Passionate Pursuit (19 page)

* * * *

Beatriz’s vision dimmed. The room swayed.

Nuncio rushed to her side and took her hand. She gripped his fingers, surprised yet grateful for his comfort.

Shoulders squared, Don Larnaz faced Tomás. “The deal is done. Her dowry paid. She has no choice except to honor our contract.”

“So you can keep the money.” Tomás made a dismissive noise. “Or is the problem you have no means to pay the sum back?”

He clenched his fists and teeth. “The dowry is mine, given in good faith.”

“Then keep it. The money means nothing. I can settle matters with her father, pay him back what he gave you.”

She pulled her hand from Nuncio’s. “Tomás, no.”

The men ignored her.

Sweat streamed down Don Larnaz’s face. “Her papá expects her to wed a marquis, not the son of a count. I know who you are and what you lack.”

“As does Beatriz. She can decide her own future.” Tomás looked over. “Do you want to wed this man?”

She’d rather die, but couldn’t let Don Larnaz or her father use Tomás for what they wanted. “I could never ask you to pay back my dowry.”

“I offered. Nothing you say will change my mind. Do you want to wed him?”

“Never.”

Don Larnaz stared at her as he would an animal he owned, his ugly smile promising hell on earth. “You have no choice.”

“She just made hers,” Tomás said. “Leave at once on your own or my guards will see you past the gate.

“Come.” Tomás cupped her elbow and led her from the room to the grand stairway.

Don Larnaz rushed after them. “This is not the end.”

Tomás squeezed her elbow. “Pay him no heed.”

He couldn’t be serious.

Don Larnaz followed them, shaking his fist and shouting, “I will have you as my wife.” He bellowed through the entryway, “You will never get away from me.”

Tomás and Beatriz mounted the stairs. She pressed closer to him. “Where are we going?”

“My bedchamber.”

“What?”

“Let me take care of things. All will be well.”

She had no idea how.

Nuncio kept flapping his hands and racing after Don Larnaz. “You must leave.”

“Get away from me, you old fool.” He lifted his face to Beatriz. “Whore.”

Tomás stopped and faced him.

Don Larnaz thrust out his belly. “Puto.” He spat.

Tomás stomped down the stairs, fists clenched, shoulders bunched. The marquis fled, slamming the door with such force its boom registered in her belly.

Tomás followed him.

“No, wait.” She ran after him.

Nuncio grabbed Tomás’s arm before he reached the door. “Violence will only make matters worse. You could end up answering charges.”

“Well worth it. Let go.”

“No.” Nuncio panted. “Think of Beatriz.”

She gripped Tomás’s other arm. “Please listen to us.”

He breathed hard. “I want to kill the puto.”

“I know.” She held fast. “But he ran so quickly he could very well have tripped and broke his neck saving you the trouble.”

Tomás laughed. “Let go of me.”

Neither she nor Nuncio did.

Tomás sighed. “I promise to behave.”

They released him.

“Come.” He led Beatriz up the stairs to the landing.

Señora Cisneros ran down the hall. “I heard shouting and the door slam. What happened?”

“Nothing,” Tomás took her candle. “Stay here and wait for my return.”

Once he and Beatriz were in his bedchamber, he lit several candles. After placing the holder to the side, he pulled her into his arms. “Why did you keep this from me?”

“I had no choice.” She pressed her palms against his broad back, and shuddered when she considered Don Larnaz holding her like this. “I was afraid.”

“You still are, trembling as though the swine had yet to leave.” He hugged her gently. “Did you think I would care what he said or let him take you away?”

“I never wanted to bring you trouble. I tried not to.”

“But I kept hounding you until you fell in love with me. Is that it? Are you sorry I behaved so badly?”

Beatriz laughed, surprised she could. “Never. What do we do now? What if he finds a way to fight you?”

“First, you need to take care of yourself. Stay in here until I return.”

She gripped his sleeve. “From where?”

“To speak to Señora Cisneros.”

“About what?”

“So many questions.” He cradled her cheek. “I have a surprise for you.”

“What? Where?”

“Take this.”

He handed her the miniature portrait her father had commissioned, claiming the practice was popular with elites. At the time, he hadn’t told Beatriz he’d planned to use her likeness to seek out a noble son-in-law. “This is your surprise? I want nothing of it.”

