?”
“Erin! Are you okay?”
“Guess so.” My tongue was thick enough to belong to a cow. “I’m in a hospital.”
“I know, sugar, how’re ya doin’?”
“Better. I’ll be…out…here soon.”
“She says she’s better.” Mom was talking to someone next to her. “You sure, Erin? Is that what the doctor said?”
“Yeah.”
“Maria called and said you were real sick. Your father and I want to get ya. Bring you on home.”
“Maria…called…you?”
“She says the doctor’s gonna release her,” she was still talking to someone else. “Yes, all right, here.”
“Honey, how’re ya feelin’?”
“Okay…Dad.”
“Oh, sugarplum, you sound terrible. Mom and I are catchin’ the next flight from Zimbabwe. The Peace Corps can survive without us for a while.”
“Fine…really.”
“Are ya sure? You sound funny.”
“Medication.”
“Oh. Mom’s trying to yank the phone from my fingers. Take care, sugarplum. We’ll call again soon.”
“Sugar?” Mom was back on. “There’s a huge line here to use the public phone. We’ve gotta go. You sure you’re all right?”
“Sure.” The cloud was getting thicker and thicker in my head. My eyes were already closed.
“We’ll call you soon—”
The line went dead. And I was already asleep.
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“You’re looking good,” Santiago smiled at me while checking my pulse.
“Are you planning on getting your eyes checked anytime soon?”
“I’m serious. Your color is better. Pupils normal.”
I reached for his hand and placed it on my chest. “My heart feels better too.”
He pulled his hand back and tucked it into his pocket. “You probably have questions.”
Questions? I was filled up to my eyeballs with them, but with Santiago looking at me with those loving green eyes and throwing compliments my way, did I really want to know the answers to such things as, “Did you and Helena tie the knot yet?”
Denial? Call it rose-colored shades. Besides, he wore no wedding band, so hope flickered brightly in my little corner of the universe.
“Yes. I do.” Panic bubbled in my chest and hope turned down a watt or two.
“When I get the final test results back from the lab today, I should have all the answers for you. I’m sorry it’s taken so long. I wanted to be…had to be sure.”
I reached for him, relishing the warmth of his forearm radiating beneath the white coat. “I’m not just talking about my health.”
Staring at my hand, a shadow crossed his face. “I know.” His voice was quiet as he patted my hand. “Please. A little longer. I’ll explain everything. Soon.”
The nurse walked in smiling. “Doctor Botello says you will probably be able to leave the hospital today.”
“Really? Great news. No offense, Eva. This hospital saved my life, but wowie, will I be glad to walk through those front doors.”
“Will you go back to the Estados Unidos?”
I looked at Santiago. “I’m not sure yet.”
His face was grim when he turned to go. “I’ll be back later.”
“This is the last bag for you.” The nurse adjusted the IV drip. “It has been nice taking care of you. Stay safe, okay.”
I rolled my eyes. “When I figure out how to do that, I’ll let you know.” I lifted my arm, complete with the dangling IV tube accessory and we shook.
Sitting up, I dropped my legs over the edge of the bed. I had to move slowly, dragging the stupid IV pole beside me, but could now go to the restroom by myself. It’s amazing how we take those little luxuries for granted. I cleaned up and applied a little makeup to my pale face. My hair was a disaster, but perked up a bit after I brushed it. After returning to bed, I was surprised to find a note on my pillow.
When I picked it up, a familiar wave of vertigo swooshed through me. I smiled. “Serena? Are you here?”
“Sí.”
“I thought you left me for good back at the house.” I shuddered, not wanting to relive the terrifying memory.
“Aya, no. I simply went to find your love. To bring him to you.”
My mouth fell open. “You went to get Santiago?”
“You were trying to find him with that odd machine. What did you call it, the fon? I wish it were that easy for me to reach Andrés.” Her eyes were misty.
“But how did you find Santiago?”
“Ah, you helped me. Your thoughts about him were so clear. I concentrated on his face as well and suddenly I was there. He was coming down a long hallway with his keys in his hands. I encouraged him to hurry.”
“You saved my life.”
“Claro que sí. Now, come. While you were here in the infirmary, I found another memory. It… I do not know why, but this one…aya, Erin, I am frightened.”
Was this it? The death memory? “Maybe this is something you really need to see. To move on.”
“I believe you are right. The truth is just out of my reach.” She took a stuttering breath. “But I fear we are almost there.”
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Summer, 1500, Segovia
Staring at her reflection, Serena smoothes the wrinkles out of her best gown. Her eyes are ringed with fatigue. Happily the bruise on her cheek is gone. She smiles, grateful for one good thing about her new duties—in the nursery she is safe from Lady Mara.
