Courtesan's Kiss (23 page)

Mia nodded, as though that seemed like a fair penance. “Where is Mr. Novins? Why has he not been to see me?”

“He was called to the next village to deliver a babe and has yet to return.”

“Of course. How selfish of me. Mr. Novins will have quite a number of calls to make now that his own self-imposed quarantine is over.”

“That is not something you have to fret about. You have to eat and regain your strength so that we can be at Pennford when Elena’s baby comes.”

That gave her pause, but only for a moment. “I will eat, but each time I do, you will have to tell me something of Mexico.”

“I will tell you about Mexico only if you tell me about your father and your life in Italy.”

“All right,” she agreed readily. “Start now and I will eat more of the toast.”

Her instant response made him realize that there would be happy as well as sad tales. Unlike those of his years in Mexico.

His head began to pound and David wondered if he was about to take his turn in a sickbed.

“The toast first.” He returned the tray to her lap and refilled her teacup.

“You talk while I eat.”

“This is like bargaining with a merchant.”

“Isn’t it fun?” She took a bite of the toast and waited.

“No more than a bit of geography this time, as you are already half asleep.”

“I’m waiting,” she said around her bite of toast.

“Not Mexico. I was shipwrecked on Isla Mexicado.”

She swallowed and shook her head. “I never heard of it.” She wrinkled her brow, looking suspicious. She did not believe him.

“Not many people have. But it did exist. It is gone now.”

“This sounds like a fairy tale you are devising for the sickroom.”

“I know, but if you will let me tell the story you will see that it is the darkest sort of fairy tale.”

Her smile winked out and her eyes grew wider.

“Now that I know you are an angler I will no longer be surprised at the scope of your knowledge. Are you an expert in globes and maps?”

“Not an expert, but I was very good at it in the schoolroom. I always wanted to visit the Galapagos. It has such a musical name. Tell me where to find Isla Mexicado.”

“Somewhere to the east of Mexico. That’s all I know. I have never found it on a map or globe and I think I may have been the first European to ever set foot there.”

“Oh my.” She was quiet a moment. “You are promising me that you are telling the truth?”

“Yes, Mia. I am.”

“Did they treat you as a god?”

“Most definitely not.” He stood.

She finished her toast and grabbed at his sleeve, her words coming out in a rush. “I was born in Naples. My mother died when I was three and my father and his sister took care of me until she married. I was nine, and so Papa and I managed alone. He played the harpsichord but his real genius was in building them.” She paused, lifting the teacup to her lips. “Now tell me how you escaped.”

“I didn’t.” Why was he doing this? It was like inviting her into his nightmare when she had enough of her own. “Sleep now and you can tell me more about Italy later.”

“But I want to know. I need to know what they did to you.”

His head was pounding, his admittedly limited patience pushed beyond bearing, so he told her the truth.

“Once they had nursed me to health they sold me into slavery.”

M
IA DID HER BEST
not to choke on the tea. “David! Slavery!
Dio mio
, for how long?”

“A little more than three years.”

He remained standing, obviously eager to escape, but he was not such a coward. She would have the whole story. She stretched her hand out as she spoke, but he stepped away from the gesture. She dropped her hand and, with an effort, calmed her voice. “Did no one try to find you? How could that be?”

“The rest of the crew was drowned. The officers, too. According to the Admiralty I was among the dead.”

“But you were not. You were the only one to survive. Surely that was a gift from God.”
His family. What they must have suffered to think him dead
.

Now he did sink into the chair near her bed, leaned back, and closed his eyes.

“If surviving that storm was God’s idea of a gift, then the thought of what hell must be like terrifies me.”

She wished she had some brandy. This story was difficult for him and tea hardly seemed the right restorative. “How is it that you lived and no one else did?”

He opened his eyes and looked at her with both anger and anguish. “You do manage to ask the most pertinent questions.”

Waiting was hard, but Mia was afraid that if she urged him on he would leave. The silence lasted a little longer, and then he raised his hand and rubbed his forehead. “The only reason I survived was that I disobeyed the captain’s order and did not go below when the storm hit.”

“You disobeyed an order.”

“Yes.” He put his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands and went on. “I was not a very successful midshipman.” He looked up at her hum of understanding. “Yes, I do prefer to be in charge, and if the shipwreck had not ended my naval career then I would have been sent home a failure after that first voyage.”

“Well, I see that one could hardly call the shipwreck a blessing, but you did survive. Both the sinking and your captivity.”

“Damn times ten, Mia. If you repeat a word of this to anyone I swear I will cut your tongue out.”

She pressed her lips together, actually believing him for a moment. “I will never tell anyone, David. I swear in the Virgin’s name.” Then she gave him the most generous gift she could. “You do not have to tell me any more tonight. Not if it’s too difficult.”

“It’s the last thing you need. You have been sick and are weak.” He seemed to consider what she offered but did not move from the chair.

“It is exactly what I need to make me appreciate how minor an inconvenience this illness is. And perfectly timed, as I was just beginning to feel sorry for myself.” That was a lie, but he nodded.

“There is not much to tell. It was a bestial existence, all physical work and punishment which I managed to avoid because I was young and strong.”

Mia let him tell the story in all its hideous vagueness.

“When I had been there so long I had almost forgotten my other life, a man came to the island, recognized me for a European, and bought me.” He stopped and thought a moment.

Mia was sure he was editing the story for his female audience. She had no idea how she was so sure of that, but she waited, then finally asked, “Was he English?”

“No, he was Spanish, from Mexico. He took me to Mexico City and I spent the next few years earning my way to England.”

