“Of course,” Perlita answered. “Ramón—” She corrected herself with a hint of defiance. “Wesleep in theconde’s rooms, as is right.” Confirming to her sister, in case there was any doubt, that she was more than a housekeeper to Ramón. “Follow me.”
Bella knew the way by heart to her mother’s suite of rooms at the opposite end of the house, but Perlita insisted on escorting them. Politeness? Or underlining whose house it was now? Bella wasn’t sure.
As Perlita opened the bedchamber door, Bella’s gaze darted ahead of her. A rush of relief swiftly followed. The carved dressing table with the oval looking glass was there. All the furniture was still in place: the high four-poster bed; the heavy, tall wardrobes that she once hid in as a child.
“Your mother’s rooms are untouched since you left,” Perlita said, noticing the direction of her gaze. “Servants go in only to clean.”
“Thank you.” Bella was touched that they’d preserved her mother’s memory. And relieved that no one went in there.
Perlita corrected her assumption in a cool voice. “When Ramón marries, his wife will have these rooms. Until then, nobody will bother to use them. Except now, of course.” She left, gliding to where the bull-like master of the house waited for her.
“A levelheaded young lady,” Luke said when they were alone. “Must take quite a bit of courage to live openly with Ramón. She’ll have no other society: no respectable woman would have anything to do with her.”
Bella shuddered. “I don’t know how she can bear him. Still, she seems to be able to handle him, like leading a bull by the nose.”
Luke snorted. “It’s not his nose she’s leading him by.” He removed his coat. “But she seems to accept her position well enough.”
“She might. I don’t,” Bella said. “She’s far too good forhim.” It felt strange to be in this room again, so long after she’d left her home. Even longer since Mama had died. Papa had made no move to preserve it in any way; he just hadn’t bothered with it, and it seems Ramón was the same. It was clean, and there were no signs of dust, but still, it felt… deserted.
“How do you know? You know him as little as you do her. Which I have to say was a surprise to me. You’d never eventalkedto her?”
Bella tossed her head. “She’s still my sister. Almost my only relative. And it doesn’t matter that I’d never met her. It’s my fault she’s in this situation.” She examined the ornate dressing table. It seemed untouched. She opened the small drawer at the side and slid her fingers in to release the lever she knew was there. It was trickier now. Her fingers had grown since she was a child.
“Your fault? How so?”
Bella froze. She hadn’t meant to say that. She’d been concentrating on opening the secret drawer and the admission had just slipped out. She closed her eyes briefly. She’d have to tell him. He’d just risked his life for her, and she owed him the truth.
And if he despised her afterward, well, it was only what she deserved.
“I lied to you before.” She took a deep breath and turned to face him. “It wasn’t fear that made me leave Perlita and her mother behind. It was… it was jealousy.”
He leaned against one of the carved bedposts, folded his arms, and waited for her to explain.
She nibbled nervously on her lower lip. “I… I hated her for stealing my father’s love. So I left her… to her fate.” She swallowed and finished, “And then when I escaped Ramón, he took Perlita for revenge.”
There was a long silence. She was very aware of his eyes resting steadily on her, but she was afraid to meet his gaze, afraid of what she might see there.
He straightened, stretched his arms reflexively, and said in a mild tone, “You don’t know it was for revenge.”
Bella was slightly stunned by his matter-of-fact acceptance of her dreadful admission, but she wasn’t going to argue. “Well, of course he desires her—she’s beautiful—but he doesn’tcareabout her. He can’t.” She spread her arms to indicate the faded suite of rooms. “You heard what she said, that these rooms were being kept for his wife—and she didn’t mean herself. Who knows what will become of her when that happens? He’ll either turn her out—and it’s not as if he has any money to give her; he’s sold most things of value—or he’ll set her up in that little house in the next valley, the house where she was born. She’ll live her mother’s life all over again, Luke.”She gave him a despairing look. “She’s my half sister, she’s only nineteen, and she’s ruined. And it’s my fault.”
Luke said briskly, “Well, in that case we’ll have to help her.” He sounded so certain, she felt a little better. Her husband was a man who could get things done; she was beginning to realize that. He hadn’t let her down once. Perhaps he had some brilliant plan to save her sister.
“How?”
He pulled off his boots.
She frowned. Was that it? His brilliant plan was to take off his boots? “What are you doing?”
“I didn’t mean this very instant.” He removed his waistcoat and hung it on the back of a chair. “We can’t help her now. It’s siesta.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I thought you didn’t like siestas.”
He tossed his neckcloth over the chair and pulled his shirt off over his head. “Depends what else there is on offer.”
She stiffened. “What do you imagine is on offer?” If he thought this was the time to seduce her, in the middle of the day, in her own mother’s bed…
“I imagine the choice is between another delightful chat with the master of the house—and he’ll be none too pleased to have his own plans for the siesta interrupted—or a nap. You did see the way he was looking at your sister, didn’t you?” He winked. “I prefer the nap.”
