The Shores of Spain (16 page)

“You haven’t seen my feet before today,” she said softly.

He hadn’t, but that wasn’t what he actually meant. He stepped closer. “Do you resent that I’ve . . . always treated you like you’re human?”

He hadn’t, actually. At first he’d been taken aback when he learned she was nonhuman. Duilio’s lack of concern over the same attribute in his own wife had reassured Joaquim, but Oriana and Marina were very different women. He was occasionally surprised that they were sisters.

Marina shook her head. “I like being human. No one expects anything of me there.”

“What do you mean?”

She folded her hands together. “My mother’s family are politicians and spies, and I never wanted that for myself. It would be horrible. I’m a runt, and no one would ever take me seriously. I’m not
sure what I do want, but at least in Portugal, I have more choices. It’s . . . easier.”

Runt?
Did she actually believe that of herself? Joaquim found himself staring at her, trying to figure out how she’d deceived him into thinking her self-confident.

There was a delicate cough behind Marina, and her white-haired grandmother stepped into the courtyard. “You are small, child,” the old woman pronounced in a stern voice, “but you are not a runt. You take after your mother’s father, who was very clever, I’m told, even if short.”

Marina’s gaze dropped to her feet again.

Joaquim hadn’t realized it before, but Marina did seem to be small for one of her people’s women. Oriana stood a full hand taller, or more. Marina’s grandmother and the servants he’d seen so far were almost as tall, and the women at the harbor had been large and strong enough for him to initially mistake them for men.

“Now, before you descend into further self-deprecation,” her grandmother said, “we’re about to have dinner served. Why don’t you bring your sweetheart back to the dining hall?” With that the old woman turned back into the hallway and disappeared from his sight.

Eyes downcast, Marina gestured for Joaquim to follow her.

He grabbed her hand to keep her from slipping away. “Marina, will you marry me?”

Her wide eyes finally rose to meet his. The moment stretched in silence until she finally asked, “Why now?”

His stomach went cold.
I thought she would say yes. Without question.
“I planned to ask you on the first of May, after lunch.” His words rushed together, spilling out. “We were going to visit the gardens at the Palácio de Cristal, remember? I meant to buy you a fine pearl ring. I already have one picked out. I asked your father’s permission last Wednesday night, but I couldn’t ask you until I’d told you the truth about myself. And then I had to come here, and didn’t
know when I’d be back. Then we were on the ship, and it just wasn’t the right time, and I don’t know if I’m allowed to ask you
here
, so—”

He didn’t finish whatever rambling statement he’d been about to make. Marina threw her arms about his neck, rising on her toes to do so. “Yes. I don’t need a fine ring or anything like that.”

He suddenly felt warm all over, as if the sun had come from behind the clouds. He held her waist to steady her, all too aware of the bare flesh under his fingers, and the lightly clad body pressed against his chest. “Marina, I want everything to be perfect for you.”

She drew back, shaking her head. “I don’t need
perfect
, Joaquim. If we’re married before we leave, no one will say anything about our traveling together. Grandmother can have the priest come here, if you’re willing. He’d marry us right away if she told him to.”

Ah yes, this is the island that’s partly Christian
. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.” Her jaw firmed. “I won’t let you change your mind either.”

Not that I want to.
“Shall we go tell your grandmother?”

Marina stepped out of his grasp, a calculating expression flitting across her features. “No.”

It was his turn to shake his head. “Why not?”

“We need to tell her the other way around. If we tell her you’ve accepted
my
courtship, then . . .” She flushed again.

And he suddenly grasped what she meant, even if she couldn’t quite say it. That would mean they were already married. Joaquim licked his lips, feeling his breath go short.

If they followed her plan, tonight would be their wedding night.

How the hell am I supposed to make it through dinner with that on my mind?

*   *   *

M
arina hadn’t forgotten the rules of etiquette used here. And while Duilio clearly knew when to pass platters and about talking out of turn, Joaquim didn’t. He spoke to her a couple of times without being addressed before realizing that was forbidden. He
didn’t know how to signal to the servants that he’d finished—or not finished—a course. Marina found herself gesturing to them in his stead after they took away his plate when he hadn’t had a spoonful of his soup yet. Her grandmother took it in stride, but if this were another woman’s table, he might have been asked to go eat with the children until he learned his manners.

