Nevara’s tears sprang up again, and Mark’s grandmother hugged her close. Surprisingly, the old lady, too, shed a tear.
“Señora Alvaro, I would like your guidance on one troubling matter,” Nevara said. She confided about her dilemma at keeping her promise to Anna Louisa by staying in Spain to care for her home or making Mark happy by not tearing him away from the city he loved, London.
“My dear girl, all of your life you have tried your hardest to please your aunt and then your employers, and now you wish to please Mark and Anna Louisa. Tell me, what is it that would make you happy?”
Nevara sat back, made speechless by that startling question. Then she smiled, for the answer was perfectly clear. Leaning forward, she whispered her heartfelt wish.
The elderly lady hugged Nevara for a long moment, and then finally she pulled back and nodded. “Then that is what we shall do. Now hurry up and put on your lovely wedding gown or you shall be late for your wedding.”
Soon, everyone, except Nevara and the Joneses, had left for the chapel. Even the Huntsman, who had been dogging her steps since he vowed to protect her, had gone off, saying he was relinquishing her in Sir Phillip’s custody while he attended to a task set for him by his great-great-grandson.
Nevara had grown more nervous as the hours ticked by and barely noticed his departure, but she was grateful to be traveling to the church in Sir Phillip and Lady Roselyn’s blessedly calm company. Together, they arrived to find the Zincali waiting outside the chapel while the inside of the building was packed with townsfolk and neighbors who had come for the ceremony.
A few pointed questions elicited the information that there was no room inside for Gitanos. Disliking that rude response, Nevara sent word to Mark that if there was no room for the Zincali, then there would be no wedding for her.
In moments, everyone piled out of the church with Mark leading the way, the priest in his firm grasp. The guests assembled in the churchyard to the sound of lively gypsy music. Sir Phillip barely hid his grin as he led Nevara down an aisle created by the gypsies and Rue Alliance on the left and Mark’s grandmother, the Huntsman and other Spaniards on the right. At the end of their long walk, she met Mark who stood beside Lord Terrance with the lynx and Earnest sitting politely by their masters’ feet.
According to her Zincali friends, the feasting and merriment would begin back at the de Rivera estate after the ceremony. In the confusion of all the guests leaving, Nevara found herself beside Mark as he rushed her to the far side of the church. There, two mules awaited them. Their saddlebags were so fully packed that she suspected this trip was meant to last a long while. He assisted her to mount her animal and then leaped onto his.
Together they urged their mules in the opposite direction of the guests, the lynx loping lazily alongside them. Nevara followed her husband’s lead without question, laughter bubbling in her chest. She checked once over her shoulder to see if they were being followed. They were not. Only when they were well past the church did Mark slow down.
“Mark, where are we going?” she asked.
In answer, he drew her close and kissed her thoroughly enough to leave her blushing. By the time he drew back, Nevara was glad she was sitting on the mule, for her legs could not have held her up.
“We are going to that deserted beach along the Costa de la Luz, where we were shipwrecked.”
“Why there?” she asked, surprised. That beach did not hold good memories. Many lives had been lost there.
Mark gave her a rueful grin. “In exchange for us taking a secret and swift leave after the wedding ceremony while the Huntsman distracted the gypsies and the rest of our friends and family, I had to promise him a favor.”
“What?” Nevara asked.
“I have been tasked with retrieving the family staff buried with the Magdalena. The relic originally belonged to him, and he has requested that I fetch it forthwith. He was upset to hear I had not kept hold of his staff during the shipwreck.”
Nevara chuckled. “So that unusual walking stick is a magical staff?” She had missed so many clues to Mark’s true identity. “Will I ever know you completely?”
“We have the rest of our lives to learn about each other, my love.” With a mischievous grin, Mark added, “And without the gypsies keeping us apart, I intend to begin that exploration in depth tonight.”
Nevara warmed at the sultry promise in his voice. “I am surprised the Huntsman did not insist on coming with us.”
“Ah, well, I asked Lord Terrance to keep him occupied after the feast with a game of whist. Last I saw them, Dimas was eyeing Earnest with a proprietary eye. If his lordship is not careful with his betting, that unruly wolfhound may have an interesting future ahead of him.”
While Nevara laughed at that ploy, the lynx leaped ahead with a happy cry.
“Mark, after we retrieve your staff, may we leave for Cadiz?”
“If that is what you wish, of course. But why Cadiz?”
“Because a ship will be awaiting our arrival there in two weeks,” Nevara said. “To take us and our friends back to London.”
Mark drew their mounts to a halt and glanced at her in surprise. “I thought you wished to live in Spain and care for Anna Louisa’s home?”
“I wanted to ensure it would be well cared for. Your grandmother has agreed to become its caretaker in my place. She plans to ask the Huntsman to stay with her to assist with its upkeep. She believes that if you again take up your mantle as my protector, he will be willing to do so. I said I had no objections to that arrangement and was sure neither would you.”
She tenderly touched her swelling midriff. “She plans to return to London for a visit when our first child is born.”
Mark’s answer was a loud whoop that startled the lynx. Don Sabio raced back to ascertain they were safe.
Chuckling, Nevara said, “My only qualm is how Londoners will take to Don Sabio’s presence on their streets.”
“I can transform him into a cat, like Phoenix, when he is in public,” Mark said with a mischievous grin aimed at his familiar.
The lynx growled, shook his head and leaped ahead of them as if daring them to try it. He was happy being exactly who he was.
The End
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About the Author
Once upon a time, Shereen read fantasy and romance novels to entertain herself. Now she writes heartwarming tales braided with threads of magic and love, and mystery elements woven in for good measure. She’s a fan of resourceful women, intriguing men, and happily ever after endings. If her stories whisk you away to a different realm for a few hours, then Shereen will have achieved one of her life goals.
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