“I do, you look exquisite.” He put the piece on a cabinet. “However, my surprise has nothing to do with the painting. Stay here, please.”

He kissed her deeply, took Señora Cisneros’s candle, and left.

Beatriz wrung her hands and caught her reflection in a small mirror on the chest. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying, hair pointed in every direction. Dirt smeared her face and clothes. She looked worse than Don Larnaz ever could, and he was a filthy swine.

She snickered, then laughed so hard she couldn’t draw a full breath. Her laughter grew to quick tears, then to giggles. What a sorry mess she was. Not wanting to make the bed or chairs dirty, she sank to the floor and propped her back against the cabinet.

A short while ago, losing the orange peel had devastated her. Arguing with Tomás about being his mistress, with him not wanting anything to do with her, had ended Beatriz’s world. Then to have Nuncio summon her to the parlor where Don Larnaz had waited had been her worst nightmare. For an instant, she’d believed he’d lead her away from the castle with Tomás closing the door on them, relieved she was gone.

She covered her face, hating that she’d doubted him in the least. He’d repeatedly admitted his love when she’d denied him any response or the truth. Upon learning who she was, he hadn’t quit her as any sane man would, but had protected her instead, offering his wealth to keep her free.

If only her mother had known a man like him.

Someone rushed past in the hall. Others followed.

Activity sounded in the next room. Scraping, a clang, and thud, sounds made when someone shifted furniture about. The last person to have slept there was Zita. She’d insisted on the bedchamber closest to Tomás’s, with her mamá claiming the one on the other side, trapping the poor man between them.

More footfalls sounded, numerous individuals passing. Servants, she guessed.

Nuncio called out, “Everyone departed. I watched from the parapet. Send for me if you require anything.”

Silence. Tomás must have nodded rather than spoken.

The footfalls finally retreated and relative quiet settled in, broken by the door opening. Tomás looked at the chairs and the bed, finally rounded the corner, and spotted her on the floor.

“I need to teach you to sit as a proper lady does.”

She giggled. “I warn you, some have called me a poor student.”

“Give me their names so I can run them through.”

She didn’t deserve him. No woman did. He was too good for this earth. “Gracias.”

“For threatening to murder putos who dare slander you? What else is a warrior for?”

“You stood by me.” No one else had except her mother. Beatriz extended her hand. “I can never repay you.”

He wrapped his fingers around hers. “No one said you have to. Come, your surprise awaits.”

He brought her to the next room, closing the door behind them. A servant had turned down the bed and lit enough candles to make the large room seem cozy. Someone else had brought in a metal tub. Steam rose from the water. A delicate rose fragrance filled the air from scented oil.

“You want me to take a bath?”

“I want you to relax. I can handle the rest, even washing your back and hair.”

She sagged against him, wrapping her arms around his middle. “Can I do nothing for you?”

“Promise to wed me.”

“I want to.” She hugged him with all her strength. “I always have.”

“And here Fernando and Enrique said I had to wear you down.”

“What—who?”

“My brothers. I have five in all. Two are twins. I also have one sister, a father, two sisters-in-law, a niece, and a brand new nephew. The family also includes countless uncles, aunts, and cousins. Some we speak to. Others we try to ignore.”

She laughed. “What a family you have. Tell me more.”

“In time.” He leaned back enough to see her face. “I want to hear about you during your bath. Everything.”

He wanted the truth and certainly deserved to know what had brought her to this place in life. Tomás didn’t push, though, as other men might have. After helping her undress, he eased her into the warm fragrant water, and sank to one knee next to her.

She blew out a sigh. “How I missed this.”

“The bath or me tending you?”

“Both.” She ran her knuckles down his bristly cheek, loving how his whiskers scraped her skin. “You most, though, even with my aches.”

“You hurt? Where?”

“Every part of me.” She leaned back, letting water spill over her breasts. “Beating mattresses and draining pools is hard work.”

“Forgive me.” He turned her hand over and made a pained sound. “You have blisters. This is my fault.”

“Shh.” She silenced him with her fingertips on his lips. “You wanted me in the harem to remind me of our time there, no?”

