Don't Bargain with the Devil (41 page)

 

Diego had spent those two hours accusing himself. He should have told Lucy immediately what he’d learned about her father. He should never have tried to manipulate the situation to his advantage.
Dios mio,
if he could only go back and do it all over, he would do it differently.

 

It was bad enough that he’d bungled every aspect of this affair, but every other man around her had done the same. What a shock it must have been for her to learn that the man she’d clearly adored had kept such an appalling secret from her.

 

The devil of it was, now that Diego saw how deceptive the
marqués
could be, he understood the colonel’s reasoning. Or partly understood it, anyway. The man had wanted to protect Lucy.

 

So had Diego.

 

Oddly enough, Gaspar’s words to him the last time they’d spoken came to mind:
Did you ever ask me what I wanted?

 

Diego sighed. He should have asked Lucy what she wanted, what she needed. Then he wouldn’t be standing down here wishing he was up there with her, praying that he hadn’t spoiled the best thing that had ever happened to him.

 

The door above them opened, and, as one, the three men glanced up at the gallery. But it was only Nettie. And she was alone.

 

She came down the stairs and hurried past them without stopping. The three of them rushed after her.

 

“Is my wife still up there with Lucy?” the colonel asked. It was an inane question, since they hadn’t left their spot below the door since Lucy had thrown them out. Of
course
she was still up there. Where would she go?

 

“Is Lucy all right?” Diego asked.

 

The
marqués
couldn’t keep up with the other two men, but he called out, “
Carajo,
girl, stop and tell us what’s going on!”

 

Nettie just kept heading down the gallery. “Lady Kerr called for some tea and sumpthin’ for them to eat. I’m fetching it.”

 

“Tea?” the colonel said. He glanced at Diego. “That’s a good sign, isn’t it?”

 

Diego winced, remembering what Lucy had done with a teacup the last time she’d been furious at him.

 

The three of them followed Nettie into the kitchen, hoping to glean more information, but she remained stoic as a stone throughout her errand. She told them nothing, answered nothing, and made Diego curse Gaspar yet again for hiring the damned woman in the first place.

 

They kept trying to get information out of her as they followed her back to the courtyard—only to be arrested by the sight of Lady Kerr standing in the middle.

 

“Maggie!” The colonel hurried up to her. “Where’s Lucy? How is she?”

 

“Lucy’s fine,” Lady Kerr said primly. “She’s in the carriage headed to the ship.”

 

They all looked at each other, perplexed.

 

Diego was the first to figure it out. Nettie had been a diversion to get them away so Lady Kerr could sneak Lucy out.
Hostias!
He was a magician, for God’s sake. He ought to be able to recognize a disappearing act when it hit him in the face.

 

She was leaving. And without him?
Dios no lo quiera!
How could he bear it?

 

“
Our
ship?” the colonel asked, his voice pitifully hopeful. “She’s going home with us?”

 

“She’s going home with
me,
” Lady Kerr said. “I’m afraid she’s none too happy with you right now, Hugh. We both think it best that you return to England separately from her.”

 

“The hell I will!” he roared. When Lady Kerr raised an eyebrow at him, he scowled. “All right, so I shouldn’t have kept the truth from her. It seemed best at the beginning, when she was young and wouldn’t know to keep quiet about it. Then, as the years went on, it got harder to tell her. I knew she’d hate me, and I couldn’t stand that! I kept putting it off.” He set his shoulders stubbornly. “I shouldn’t have done that, but I did, and I can’t do aught about it now, except make sure that she understands why I did it.”

 

He glared at his wife. “And I’ll be damned if I’ll watch her sail off to England, nursing her anger at me, just because you and she think that’s a grand idea. I’m going after her!”

 

He turned for the door, only to be blocked by the
marqués.
“You’re not going without me,” the old man commanded. “She’s my granddaughter. I have just as much right to her as you.”

 

“Why, so you can put her out to breed your heir?” Colonel Seton snapped.

 

“I don’t care about my heir, you overgrown Englishman!” Don Carlos shot back. “I’ll admit I made a mistake with Catalina. I should have listened to her, should have realized how unhappy she was. I should never have abandoned her. I have paid for that mistake my whole life!”

