The truth was there, staring her in the face. Like the fathers and brothers of the other girls who remained in the convent, Lieutenant Ripton had taken her money and abandoned her. He was not much better than Ramón. He’d done it more kindly than Ramón, perhaps, but in the long run, the result was the same.
Some nights, lying in her hard, narrow bed, Bella secretly wept for her broken dreams. But tears did nothing, so she scrubbed them away. She would look up through her high, barred window and gaze at the stars outside.
There was a world out there, and she wanted to be part ofit.
The other girls continued to taunt her, teasing her about her imaginary husband. And Bella still defended him, still stubbornly claimed there was an important reason why he couldn’t come—one had one’s pride, after all—but nobody believed her; not even Bella herself. It was a routine like everything that happened in the convent.
She said to Alejandra, “You could come with me, if you wanted.”
“Come where?”
“I’m leaving the convent.” Her announcement was followed by a stunned silence.
“Is he comi—” Paloma began.
“No. Nobody is coming for me, Paloma.” Isabella glanced at Sister Beatriz, who was still asleep, and said in a lowered voice, “I’m leaving anyway.”
“Reverend Mother won’t allow it,” Alejandra said.
Bella shrugged. “She can’t stop me. I’m a married woman, and in two weeks I will be one-and-twenty.” And if Reverend Mother tried to stop her, she’d go over the wall. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t done it before, and Reverend Mother knew it.
Alejandra sniffed. “I don’t believe you. What will you do? How will you support yourself? Who will protect you? It’s dangerous—”
“I will support myself,” Bella said. “And I will protect myself. I won’t stay here, waiting forever for someone to rescue me. Life isn’t a fairy tale.”
“Isabella Ripton,” said a voice from the doorway.
All the girls jumped guiltily.
“Isabella,” Sister Josefina repeated as she entered the door. She was the youngest and prettiest of the nuns, closest in age to the girls, merry and lively, but dedicated to her vocation. “Tidy yourself up. Your hair is a mess. Reverend Mother wants you to come to her office at once. You have a visitor!”
“A visitor? Who?” In eight years, Bella had never had a visitor. Not since Ramón had come looking for her, and failed to find her. And why would Ramón come back after all this time?
Sister Josefina smiled. “Can’t you guess?”
Mystified, Bella shook her head.
“An Englishman.”
Bella froze.
Sister Josefina nodded. “Tall, dark, and as beautiful as an archangel.”
Bella couldn’t move a muscle. She couldn’t utter a word or even marshal a coherent thought.
“A very stern, very masculine archangel.” Sister Josefina sighed. And a blush rose on her cheeks.
Lieutenant Ripton washere?
“Isabella?” Sister Josefina said.
Bella started. Everyone was staring at her. She pulled herself together. “I told you he’d come,” she managed and moved toward the door.
“Tidy your hair,” Sister Josefina reminded her, and Isabella started tucking in the errant strands that had come loose from her braid.
“Her hair?” Alejandra exclaimed. “You can’t let her go dressed like that!”
“Like what?” Isabella glanced down at herself, puzzled. She looked the same as always; neater than usual, in fact. She smoothed her hair back.