“I thought if you recalled our love, you might change your mind about wedding me.”

“What a wonderful man you are, making me work until my skin nearly bled.”

He seemed torn between laughter and a sigh.

“Not once did I mind.” She trailed her fingers over his cheek. “I far preferred work here than my life in the city.”

“With your papá?”

She nodded. “He deals in the finest silks, velvets, and wools. Fabrics most nobles purchase from him.”

Tomás groaned. “I told you how to handle the harem silk when you already knew how, no?”

She nodded.

“Did you laugh at me afterward?”

“A little, while I was hauling heavy buckets of water to the courtyard.”

His cheeks reddened. “I should have been kinder to you.”

“No man has ever treated me with as much respect or tenderness, certainly not my father.”

“He beat you?”

Worse. “He ruled my life as though I were his property to do with as he willed, not a woman with a mind of my own or even a daughter who wanted his consideration.” She shifted slightly in the tub. Water splashed over the side. “Gaining his love was out of the question.”

“Why?”

“My mother and I were always tools for him to further his ends. He wants nothing more than to walk among nobles and royals. As a commoner, he had no way except through wealth. He met my mother by working for her father, a prosperous merchant who owned the company my papá now calls his.”

“He stole the business from your grandfather?”

“He wed my mother and controlled the business through her. From what my mother told me, my grandfather was a sweet man, wanting naught expect her happiness. He enjoyed the way my father took care of her in the early days, how devoted he seemed. After Grandpapá died, my father had full say in the operations. Until then, my mother had believed he’d married her for love. Mamá soon found out what his intent had been from the start.”

Beatriz had found her mother’s journal after her death. How eager she’d been to read a portion, hoping the words would ease her sorrow and loneliness. Fear built first, then rage at her father’s depravity. What he could do and had done to others.

Tomás searched her face. “He had mistresses?”

“No. Papá has no time or desire for passion. He craves wealth and power. The only way he could get what he wanted was through Mamá. She was quite beautiful.”

“Was?”

She cleared her throat, anger and sadness warring within her at what her mother had endured. How much her father had taken from them. “She died when I was fourteen. Everyone thought the fever had killed her, but he had. She couldn’t lie with the nobles any longer, humiliating herself to bring him what he wanted.”

“Wait.” Tomás took her hand. “Your father allowed your mother to couple with other men?”

“He arranged the encounters. As I said, she was quite beautiful. Many men wanted her. Papá encouraged the acts, especially the basest and most demeaning. The kind no woman would agree to willingly unless threatened or she needed money to eat. As long as the nobles did business with his company and allowed him to become a part of their world, letting him use their power for his own ends, he turned her over to them willingly.”

Tomás’s face paled. “How can that be? She had no chance to refuse?”

The journal entries proved she hadn’t. Beatriz would never forget her mother’s anguish and finally her losing the will to live. “In the beginning she did tell him no, repelled at the thought of what he’d demanded, even threatening to leave. He promised to impoverish her and take me away. Mamá feared for my safety.

“When she conceived again, she fell and lost the child. As I grew older, I wondered if she did so deliberately to spare the poor soul the life we had, him as a father. The physician said there would be no more children for her. Papá was enraged. I suspect he wanted her to become pregnant with a noble’s child so he could secure his hold even more, threatening the man with scandal if he failed to give Papá everything he wanted.”

“What of your mamá? How could any man do such a thing?”

“I doubt he thought of her at all. She was nothing more than an instrument to him. Unless he needed her for something, he barely looked her way. If she failed to behave precisely as he expected, he raged at her, threatening to harm me.”

Tomás squeezed her hand. “Did he ever follow through?”

“No. I was valuable property in his eyes. Scars from beatings would have lessened my ability to attract a noble husband for him to use for his own ends.”

“Larnaz.”

“Sadly, yes. I fear Papá has met his match finally. Don Larnaz is as contemptible as he is. A man who beats women to cow them or because he enjoys their pain. A noble without funds given his lifestyle. I heard he likes to wager and uses the most expensive whores. Wedding me would give him access to my father’s wealth. My marriage to him would secure Papá’s place with the nobility. Not as a mere merchant or a man who handed his beautiful wife over, but as the father-in-law of a marquis.”