He reached for the shirt. She moved and his palm brushed against her breasts. She shivered and her nipples hardened. He noticed. His eyes darkened. “Take it off,” he said softly.
She moved back a little. “Not unless you take your shirt off first.”
He stiffened.
She folded her arms. “As long as you wear a shirt in bed, so do I.”
“If you’re going to start that again…” He turned away.
“But—”
“I will not discuss it, Isabella,” he said in a hard voice. “If you do not wish to share a bed with me, then that’s your prerogative. I shall sleep elsewhere.” He climbed out of bed, gathered up his clothes, and strode stiffly from the room.
Bella slept badly that night. She kept waking up, thinking Luke was back, but he wasn’t.
Such a short time a wife, yet already she was so used to sleeping with a big, warm man at her back, she couldn’t sleep well without him. The bed felt too large, too empty, too cold.
He appeared at the breakfast table only moments after her. She was about to ask him where he’d slept when Ramón and Perlita arrived.
“Was this yours?” Perlita asked, placing a small cloth doll on the table beside Bella.
Bella picked it up. It was the doll her old nursemaid, Marta, had made her after Papa had given Perlita the doll Bella had seen. Bella must have told Marta something about a golden-haired doll, and Marta made her one.
Bella had flung it away in a rage. She wanted a golden-haired doll from Barcelona, not a stupid homemade thing. But afterward she’d felt bad and had retrieved the homely little doll and hugged Marta.
She hadn’t seen it for years, but it didn’t look quite the same. It was heavier, and the hair was different—golden silk, not thick yellow wool. The doll’s clothes were new as well.
Bella glanced from the doll to her sister. “I don’t understand.”
“I hope you don’t mind. She was looking very shabby and worn,” Perlita said. “So I fixed her and made her some new clothes.”
Bella stared. “You made these clothes?” She examined them. The doll was dressed in traditional Aragon dress, each item finely embroidered and perfect down to the last detail.
Perlita smiled. “S í, I like dolls and I like to sew. I make all my own clothes.”
“Youmakethem?” Bella exclaimed. Perlita made all those gorgeous dresses?
Perlita laughed. “You think Ramón would waste money on fancy dresses when Valle Verde is in need?”
To Bella’s amazement, Ramón stopped shoveling food down and kissed Perlita’s hand with an almost courtly air. “It’s not a waste to adorn my beautiful Perla.”
It was almost charming. But then he resumed stuffing food in his mouth and the charm evaporated.
The rest of breakfast passed more or less in silence. Bella had no intention of talking to her husband about the previous night with an audience present, and since they were never very talkative in the morning, nobody noticed the slight constraint between them.
After breakfast was over, it was time to leave Valle Verde. Their bags were stowed in the carriage, and everyone gathered at the front of the house to bid them farewell.
Bella said good-bye to all the servants first. It was harder than she’d thought. Even though she’d been gone for eight years, their farewells were very affectionate. “Come back soon,señora, and do not forget us.” She was no longer Little Master.
There was only one master now at Valle Verde.
And even he managed a passably civilized good-bye, kissing her hand—he must have been taking lessons—and shaking Luke’s hand in a hearty manner. No one would believe, seeing him now, that only the day before he’d offered to murder her husband.
She turned to say good-bye to her sister, but Perlita had disappeared back inside the house. “You forgot this,” she said, returning with the little cloth doll. “Take it with you and keep it in memory of your foolish sister.”
She hugged Bella tightly, kissing her on both cheeks. Bella fought the tears. Perlita made no attempt to hide hers.
Bella turned to get into the carriage, then changed her mind. She marched back up the stairs toward Ramón, grabbed him by the shirtfront, and dragged him aside.
