Chapter 3

It took Mariana more than a moment to compose herself. It wasn’t lost on her that when she was finally able to rein in her laughter, the Englishman standing in front of her remained straight-faced.

“And here I thought you had a sense of humor,” she quipped.

“Only when I’m joking,” he returned. “And I most certainly am not joking about this.”

“What reason could you possibly have to assume that my husband would even know anything about this ship’s treasure, let alone be in possession of it?” she said.

“I have my ways,” he said evasively. “Now, are you going to help me or not?”

“I most certainly will not help you on a pointless quest,” she said, standing up straight, needing him to understand that she was not a woman to attempt to convince with sweet words. “Someone has sent you on a fool’s errand, Your Grace, and is having a good laugh at your expense. My husband may be a man of loose morals who wouldn’t have turned away from a treasure, it’s true. However, he did not possess the wiles to steal such a thing, and besides that, he is loyal to Spain – as loyal as a man like him could be, I suppose. He would not steal from his country.”

Edward leaned forward. “Be that as it may, I believe that he had pirates steal the treasure and sink the ship, then return the fortune here to Spain for himself.”

“And did what? Hide it?” she said incredulously, raising a finger in the air and pointing it at him. “If he had come into such money, he most certainly would have spent it, and I never saw any excess. Now, Your Grace, you are in my home after dark, and we are unescorted. I wouldn’t want the neighbors to talk.”

By his quick grin and the gleam in his eyes, she had a feeling that he was well aware that she did not care what her neighbors might think, but she most certainly wasn’t going to go jump into bed with a man that she hardly knew.

“Are not the ‘neighbors’ people who live on your land?”

“It’s not mine.”

“Your husband’s then. Same thing.”

“Not really.”

He let out a sigh as he began to leave.

“Very well, Do?a Palencia. I will respect your wishes and go. But please know that I am staying at the inn not far away. If you think of anything, please do let me know.”

“Of course,” she said, though she didn’t hide the fact that she didn’t really mean it. “Why would I not want to give any information to an Englishman who showed up here with no announcement, who should be the last man to have any claim to such a treasure, if it is true that it is even on land somewhere and not in some watery grave? This matter does not concern you, Your Grace. Please go back to where you came from and forget all about my husband and the San Juan.”

“Do?a Pal?—”

“Go home. Not to the inn, but to England. And do leave this be.”

Edward nearly kickedthe stool in front of him when he returned to the inn. Now sitting in the tavern, he had a sangria before him, even though he would have desperately loved a whiskey instead. He had found, however, that when in a foreign land it was best to order the local drink.

“You look like you have some troubles,” said a man from the table next to him.

Edward shook his head, lifting his glass to his lips. “Nothing overly concerning,” he said after he swallowed. “Some business to take care of, is all.”

“You’re English,” the man said, leaning in toward him. He was about twenty years Edward’s senior, with a long grey beard and unreadable dark eyes.

“I am,” Edward admitted. “My accent is not as good as I thought it was, apparently.”

“Not bad for a foreigner,” the man said, holding out his hand. “Pablo Sánchez García.”

“Nice to meet you,” Edward said with a nod.

“Heard you had business at the Palencia manor,” García said nonchalantly, causing Edward to start in surprise, although he couldn’t help but chuckle.

“It seems news travels as fast here as it does in an English town.”

“Perhaps faster,” García said with a snort. “You saw the widow?”

“The widow?” Edward put his drink down. “What widow?”

“Do?a Palencia. I know I shouldn’t be saying it, but she is a beauty, is she not? Even an Englishman must think so, though she is likely far too much for a man used to an English rose.”

García laughed at himself, but Edward had sat back in his chair, processing what he had heard. She had lied to him, pretending that her husband was just away, when in reality he was dead. Edward wondered for how long, and what she thought she had to gain by making him think the man was still alive – or what secrets she was keeping.

It seemed he had to pay another visit to the fiery Do?a Palencia.

He hated how much he was looking forward to doing so.

Edward knew bettertoday than to knock on the front door. Getting past the butler yesterday had taken a nearly Herculean effort.

His visit yesterday had, however, provided him with a better understanding of the layout of the manor, and his glimpse of the immense grounds with its layers of foliage told him that there would be ample opportunity for him to sneak around to the back, and hopefully enter through the terrace doors.

The tropical climate of San Sebastian meant that the grounds of this manor were much lusher than anything one would ever find in England, and here at the Palencia Manor it seemed that while nothing had been left to disorder, the garden had been allowed to grow in its natural state.

As he tried to decide how best to approach the lady this time without being removed from the building at his surprise appearance, a melodic trill met his ears, and he realized that he wasn’t going to have to break into the manor to find her after all.

