Nobody's Saint (10 page)

“I do not know.” A sad smile flickered across his face. “Ah, I see that some things can make you
temeroso
after all.”

Mary Kate gave herself a quick scolding. She’d be damned if anyone could call her
temeroso
! “‘Tis nonsense, all of it! So you’re uncommon lucky. In Ireland men would be tripping over themselves to serve a captain such as yourself!”

“We are not Irish.”

“More’s the pity.”

Diego pushed aside his concerns about his men and the source of his luck, good or bad. He studied the girl next to him.
Desvergonzada
. “You
are
a virgin, no?”

“Of course! What a thing to ask!” Too late, she realized that, given her backup plan, she might have done better to let him slander her.

“I can see why your grandfather wishes to marry you off quickly. The way you act around men, you will not be a virgin much longer.”

“Well, don’t you have the nerve!”

“Are all Irish girls like you?”

Mary Kate sighed. She wanted to be indignant, but he had good reasons behind what he said, and she couldn’t bring herself to tarnish all her countrywomen. “We’re bold, I suppose, and say what we think, but nay, most aren’t like Bridget and me. I told you last night, we’re the bane of our village.”

“You must have driven the young men mad.”

She gave him a sly grin. “Am I doing that to
you
?”

“I do not know what to say. I have used up all of my good English words on you,” he answered with a deep chuckle. “Surely one proposed?”

“Two proposed—Séamus and Liam. I couldn’t decide. Séamus had a fine, broad build, with a chest made for a girl to lean her cheek on, but Liam was by far the better kisser. I should have chosen one, either way, for I’d not be in this fix if I had.”

“And where was your father? When my sister, Mercedes, was caught meeting a young man in secret, my parents locked her in her room, posted the banns, and had them both in front of a priest before a hint of scandal could break.”

“Oh, my da were far too…” She stopped, her smile fading, the teasing glint in her eyes instantly dulled. “He were sick, like I said. I ran wild for the most part. I’m strong-willed, as you pointed out.”

“I thought we were being honest with each other.”

“I’m not lying!” she snapped. “‘Tis just none of your concern, that’s all. I’ve a bit of the devil in me, sure, but I’m not a bad girl! I want to be noticed! I like being wanted! Is that so bad? Men don’t have to sit around waiting for someone to see them and maybe decide they’d like to get to know them. They go after what they want. Well, so do I! I’ll not be carted off across the globe when all I want is to be home. I’ll not marry some Englishman who thinks I’m dirt because I’m Irish. I don’t care what it takes!” She spun on her heel and headed to the hatch.

Diego watched her stomp off furiously and wondered what on earth had just happened. He should not have questioned her virtue. Even now, he could scarcely believe he had done such a crude thing, but part of him had been hoping he had been wrong, that she had had more experience than he thought. He would have to apologize, and she would be well within her rights to demand that he order forty lashes for himself.

But that was not what had angered her. What had Magdalena told him, that a woman had few enough weapons with which to fight for her future? He had, himself, chafed against his parents’ desire to control his life. What if they had had the power to legally bind him to a woman he had never met and force him to live on land when all he wanted was to sail? They would do it, if they could. He would be in charge of his father’s store and his brother Rico, both.

He gripped the helm tightly. Oh God, she was the one. María Catalina was the one Magdalena had told him about. What had Magdalena been thinking? How could she send him a woman he could never trust? And even if he could find it in his heart to overlook all her outrageous, bald-faced lies, by law, María Catalina belonged to her betrothed. He was not about to give his heart to another woman who would leave him for some English dog! How could his saint think this was what he wanted? Why would she have helped him steer his course so truly—one more voyage and he would own a ship, a business—only to place him in such an untenable position?

I have to give her back
, he told Magdalena silently.
The last thing I need is to enrage some English nobleman by stealing his granddaughter. There is protocol here, a set course of action for a man such as I. She must be returned to her own people.

But her people were not English. After all, was that not all she was asking, to be returned to her own people? Maybe he could convince his friend Don Juan to ransom her to her family in Ireland.

