by Tina Donahue
He regarded her before turning away. “How would I know? Prior to rescuing you, I spent my time in Granada, not here.”
“But you do know the name of the village to the east, no?”
He looked to the right before turning to the left.
She frowned. “Tell me its name.”
Fernando inhaled deeply then sighed. “Its name is of no consequence.”
“Does the village exist?”
He frowned at her.
“Does it?”
He showed her his back.
Despite what she’d told him and how she’d begged, he was taking them to her papá’s castle. “Where is Portugal, to the right or the left? Point it out to me.”
“We are not fleeing to Portugal.” He turned in his saddle to look at her. “There is no reason to flee. We have done nothing wrong.”
“As though such a thing would matter. My only crime was to be my parents’ child, with that leading my uncle’s agents to deliver me to the Moors. I may yet be murdered. Still you dismiss my concern.”
“Nothing could be further from the truth.”
“You also claim to love me, and—”
“Claim? It is fact.”
“Then answer this. Because you love me do you also believe what I say in regards to my uncle?”
“Even if I disliked you I have no reason to doubt what you say now that I know the whole story. Why would you lie in regards to him or anything else?”
Her frown faded. Instead of relief, shame and renewed worry filled her. “Are we headed away from my papá’s castle?”
He turned back to the path. She grabbed his arm. “You cannot confront the man.” She tried to wrest the reins away.
He pulled them from her grasp. “I have no intention of putting you in harm’s way.”
“If not, why are you continuing to my papá’s castle?”
“The puto murdered your parents. He tried to harm you. I refuse to allow him to live another day in peace or to enjoy your inheritance.”
“He can have it for all I care. Does the wealth worry you? You want the inheritance to the exclusion of everything else, even my safety?”
Fernando reined in the horse and faced her as well as he could. “What did you say?”
His expression was the hardest Isabella had ever seen, yet hurt filled his eyes.
Her heart sank. “Forgive me.” In her desperation to keep him from his plan, she hadn’t worried about wounding him.
He looked away.
Her stomach cramped. “Fernando, I spoke in anger. I was only trying to find a way to keep you from my uncle’s reach.”
He kept his face averted. “The man must be brought to justice and made to pay for his crimes.”
Never had she been as defeated or lost, not even after her parents had died. “If I cannot sway you, I cannot be with you.”
She pulled up her leg to dismount.
“Isabella!” He used his free arm to block her.
“Allow me to leave.”
He would not. “To go where?”
“Anywhere safe from my uncle.”
“You would go there without me?"
“I have no other choice.”
Breathing hard, Fernando looked past her. After muttering a string of oaths, he wheeled the horse in another direction, still blocking her escape.
She regarded the new route. “Where are we headed?”
“Away from your papá’s castle. I give you my pledge on the matter, though only if I have yours not to dismount.”
“You have it.”
He lowered his arm.
“Where will we go now?”
“What does it matter as long as it is not your papá’s castle?”
She feared he’d head toward the neighboring estate where Sancha had taken refuge. How was she going to dissuade him from doing so?
He looked over again. “Is there more you need to tell me?”
She shook her head. “Will we be stopping to hunt for food and to sleep or will we reach the end of our journey tonight?”
“If memory serves me, there should be orange groves along the way. If you want to sleep, you can do so as we ride. Wrap your arms tightly about me.”
They wouldn’t be stopping. They’d reach their destination by this evening. Isabella was so overwhelmed she slipped her arms around Fernando’s waist and rested the side of her face against his back, welcoming weariness she’d fought for too long. Even the darkest dream was preferable to facing the truth.
* * * *
When she awakened, dusk had fallen. The coming night was mild, the breeze caressed.
Fernando snuck a peek at her. “Would you care for an orange?”
In the waning light, he seemed far more alert than she would have believed possible. “Did you already stop and pick it?”
“Without awakening you?” He smiled. “The fruit is ahead.” After dismounting, he led the horse to an overgrown yet fragrant grove where he tethered the animal and offered it grain.
Isabella picked the fruit with Fernando carrying it in the bottom of his shirt. Once they returned to their blanket, he peeled the first orange and offered her two slices. The fruit glistened in the faint light.
“Gracias.” She held his hand as she drew the moist slices into her mouth.
“Is the fruit good?”
She finished swallowing and licked the sweet juice off his fingers. “I far prefer this.” She pressed her lips to his roughened palm.
He curled his fingers, caressing her cheek. “I know you want to stay the night, but we cannot.”
Defeated again, she released his wrist. “How much farther do we need to go?”
“We stop at first light.”
“Stop where?”
Fernando separated the slices and slipped two inside his mouth. After he chewed and swallowed, he held up what remained. “Do you want more of this?”
“No. Stop where?”
He studied the orange and ate in silence until he’d had his fill. When the gelding had rested enough, they departed.
Isabella stared at the moonlit road as she imagined their arrival at Don Eduardo’s castle. Fernando had to be heading there, as it was the only sensible destination.
Once they were at the wall, Don Eduardo’s guards would escort them inside, where his servants would greet them. Next, Sancha would arrive. For the second time in her life, she’d be face-to-face with her betrothed. A man her younger sister loved and had lain with. A man whose child her younger sister might be carrying when the babe should be Sancha’s.