He opened his mouth to call out to her, but as he rounded the corner of a bank of trees, he stopped, stilling when she came into sight.

She was walking along a small body of water that ran through the grounds, her hand running over the pink flowers that were growing on the row of trees next to it. She stopped for a moment, arm outstretched while she waited, and Edward couldn’t stop watching her, his jaw dropping open when a bird flew down and perched on her finger. It was like something out of a fairy tale.

She laughed, continuing her song, the tune echoing softly behind her.

It was in Spanish, the words soft and melodic.

“Mi amor, has llenado mi corazón. Me ha dejado tan ligero y sintiendo calor…” she sang, and Edward translated it to himself as quickly as he could.

My love has filled my heart. He has left me so light and feeling warmth, he murmured. He hadn’t heard it before, but then, it wasn’t likely that Spanish songs would be sung in the parlors of English homes.

Now he found himself caught between not wanting to startle her but needing to make her aware of his presence.

The choice was taken away from him, however, when he stepped on a twig and it snapped, causing the bird to fly away and the woman to whirl around quickly toward him with a gasp.

“You,” she said accusingly, her face narrowing when she saw him. “What are you doing here? How did you get back here?”

“I walked,” he said. “Didn’t want to face your scary butler again.”

“Abello?” she said with raised brows. “There is nothing scary about Abello.”

“I have the sense that no one scares you very much.”

She tilted her head, a slight smile curling her lips, although emotion flashed in her eyes.

“I suppose you are right about that. Why are you here?”

Edward took his chances then, stepping closer toward her.

“Because I discovered something last night.”

“Oh?”

“You lied to me.”

She lifted a slender shoulder. “Not that it makes any difference, but what is it you believed I lied about?”

“Ah, did you spin more than one tale, then?”

“I owe you no truths nor anything else, Your Grace,” she said. “You showed up here, to my home, uninvited with some ridiculous tale. Why should I give you anything, including the truth?”

“Because if your husband did steal such a fortune from King Philip and his deception was ever discovered, you would be in a great deal of trouble.”

She crossed her arms over her chest as though she didn’t care, but Edward had the feeling that his words had gotten through to her – to cause her some worry, at least.

“I have done nothing wrong,” she said. “Nor has my husband.”

“Nor did your husband, you mean,” Edward corrected. “I hear that he is no longer with us.”

“I never lied to you,” she said with a sly smile now. “I told you he wasn’t in residence and confirmed that he wasn’t in Spain. His spirit isn’t, at least. I have a pretty good idea of where that ended up.”

He smirked then, unable to help himself, as annoyed as he was at her half-truths.

“Tell me, Your Grace,” she said, her hips swaying in their panniers as she walked toward him through the grass, “if such a treasure was findable, and you did discover it, what would you do with it?”

“It depends what the treasure is,” he said. “It would not be the first that I have discovered. If I knew who the rightful owners were, then I would return it to them. If, however, there was no rightful owner, then I would donate the funds to someone who could use them.”

She looked at him in disbelief. “Then why go to all of this trouble?”

“Isn’t that the question?” he said cheekily. “I have a feeling that you would get along well with my brother.”

“Is he anything like you?” she asked with a snort.

“Nothing at all like me,” he said in response.

“Then maybe we would get along after all,” she mused aloud. “I am not sure why you are back here aside from a desire to accuse me of lying to you.”

“If you lied to me about this, then what else are you hiding?” he asked, advancing on her now, but she held her ground, tilting her chin up toward him as he neared.

“I am hiding nothing,” she said. “I am simply a widow, living out my life in peace here in San Sebastian. I didn’t lie when I said that my husband’s brother is in Madrid. He is the marqués now.”

“My answers do not lie in Madrid,” Edward said shaking his head. “They are here in San Sebastian. This is where I’m told the trail ends.”

“I know this manor better than anyone,” she said. “If there was a fortune in doubloons here, I would certainly be aware.”

“Let me search,” he said, hating that he was practically begging but he wasn’t sure how else to go about it. “Let me explore the grounds and give me your backing so that the townspeople will allow me in places they otherwise wouldn’t.”

“Why would I do that?”

“If you do, I promise you that you can use the treasure for whatever means you see fit. If that means returning it to the Spanish government so they don’t come after you, then so be it.”

She paused a beat, and he thought he had her, before she shook her head.

“No. That is not a good enough reason. I need proof.”

“Proof?”

“Evidence that supports your claims. Bring it to me and then perhaps we can make a deal.”

“But I have nothing.”

“Then it’s your loss.” She lifted her shoulders before turning around and continuing on her walk. “You can see yourself out now, Your Grace. Unless you want the scary Abello to do it for you.”

He couldn’t help but grin as he turned and left, her laughter following along behind him.