 

He clutched his cane as if it were a lifeline. “First, we found out about her death, and no one would tell us what had happened to her girl. It was hard to find out anything during those years. I thought maybe they’d died together, and I tried to forget about her. I kept thinking my son would give me a child I could dote on—not just an heir but a little girl like my Catalina.” His face hardened. “Only he didn’t. And when he died, and my wife died, I realized—”

 

“That you needed an heir,” the colonel growled.

 

“Yes, that is true,” Don Carlos admitted. “That is why I sent Don Diego after her.” His rheumy eyes filled with tears. “But then she arrived, and she was the very picture of her mother—”

 

“Aye, she is that,” Colonel Seton said softly.

 

“And all I wanted was to have her with me.” Fierceness lit his face. “I have no one—don’t you understand? No one to ease me into the next life, to be with me in my final days.” He pointed his cane at Lady Kerr. “You at least have
her.
And now you’ll have Lucy, too, and I’ll die all alone…” He began to cry.

 

Diego was unmoved. “What about the duke? You were willing to marry her off to him against her will, just as you tried to marry her mother off.”

 

“No!” the
marqués
protested. “Ask her yourself. I told her if she didn’t take to him after a week in his company,
I’d send him packing. I meant that. I only wanted a good husband for her, someone worthy to marry the granddaughter of a
marqués
.” He narrowed his eyes at Diego. “Not some jester with a run-down estate who barely holds a claim to a title.”

 

“Ah, yes, the estate he kidnapped her to gain.” The colonel fixed a malevolent gaze on Diego. “That’s one thing we agree on, Don Carlos. He doesn’t deserve to have her. He’s naught but a lying, scheming devil.”

 

“At least I know what an ass I’ve been,” Diego said quietly. “That woman is the best thing that ever happened to any of us, and all you can think about is who deserves to have her.
None
of us deserves to have her, damn it! And she is not a possession. She has feelings, thoughts and dreams of her own.”

 

He glared at them both. “We trampled over those for our own selfish purposes, and she has every right to tell us to go to hell. I do not blame her in the least for wanting to be well away from us, after what she has been through. So if she says she needs time away to think matters through, then by God she will get it—even if I have to tie you both down to make sure of it!”

 

With his heart in his throat, he clenched his fists at his sides. “I may love her beyond reason, but I know better than to think I deserve her. If I am ever fortunate enough to have her speaking to me again, to have her willing to accept my suit, I will drop to my knees and thank God for it!”

 

“Do you mean that?” said a soft voice behind him.

 

Diego whirled to find Lucy emerging from behind a pillar. For a moment, he could only gape at her, a torrent of emotions swelling in his chest.

 

She was the most beautiful sight he had ever beheld, even with her eyes swollen from tears and her cheeks pale.

 

“Did you mean it?” she repeated with a hesitant smile.

 

His heart constricted at the sight. “Every word,
mi amor,
” he said hoarsely.

 

As she approached, he dropped to his knees and took her hand, kissing it with all the love in his heart. “Forgive me for not telling you right away what I learned from the duke about your father. All I could think was that I had to get to you, had to save you from him by marrying you.”

 

Her hand tensed in his, but he didn’t let go. “I told myself it was the least I could do after I had wronged you by believing your grandfather’s lies. I told myself you might not agree to marry me if you knew how I had wronged you.” He held her sweet hand against his cheek. “But the truth is, by then I would have sold my soul to make you mine. I finally realized I could not bear a life without you.”

 

He lifted his gaze to her. “I will do whatever I must to have you in my life,
querida.
I will continue touring, sell Arboleda, restore it, move to England and work for Philip Astley, whatever you wish. Tell me what you want, and it’s yours.”

 

Her eyes filled with fresh tears. “I only want one thing,” she whispered, and dropped to her knees in front of him. “I want
you.
None of the rest of it matters.”

 

With a glad cry, he caught her to him, kissing her mouth, her cheeks, her hair. Laughing, she kissed him back so sweetly that he thought he might die of joy. For a moment, they were the only people in the courtyard, the only people in the world, kissing and murmuring endearments and rejoicing in each other.

