Bella dismissed that with a wave of her hand. “She never told me anyth—” She broke off, as a thought occurred to her. “But… if I were a widow—”
“You’d be a very rich one, yes.”
“You fool! You crazy, reckless fool!” She flew at him and thumped him on the chest.
“What? I thought you’d be pleased.”
“So Ramóncouldhave killed you and forced me to—!”
“Oh, Ramón.” He rolled his eyes. “Why does everyone assume that I can’t handle Ramón—will you stop that, you violent little hussy? This is the correct response to learning of a husband’s nobility of character.” His mouth came down over hers, silencing all protests.
After a moment he murmured, “Yes, that’s the kind of thing I mean. Now, let me introduce you to one of the benefits of traveling by carriage.”
Just then there was a loud crack, the carriage listed to one side and slowly ground to a halt. “Problem with the wheel,señor,” the coachman called out.
Luke cursed and released her.
Sixteen
They arrived in Huesca shortly after eight o’clock. The cracked wheel, a flooded river, and even a flock of geese on the road had all contributed to a journey fraught with difficulties and delays. By the time they rolled into town, Luke was in a filthy mood.
Very little pleased him.
After some delay they found a suitable inn, but the only available bedchamber was on the top floor, and was small with a low and uneven ceiling on which he banged his head. Twice.
But he was not going to search the blasted town for another blasted room.
He was tired; he’d spent the day dragging carriages out of mud, changing wheels himself, because hired blasted coachmen had no blasted idea, and chasing geese all over the road, and he wanted his dinner. He was hungry enough to eat a horse.
“Ah, but dinner will not be served for at least another hour,señor.”
“Blasted Spanish hours! And no, I could not be tempted with a blasted boiled egg—I want proper food, not a nursery supper!”
Bella pressed her lips firmly together trying not to laugh.
“I can see that dimple,” he grumbled as the landlord fled. “Think this is all very funny, don’t you, but it wasn’t you who had to ruin your boots in that blasted mud.”
“No,” she agreed. “Nor did I slip in the mess left by a blasted goose and fall on my blasted backside in the middle of the blasted road.” A choked giggle escaped her.
“So glad to have entertained you, my lady,” he said with a sardonic bow. But his mood eased, and a glass of excellent French brandy hastily produced by the landlord did the rest.
By the time dinner arrived he was a lot mellower.
“We’ll make it an early night,” he told her. “Rise at dawn, get on the road as soon as possible. Does that suit you?”
She nodded. She was used to rising at dawn. Convents didn’t encourage lazy mornings in bed, though Bella longed for one. Mama used to lie in bed until almost noon sometimes, reading novels in French and English, drinking chocolate, and nibbling on sweetmeats. It seemed the height of indulgence.
But she was tired and ready for bed, and she was weary of trying to deal with the legacy of the past—and failing. She was looking forward to her new life in England. The sooner it started, the better.
“How many days until your sister’s ball?”
“Ten.” He’d said it without hesitation. Didn’t even have to think, to work out the days. That told her how much it was on his mind.
“Do you think we’ll make it in time?”
He shrugged. “No telling. We’re cutting it very fine, and there’s no telling what the weather will be once we get to the coast. If the wind is in the right direction, and the tides… and we find a ship ready to take us straightaway…” He drained the last of the wine in his glass. “But if we get any more days like the last one…” He shook his head.
But if they didn’t make it in time, Bella knew it wouldn’t be the fault of the winds or the tides or anything encountered on the road. It would be her fault and no one else’s. If she hadn’t come on her quest to save her sister—her futile quest—they would probably have reached the coast by now, and could even be on a ship and sailing to England.