Even though Fernando had pledged not to force Sancha into marriage or motherhood, Isabella knew he’d be hard-pressed to keep a promise based on a lie. Sancha rightfully belonged to him, as did the inheritance. He’d be a fool to give it up and allow Don Rodrigo what he willed.
Fernando had said as much. Once he learned the full truth, he’d make his claim and see to Don Rodrigo’s fall. What other choice did he have? Even if he loved her, fate or qisma had already decided their futures. No man’s passion, not even his, could survive so many lies.
Desperate to escape, even if it was only in sleep, she closed her eyes.
Rest eluded her. Too quickly, she felt the warmth of the sun. The first rays skimmed the horizon and swept the fields, the morning air fresh and sweetly scented. Birds sang, insects buzzed. The gelding continued up a small rise, until Fernando reined it in at the top.
Isabella expected to see Don Eduardo’s lands and castle in the distance. Instead, she stared at an open area filled with men.
She looked to the right: another taller hill. At the top was a fortaleza. A stronghold. Were these men knights? They must be. Despite the early hour, archers were already practicing, while other men fought with swords.
“Where are we?” She feared Fernando was going to leave her here so he could confront Don Rodrigo alone. “Who are these men?”
“Ones I
trust.”
“To do what?”
He said no more as two of the men were already riding to greet them, or perhaps stop them from coming closer. The men’s swords were drawn, their expressions murderous.
Isabella pressed against Fernando.
The man on the right stared at her. His large nose and thin lips made him quite homely. His gaze darted from her face to the long tendrils of hair hanging below her hat before moving to her homespun shirt and hose.
His swarthy companion frowned. “Is that you beneath the beard, Fernando?”
“It is.” He grinned. “And how have you been, Ignacio?”
The young man glanced at Isabella and stared openly, the same as his companion. “Not as well as you it would seem.” He turned back to Fernando. “The last we heard, you were still in Granada.”
“Now I am here.”
The other man eyed Isabella. “And surely not alone.”
Fernando rested his hand on her leg. Ignacio and his companion noted the possessive move, because both men promptly ignored her.
“Are you here to see Pedro and Tomás?” Ignacio asked.
The names stirred a memory in Isabella, only to slip away.
Fernando nodded. “Are they awake, or will I be able to surprise them?”
Ignacio’s gaze darted to her, before returning to Fernando. “Rest assured, they will be surprised.” He wheeled his horse around and spoke over his shoulder. “Follow me.”
As he maintained the lead and the other man brought up the rear, they escorted Isabella and Fernando into camp. Men casually lifted their gazes only to stare at her. Ignacio looked over at Fernando and pointed at one of the men. The fellow’s back was to them as he poured water over his head. His hair was the color of wheat. It was quite beautiful and finally stirred another memory in her. Something Fernando had said about having a younger brother named Tomás whose hair was light. A brother who might possibly recall what Fernando hadn’t. His betrothed’s Christian name was Sancha, not Isabella.
She wanted to bolt but knew Fernando or a hundred other men would easily run her down.
He dismounted, crept across the grounds, and whipped his arms around his unsuspecting brother.
The younger man gasped then bellowed a curse. Fernando easily lifted him off his feet and swung him to and fro. The others laughed. Tomás struggled mightily, but Fernando was inches taller, owned more muscle, and was too busy amusing himself to allow the younger man to win.
“You want to be released?” Fernando whooped above Tomás’s newest oaths. “Tell me which of us is the most competent knight.”
“Your brother Pedro is!”
Isabella looked at the man who’d shouted. His hair was dark like Fernando’s. As he ran toward his older brother, Fernando growled. Soon all three siblings were on the ground wrestling and bellowing until Tomás saw her.
He left Fernando to best Pedro, and strode to her instead, capturing her hand.
Isabella panicked, desperate to run, afraid to move.
Tomás smiled. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am—”
“In my way.” Fernando shoved Tomás aside so the younger man kissed air rather than her fingers.
Pedro laughed until Fernando turned his scowl on him. Apparently satisfied he’d cowed his younger brothers, Fernando helped Isabella to dismount and wrapped his arm around her waist, claiming her.
Tomás grinned as he approached. “And who might the lovely señorita be?”
Fernando glared. “The lovely señorita would be mine.”
Isabella’s heart pounded.
“Yours?” Tomás seemed utterly intrigued. “How is such a thing possible? You must tell me at once.”
Pedro approached. “Tell us both.” His smile was as potent as his brother’s, though would hardly last once he knew she wasn’t Sancha.
Isabella’s legs went watery.
Unaware of her turmoil, Fernando turned to his brothers. “This is my betrothed, Señorita Isabella Lopéz de Lara.”
Chapter 13
Tomás and Pedro’s smiles vanished. They exchanged a glance, Tomás looking quickly skeptical. “That cannot be.” He flicked his gaze to Isabella, before turning to Pedro. “Tell our brother.”
The man regarded Fernando with embarrassment and lowered his gaze.
