Devoted to the Spanish Duke Read online

  It took all Maria’s strength not to roll her eyes. “Yes, of course. One wouldn’t want the meat looking anything but the most palatable for Don Delgado.”

  Her brother had the good sense not to reply.

  As they wandered back into the party, Maria had a sudden thirst for a large glass of Malaga—anything that would take her mind away from her encounter with Lisandro de Aguirre.

  The instant she had set eyes on him, her whole body had reacted. As the lofty noble had made his way across the room toward her, Maria’s mouth had gone dry.

  Right up to the moment he had given her his name she had been studying him with pleasured interest. He had experienced life outside the cloistered domain of Spanish nobility. He had seen something of the world. He had lived a life. Not to mention he was devilishly handsome.

  Standing alone with him on the terrace, she had been captivated. His shoulder-length, dark hair, lightly oiled and swept back from his face, set her heart racing. And those lips, full of the promise of sensual kisses—she could just imagine what they would feel like on her skin.

  Maria swallowed deep. Lisandro was no longer in sight, yet he still affected her whole being. Perhaps it was just because he would remain forever out of her reach that he was able to hold her interest. The aching hunger that had lingered long after he’d gone was surely only because she couldn’t have him.

  Forbidden fruit.

  Her mother had always said she was too passionate, unable to control her wicked nature. That someday it would cost her a great deal.

  She caught the eye of a passing servant bearing a tray of drinks and beckoned him over. After selecting a glass of the sweet Spanish wine, Maria raised it to her lips, silently toasting her lack of fortune when it came to men.

  But no matter how hard she tried; her thoughts continued to return to the Duke of Tolosa. The tall, dark and illicit Lisandro de Aguirre.

  She itched to run the back of her hand along his sexy stubbled face, then trace a soft line over the exquisite dimple on his chin. Maria shivered at the prospect of being that close to him.

  A soft chuckle escaped her lips. She would never get the opportunity to do any of those things. There was every chance that she wouldn’t ever set eyes on the Duke of Tolosa again. And if that wasn’t a crying shame, Maria de Elizondo Garza didn’t know what one was.

  Chapter Two

  The following morning, Maria was seated at a small balcony table in the villa her family had hired. Her home was thirteen miles away —too far to travel in one day for a night of wedding celebrations.

  While finishing the last of her breakfast, she gazed lazily out over the Cantabrian Sea. Various fishing boats bobbed up and down on the dark blue waves while gulls cried overhead. It was the perfect coastal picture.

  The only thing spoiling the moment was the presence of her brother, Diego, and his continued griping over the events of the previous evening. Maria had long given up staring daggers at him, but still held out some hope that he might take the hint and shut up about the Duke of Tolosa.

  “The nerve of that man. He must have known who you were. I should have called him out and demanded satisfaction.”

  Maria took a long, deep sip of her hot café con leche, she hoped that soon the coffee would be enough to take her mind off her brother’s insistent complaining.

  Unfortunately, it wasn’t.

  “You can’t fight a duel; the Pope has forbidden them. And it was a wedding celebration, so I hardly think King Ferdinand would have taken kindly to the knowledge that someone might have died on his happy day,” she replied.

  It wasn’t as if her brother had ever found himself in the position where he had to use a sword or pistol against a man. The worst adversary Maria hoped he would ever have to deal with was an Iberian wolf or a brown bear.

  Her gaze returned to the sea. The tide was slowly working its way out, and several boats were making their way into shore. Maria doubted she would be able to enjoy lazy mornings like this once she was wed to the ambitious Juan Delgado.

  She reached for her gold chain, silently chiding herself for having forgotten to put it on this morning. As soon as she was finished breakfast she would go and get it. Maria never went anywhere without her Santiago medallion.

  “And speaking of happy days, how are the dowry negotiations going this morning? Father did not seem pleased when I saw him earlier,” she added.

