Free Wild Bells to the Wild Sky by Laurie McBain

be surprised if Don Pedro did not announce plans for leaving Santo Domingo any day now. Catalina had already announced her intentions of remaining in Santo Domingo with her children while Don Pedro continued the rest of the journey without her.
    Sir Basil was beginning to lose sleep worrying about what harm the two English traitors might cause before he could return to England and warn the queen. He was almost grateful to the priest for his words of caution to that young fanatic. The advantage, at least for now, was his, Sir Basil thought with a grim smile of satisfaction. Don Pedro did not know that his passengers had been seen and recognized, and when they returned to England, thinking themselves safe, they would be arrested. And that day would come soon, for if fortune were smiling on him, Sir Basil prayed, then Geoffrey Christian could not be far away, nor their return to England long off.
    As it so happened, the Arion was one day's journey west of Santo Domingo when Sir Basil came down to dine that evening. Sir Basil was not looking forward to yet another meeting with Don Pedro, whose arrogance and rudeness were becoming exasperatingly difficult to accept without some response in kind. But as Don Rodrigo's guest, Sir Basil had been constrained to swallow many a cutting rejoinder about Don Pedro's own heritage. Should he, however, insult Geoffrey Christian's wife again, without Don Rodrigo coming to his daughter's defense, then he would not remain silent, Sir Basil promised himself as he took his seat at the long banqueting table.
    Prepared to do battle, Sir Basil eyed the captain of the Estrella D'Alba as if taking sight along a cannon. But Sir Basil, even in his most satisfying imaginings, could not have foreseen the unexpected broadside that exploded in Don Pedro's lap as he sat sipping his wine.
    "And how is Lily Francisa?" Catalina inquired with genuine concern. "I think she has taken t he death of Madre very hard , si . I have not seen the child in the courtyard since the funeral. Always she would sit there by the parrots and talk to them. I could hear her laughter, and I am afraid so could my daughters. They wondered why their cousin was not napping or working her embroidery. I do not think they understand her."
    "Lily does not enjoy so - -so docile an occupation, I am afraid. Although she does know how to tie a reef knot and mend a sail," Magdalena admitted with a sigh. "I am concerned, however, for she has not said anything about what has happened to her grandmother. Lily is such an inquisitive child. I am constantly at a loss to answer her many questions. And yet, not a word about Madre ."
    "Your daughter, Doña Magdalena, would do well to remember not to speak until spoken to. She is impertinent, but precisely what I would expect from a child sired of an English father," Don Pedro remarked. "Since the inglés do not teach their offspring to have proper respect for either the Church or the Crown, it is not surprising that they show little respect for their elders. Should the child have come under my guidance, I would k now how to curb her insolence quickly enough," Don Pedro predicted.
    "Don Pedro, you are a guest in my home, please remember that," Don Rodrigo said harshly, for it was one thing to speak ill of his English son-in-law, but to criticize his granddaughter, a child he found to be quite charming, was quite another matter all together. "If you remember, she is my granddaughter , and the Montevares blood that runs through her veins also runs through your children's. In future, when you insult Francisca, or Magdalena, you also insult a Montevares," the old gentleman said proudly, his defense surprising his daughter as much as it had Don Pedro.
    "My apologies, Don Rodrigo," Don Pedro said smoothly, "but I had forgotten for a moment that Magdalena was, after all, Spanish. She has adopted so many English mannerisms."
    " 'Tis strange, then, that Her Majesty should still think Doña Magdalena so Spanish in