Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
I left Annabelle sleeping in my bed.
Feeling blissful, I tried to suppress my ridiculous grin while checking this evening’s arrangements.
The table had been set with luxurious settings, our finest plates.
The chef prepared lamb, accompanied by flavored vegetables, tasty pastries, and a wine selection from our best vintages.
I instructed the waiters that Salvador’s glass must remain topped up.
Pacing, I replayed my plan.
Within hours, the countess was sitting next to me, on my right. Salvador, who sat to my left, held his hand over the rim of his glass, gesturing to the waiter he’d had enough. I reached over and filled his glass myself.
The evening flowed smoothly, as did the Bordeaux.
Countess Miranda charmed us with tales of her late husband’s business endeavors.
The count had been a successful merchant, traveling to London on several occasions.
She’d accompanied him on many of his trips abroad.
Salvador and I were intrigued when Miranda recounted reports on life in merry old England.
We roared with laughter when told how infrequently the English bathed.
We were enthralled by her morbid tales. Apparently, London’s undertakers frequently dug up caskets for lack of room and often found scratches on the inside of the coffin lids.
The undead had tried to claw their way out.
Some of those who’d been laid to rest had not actually been dead, not at their burial anyway.
Salvador howled at my expression. Apparently, my mouth had been gaping.
“Remind me never to step foot on that godforsaken island,” I said, laughing.
“Oh, but they also have the most wonderful artists,” Miranda said to me.
“Still not convinced.” I cringed at the thought of falling down drunk and finding myself buried alive.
A discreet waiter served us dessert.
I knew how to play Miranda. She was used to men fawning over her.
This woman had everything – money, power, and beauty.
The alcohol loosened her nerve, and she let down her guard.
Her husband had died at forty, falling ill after a trip to France.
He’d left her childless. Now one of Spain’s wealthiest widows, with nothing but time for pleasure, she failed to conceal her desire for excitement – from me anyway.
Out of Salvador’s view, I’d reached under the table and caressed her thigh, my hand sliding up to linger at the edge of her panties.
After several minutes, I ignored her and concentrated on Salvador.
When Miranda fidgeted, I fed her sugared almonds, wooing her all over again, pushing and pulling her into a state of longing.
“There’s nothing more interesting than a woman who’s well-traveled.” I sighed, my thoughts drifting to Annabelle.
Miranda gave me a coy smile. “Or a man with a mysterious past.”
“Daumia is certainly indefinable.” Salvador downed his wine.
I raised my glass in a toast. “To defining the indefinable.”
They laughed as I took a sip of wine.
“We want to know more about you,” Miranda said boldly.
Salvador leaned forward. “Well, I know one thing – he’s certainly honorable.”
A war between Felipe and I raged just beneath the surface.
There was no room for procrastination and no time for cold feet.
“But he’s so coy about revealing anything.” Miranda ran her fingertip around the rim of her glass.
I topped up her wine. “What do you want to know?”
“How you came to live in such a great home?” she asked.
I held her gaze. “Fate dealt me a kind hand.”
“This was once the Bastillion estate, wasn’t it?” She patted her lips with her serviette.
My back stiffened. “Right up until the house burnt to the ground.”
“And Roelle Bastillion?” Miranda gave me a long stare.
I placed my fork on my plate, my appetite now dulled.
“Such a terrible way to die,” she continued. “No kind hand for Roelle.”
“The fickle hand of fate.” I needed to change the subject. “You have French heritage?”
Miranda appeared surprised. “Most people don’t notice, Daumia. And what’s your heritage?”
“Italian father, Spanish mother.”
“You were born in Santiago de Compostela?”
“Yes. Near the Romanesque Cathedral.”
The butler entered. Never had I been so happy to see the man.
“Tell me more about England.” I gestured to the waiters they should leave.
“They’re very progressive,” Miranda replied. “Take their architecture, for example…”
Her words faded as thoughts of Harold Ferring came to mind.
After he’d left, I’d come to realize his talent.
He’d designed the house so that when the sun rose, it flooded the servants’ quarters and breakfast room.
At sunset, the light lingered in my office, the library, and the bedrooms. Masterful, the genius was captured in the details.
With dinner over, we headed for the living room. Miranda excused herself, withdrawing to powder her nose.
“She’s quite taken with you,” Salvador said, his speech slurred. He gave me a grin that quickly faded.
“Come and sit with me.” I gestured to the couch.
Once seated, his fingers traced the braid on his uniform’s jacket pocket.
Don’t go through with it.
I loathed myself for what I was about to ask of my friend. But I couldn’t stop thinking about Alicia and the boy. Felipe would hurt her to get to me. That’s the kind of man he was – he was too cold and clever. Soon, he would come for me again.
“The man who needs watching is Felipe.” I glanced away.
Salvador’s arm stretched out along the back of the sofa. “I can’t believe it.”
“And you were already planning on taking up residence at the senator’s?”
“He’d not suspect anything.”
I was conflicted – there had to be another way. But Alicia’s life hung in the balance.
“Daumia?” Salvador shifted closer.
Desire surged through me and dragged me with it, possessing me with the thrill of his warm breath on my mouth and his lips almost touching mine.
The door handle turned.
Miranda entered, barely missing our brush with lust, and Salvador slumped back.
“This…conversation will continue later,” I said at last.
Salvador sighed.
I rose and filled their half-empty glasses and handed their refreshed drinks back to them, then poured myself one more drink.
Miranda’s soft flush of cleavage disappeared beneath the lace of her corset.
When she caught me staring, she blushed.
Salvador had imbibed so much wine that he fell back comatose on my couch.
The opportune moment was not lost on Miranda, who insisted on accompanying me when I mentioned taking an evening stroll.
Halfway across the courtyard, just before reaching the stables, I sensed someone watching us. Annabelle’s silhouette lingered at an upper window. I wanted to signal to her and reassure her but couldn’t risk Miranda seeing.
I sent the grooms away and led Miranda down the long line of stables, stopping before one of my most treasured stallions.
“He’s beautiful.” She patted his dappled neck, running her fingers through his thick, white mane. “I can see why nobility favors them.” She caressed the horse’s muzzle. “Salvador will be overjoyed.”
I checked his hind leg. “He caught a stone in his shoe earlier.” I lowered his hoof. “No harm done.”
I caught Miranda staring. She quickly turned and patted the horse again.
An edgy sensation worked its way into my stomach. “I hear that you’re a good friend of the senator’s?”
“More of an acquaintance. I own a summer retreat in Vigo, but I rarely go there since my husband, George, died.”
I nodded. “Salvador’s been appointed to the senator. I’m concerned.”
“Felipe’s ways are a little heavy-handed.”
“You know him well?”
She glanced at me as if to check my reaction. “George didn’t really trust him.”
“From what I hear, your husband had good judgment.”
She nodded, staring off into the distance, as though lost in thought. “I have friends in the senate who’ll watch out for Salvador.”
“I’m in your debt,” I said, strolling behind her.
She was breathing faster now, and I noticed her embroidered laced-up bodice appeared confining, designed to restrict her desires, it seemed. I imagined that as each ribbon loosened, so would her passion.
“I’m going to walk away now,” I whispered, close to her ear. “Forgive me, but you know why.” I reached up and caressed the fine, blond hair on her nape, and she shivered beneath my touch.
Although the evening was unfolding as planned, I recognized the illusion of this inner stillness. Rippling sensations of pleasure almost convinced me to take her as she let out a deep sigh.
But I turned and sauntered away.