by Kris Tualla
The Spaniard grunted, his features showing disdain. “It seems we will need to crush them ourselves.”
“Under these circumstances, Jakob…” Percy deftly shifted the conversation away from Henry’s embarrassing recalcitrance and back to his Nordic friend. “I believe you might leave the Order early, without making Christian angry.”
Diego’s expression eased a bit. “He might even be relieved that you were able to escape before he was forced into action.”
Jakob regarded the two men sitting with him at the table. He respected both of them quite highly and their words made sense. And yet, he was still reluctant to agree. Why?
Avery.
The thought of her punched him in the gut.
He did not want to leave Avery, because if he did, there was no guarantee that he would ever find her again.
“The truth is, my father might die before I could arrive. In fact, he may already be dead.” Jakob gave a reluctant shrug and drained his mug.
February 25, 1519
Three days later, Jakob stood in Avery’s small drawing room, waiting for her to appear. The church bells rang out ten times. Jakob had been awake since five.
After hours of sleepless agonizing, he realized that he did need to travel home to Arendal, and leave as soon as possible. Even if his father was dead before Jakob arrived, this was his chance to show his willingness to reconcile with his mother and brothers.
The fact that, once his mother’s letter finally reached him, he chose to leave the esteemed Order of the Golden Fleece early to be at his father’s bedside—or grave—would show his family that he never forgot about them. That his letters to them were sincere.
That the rift was never his doing or his desire.
The other consideration he agonized over involved Avery. As much as he wished it was possible, he could not bring himself to repeat his proposal of marriage at this time.
Avery could not abandon her responsibilities at this pivotal point. Her financial future was at stake—and even if she eventually returned to Catherine and the Tudor court, she needed an income to maintain her status there. New gowns and elegant jewelry were as expensive as they were expected. The queen’s chief lady-in-waiting’s appearance was a direct reflection on Catherine and Henry.
Jakob knew what he must do, as much as that decision carved a hole in his heart.
When Avery entered the drawing room, Jakob’s knees weakened. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever met, and he found it hard to remember that he did not like her much after their first meeting. Now he was completely captivated by her.
This interview was going to be much harder than he realized.
Avery smiled at him and held out her hands as she approached. “I have not seen much of you lately. Has the Order been so demanding of your time?”
Jakob gripped Avery’s hands and pulled her into his embrace. He rested his chin on her head and held her close, pressing the full length of his body against hers. His throat had tightened and he was afraid that if he tried to speak, he would sound like an English bullfrog.
Avery’s arms squeezed his waist. “What is amiss, Jakob?”
He fished his mother’s letter from his pocket without letting go of her. Then he loosened his embrace and handed it to her without a word.
Avery’s brow wrinkled as she scanned the seal. “Is this from your king?”
Jakob cleared his throat, hoping his voice worked. “No. My mother.”
Avery’s dark eyes lifted to his and the frown remained in place. “What does it say?”
Jakob unfolded the parchment and translated the Norsk into English—Spanish was one step too far removed for him to manage at the moment. Though his voice wavered, Avery’s gaze did not.
“You must be glad that your family wishes you to return.” Avery pivoted and stepped away from him so he could not see her face.
“I am,” he admitted. “Though the timing is unfortunate.”
“Because of the Order,” she said over her shoulder.
“Yes. And…”
“And?” Avery still faced away from him. Her shoulders were tense, her hands in front of her waist.
“And… I love you, Avery. You know this.”
She gave a small nod.
“But I must leave. And you—” Jakob cleared his throat again. “You must remain here until your situation is settled.”
Avery did not move, nor did she speak.
“I will write to you,” he offered.
“I do not know where I will be.”
Jakob nodded, though she could not see him. “Catherine will know.”
“How long?”
“I do not know.”
When Avery turned to face him again, her cheeks were surprisingly dry and her expression resolute. “Will I ever see you again, Jakob?”
He laid a hand of promise over his heart. “I shall do everything I am able to assure that you do.”
Her eyes narrowed. “And what then?”
Jakob wanted shout, I will marry you—but restraint wisely prevailed. “And then, we shall do whatever we wish to do.”
Avery closed the gap between them. “Tomorrow is the one week deadline. Esteban will expect his answer from the duke.”
Startled by the sudden shift in their conversation, Jakob required a moment to think of what to say. All that came to mind was, “Yes. I suppose he will.”
Avery’s expression was odd. “Good.”
“Good?” That made no sense. “How is that good?”
Avery blinked up at him as if she forgot he was in the room. “Would you excuse me? I have an appointment.”
Jakob was completely befuddled by Avery’s strange reaction.
“Of course.” He bowed from the waist and walked past her, out onto the balcony, and down the palazzo staircase, abruptly feeling the need for predictable male companionship, and several pitchers of very strong wine.
*****
Avery crumpled to the carpet as soon as Jakob was gone. Her heart pummeled her ribs and her sweating hands trembled. She had reached an impasse and a decision was required.
Stunned by the solution which exploded in her mind during her exchange with Jakob, Avery needed time to examine it thoroughly. The problem was, she did not have time. In order for the idea to succeed, she must act immediately.
