“Yes! And then he will force me to marry him!”
He raised a lazy brow. “Really? He could do that? I’m impressed. I’ve been able to force you to do very little. You’re quite remarkably stubborn.”
She stamped her foot. “Oh, will you be serious? You cannotcome to Valle Verde with me. I utterly forbid it.”
He smiled. “You forbid it?”
“I do. Because if you go to Valle Verde, he’ll kill you.”
Luke yawned. “He is welcome to try.”
Isabella glowered at Luke from the seat opposite. She’d been jumpy and nervous and bad-tempered the whole way. She peered out of the window of the carriage for the hundredth time and said, “We’re almost there. Just over the next hill.”
Luke nodded.
“It’s not too late to change your mind,” she told him.
“I know.” They’d been over this a hundred times, too. He wasn’t letting her go to Valle Verde without him, and that was that. He had no intention of arguing.
“You’re a very stubborn man, you know,” she said crossly.
He gave a faint smile.
They passed the last mile in silence.
“The gates need painting,” Isabella observed as the carriage drove through the entrance to the Valle Verde estate. “And the stonework needs repair.”
Luke leaned back against the comfortable squabs and watched her. Dressed in her new cream and blue dress and wearing that impudent corset that pushed her breasts up, she looked so delicious that it had been all he could do not to while away the journey by making love to her. But she was nervous and jumpy, and so cross with him for what she called risking himself unnecessarily, she was in no mood to be seduced.
Though Luke had always enjoyed a challenge.
But right now he was interested in her reactions to Valle Verde. Her eyes were everywhere, comparing, assessing, looking for signs of mismanagement.
The carriage jolted from pothole to pothole, and her mouth tightened. “The driveway was always smooth as silk.”
But as they drove deeper into the estate, it became clear the neglect wasn’t universal. The vines were well pruned, their rows neat and weed-free. Horses looked at them curiously over sturdy, unpainted fences. Nice-looking animals, too, Luke observed. Sleek and glossy.
“Ramón’s built up the herd,” Isabella conceded. “There look to be almost as many as before the war.”
Luke’s mouth twitched at her reluctant admission. “He probably stole them,” he said in a comforting tone. She blinked in surprise then, realizing he was teasing her, she gave him a haughty look. Her dimple gave her away.
They passed a freshly plowed field where a dozen men and women worked, preparing the field for planting. The strange carriage had caught their attention, and they’d stopped work to watch it go by. Clearly not many visitors came to Valle Verde.
“Oh, oh!” Isabella leaned out of the window and waved. “I know these people.”
One of the field-workers gave a shout, dropped his hoe, and, with a wide grin, ran toward the carriage, waving. The other laborers downed their tools and followed, hurrying to welcome Isabella home.
Luke rapped on the roof to tell the driver to stop the carriage. He opened the door and swung Isabella down. In minutes she was surrounded.
“Little Master, you’re back—”
“Welcome home, Little Master! Welcome home!”
Little Master?What was that all about, Luke wondered.
“Señorita Isabella, we never thought to see you again—”
Isabella greeted them each by name, smiling, weeping, shaking their hands, and embracing some.