  “Not good. Juan Delgado is a tough negotiator. After everything Papá has offered him, he still asks for more. At the rate things are going, you will be lucky to be a bride before Christmas,” replied Diego.

  What a shame.

  She would have to remember to feign disappointment in front of her father if he could not seal the agreement today.

  A shadow fell over the two siblings, and Maria glanced up to see her father’s trusted advisor, Señor Perez, standing close by. The gray-haired man smiled and bowed to them. “Don Diego. Doña Maria. What a beautiful morning. The sun is shining and there is not a cloud in the sky. God is truly smiling down upon us today.”

  Maria and Diego exchanged a grin. Señor Perez was always one for waxing lyrically.

  Diego rose from his chair and politely bowed to Maria. “I must go and see how things are progressing. Though I don’t hold out much hope.”

  Señor Perez nodded. “Good luck. They were still haggling over jewelry when I left a few moments ago.”

  Maria finished the last of her coffee and also rose. Señor Perez held out his arms to her, offering a hug. “Don’t worry. Your father will eventually get things settled. In the meantime, would you like to go for a walk along the beach? One of the villa staff mentioned that the fishermen often have delicious, fresh clams for sale.”

  She had known this man all her life, considered him as an uncle. Spending a warm summer’s morning with him strolling along the sand was a perfect idea. The cool sea breeze would help to clear her mind.

  “Let me go and get my necklace and then I shall meet you at the stone steps which lead down to the beach,” she said.

  “How about we leave now? The fishermen may be gone by the time you return if we delay. And it would be such a pity to miss out on those clams. I promise we won’t be gone long,” he replied.

  She nodded. “Alright, let’s go. I am sure I can survive for a few minutes without my pendant.”

  A short while later Maria followed Señor Perez as he led her onto the golden expanse of Zarautz Beach. She took in a deep breath; the salt air was magnificent. Being this close to the sea always did something to her mood.

  Lisandro de Aguirre was right about the lure of the sea.

  Not wishing to ponder why her thoughts kept returning to the Duke of Tolosa, Maria took hold of Señor Perez’s arm and grinned up at him. A change in topic was in order.

  “I didn’t see you at the ball last night,” she said.

  He screwed up his face. “You know me—I am never one for those sorts of things. All that dancing and making polite talk? No, thank you.”

  “Oh, come now, tío, I have seen you dance. The ladies are always eager to take a turn of the floor with you,” replied Maria.

  He leaned in close and met her gaze. The pale color of his face and dark circles under his eyes gave her pause. He looked tired. “I took to my bed early last evening. I am not a young man anymore. I need my sleep.”

  The sound of men crying ‘heave’ came on the wind, and Maria turned to see a fishing boat being dragged into shore. Pots, nets, and rope were tossed over the side. Señor Perez gently nudged her.

  “Let’s go and see if they have any clams for sale. I would love some tossed in garlic.”

  Maria lifted her skirts, doing her best to keep them dry. The thought of fresh seafood was a nice distraction to her new concerns about the health of her father’s trusted servant.

  As they drew closer to the small boat, the fishermen stopped their work and stood with heads bowed. One by one, they slipped off their woolen caps, acknowledging Maria.
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  “Buenos días, good gentlemen. Did you have a successful fishing trip?” said Señor Perez.

  The men looked from one to another, then finally, one of them stepped forward and bowed low. “We caught many fish,” he replied.

  Maria released her hand from her friend’s arm and moved toward the boat. She was keen to see what was in the fishing pots. “Do you have any clams, or should we ask farther up the beach?”

  The man gave a cheery grin, then nodded. “Yes. Yes, we have clams. Come. Come see.”

  He motioned for her to come closer to the boat, but the water made her hesitate. Wet skirts would surely earn her a scolding from her mother.

  “Bring the pots over onto the sand,” said Señor Perez. Putting his hand into his jacket pocket, he withdrew a handful of coins. The money quickly had the desired effect, and two large pots were lifted over the side of the boat and carried to where Maria and he stood.