Turning, she notices how different she looks from the day Andrés first met her in the gardens. Will he like my womanly curves? Or will his eyes be only for Lady Mara, the woman soon to share his bed?
“Serena? Are you in here?” Clara whispers.
Serena swipes at her eyes. “Yes. Enter.”
“Holy Madre! You are going tonight? Why?”
Serena swallows the lump still lodged in her throat. “Lady Mara demanded I come.”
“Then it is a trap.”
Serena is silent.
“Listen to me, no good can come from this. She must be planning to humiliate you before all those guests. You mustn’t go, Serena. Please. Stay here w
here you are safe from her sharp claws.”
“Do you not see? It may be my last chance to see Andrés before he marries—” The sob catches in her throat.
“Oh dear.” Clara pats Serena’s head. “Do not cry. I hate to see you like this. I promise you, one day soon, Lucia the she-devil will get her just desserts.”
The ballroom is full of noblemen and ladies. Music lifts into the air, mingling with laughter. Serena’s heart hurts. As hard as she tries, she cannot forget the last time she was here, dancing with her beloved.
Where is he?
She stands up on her toes to look over the crowd. A long table is set at the front of the hall complete with gold-stitched tapestry, tapered candles and the finest cutlery. The marquesa sits at the head of the table next to Lady Mara.
Serena ducks down and slips through the guests. She wants to put distance between herself and the ladies who despise her.
I cannot let them find me before I speak to— She stops short. She would recognize that broad back anywhere.
Andrés scans the crowded ballroom. Is he looking for her?
“Hey, there you are, old man.” Don Ricardo slaps him on the shoulder. “Quite a gathering.”
Serena steps back, blending into the crowd.
“Smells like an ambush, does it not?” says Andrés.
“Indeed. And you, my friend, are the target.”
“Any idea what my mother has arranged? She claims it is a celebration of my becoming Head Chamberlain. That news is long in the tooth. What is she really up to?”
“What man could profess to understand the thoughts of women?” He drapes his arm across Santiago’s back. “Let us enjoy. Your mother and intended have organized a splendid get-together.”
“By hell’s name, Lady Mara is not… Do not call her that.”
Ricardo raises his eyebrows, “No? But your mother said—”
“I do not intend to marry her, no matter what the great marquesa says.”
“You shan’t be put upon then, if your best friend dances with the lady?”
He slits his eyes. “Who says you are my best friend? Dance the whole night if it pleases you. Keep her out of my hair.”
“I shall.” Ricardo pounds his shoulder and strides away toward Lucia Mara.
As Andrés walks, people pat his shoulder and linger to wish him well. He smiles and makes polite conversation while his eyes race across each face in the crowd, searching…searching.
For me? Serena hopes. “Andrés?”
“Serena! You are here.”
“I should not be.”
His gaze pours over her face. “You are more beautiful than I remembered.”
“Are you well?”
She is concerned by what she sees in his face. He is battle-bruised and worn thin. His brown eyes are ringed from lack of sleep, but more than that, they appear…haunted.
What torture has he endured?
“I am better now that you are here.”
A bolt of electricity arcs through her when he brings her hand up to his lips and kisses her knuckles.
“Andrés, don’t.” She pulls away. “Not here where everyone can see.”
“What do I care of them? I see only you—”
“There you are, Andrés,” Don Ricardo interrupts. “Your mother and querida—I mean, the Lady Mara, have asked me to hunt you down and send you their way. Something about a toast.”
“I cannot leave you again, Serena.”
She lets him see the love in her eyes. “Go, Andrés, this is a special night for you. We shall speak later.”
“More than that. We shall dance.”
“I count on it, Chamberlain.”
He strides off toward his mother’s table. Serena cringes when Lady Mara rushes to take his arm.
“There you are. Everyone waits for us to dance the first Ioyoso,” Lady Mara says.
“Dance? Not toast?” His voice is angry.
Lady Mara pouts. “No one will set foot on the floor until I dance with my intended. We cannot spoil their fun.”
“Dance, son, there is all night for toasts,” Beatriz calls out.
He pauses for a long moment before tapping his hat and allowing Lady Mara to drag him toward the group of dancers.
Serena goes to join Clara, who is eyeing the eligible noblemen.
“So you came after all. I warn you, she is up to no good,” Clara whispers.
“I know. ”
Clara elbows Serena. “I hate to admit it, but they look good together.”
“Beside Andrés, a sow looks attractive,” Serena says.
Clara laughs. “Sí. He looks extremely handsome tonight. I swear, I cannot remember the last time he smiled like that. Oh, lo siento, Serena, perhaps it is the festivities, not Lady Mara who makes him happy.”
A male’s voice comes from behind them, “Bless me, two of the most gorgeous women in Castile standing idle while the music plays?”
