The Spanish Duke's Holiday Proposal

by Robin Gianna

  Maybe Mateo sensed she was about to flee because his grip on her tightened. His jaw ticked and he seemed to take a moment to draw breath before he spoke again. “I do have a bride who is not only a lovely person, she’s a physician as well. I would appreciate it if you would welcome her—the first woman I have ever brought here.”

  “You should have warned us,” Ana said sharply. “An American is not a suitable bride for you, as you well know.”

  “Perhaps in your view,” Mateo said in a remarkably calm voice, considering the twitch Miranda could see in his jaw. “But I believe that the people who live here would welcome a beautiful, intelligent and accomplished woman as their duchess, don’t you?”

  Miranda stared up at him, wondering how he managed to sound so relaxed when his parents were attacking him. She also wondered about the glib compliments falling from his lips. Had she ever been called those things by anyone?

  “The people who live here value our long heritage, Mateo. Something an outsider would not understand,” Rafael said.

  “You are being very selfish here, Mateo.” Ana narrowed her eyes at him before sliding them toward Miranda. “An unwelcome shock like this is not good for your father’s health. What is so hard about accepting your duties here? Your brother never hesitated to take on the role when asked. And yet you act like it’s a burden to even come home briefly to visit.”

  “I’m fully aware of Father’s health, and my duties. The pain we all feel over losing Emilio. I’m sorry to be such a grave disappointment to both of you.”

  “You are not a disappointment, Mateo.” Frowning, his mother waved her hand. “It’s just that...we are having a party here tomorrow to celebrate your coming home. I would prefer not to announce this...engagement yet. Give you some time to think more about it.”

  “There’s nothing to think about.” Mateo’s voice had become hard now, and the look he was giving them would have had most people quaking in their shoes. “Miranda and I are engaged to be married, which I want announced to the world. In addition to that, I would appreciate some civility and manners toward her, which so far have been sorely lacking from you.”

  His parents glanced at one another, each huffing out a frustrated breath as they seemed to realize how unpleasant they’d been. “Our apologies, Dr. Davenport. This is...a very big surprise, but we certainly want all our guests to feel welcome here. Please sit down and have something to eat.”

  The thought of trying to swallow anything make Miranda choke. They wanted her to feel welcome? That wasn’t going to happen because to say she was most definitely not welcome would be an understatement. And the way they spoke to Mateo? Anger on his behalf tightened her chest. She knew all too well how it felt to be talked to as though you’re an outsider by someone who was supposedly family. If she didn’t get out of there, she might say something she’d regret.

  “Please call me Miranda,” she said, drawing in a calming breath. “It’s very nice to meet you. But I’m afraid I can’t stay to eat at the moment. The...the busy day and traveling has left me feeling a little unwell. I’m sorry, but I’ll have to visit with you a little later. Excuse me.”

  She pulled from Mateo’s grasp and practically ran from the room. It wasn’t a lie that she didn’t feel well. Her stomach roiled as she hurried through the huge French doors at the back of the house that opened to a patio, and beyond to a garden that even in November was appealing.

  The brisk air felt wonderful on her hot cheeks, and she gratefully gulped in large breaths of it. The moon hanging above the carefully trimmed hedges and shrubs lining the stone paths was barely larger than a sliver, but it cast enough light for her to see where she was going.

  She’d wanted an adventure. Wanted to see more of Spain. Wanted to spend a little time with interesting and attractive Mateo Alves. But not anymore. Not when they’d said loud and clear how they felt about her being there.

  Maybe she should just go home. Or somewhere else. Get on a train to Italy or France, or a plane to somewhere warm, before going back to cold and gray New York. Avoiding Thanksgiving with her family so she didn’t have to feel like an outsider hadn’t worked out so well, had it? She’d ended up feeling exactly the same way, worse even, in someone else’s home.

  Mateo could find some other solution to his problems with his family. She felt bad for him—she did. But she’d done what she’d promised, right? She’d posed as his fiancée, and now she could leave if she wanted to. Maybe he could still leverage that into the extra time he wanted to let his parents know he wasn’t moving back permanently, and, wow, she sure understood now why he didn’t want to.

  A shiver racked her, and she wrapped her arms around herself, realizing she’d been in such a hurry to get away from the smothering situation in the house that she hadn’t grabbed her coat. About to turn back, she felt warm wool drape over her shoulders and big hands holding it there. She didn’t have to turn to know it was her own coat and Mateo’s hands.

  “I’m so sorry, Miranda.” His fierce voice rumbled in her ear. “I knew they wouldn’t be happy, but their behavior was worse than I expected. I apologize for the way they acted.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not okay. I’m trying to excuse them because they’re frustrated with me that I moved away, now leaving our estate without anyone to manage it full-time. They’re worried about my father’s health problems, and I admit he looks more frail than I’d realized. And they’re still struggling with the pain of my brother’s death, their favorite son. I hope you understand that it’s all a very heavy weight on them.”

  “Favorite son?” Miranda stared, then realized he was utterly serious. “Why would you say that? They want you to come back to your home. To take your brother’s place.”