  Several more of the fishermen now came ashore, but two remained with the boat. They began to drag it back out into the water.

  Maria leaned over the first of the pots. “These look good. They—”

  Strong arms wrapped about her waist. She was jerked violently off her feet.

  “What are you doing? Unhand me this instant!” She kicked and squirmed, fighting for release. But the man who held her only tightened his grip. With her arms pinned hard against her body, she struggled to make any headway against her captor.

  “Señor Perez help me!” she cried.

  Her friend stepped forward his hand raised. “Please no!” he pleaded.

  A large black cudgel quickly silenced him. He collapsed onto the sand, unconscious.

  Maria screamed.

  The wind swiftly carried her protests away. Then a huge, rough hand came over her mouth, ending any further chance she had to cry for help.

  Her abductor was strong, her continued efforts to gain release achieving nothing more than to tire herself. From out of the group of fishermen, another man appeared. She whimpered at the sight of his badly scarred face. From the way he spoke, it was obvious Spanish was not his first language. Maria caught snippets of words which she knew to be English.

  In his hands he held a large brown hessian sack. As he lifted it up and placed it over her head, all her hope fled.

  “Get her in the bloody boat!” he bellowed.

  Maria fought one last desperate time, lashing out with her feet. Her boot connected with a body, and a cry of pain was her reward.

  She didn’t get another chance to strike as a sudden sharp jolt of agony tore through her brain. Her world spun sickeningly, and she knew no more.

  Chapter Three

  Two weeks later

  Castle Tolosa, Spain

  * * *

  At the top of the ridge, Lisandro pulled back on the reins of his gray Barb and the horse slowed to a gentle walk. It was mid-morning on another fine day at his family’s estate.

  In the field below him, his workers were busy preparing the soil for the new wheat crop which would be planted at month’s end. The strains of an old Spanish folk song drifted to his ears and he smiled. Somewhere down there was his leading hand, Manuel, happily entertaining everyone while they worked.

  The horse came to a stop, and Lisandro sat back in the saddle, lifting his face to the sun. “La bendición de Dios,” he whispered. This truly was a country blessed by God.

  Spain was at peace. The war with France over. The only gray clouds on his horizon were the rumblings of discontent over the return of King Ferdinand. Lisandro privately hoped his country would not come to civil war, but the king was proving himself the worst of monarchs.

  But for the time being, Lisandro was home and working to make the Tolosa estate financially strong once more. He had neglected things while away at war. Put his own life on hold while fighting to free his country of the influence of Napoleon.

  Time at home had him thinking about many things, especially his future.

  He was lonely. His bed was empty. Lisandro ached for someone whom he could share his life with and raise a family. A special woman to hold his heart. A wife.

  Finding the right woman was proving more difficult than he had expected.

  Such a pity that the beauty at that ball was Maria de Elizondo Garza. If she were anyone else, she would have been perfect.

  A small cloud of dust on the road caught his eye, stirring him from his thoughts. Lisandro scowled. Few travelers ventured off the main thoroughfare, which ran through the old town of Tolosa on its way to the coast. This was a sleepy part of the world.

  From his saddlebag, Lisandro produced a spyglass and trained it on the moving dust. It was a carriage, headed at speed toward Castle Tolosa. He couldn’t quite make out the markings on the side; they appeared to be covered with black cloth.

  Odd.

  He gritted his teeth. In his experience, unexpected visitors rarely brought good news. And this guest clearly did not wish to announce his or her arrival.

  Tucking the glass back into its bag, Lisandro turned his horse’s head and made for home.

  In the courtyard of the castle, he came upon the coach. After dismounting from his horse, he handed the reins to a servant and walked over to inspect the carriage. He lifted the black cloth which covered the door, frowning at the sight which met his gaze.

  A black and white checkerboard shield, topped with a silver helmet and crest of feathers, was emblazoned on the side of the carriage. The Elizondo family coat of arms.