Where are you, Magdalena? You have much to answer for!

He let out an exasperated breath. As María Catalina had admitted herself, she should have married when the choice was hers and saved them both this trouble. He should be glad she would soon be someone else’s problem, but somehow, the thought gave him little comfort.

*

Mary Kate’s eyes burned and her head ached fiercely, but she refused to give in and cry. Tears never did anybody any good. She’d learned that young enough. Her father’s disposition, whether he hated her or loved her, had never seemed to have any connection to anything she actually did. The best she could do was enjoy his good moods and scuttle out of the way when they turned to dark rage for no good reason. Try though she might, she had never been able to make
him
happy, or even angry, for that matter. If he was in the mood to see her outrageous behavior as charming and impish, so be it. If, another day, he found her solicitousness annoying, she got the back of his hand and a sound cursing in
Gaeilge
.

None of this was anything new. She had stopped shedding tears over it long, long ago. And everyone in the village knew her father was a drunk. For the life of her, she couldn’t explain why she hadn’t wanted Diego to know.

That Diego! As stuffy as any Englishman she’d ever met! Just because a girl wanted a bit of sport, she was a harlot, was she? She’d never let any lad do much more than hold her close and kiss her. If his hand wandered a great deal farther, he’d the print of her own on the side of his face to show for it.

“I’m not wicked!” she shouted at the closed door of her cabin. But pain stabbed between her brows and she felt her eyes burn again. Well she knew if she did not elude Diego in Havana, the stakes would become much higher. If all else failed, there was nothing she would not do to foil her marriage. No doubt it had taken much to convince her English fiancé to take a crass, ill-tempered Irishwoman, but one who had already been sullied by a Spaniard? No self-respecting Englishman could bear it.

The thrill Mary Kate felt when she first spotted land was short-lived. Diego quickly explained that she was seeing the coast of Florida. They sailed along that coast, past a series of islands, and finally she looked through the spyglass at El Castillo de los Tres Santos Reyes Magos del Morro—El Morro, as it was called.

The pale, sprawling, infinitely imposing fort guarded the open blue harbor of Havana. The surrounding land was flat and edged with sandy beaches that gave way to glistening, plaster-coated buildings embellished with graceful arches and artful windows. As far as she could tell, this place was as unlike Ireland or England as ever a place could be.

“
Álainn
, no?” Diego asked as he took the spyglass back.

Mary Kate smiled tenuously. He had been distant with her since her fit of pique several days before. She had apologized, and he had graciously accepted, but there had been no more easy banter or flirtation. “
Hermoso
,” she agreed.

“Galeno’s Spanish lessons?” he asked. When she nodded, he said, “
Hermosa. Es una hermosa ciudad.
City is feminine.”

“No matter. It is a beautiful city.”

“
No importa
. ‘No matter.’”

“
Is cuma
,” she replied. “‘Tis my language for ‘no matter.’ How do you say, ‘Does the priest here speak English?’”

Diego frowned at her. “I know a priest in Cartagena who does.”

Fortunately, she had prepared for this. “I know, but they’ll be deciding my fate there, and I’d just as soon go into it with a clean soul. Please, Diego! I haven’t seen the inside of a Catholic church since I left home when I was seventeen. I’ve much to account for, and some of it is your own doing!” She gave him a coy look.

He felt his resolve weaken the tiniest bit, so he squared his shoulders and stood a little straighter. “I have business to conduct here, and I do not have time to escort you around the city.”

“You won’t have to! You’ve only to find me an English speaking priest. A full confession and penance will take an hour or more.”

“Or more?” he asked, his eyebrows lifting in shock.

“It’s been four years, and if you think I told you a pack of lies, you ought to have heard what I told all those Englishmen!”

Diego sympathized more than he would have liked to. The closer they had come to returning to lands under the Church’s dominion, the more torn he had felt about his visions. He had never felt the need to confess them before. It was no sin to be visited by a saint. Now, he was seriously questioning the nature of those visitations, and Magdalena had been frustratingly silent.