“And paying the man back,” she added.

“Yes.”

“Why did you not write your father for help?”

“Damn it to hell, Mia. I was a total and complete failure. I was not about to beg him to send money so I could come home. I knew they thought me dead, so what would it hurt to wait another year or two so I could come back with something besides a borrowed suit of clothes?” Now he did stand up, angry and humiliated. “But I paid a price
for that, too. When I did come home to Pennford I found that my mother had died the year before. So I failed even her. The one I missed most of all.”

Mia stared at the canopy and would not let him see her tears.

“Now try to sleep,” he said brusquely. “And if you have more nightmares do not blame me.”

He left, and Mia let him go without a word. When the door closed, ever so quietly, she blessed herself, a papist habit that was an odd comfort, even after all these years, and prayed for the boy and the man who had lost so much.

I
WAS A TOTAL
and complete failure
. The words had haunted Mia for days, but there was no chance that she would hear an explanation any time soon. Not only was the house filled with servants again, but Lord David had scrupulously avoided her company. He had not come back to her room, and even now that she was up and dressed for the first time she had seen no sign of him all day.

She sat on the terrace at the back of the house. The warm air and sun felt wonderful and the late breakfast of coddled eggs and bread had been perfect.

If it were not for the nagging questions about Lord David’s past, Mia would not have a complaint in the world. During the two days she had been abed, everything had changed.

Janina had arrived the very next morning. She spoke for Romero as well as herself when she fell onto Mia’s bed,
crying with remorse. “Was it not awful, signorina? Romero’s mother says she will eat one as a penance, which is nonsense. She is old and could die, so I have sent him to destroy every one remaining. I am so sorry that the coachman died, but it was not really because of the sweets.” Janina had convinced herself that it was the hot day that had caused him to pass out and fall, not the poisioned sweet. No one needed that on their conscience.

Mia patted her head soothingly and let the tears flow until Nina was quiet beside her. It felt so good to have her nearby. When Nina was composed again, Mia went on.

“I have convinced myself it was a kind of adventure. One that has made me much more sympathetic to your travel sickness.”

“By the grace of God, Mia, I think you could be on your way to the guillotine and call it another kind of adventure.”

“Well, yes, I would, leading to the greatest adventure of all.”

“Only you would describe death that way,” Nina said, crossing herself as she spoke.

How could sisters view life so differently? Mia wondered, and changed the subject. “I will regain my strength more quickly than you have, Nina. You were sick from the carriage as well. Do you need to rest now?”

“No, I feel in excellent health.” She yawned. “I am only tired from three days of travel.”

“Three days?” The trip was less than fifty miles.

“Romero is so clever. He drove me here in a dog cart that he rented and the fresh air kept me from being ill.
Sometimes when I was feeling not quite well, I would walk a little. It was an excellent trip. If I can ride outside and we go slowly enough, I do not think I will ever have a trouble traveling again.”

Three days to go less than fifty miles
. Mia thought she would go mad if she had to travel that slowly, but it was a problem she would bring up later.

The sweet sounds of summer enthralled her. Mia closed her eyes, breathing in the smell of newly cut grass, the scent of summer flowers, and fell into a doze where she was as much a part of nature as the shrubs and trees.

She half dreamed of David sharing the day with her and wondered if he ever made the time to enjoy the world he lived in instead of planning for the world he wanted.

Mia heard the door open and opened her eyes to find Janina watching her. “I feel wonderful.” Mia hurried to speak before Janina could ask if she was feeling ill again. “It is wonderful out here. I was just thinking that Lord David should take some time to enjoy such perfect weather. Where is he?”

“In the study and asked to be left alone unless you take ill again. He says we will leave for Pennford as soon as you are well, but not for at least another two days to be sure you are strong enough.”

With that news the hope that she and Lord David would have any time alone together faded to nothing. And so it had been for the last twenty-four hours. Now that she was dressed and on her feet again, she would have to return the books she had borrowed. That would give her an excuse to see him, if only for a moment.

Nonsense. She did not need an excuse. Regardless of how he treated her, she was not a servant. He had held her through her nightmares and told her his, or at least the bare bones of it. After that they should not have to stand on ceremony.

She stood, drew a bracing breath of the warm summer air, went into the house, and moved briskly across the hall to the study. After a perfunctory tap at the door, she waltzed into the room without waiting for permission to enter. Exactly as he had done to her a dozen times before. The room smelled of books and leather, though the room was only half filled with shelves. A billiard table took up more space than the library table.

The weak light of the north-facing room was augmented by candles and the huge chandelier over the billiard table.

Mia said nothing, watching the way his fingers traced something he was studying. After nearly a minute of silence, Lord David looked up from the paper and stood as quickly. “You are among us again.”

“Yes.” She curtsied and he bowed to her. Rather a nice beginning. “What are you examining so intently?”

He stayed behind the table and she came farther into the room.

“I am trying to familiarize myself with Newcomen’s steam engine. I have to decide between his and Watt’s. Both are proven, and their prices are comparable. I have to present my choice and reasoning to Meryon.” He shrugged off business. “I can’t imagine you came to learn about the mill.”

“I am very interested in it, my lord.” She sat in the chair across from him. “Would you care to practice your presentation? I am a very good audience.”

He gave her a smile Mia pretended was not patronizing and launched into a description of what his cotton mill would do. There did appear to be such a machine as a “slubber.” It was used to draw out the loose fibers from the carding machine. The slubber twisted the fibers together to make them strong enough for the next step in the process.