Clara and Serena turn to see the wolfish grin on Don Ricardo’s face. His reputation with the ladies is known far and wide.
A pink blush fans out across Clara’s bosom and up her neck. “It is difficult to dance without a partner.”
“No? I shall rectify this outrageous situation immediately.”
“Bueno.” Clara lifts her hand for him to take.
Don Ricardo smiles and offers his arm to Serena. “How about the next one, Lady Clara?”
Clara’s mouth falls open.
“Don Ricardo, I beg of you, take Clara in my stead. I do not feel like dancing.”
“You will once you have taken the arm of the best dancer in all of Castile.”
Serena’s salmon-colored gown swishes and twirls about her ankles as he pulls her towards the floor. She dares not look back at Clara.
“You are my choice,” he whispers in her ear. “Tonight I shall not ask any other to dance.”
“Don Ricardo, do not say that.” Serena is horrified, remembering what Clara told her after the last ball. “Noblewomen take great offense when they are not asked to dance.”
His smile is genuine. “They will clamor to dance with the best. I shall not need to ask a one. Mark my words.”
“Oh, you are incorrigible.” Her hearty laugh breaks over the music. When Andrés’s head swings toward the sound, she catches the look of love in his eyes. She tries to ignore the murderous look in Lady Mara’s.
“Andrés, perhaps it is time for that toast. Let us sit,” Lady Mara says loudly.
He walks away with her, but his gaze remains stubbornly locked on Serena.
“Ah well. It seems the music halts, for now. Shall we take our seats over there?” Ricardo points to two seats at the back of the hall.
Serena frowns. “Surely you jest. Those are too far away.”
“Trust me, we shall hear better than those sitting beside Andrés. And we shan’t have to strain our necks to see over the heads of others.”
Skeptical, she follows him, casting glances over her shoulder toward Andrés’s back.
“Are you sure we will be able to hear from here? Mayhap we should go closer.” She points. “I see two empty chairs.”
“Nonsense. Besides, I doubt Lady Mara will want you seated so close to…the head table.”
She sighs. He is right.
“I am more than happy to keep you company.” He moves his chair closer. When his leg brushes against hers, his eyes shimmer. “You are so beautiful.”
The intensity in those black eyes makes Serena uneasy. She shifts in her chair.
“I have known Andrés since we were three and have never seen him gaze at a woman as he does you. You must be special, indeed.”
“Very kind of you to say, Don Ricardo.” She looks down at her hands in her lap. Nervousness flutters in her stomach.
“I do not mean to be kind. I wish to learn for myself what makes him desire you.” He grabs one of her hands and brings it to his lips.
At the sound of clanking glasses, she turns her head from him, squirmi
ng in her seat to see.
“Time to make a toast.” The marquesa’s voice rings out.
Ricardo whispers. “To sleep in a nobleman’s bed is surely better than a poor woman’s cot.”
She presses a thin finger to her lips, motioning for his silence.
Ricardo rubs Serena’s arm, his hand hot on her sleeve. “No lady has ever refused me. And all have been well-satisfied.”
“Please, Don Ricardo.” She pulls her arm away. “I cannot hear.”
“First of all, we say welcome home, Andrés,” says the marquesa. “We have all missed you. For those of you who do not know, King Fernando has appointed Andrés his Head Chamberlain.”
Cheers fill the room. Serena strains to see Andrés’s face and does not notice when Ricardo’s arm slides around her shoulders.
“Raise your glasses,” Beatriz continues once the cheers die down, “to my son’s happiness.”
“Salud!” the crowd cheers.
Andrés smiles at his mother, mouthing the words, “Thank you.”
“And there is more…” the marquesa rushes on.
In the back of the room, Ricardo yanks Serena closer. The pit in her stomach turns to fear when the black-eyed devil grins like a wolf.
“Four days hence my son and Lady Mara shall be married.”
Deafening cheers explode off the walls. Four days? Serena blinks at Ricardo in astonishment. Her lips part, but no words come forth.
Ricardo seizes the moment and crushes her mouth with his own.
She is shocked still, her mind reeling. Unlike the sweet kiss Andrés first gave her, this kiss is an attack. Violent. Punishing. Like a serpent, his tongue forces its way in, probing, violating. Serena tries to scream, but cannot. Rough fingers grope her breasts, painfully squeezing her nipples. Hot panic surges through her body as she struggles to break free. She fights, but is no match for his strength. She cannot breathe, cannot move.
The crowd is on its feet cheering so loudly no one notices her plight at the back of the hall.
In a flash of instinct, she bites down as hard as she can, her teeth grinding against the foreign object violating her mouth. Ricardo’s tongue is nearly severed. He screams out in agony, releasing her. Her screams join his as she scrambles away from him.
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