She wanted to die. Hearing her Christian name, Fernando’s brothers knew of her deception. Once he learned the truth, contempt would follow his rage. She pulled away.
Fernando followed, again slipping his arm around her waist as he glared at his brothers. “What is the matter with you two?”
Tomás frowned. “Us? What is the matter with you? Your betrothed you say? Isabella you say? How can such a thing be possible?”
“Quiet.” Fernando turned to her. “What are you doing?”
She tried to pull away again.
He tightened his arm on her waist. “Isabella.”
She was too ashamed to look at him.
He shook his fist at his brothers. “How dare you frighten her. Step back, take a bath, hide your faces.”
“All at once?” Pedro asked.
“Impossible.” Tomás squared his shoulders. “First we must rid the beauteous Isabella of this lout who claims she is his.”
Her heart caught at his teasing comment. Cautiously, she lifted her gaze.
Tomás winked at her and turned to Pedro. “Fernando could never win such a prize.”
Pedro nodded. “How right you are. Surely he used force to drag her here.”
“I agree. See how he keeps her from fleeing even now. We must make him pay. You slit his throat as I disembowel him.”
Fernando growled. “Watch your foul tongue around the señorita.” He looked at her. “Are you all right?”
She didn’t know how to answer, wondering what he saw on her face. Fear? Shame? Joy? His younger brothers obviously didn’t know or didn’t recall Fernando's betrothed was Sancha. Days before, their careless disregard for her sister’s existence would have angered Isabella. Now, relief replaced fear because they didn’t know the truth.
Fernando squeezed her gently. “What troubles you?”
“You, what else?” Tomás faced her. “From this moment forward I pledge my protection to you.”
Pedro nodded from behind. “As do I.”
She fought tears. “You are far too kind.”
Fernando shook his head. “Too kind? These two are hardly the protectors you deserve.”
Tomás frowned at his older brother then smiled at her as he again captured her hand. “Fair maiden, enchanting goddess, exquisite—”
Fernando smacked the side of Tomás’s head to stop his gushing. “Enough, fool.”
“As you wish, lout.” Tomás turned back to her. “You will always have my regard.” He kissed her fingers.
“Release her.” Fernando punched his brother’s hand away. “Or risk losing your head.”
Tomás sighed. “See how he threatens me?”
Isabella wanted to laugh and cry. “He loves you greatly.”
Fernando made a derisive noise. “Even though he is hardly what I deserve.” He turned to Pedro. “Say what you must to Isabella, but be quick.”
Pedro smiled sweetly. “Does he also order you around?”
She shook her head. “Never.”
He laughed at her lie and gently kissed her fingers.
“Enough.” Fernando knocked Pedro’s hand away. “She is my betrothed, not yours.” He smiled at her. “Are you hungry?”
Food was the least of her concerns. Her worry was back at him introducing her as his betrothed. When Fernando finally learned the truth, he’d never forgive her for deceiving him in front of his brothers and making him seem the fool. No matter how much she loved him, it would never right the wrong she continued to do.
“Isabella?” Fernando lifted his eyebrows. “Are you hungry?”
She wasn’t yet still nodded. Perhaps a
s they supped she could forestall more questions about the betrothal and keep a bad situation from growing worse.
Fernando turned to Tomás. “Is there a place inside where Isabella might eat?”
“Me?” She didn’t want him to leave her. “What of you, Fernando?”
“I need to stay here and beat some sense into my brothers.” He glanced at Tomás. “Find someone suitable to escort her.”
Tomás proved to be as commanding as his older brother. His orders were swift and sure, bringing Ignacio and several other men to her side.
“The señorita is famished,” Fernando told Ignacio. “Provide her with the choicest food you have.”
She took Fernando’s hand. “Join me.” The time for truth had come. She’d already jeopardized his honor in front of Tomás and Pedro, who would pity him for having believed her. The sooner Fernando knew the truth, the sooner he could tell his brothers. To save face, he could claim he’d been in on the deception at her request. Afterward, Fernando could leave her in their care as he traveled to her papá’s castle, ousted Don Rodrigo, and claimed Sancha.
It had come down to betraying her sister or hurting him. Isabella loved Fernando too much to continue her deceit. He was more important to her than anyone. She’d been a fool to believe this could have concluded in any other way.
She squeezed his fingers. “Please.” She had to tell him everything now before courage failed her.
“In a little while.” Fernando gently touched her lips with his. “Now go.”
* * * *
Once he’d turned his back to her, Fernando wound his right arm around Tomás’s neck and his left about Pedro’s. He pulled them behind a tree where no one would overhear.
Tomás sighed. “Why are you wrestling with us when you should be doing so with Isabella?”
Fernando released his youngest brother. “Suggest such a thing again and I may be forced to pound you into the ground, understand?”
Tomás leaned toward Pedro. “Exactly as I thought, our brother is in love.”
Fernando’s face heated. Pedro laughed. “Tomás is right.”
“Tomás will always be an idiot.” Fernando sniffed. “And had better watch his tongue where Isabella is concerned.”
“She is enchanting,” Tomás said. “How did you get her to agree to become your bride?”