He froze. For the last seven years he’d embraced any opportunity for a fight, sought out danger, gloried in living on the edge. It was the only thing that calmed, for a brief time, the restlessness, the emptiness that gnawed at him.
But the look in Isabella’s eyes…
The singing ice in his veins faded. What the hell was he doing?
Ramón grabbed the other sword and shifted into a fighting stance. “Prepare to die, Englishman.”
Isabella rose to her feet and stamped her foot. “I won’t be fought over!” But her voice was high and tremulous, and the desperate sound of it pierced Luke.
He dragged his gaze from his wife’s stricken profile. Time to use his brains, stop playing this stupid game—and it was a game. But not to her. And no longer to him. He had a wife now.
He flexed the blade and said to Ramón, “You are still welcome to try. I am curious, though. How do you imagine my death would benefit you?”
Ramón laughed. “Are you stupid, Englishman? I would marry Isabella, of course. She is certainly worth fighting over.”
Perlita gave a distressed little moan, and Ramón’s gaze snapped toward her. “It will make no difference to us, Perla.”
Perlita hid her face from him and made no response. His brows locked briefly, then he turned back to Luke and his gaze hardened. “Well, Englishman?”
“Anytime you want. I didn’t realize it was Isabella herself you wanted.”
“What?”
“I thought it was her fortune.”
Ramón frowned. “I want both, of course. The two go together.”
“Ah, no.” Luke made a practice pass. The thin, deadly blade sliced the air. “There you are mistaken.”
“Mistaken?”
“Yes. Isabella comes separate from her fortune.” He pretended to parry. “And when I am dead she will be penniless.”
“Penniless?” exclaimed Ramón. His thick brows knotted in suspicion.
“Penniless?” Bella echoed in shock. She stared at Luke. It couldn’t be true.
Luke met her gaze ruefully. “Penniless,” he confirmed.
“That cannot be,” Ramón said. “Her mother left her a great—”
“Fortune, yes, but it all came to me when we married. There were no settlements, you see. It was a marriage made in haste.” He glanced at Ramón. “Your fault, that. Ironic, is it not?” He touched the point of the sword. “Naturally I made a will straightaway. Everything, every penny I own, goes to the support of my mother and younger sister.”
“Is this true?” Bella stared at Luke with her mouth open.
“On my honor as a gentleman.” He met her gaze ruefully, and she saw it was true.
“But what of Isabella?” Ramón demanded.
“Yes, what of me?” Bella repeated.
“You will live with my mother and sister, of course. They will take good care of you.”
Bella could hardly believe her ears. But the look in his face… and the oath he’d sworn. He wouldn’t make that lightly.
Live with his mother and sister? Be dependent on two strange Englishwomen? She didn’t want to be dependent on anyone. It was her fortune, left to her by her mother. It should come back to her.
No wonder he wasn’t worried about coming here…