After the meal, Duilio escorted him out to the second courtyard, possibly to smooth his ruffled nerves. Marina didn’t know if she would have been comfortable speaking out in front of Joaquim. “He’s accepted my courtship, Grandmother. I wanted you to know.”

Oriana smiled, but didn’t comment, leaving this between them. Her grandmother patted Marina’s hand gently. “It was only a matter of time, wasn’t it, child?”

“Yes, Grandmother.”

“Do you have his mother’s blessing?”

Marina’s mouth fell open. She hadn’t thought of that.

Oriana stepped in, saving her. “Joaquim’s mother is dead, Grandmother, but Lady Ferreira is his foster mother, and I can assure you she approves of the match.”

Her grandmother gestured her acceptance. “And how long are you planning on staying?”

Marina shot a glance at Oriana. They hadn’t discussed that yet.

“We’re expecting to hear from the Americans tomorrow,” Oriana said promptly, “so they need to stay for that at a minimum. Why don’t we take this into the courtyard? Joaquim will also need to hear it. If nothing else, it could be helpful to have a fresh perspective on our information.”

So they headed that way, Oriana stopping at the door to ask a servant there to fetch two of the guards to join them. They entered the back courtyard where Duilio and Joaquim had already taken two of the wooden chairs. Her grandmother gestured for them to sit, and a moment later two of the guards arrived, an older woman with hard
eyes and a stocky younger woman. Judging by their uniforms, they must be the officers of the Portuguese guard—the
female
officers.

Marina eyed them curiously. It wouldn’t be her choice to be a soldier, not any more than she’d want to be a spy. These women must be more like sereia than she was herself. Since she’d arrived in Portugal, she always conformed to human society’s expectations, even if she didn’t truly believe they were right. It had been
easy
. These women had to be very determined. She suspected they put up with terrible ridicule—perhaps worse—back home.

Oriana came to stand behind her grandmother’s chair. “On the first night we were here, not quite two weeks ago, someone broke into our bedroom and stole Mother’s journal.”

She relayed the details they’d dug up so far, a tale of two unlikely thieves. Marina scowled as she puzzled over the missing parts. “If you’d just arrived,” Marina said when there was a pause in the story, “how did they know you would have the journal in your bedroom? And how did the boy know which room you’d be in?”

“Good questions,” Duilio answered. “As to the second, we suspect someone who knew the layout of the house informed them, which means either someone on our embassy staff, or anyone who’s ever visited this house before. We were given the best guest room. As to your first question, we don’t know. They could have simply taken a chance.”

“A seer could have told them you would have the journal,” Joaquim said.

Duilio shrugged. “A good seer, I suppose. More likely they could have predicted that the boy’s quest would be successful. It’s interesting to note, though, that the boy was probably illiterate, since he stole every book I had in my desk, including my personal journal, which had only a handful of pages filled.”

“Is there any chance the boy was after
your
books and not the journal?” Marina asked.

“It’s
possible
,” Duilio said, “but there doesn’t seem to be much motive for stealing the old Haggard novel I was reading. When Oriana and I looked at the journal, it included a hidden cipher, but we didn’t have time to decipher that to see what it said.”

Marina licked her lips, her mouth dry. Her mother had always liked puzzles. On occasion her father’s office handled confidential materials that were encrypted, and she’d done some of the deciphering work. It was tedious, but she could do it. “We have to get it back.”

“Which is where you come in,” Duilio said to Joaquim. “Our information is that the woman who stole it is headed to Barcelona, but we don’t know where she’ll go from there.”

“Two sereia should be easy to track in Barcelona,” Joaquim said cautiously.

“No,” Oriana said. “The woman’s had her webbing cut and the boy is webless. In human clothes, they can both pass as human.”

“Webless?” Joaquim repeated.