He studied María Catalina and wondered if the weight upon her soul was as heavy as the weight upon his. Still, if he could last until Cartagena, so could she. “I cannot spend an hour waiting for you.”

“You won’t have to! You can leave me in the care of the Church.” She watched eagerly as he scratched his chin and looked off into the distance at the fort. He appeared to be considering it, so she added, “How much trouble can I get into? I don’t know a soul, nor speak the language above a few useless words.”

“Havana has plenty of trouble. If I leave you at a church, you must promise not to leave it.”

She worried at her lower lip. This was going to be the hardest part. “Well, there are a few things I need. I was thinking, maybe you could let me take a bit of my dowry and…”

Diego shook his head. “You have no dowry anymore.”

“But that’s where you found the letter from my grandfather!”

“The money belongs to Spain now.” He shrugged lightly.

All thought of charming him evaporated as her blood began to boil. “Spain!”

“It was part of the spoils that we took from the pirates.”

“But ‘tis mine! I can see why you’d keep the things whose owners you cannot find, but you know whom that belongs to! Besides, your country will be profiting by my ransom.”

“And what would be the use of ransom if we returned the dowry? Why not keep the dowry and ask no ransom?”

“Nay!” At his confused look, she forced herself to calm down. “The dowry’s mine. The ransom is my fiancé’s.”

“So you have no objection to Spain stealing
his
money, only yours.”

“Well, of course! Why would I care about his money?
He’s
trying to steal
me
.”

“You have the most confusing sense of logic. His claim to you is perfectly legal. Besides, the dowry belonged to your grandfather.”

“You thickheaded lout! I never agreed to marry that shipbuilder. No one ever even asked me! As for Sir Calder’s money, well, ‘tis just payment to me for all he’s put me through!”

“And just what is it you need to buy with that money? Passage back to Ireland, perhaps?”

Damn him!
Mary Kate leveled him with a mutinous glare. “None of your damned business.”

Diego laughed at her, and she felt the corners of her own mouth begin to quiver. A tiny snicker escaped through her nose, and finally she had to let go and laugh with him. “How is it you know me so well, and we only acquainted so short a time?”

“A person can read you like a book, María Catalina.”

She thought about that for a moment. Most people quickly determined that she was a nuisance. They’d never seemed to feel the need to know much beyond that about her. “Well, if that’s so, I’m a book no one’s ever cared to read so closely before. I think they take one look at the cover and never much like what they see.”

Diego’s eyes warmed as they scanned her. “I do not think that can be the problem. I have yet to see a book so fairly bound. For what it is worth, I think I can see to it you are ransomed back to your family in Ireland. So you see, there is no need to try to slip away from me here. Havana is a dangerous place.”

She shook her head emphatically. “My da could never afford it. You could help to keep me safe if you’d give me Sir Calder’s money and find me a ship.”

“I cannot do that. The money does not belong to either of us. There is a protocol here, María Catalina, and I am honor-bound to follow it. Have patience. My friend in Cartagena, Juan Gallegos, is a good man. I will explain to him how you feel, and perhaps he can find a solution.”

Enrique called his attention away, and Diego headed across the deck. Judging by the flurry of activity and their proximity to El Morro, they would be docking soon, and there was much to do. Mary Kate gazed up at the fortress walls and the tall, stone lighthouse that was part of the edifice, then looked to the city beyond.

The book analogy was flawed, she decided. The lads at home had certainly liked her looks. They liked her fine as long as they kept her mouth busy. It wasn’t as though other girls in the village weren’t as outspoken as she. They just seemed to take it better when no one paid them any mind. But it seemed to Mary Kate that her thoughts were as sound as anyone else’s and deserved to be heard. If having a man really listen to her meant he understood her a little too well, it just might be worth it.

She sighed. Diego listened, but there were things he simply didn’t understand. Once he disembarked, she would get one of the sailors to let her into the hold on the pretense of needing something from her other trunk. Once there, maybe she could find her dowry and pay her way home.