“Is this plan wise?” she whispered. “Or am I the consummate fool for even considering it?”
Avery stared at the carpet, its vibrant colors blurring as she considered losing Jakob forever. Every objection to the path which she was considering faded away when confronted with that possibility.
“Even if this plan fails, and I return to Catherine a pauper and a servant,” she murmured to no one, “the possibility of a future with Jakob is worth that risk.”
With a deep breath of determination, Avery climbed to her feet. She hurried down to the stables to instruct Antonio to hitch the horse to the carriage, before running up to her room to change clothes. With Zurina’s help, she would present herself as the confident business women she prayed that she was.
Her first stop: Señor Garcia, Paolo’s lawyer.
*****
Three hours later, Avery climbed out of Señor Garcia’s carriage and strode down the pier to the shipbuilder’s office with the lawyer hurrying behind her. After speaking with an incredulous Señor Garcia, she felt confident that her plan would work. All she required now was the self-possession to carry it off.
The shipbuilder looked up at her, clearly surprised to see an elegantly dressed woman at his door.
“May I help you, my lady?”
Avery stepped forward, her chin high, and extended her gloved hand. “I am Señora Averia Galaviz de Mendoza, Vizcondesa de Catalonya. And you are?”
The man paled. “My name is Señor Juan-Pablo Peña, my lady. It is a pleasure to meet you.”
Avery cocked a brow. “Yes, I am quite certain of that. May I present my lawyer, Señor Guillermo Garcia?”
S
eñor Peña shifted his nervous gaze to the man. “My pleasure.”
Avery glanced around the office. “Is there a chair?”
Señor Peña pushed his own seat toward her. “Please take mine.”
“Thank you.” Avery lowered herself slowly. “I have come to make you an offer for my husband’s ships.”
The man blinked. “I am sorry for your loss, Condesa. But the ships now belong to Señor Esteban Gonzalez.”
Avery pinned the man with the hardest gaze she could muster. “Señor Gonzalez is my majordomo. He forged my ill husband’s signature and embezzled from his accounts to pay for the ships.”
She gave an unconcerned flip of her wrist. “Thankfully, Paolo died before the scheme could be completed, or I would be left destitute.”
Señor Peña’s regard moved to Señor Garcia’s. “Is this true?”
“So it would seem,” the lawyer answered.
The shipbuilder frowned. “And as his lawyer, you had no idea?”
Avery looked pointedly at Garcia. The barrister seemed to wish to sink through the floor and drop into the waters below. “I was not consulted.”
Peña made a disgusted sound.
Avery turned back to face him. “We are not here to discuss what has been done, but what will be done. I know that there is a balance of three hundred thousand maravedis required to complete both ships. Am I correct?”
The shipbuilder hesitated. Avery had deliberately quoted the discounted price, hoping that when she made her actual offer, her generosity would prompt the man to accept quickly.
“In truth…” he began.
Avery forestalled his objection. “Señor Garcia, would you please give Señor Peña the document I asked you to draw up.”
The lawyer handed him the contract.
“What is this?” Peña asked, squinting at the parchment.
“The deed to the Mendoza palazzo.”
The shipbuilder’s confused gaze lifted from the document to Avery. “What has this to do with me?”
“I will deed it to you.” Avery flashed a cunning smile. “In exchange for both ships.”
The man’s jaw fell slack. He glanced, wide-eyed, at Señor Garcia as if expecting the lawyer to object.
“As I am sure you are aware, the palazzo is worth quite a bit more than the balance on the two ships,” Avery continued.
“Yes, my lady.” Señor Peña’s eyes shifted back to her, before returning to the lawyer’s. “Is this offer legitimate?”
Garcia nodded. “Yes.”
Avery stood. “So. Will you accept?”
Señor Peña’s features split into a wide smile. “Without hesitation, Vizcondesa! Yes! The ships are yours!”
*****
Avery stood in Gustavo’s drawing room, Señor Garcia still close by her side. One obstacle had been bested; the second—albeit simpler—obstacle was in front of her.
“Lady Averia.” Gustavo walked carefully into the room, his eyes flicking to the lawyer and back to her. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”
“Señor Gustavo Salazar, may I present Señor Guillermo Garcia, Paolo Mendoza’s lawyer.” Avery smiled. “May we sit?”
“Yes—yes of course. May I offer refreshment?” The startled Gustavo was already pulling a bell for service.
“Thank you.” Avery settled into a padded chair. Señor Garcia did the same.
Gustavo returned to their seats and claimed one of his own.
Avery spoke first. “I have a proposition for you, Gustavo. While it differs from the one you gave me, I do believe you will be pleased.”
His brow lowered. “Go on.”
“I have traded my palazzo for the pair of ships. I own them wholly now.”
“You did?” Gustavo appeared as stunned as the shipbuilder had. “You do?”
“Yes. Unfortunately, I know nothing about running a trade business.” She waited for Gustavo to presume her next statement.
He did. And he looked a bit offended. “Are you offering me the job of running it for you?”
“No, not exactly. I am offering you a partnership.” Avery grinned. “You shall pay me sixty-five percent of the profits, until I earn back the three hundred thousand maravedis.”