  He swore under his breath. What the devil was his family’s avowed enemy doing at his home?

  “Don de Aguirre?”

  Lisandro turned, and flinched. Diego de Elizondo was standing in front of him. Instead of waving his fists threateningly in Lisandro’s face, Diego bent himself in a deep bow. There was no sign of a sword or a pistol on his person. What on earth is going on?

  The hairs on the back of Lisandro’s neck rose. Suspicion tingled throughout his body. Why would an apparently unarmed Diego be here? He feared to know the answer.

  Remember who you are, Lisandro de Aguirre. This man is a guest; treat him with the courtesy that deserves. If he causes any problems, then you will be well within your rights to kill him.

  He grimaced at the thought; Lisandro hoped that his days of bloodletting were well behind him.

  “Don Diego, this is most unexpected. Have you perhaps lost your way?” he asked, attempting a touch of levity.

  The instant that Diego finally righted himself and met Lisandro’s gaze, all thoughts of humor disappeared from his mind. The heir to the title of Duke of Villabona was a younger man than himself, but in the weeks since Lisandro had last set eyes on him, Diego appeared to have aged, a good ten years.

  “I come in peace to seek your guidance and help. Could we perhaps speak somewhere in private, Don de Aguirre? I have a grave matter to discuss,” replied Diego.

  Lisandro patted his coat pocket, pleased that he had not given up the habit of carrying a loaded pistol with him at all times. Confident that he could defend himself if necessary, he dismissed the gathered servants.

  He caught the eye of one of his most senior estate staff and the man nodded. If anything did happen to Lisandro, Diego wouldn’t be leaving Castle Tolosa alive.

  Contingencies in place, he led Diego out around the side of the castle through a stone archway and into a small but high-walled garden.

  In the center of the garden was a wooden gazebo, its roof formed by ornamental grape vines. This was his mother’s personal place to come and sit when she wished to escape the heat of the day during the height of summer.

  Lush green English ivy trailed up the walls, covering almost every inch. While the effect was visually stunning, it also served a purpose. The glossy leaves provided a perfect form of sound insulation. Nothing echoed in the enclosed space.

  He motioned toward the table and chairs which sat under the gazebo, but Diego shook his head. Instead, he reached into his coat pocket.

  Lisa
ndro stiffened.

  Don’t be a fool, Diego.

  He sighed with undisguised relief as Diego pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to him.

  Don Antonio de Elizondo. Duke of Villabona,

  Maria is as yet unharmed—but this could change. She is far from here, so do not seek to rescue her.

  The sum of 250,000 Spanish Dollars is to be handed to the head priest at Santiago Cathedral in Bilbao.

  Once we know the ransom has been paid you will receive further instructions.

  Lisandro read the note a second time.

  All the saints in heaven.

  He had dealt with enough of these sorts of situations to know that the people who had taken Maria were professionals. Only amateurs added threats of bodily harm to ransom notes. It was awful to think that the beauty from the wedding ball had been kidnapped. But he wasn’t sure as to what it had to do with him.

  Odd that the kidnappers stated the ransom amount in dollars not pesos. Only foreigners call our currency Spanish dollars. Perhaps that’s a clue as to who could have taken Maria.

  When he lifted his gaze from the paper, he asked the question which had been forefront of his mind from the second he saw the Elizondo family coach. “Why are you here?”

  Diego pointed to the note. “Because my father has done everything, he can to find Maria. Even Don Delgado has combed the country far and wide. There is no sign of her.”

  “Don Delgado? What does the Count of Bera have to do with this?” replied Lisandro.

  “He and my sister are meant to be betrothed shortly.”

  Lisandro kept his opinion of Don Delgado to himself. Now was not the time to make mention of his lack of regard for the count. At least the man had done what he could to find Maria.

  “Don de Aguirre, I am here because while our families are sworn enemies, I believe you are the only man in Spain who stands any real chance of finding my sister alive and returning her to us,” he added.