Oriana explained that to Joaquim, and Marina could almost feel his eyes on her. They’d never discussed that topic—what their children might be like. Perhaps he’d just assumed they would be human. Or had he even thought about children?

“We’re hoping the Americans have turned up something more helpful,” Duilio added. “They have far more resources than we do here. They’re sending someone tomorrow afternoon to hand over what information they’ve found.”

Marina shook her head. “Why would the Americans care?”

“They owed me a favor,” Duilio said with a dismissive shrug. “I suggest revisiting this in the morning, since it’s almost dark. Joaquim can help us find Costa then.”

Joaquim nodded quickly, and Marina realized that Duilio intended for him to use his gift of finding to locate the lost man.

Duilio rose. “A good night’s sleep is the best counsel, isn’t it?”

Apparently that was the end of their meeting. Marina rose along with the others, uncertain where all this left her. Duilio drew Joaquim
away in the direction of the males’ hall. Joaquim mouthed something at her that she didn’t grasp. And then he was gone.

Oriana spoke to the two guard officers a moment longer, and then walked with Grandmother out of the courtyard, leaving Marina alone there. She threw up her hands in disgust. What was she supposed to do now?

CHAPTER 15

A
re you going to read me a lecture?” Joaquim asked once they reached his bedroom.

He dreaded the idea of having this sort of talk with Duilio. While not anywhere near as promiscuous as Alessio had been, Duilio had been experienced with women when Oriana came into his life. Joaquim wasn’t. Yes, there
had
been a few girls before he went to seminary, but he’d always taken his relationships with women far more seriously than had any of his brothers.

“I only want to keep you from making an ass of yourself,” Duilio said. “Oriana says you’ve accepted Marina’s courtship, which means you’re expected to share her bed now.”

“I am aware of that,” Joaquim said, the tips of his ears burning.

“I have one thing to warn you about.” Duilio folded his arms across his chest.

Joaquim grabbed his bag off the bench. “I know she has sharp teeth.”

Duilio chuckled. “Yes, something to keep in mind, but that wasn’t it. I’m relatively certain she’s a virgin, Joaquim.”

Why on earth would he say that? Annoyed, Joaquim yanked his garments off the shelves in the dressing area and began cramming them into his bag. “And therefore I must be gentle. I understand the concept.”

“Wrong assumption,” Duilio said in his most patient tone. “Sereia
females do not possess a maidenhead, the cause of numerous misunderstandings about them throughout history.”

Joaquim dropped his last linen shirt in the bag’s open mouth and turned to look at his brother. “And you were afraid I would misunderstand, and say something hurtful.”

Duilio folded his arms over his chest. “No, I know you better. You wouldn’t say a word, but you would fret over it endlessly.”

Joaquim closed up the bag. He had never questioned Marina about her experience—or lack of experience—with men. He hadn’t
wanted
to know. But his reluctance to inquire about her past had led to the quandary he’d been facing all day. “I’ve just realized that I know almost nothing about her. I’ve been courting her for six months, and I’ve never asked. Not the right questions, at least.”

Duilio clapped one hand to Joaquim’s shoulder. “It will take years before you truly know her. And then she will change, or you will, and you must learn again. People grow. Experience makes them do so. Oriana and I aren’t the same two people who arrived here three months ago, and certainly not who we were on the day we married.”

Joaquim regarded him steadily, wondering how Duilio had changed. He was more than simply
older
. He seemed more serious now. He would be a father soon, and that would change him further. And Oriana, who had begun their journey together as a woman who’d lost almost everything, had gained a regal confidence that Joaquim had only glimpsed in her before. “Has it been hard on the two of you, being here?”

“Yes, but if nothing else, it makes us rely on each other more.”

Joaquim let out a huff. “I feel like everything has spun out of my control. Everything is happening too quickly, and not . . . how I planned. I prefer my life to be planned.”

“I know you do,” Duilio said. “And you can get back on that yacht and return to the Golden City tomorrow morning. You can go back to your apartment and back to work at the police station. You can have every day the same and keep everything perfectly serene. You don’t have to do any of this.”