The scene was still horribly vivid, the details etched on her memory. The Barilla family estate was outside the city, but Jose had come to find Elena when news of the rioting troops reached him. His shock on seeing the destruction they had wreaked was plain, but it was as nothing when he understood what had happened to her father, and to the female members of the household. Elena had been so relieved to see him that she hadn’t considered what might lie beneath his evident abhorrence. More than anything she wanted him to take her in his arms, to make her feel safe. However, on entering the vandalised salón where she waited, he left a yard of space between them and made no attempt to close the gap.
‘I should have been here to protect you,’ he said.
‘They would have killed you, Jose.’
‘Better that than such dishonour.’
‘The dishonour is not yours,’ she replied. ‘It belongs to those who committed the deed.’
‘Yet the taint can never be expunged.’ He let out a long breath. ‘I imagine that you intend to follow your sisters to the convent.’
Elena frowned. ‘Why should you imagine that?’
He stared at her. ‘But surely, after what has happened there can be no other choice.’
A cold lump settled deeper in her stomach. ‘No other choice?’
‘You must see that we cannot marry now. It is impossible.’
‘Is it?’
‘Elena, there may be consequences to the events that took place here.’
‘You mean I may have conceived a child.’
He winced. ‘It is a possibility. You must know that.’
‘I will know soon enough.’ She paused. ‘And if there is not a child?’
He shook his head. ‘After such a violation I cannot consider … I have my family to think of. You must see that.’
‘I do see. I think I’m truly seeing for the first time.’
He ignored the implication and stolidly maintained the calm, reasonable tone. ‘The wisest course for you now is to enter a convent. You have become soiled goods. No man of good family can marry you after what has happened.’
Elena felt as though she had been turned to stone. It couldn’t be happening. This stranger could not be Jose; he only looked like him. She wanted to shake him, to scream, to weep, to plead with him not to abandon her but she did none of those things, knowing that it would be useless. Gathering the shredded remains of pride she lifted her chin.
‘You’re right, of course. I was foolish to think anything else.’
He nodded. ‘I wish it had been otherwise, Elena, from the bottom of my heart.’
‘Your heart? If you possess one at all it was never mine.’
‘Elena, I …’
‘Go, Jose. Just go.’
For a moment he looked as though he were about to answer but then thought better of it. Instead he had turned away and walked out of her life for good….
‘He felt nothing for me,’ she repeated.
Harry regarded her steadily. ‘In that case you were well rid of him.’
‘So I think, now.’
He hesitated, but the urge to know overcame reticence. ‘Were you in love with him?’
‘I thought I was. He was young, handsome, wealthy, educated, amusing—all the things a young woman could want in a suitor.’ She smiled wryly. ‘I see now that I was in love with the idea of him. Of course I was younger then and very naive. It never occurred to me to look beneath the superficial charm. I accepted it all at face value.’
‘We’ve all done that at some point in our lives.’
‘It is painful to discover that the idol has feet of clay.’
‘There must have been other admirers since.’
Her expression grew cool. ‘I have not sought them.’
Again he could have kicked himself. ‘Forgive me. That was confoundedly tactless. It’s just that a woman like you would always excite admiration.’
‘My time was spent planning ambushes and fighting. Romance played no part in it.’
‘I didn’t mean to imply anything untoward.’ He paused. ‘You might have got yourself killed.’
‘At the time I didn’t care. But, as it turned out, I never suffered any serious injury. It was as though I bore a charmed life.’
‘I’m glad of it.’
Again the tone was sincere. Moreover, he was not critical of her actions and nor was he judgemental. After the opprobrium she had suffered of late it was a pleasant and unexpected change. But then he was unexpected in so many ways. It occurred to her to wonder then what might have happened if she had met such a man when she was younger, before the war had changed her life for ever. For a brief instant she had a glimpse of something that was beyond all former dreams of romance. It was followed by a sensation of sadness and loss. Her throat tightened. Such happiness as that was afforded to few, and it certainly didn’t include her.
They stopped at midday to rest their mounts and then, having eaten and taken a short siesta, resumed their journey. It was late afternoon when they heard other horses approaching, a large group riding fast. Elena’s stomach lurched and she darted a look at Concha. The other woman’s face revealed the same misgivings. Jack Hawkes looked at his master.
‘Should we pull off t’road and let ‘em pass, my lord?’
‘Yes, and let’s hope that passing is their intention.’
Jack glanced at the women. ‘Do you think it might be …’
‘I don’t know but I expect we’re about to find out.’
They had no sooner reined aside than the oncoming group swept around the bend. Harry counted a dozen riders; depressing odds if they were local brigands. His jaw tightened. The leading horsemen saw them and he heard a shout. There could be no doubt now that they were the target. The thunder of hooves came closer. His hand moved towards the Baker rifle in the saddle boot, then paused. Had he and Jack been alone he wouldn’t have hesitated, but the women’s presence made him reluctant to draw fire.
‘What do you want to do, my lord?’
‘Nothing, yet,’ he replied.
Before they could say more, the oncoming riders were upon them. In moments the little group was surrounded and a dozen pistols trained in their direction. Judging from their stony expressions, the bearers would very much have liked to use the weapons and clearly wouldn’t hesitate if given the order. Then, through the swirling dust, Harry recognised the man who led them. Don Manuel reined in a few yards away.
‘Did you really think to get away with this, my lord?’ He glowered at Elena. ‘Or you either?’
Elena’s stomach wallowed. This was rapidly assuming the proportions of a nightmare. She had miscalculated badly to assume that her uncle would wash his hands of her, and now innocent people were caught up in her botched plan. She directed an agonised glance at Harry but he failed to see it: his attention was focused squarely on her uncle.
‘I can explain, señor.’
Don Manuel regarded him with cold contempt. ‘I’m not interested in your explanation. I welcomed you in good faith and gave you all possible assistance. In return you have betrayed my hospitality