 

That ended when something hard was thrust into his back. Startled, he turned to see her grandfather stabbing at him with his cane. Don Carlos was glowering, with the colonel standing right beside him doing the same.

 

Brought painfully back to the present, he and Lucy scrambled to their feet to face the two men. Diego put his arm instinctively about her waist.

 

“I can destroy you for this, you know, Don Diego,” her grandfather growled. “And if you think you’ll see a penny of her inheritance—”

 

“I don’t care about her inheritance,” Diego shot back. “She’s all I want.”

 

It was true. Somewhere in the midst of this tempestuous night, he had lost the driving need to restore his family’s estate. If he and Lucy could manage it, then he would do it, but he now realized that Gaspar had been right. Fulfilling his impossible vow to his father would never wipe out what the English had done. It would never assuage his pain. Only Lucy could do that.

 

“What if I threaten to have you arrested for kidnapping?” the colonel asked.

 

Diego blinked at him.

 

“Oh, yes,” Colonel Seton went on, his eyes unreadable. “I know my daughter didn’t come here by choice. Your man Gaspar told me the truth. You drugged her to carry her off. I could have you hanged for that.”

 

“You’ll look a fool if you try it, Papa.” Lucy clutched Diego tightly. “Because I’ll be standing right next to him, swearing I came of my own free will.” She frowned at her grandfather. “And I should think by now,
Abuelo,
you’ve learned your lesson about interfering in affairs of the heart.”

 

Lucy glanced over at Lady Kerr. “You were right. I didn’t like everything I heard.” She gazed up at Diego with a soft smile. “Except for what
you
said,
mi amor.
” She kissed him, and he responded instantly, even though he suspected she did it only to provoke her idiot father and grandfather.

 

After prolonging the kiss long enough to have the other two grumbling under their breaths, she broke it, winked at Diego, then frowned as she faced her father and grandfather once more.

 

“Fortunately, I heard enough to tell me that while you’re a pair of bull-headed fools, you do seem to care about me. And I can probably learn to forgive what I heard that I
didn’t
like. As long as you meet my conditions.”

 

The two men exchanged wary glances.

 

“Grandfather,” she went on, “Diego is my choice for a husband. If you truly want to have me in your life, then you’ll have to honor my choice. There will be no negotiation on that point. Do you agree to my condition?”

 

Her grandfather gazed at her, hope rising in his face. “You would stay in Spain then? Be a comfort to your old
abuelo?
”

 

She glanced up at Diego.

 

“I told you,
carińo,
whatever you wish,” he said.

 

With a brilliant smile, she returned her gaze to Don Carlos. “I can’t answer that yet. My husband is so talented, he could do absolutely anything he pleases, so we’ll have to decide what’s best for us both.” Pride shone in her face. “But I’m sure we can visit here from time to time. I will be at your side when I can.”

 

“Then I am content,” the old man said, wiping away tears.

 

“As for you, Papa,” Lucy said, “if you want me to forgive you for keeping the truth from me so long, you’ll have to accept Diego as my husband. And agree at least to be civil to Grandfather. Can you do that?”

 

Colonel Seton scowled, his gaze shifting to Diego, then to Don Carlos.

 

“Hugh?” Lady Kerr demanded.

 

“I’m thinking, I’m thinking!” His gaze fell on Lucy, and a softness entered his eyes. “Oh, very well. As long as the bloody scoundrel doesn’t keep you over here in Spain all the time.”

 

“Very good.” Lady Kerr beamed at her husband, then at Lucy and Diego. She headed over to kiss both their cheeks. “I’m so happy for you.”

 

Casting Lady Kerr a smile, Lucy squeezed Diego’s waist. “I’ve caught myself quite a fine husband, haven’t I, Mother?”

 

For a moment, Lady Kerr looked stunned. Then tears welled in her eyes, and a glorious smile curved her lips. “Yes, sweetheart, you certainly have.” She dropped her gaze to Diego’s bare chest, and her eyebrows shot high. “Though I do think it long past time that he don more appropriate attire. It simply is not dignified for a count to go about in his drawers.”

 

Lucy burst into laughter. As Diego frowned at her, she teased, “Given your gift for sleight of hand, I would have thought you’d have palmed the key to my bedchamber on the way out the door.”