  “Only because he’s gone. Believe me, there was no doubt they considered their elder son to be their best son. They insisted he serve only one year in the Spanish army because they needed him here. He was always a huge support to both of them. Whereas they were happy for me to serve four years, and I’m thankful for that. It helped me find my calling, which is one of the reasons I don’t want to move back here permanently.”

  “Is your father too ill to take on the responsibilities of the estate again for at least a little while?”

  “Unfortunately, yes.” He sighed, and the deep pain in his eyes was obvious. “He was diagnosed with Parkinson’s six years ago. You can see he speaks and moves slowly, and suffers from a tremor. He’s diabetic as well. So it made sense for him to relinquish his responsibilities to Emilio. Except they insisted he marry as soon as possible, and chose his wife for him. As they’ve wanted to do for me, but I have no intention of ever getting married.”

  “No? You told me that on the plane, but I wasn’t sure you meant it.” Somehow, it didn’t surprise her, though. Even when he was being charming and wonderful, there was a part of him that seemed closed off. That he didn’t care to share. She wondered why, and even as she did so, that part of her brain that was self-protective started whispering again. Reminding her that she didn’t really know him, that he didn’t do long-term relationships, and that falling for him would be the worst idea ever. “Why not?”

  “Even if it had ever crossed my mind, the way women always acted when they knew my lineage made it impossible to know if they liked me or my title. And if I ever did marry someday, it certainly wouldn’t be someone of my parents’ choosing. My brother’s marriage definitely convinced me not to.”

  “It wasn’t good? He didn’t love her?”

  “He actually cared for her very much.” A bitter laugh came from his lips. “But Camilla cares only for herself, what she can buy with our family’s money, and spending time with the wealthy Spaniards she’s met through Emilio and my parents. She enjoys the company of men greatly, and hurt my brother deeply with her numerous affairs. I never told him that I was one of her targets be
fore I moved to New York, but he knew about plenty of others.”

  “That’s horrible! Why do your parents think she’s so wonderful, then?”

  “Emilio insisted that I not tell them, to let them continue to believe that the woman they’d chosen for their son was a paragon of virtue and a devoted wife. Which was probably a mistake on my part.” He stared off toward the trees before heaving a sigh. “Anyway, I don’t know how they’ve been able to turn a blind eye to her shallowness, though I suspect it’s because they don’t want to know.”

  The Alves family didn’t have as many skeletons in the closet—or out of it—as the Davenports, but they certainly had their share. Maybe every family did.

  “Listen, I get why you wanted me to come, with your parents putting pressure on you to marry someone they like, and come back here when you don’t want to. But now that you’ve introduced me as your fiancée and they were obviously unhappy about it, I think I should leave. Maybe you can use that to play into your not coming back for a while or something. You’ll have to figure that out, but I just... It’s too uncomfortable for me to stay.”

  “Is that why you practically ran from the room? I hope you know it has nothing to do with you—it’s because of their grief, and their anger with me. Please don’t take it personally.”

  Please don’t take it personally. Isn’t that what her father had always told her? It was hard not to take it personally, though, when you knew that, inside, someone greatly disliked you, even when they tried not to show it.

  “I’m afraid that’s impossible.”

  “Why? My parents don’t even know the real you, so why would you care what they think?” The concerned brown eyes looking down at her seemed genuinely perplexed. Probably because self-confidence practically oozed from the man.

  “I... Nothing.” Sharing her sad, strange and shocking life history wasn’t something she enjoyed doing. Lots of people in New York and elsewhere still remembered the scandal, but if they didn’t, the last thing she wanted to do was talk about it.

  “Miranda.” His hands cupped her cheeks as they had before, reminding her of that searing kiss. “I’d like to know why you would let my parents’ attitude mean anything to you.”

  She stared into his eyes, and the warmth and obvious caring there, so astonishingly sincere despite having known the man only a matter of days, somehow made her want to talk about it after all. Help him understand why she needed to leave, and not be angry with her about it.

  “Everyone believed that the famous Davenport family was close-knit and perfect. And to some degree they are. My brothers and sister are all close to one another, and to...to Hugo and Vanessa. Until a huge scandal rocked the Davenports’ world.”

  “What kind of scandal?”

  “Me,” she whispered. “I was the scandal.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I grew up in Chicago with a single mom. Well, I did meet Hugo a few times, then I guess he was worried that contact between us might hurt the rest of his family, and he couldn’t allow that to happen. That it wouldn’t be fair to his other children and wife if they knew about me, so we didn’t have any more contact.”

  “That makes me think less of Hugo Davenport.”

  “I think he was in a difficult situation. He’d made a mistake having an affair with my mother, with me as the result. He had to put his wife and family first.”

  “And his reputation. I think you’re giving him too much credit, Miranda.”

  Maybe. She’d chosen not to judge him, perhaps because her mother had always insisted she shouldn’t. Had told her he was a good man, and that she was the one who insisted his responsibilities were to his other family.

  “So what happened?”

  “My mother died when I was sixteen, and I was all alone. I didn’t know what I was going to do, but she’d always shown me where her important papers were, like her will, so of course I had to go through it, to see what was there.”

