She waved his apology away. “I didn’t mind. I have nightmares, too, sometimes. They moved me out of the dormitory and into a cell of my own because I kept waking people up.”
He remembered her telling him, but discussion of nightmares had already made him uncomfortable enough, and he had no desire to extend the conversation. That business was in the past, where it belonged. He changed the subject. “I hired a carriage.”
She looked up in surprise. “To take me to Valle Verde?”
He nodded and finished the last of his ham. “I didn’t know if your sister rides as well as you. Easier if you do find her to take her away in a carriage. It’s ordered for half past nine. You said it would take two hours to get there.”
Her eyes lit up. “That’s a wonderful idea, Luke—thank you. And yes, two hours, more or less. And I’ve askedthelandlady to change all the bedding so there will be no smell in the room if you want to take a nap while I’m at Valle Verde—”
“What do you mean? I’ll be there with you.”
She frowned and looked perturbed. “No, no, you can’t go. I have to go alone.”
“You’re not going anywhere alone, and certainly not to Valle Verde.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t you trust me? Do you think I’ll run off on you?” Two pink spots appeared in her cheeks.
He shrugged, deliberately provoking her. “For all I know you might make a habit of it.”
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous.” She glared at him, opened her mouth to argue, and glanced around the room at the other diners. “We will discuss this upstairs.”
“We won’t discuss it at all,” he told her. “There’s nothing to discuss.”
She made a frustrated sound but refused to say another word in public. He could tell from the expressions that flitted across her face that she was marshaling various arguments to convince him.
She had a snowball’s chance in hell. But it would be quite entertaining to watch her try.
“You know it’s too dangerous for you to go to Valle Verde,” she told him the moment they returned to their room and shut the door. “I don’t know why you’re being so stubborn about it.”
The bed had been stripped and the bedclothes removed. Luke sat on a chair by the window, crossed his legs, and leaned back. “Whither thou goest, I will go.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Ruth was a widow, not a husband. Husbands don’t follow wives.”
His lips twitched. “What a very short memory you have, my dear.”
She flushed. “Be serious. You know I have to go. It’s important.”
“And I haven’t forbidden you to go. But nothing you have told me of your charming cousin Ramón—”
“Second cousin. Twice removed. And he’s not charming; he’s horrid.”
He said flippantly, “Clearly whoever removed him didn’t do a very good job. And an improperly removed horrid second cousin is not someone I will allow you to visit alone.”
“But I must—”
He made an impatient exclamation and sat up. “You told me your father told you to flee from Ramón; that he was a brute, a bully, and a thug.”
“He is. He’s a vile beast.”
“And you imagine I’d let you visit a vile beast on your own?” Luke snorted.
She wrung her hands. “But if he sees you, Ramón will want to kill you.”
He sat back and returned to flippancy. “Doesn’t like visitors, eh? Too bad. I’m going.”
“You don’t understand. Ramón will do anything to get his hands on my fortune. He’ll kill you to make me a widow.”
“Will he now?” Her anxiety on Luke’s behalf was quite touching.