Gustavo’s eyes narrowed. “And then?”
“And then I will give you forty-nine percent ownership of the vessels, and sixty percent of the profits.”
Gustavo turned to the lawyer, just as the shipbuilder had. “Will there be a legal contract?”
“There already is.” Señor Garcia pulled it from his leather pouch and set in on the table in front of their chairs. “All that is required is your signature.”
Gustavo picked up the document and stared at it in disbelief.
Avery reached over and laid her hand on Gustavo’s forearm. “There is one other consideration, Gustavo. I am expecting about one hundred thousand maravedis in funding from Queen Catherine. I shall give you what you need to hire a crew and purchase the first shipment.”
Gustavo’s gaze shot to hers. “Will I be required to pay that back as well?”
Avery shook her head. “No. I will make my own arrangements with the queen.”
A servant entered with a tray of olives, cheeses, and smoked fish, plus a large decanter of wine. Gustavo waited silently while their glasses were filled and the servant exited, closing the door behind him.
His gray eyes were wary as he considered Avery. When he spoke, his voice was soft. “And what about my marriage proposal, Averia?”
She gave him an apologetic look. “I am respectfully declining your offer of marriage, Gustavo. But I do believe that my counter proposal gives you what you truly desired.”
“You underestimate yourself, my love.” Gustavo pressed his hand to his heart, unfortunately imitating Jakob’s parting gesture. “I would have been a good husband to you.”
“I have no doubt of that.” But I am in love with another man. Avery gave herself a mental shake. “Will you accept these terms?”
Gustavo’s shoulders slumped before he drew a breath and straightened in his chair. He lifted his wine glass, smiling with both defeat and triumph in his expression.
“I do accept. Shall we toast to our new partnership?”
Avery raised her glass and touched it to his. “And to our shared future successes.”
After they drank from their goblets, Gustavo signed the contracts. When they were finished and the signatures witnessed, Señor Garcia took his leave, now that the legal aspects of Avery’s plan were accomplished. Though she had no home at the moment, she had secured the ships and therefore an income.
“I shall open an account in Barcelona for you to deposit my shares into,” Avery said. “And you will be expected to show your balance sheets to my accountant and send me a copy of them every quarter.”
“You have thought this out rather well.” Gustavo looked askance at her. “How long have you been planning this?”
Avery laughed. “About six hours.”
Gustavo recoiled. “Six hours? What prompted this sudden decision?”
Avery slipped a large olive into her mouth to give herself time to construct a suitable answer. Her respect for Gustavo required honesty; she only needed to offer it kindly, so as not to hurt him further.
“I discovered this morning that I was about to lose something very precious to me. Someone, actually.”
A wash of understanding smoothed Gustavo’s brow. He huffed a wry chuckle. “Well I hope he deserves you, whomever he is.”
And I hope he wants me.
“Thank you, Gustavo.” Avery finished her wine. “Might I have another glass before I go?”
Chapter Nineteen
Avery climbed out of her carriage, using her groom Antonio’s hand to steady herself. It wasn’t the wine that made her wobbly—it was fear.
Everything she had accomplished today was intended to make what she was about to do possible. The only factor which she could not control was Jakob. His reaction was as unpr
edictable as the path of a butterfly, and that knowledge was what made her so apprehensive now.
When she conceived this plan after he left her this morning—was it really only this morning?—she knew that whatever Jakob said or did, she would survive. Whether she would survive happily was yet to be seen.
Avery took the stairs slowly, forcing herself to breathe deeply in an attempt to slow her heart. When she reached the first floor of the palazzo, she followed a servant girl to the dining room.
“Is Sir Hansen dining early this evening?” Avery asked, surprised by the choice of room.
The girl gave her a puzzled look. “No, my lady.”
Avery looked at the dark purple sky; the sunset had only recently faded. “What time is it?”
“A quarter hour past eight bells.”
Avery’s stomach grumbled. With a start, she realized she had never taken the time for a midday meal. “Thank you. I was not aware.”
The girl opened the door.
Avery hesitated. Then she squared her shoulders, lifted her chin, and entered the room.
*****
Jakob was surprised when Avery appeared just as he was enjoying the first course of his solitary supper. She was dressed quite differently than she had been this morning. Then, her hair was loosely tied and her gown serviceable. Now, she stood in his dining room in her full and formal countess glory.
Jakob rose to his feet, glad to still be clad in a velvet tunic, and not only his shirt. “Welcome Avery. I was not expecting you.”
“I did not realize the hour.” She looked stricken. “I can come back when you have finished.”
Her eyes dropped to his soup and he heard her belly rumble. Suppressing a smile, he gestured toward Percy’s empty seat. “I would be happy for you to join me. As you can see, I am dining alone this evening.”
She looked up at him. “I do not wish to impose.”
Jakob walked around the end of the table and pulled out Percy’s chair. “Please sit, Avery. My soup is growing cold.”
She gave a brief smile and took the place offered to her. Jakob motioned to a servant, before reclaiming his chair. The man quickly ladled out another bowl of the fish stew and set it in front of Avery. Her stomach rumbled again.