  Talking about it felt like she’d ripped open a scab from a painful wound that still hadn’t fully healed. Even thirteen years later, the memories of how horrible all that had been brought tears to her eyes. Memories of feeling so lost and alone, missing her sweet, wonderful mother, and having no idea what her future might bring other than foster homes and poverty. Filled with hopelessness and a feeling of despair, wondering if she should even make the effort to endure it.

  “Ah, Miranda.” His hands moved from her cheeks to her back beneath her open coat, tugging her closer against the warmth of his hard body. “What a terrible thing for you to have to go through.”

  She nodded, letting her forehead rest against his chest, lingering there. It felt nice, and she realized it had been a long time since she’d allowed herself to really lean on someone else.

  “In her papers, I found a letter she’d written to me, telling me that if anything ever happened to her, I should contact Hugo Davenport, and she gave me his phone number and address.” She lifted her gaze back to his warm one. “At first, he was shocked to hear from me. Then even more shocked when we both found out money he’d instructed his accountant give to us every month for my support had been embezzled by the guy. My mother had had no idea he’d been sending money. So I had almost no financial resources.”

  “What? That’s unbelievable!” He stared and shook his head. “So he finally stepped up? Acknowledged you?”

  “He did. I became Hugo Davenport’s daughter, and a member of the Davenport family. But not before someone leaked the news, much to the media’s delight and my shame.”

  “Your shame? Your father’s shame, not yours.”

  “I suppose, though it didn’t feel that way. The whole family was not only shocked and humiliated that their father had had an affair that was now very publicly out in the open, but that a child had been conceived as a result. I give my father credit, though. He could have just financially supported me, but instead he insisted I live with all of them. It was a little rocky at first, as you can imagine.” And was that an understatement, or what? An emotional and physical upheaval for everyone in the house. “No one was sure how to deal with the person responsible for all the turmoil and embarrassment in their lives at that moment. A sister they’d never known about, a new-found daughter, a girl who was the result of your husband’s infidelity.”

  “Dios mio,” Mateo murmured. “I can’t imagine. Were they unkind to you?”

  “Not exactly. Distant, at first. You can guess that it felt beyond awkward, living there with all these people I didn’t even know. I...I missed my mom so much.” She swallowed down the tears that threatened even after all these years. “From the beginning, Charles was very kind to me. Eventually, as we spent time together, my brothers and sister accepted me, and I’m so grateful that we’re close now. Especially Penny and me. Hugo went out of his way to be nice and supportive, I suppose to make up for all the years he wasn’t there.”

  “As well he should have.”

  His tone was so dark and grim it made her smile a little. “I know the way he dealt with it before wasn’t perfect. But his taking me in, his caring, was like a miracle. There were some dark days after my mom died, and I thought I’d be alone forever. I thought my life was over. But him wanting me to know my siblings and for them to know me was a wonderful gift. I’m coming to believe that, in spite of what I know about Hugo and Vanessa’s relationship and his infidelity, good marriages do exist. That someday I might be able to find a man who loves me. A husband who will always be there for me and a family that is truly and completely my own.”

  “I’m surprised that you still believe that’s possible, after all you’ve been through.”

  “There are a lot of times I’m not sure who I am or what I’m worth, but I’m learning as I go along.”

  “Now, that is something I completely understand.” His gaze searched hers before he
slowly nodded. “Learning things as we go along seems to be part of life, doesn’t it?”

  “Yeah, it does.”

  Thankfully, he left it at that. The insecurities she still carried around were private, and not something she liked to talk about.

  Seconds ticked by before he spoke again. “You don’t go into any detail about your stepmother. How did she feel about you moving in?”

  “I’m sure you can guess the answer.” Her lips twisted, and her stomach did, too, because even now her resentment toward Miranda was very clear. “Vanessa hated that my father insisted I come there to live. And I get that, you know? Probably every time she looked at me, it was like a slap in her face. A reminder that her husband had cheated on her.”

  “Again, though, it wasn’t your fault.”

  “She tried, I think. And I tried. I tried so hard to be a model house guest. Which is how I felt for a long time, you know? To feel like a real member of the family was impossible. No matter what I did, I was the trespasser who wasn’t truly welcomed by everyone in the house. Who wasn’t quite a real Davenport.” She forced a smile, figuring she should just stop talking now. Knowing she had to be boring Mateo with her sad story. “Anyway. I’m sorry, but I don’t want to be that unwelcome person here, too, even if it’s just for a short time. Maybe that’s childish of me. But I think it’s best if I just go somewhere else for the rest of my vacation, and not make your parents miserable.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  THE VULNERABILITY, THE little-girl-lost look he’d glimpsed back in the tunnel and again on the funicular was clear in Miranda’s eyes. It tugged at Mateo’s heart the way it had then, and at the same time guilt tightened inside him. It seemed like he had an awful lot to feel guilty about these days, and he had to wonder if maybe that said something about the way he’d been living his life. If maybe he should figure out what changes he needed to make to fix it.